When Love Shows Up: Weekly Reflections about God’s Presence

WLSU, Loving Kindness - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

Kindness is not a Hallmark card. It is not a cloying call for a so-called return to the civility of the good old days that never really existed. Kindness is ferocious and powerful. Kindness is salvation.
To devote myself to kindness is to recognize the beauty and belonging of every person on this earth. Kindness is the practical application of acknowledging that each person is made in the image of God. Kindness is what it means to love my neighbor as myself.
Sometimes I forget the truth, and I start to think that kindness is weak. But kindness is strength, because kindness insists that the person to whom I am speaking carries holiness within them, bears the image of God. And to believe this is true takes strength and to act like it's true takes courage. Because if I'm honest, I don't always think someone has the image of God within them. I don't always believe that a person is connected to God. I can believe in monsters just like anybody.
Hatred, spite, and demonization is dehumanization - the misguided belief that someone does not belong to God, was not made by God, is not magnificently loved by God. To let hatred have a voice is a direct decision to give in to the darkness of the powers that seek to corrupt and destroy the creatures of God.
The skeptic in me immediately points to the times Jesus says things that I see as harsh or brash. I can then say Jesus isn't always kind, so why should I be? But when I pay attention to the words of Jesus, I see that every single one of them insists that the person to whom he is speaking belongs to God. Jesus' words, even the rough ones, are kind because they acknowledge the inherent humanity and dignity of their recipients. Jesus does not think of anyone or speak of anyone as trash - not even his enemies. When Jesus critiques, when Jesus stands up and speaks out, when Jesus is angry, it comes from his conviction that the person in front of him is fully human. Jesus carries within him a deep yearning for even his enemy to see their own humanity and live into it.
I cannot blame Jesus for the times I don't want to be kind.

WLSU, More Than That - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

In November of 1984 my parents threw an Election Night party. I still remember the little elephants on the cocktail napkins. I was five years old and understood nothing about politics, but I knew that Ronald Reagan was president, that he was about to be for four more years, and that this was both inevitable and very good. It is odd now to think of the outcome of a presidential election being a foregone conclusion, but it was. In 1984, Reagan carried all but one state and the District of Columbia in what is still the largest electoral landslide in modern history.
Moments like this implanted within me not only a strong political identity, but also a sense of clarity and certainty: My family's guy was the good guy, he led the right team, he would win obviously and convincingly, and we would celebrate.
When my dad came out of the closet as gay in 1992, he remained a Republican - as he would until his death in 2006. When questioned over the years about his political loyalty he would point out, correctly, that neither major party had at the time a pro-gay platform, that it was Democrat Bill Clinton who signed into law the Defense of Marriage Act and Don't Ask Don't Tell policies, and that since he wasn't going to get any real recognition from either party, he might as well vote for the candidate that best represented his other beliefs.
His gay friends in particular were not persuaded by this argument. For what it was worth, neither was I. I was not interested in complexity - or compromise. I have always been a more difficult and idealistic person than he was. So I was excited in high school when my likewise contrarian brother introduced me to libertarianism.Want to support our podcast?Give Here https://redeemercincy.tpsdb.com/Give/podcast

WLSU, A Nation of Prophets - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

This is where the prophet comes in.
The prophet, you see, is like a voice in the wilderness of complacency, greed, and vanity who tells us what God sees when looking at the world we're building.
Put in those terms, maybe we're not a nation of priests these days. Maybe we're a nation of prophets: A culture of people who feel as if God is compelling each and every one of us to speak our minds at all costs. The advent of social media has created not just the opportunity, but the pressure to make sure we have opinions and that we share them widely. At least in this country, there is far more emphasis on stating your values than on embodying them.
I don't say this to demonize social media: It can be such a powerful connector and community builder, and the relationships we build there are not fake. They are real and they matter. But it is a radical change in the way we communicate and we are just at the beginning of understanding how it is changing us. The same platform that allows us to share photos and memories with distant loved ones also supplies us with false conspiracy theories and helps us to organize insurrections. That's a lot for us to digest.
Likewise, I don't mean to denigrate the prophetic voice. We need people in our lives who will speak hard truths, who will point both to our failings and to the hope of our shared future. But the prophet's lone responsibility is to tell the truth. The prophet does not have stick around and make the change happen. A nation of prophets may write trenchant and forceful words.Sometimes we may even predict the future. But if we're not intentional, we may find our focus shifting to people knowing what we believe, where we stand, what we think or know about any given issue.Want to support our podcast?Give Here https://redeemercincy.tpsdb.com/Give/podcast

WLSU- Until You Love Them - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

Growing up, I was not tall, or athletic, or particularly handsome. But I was quick: I thought quickly and I spoke quickly. And I remember actually thinking I may not be the fastest or the strongest but I can outtalk these people. Yes I understand how arrogant that sounds. I was a bit of an arrogant kid. Or at least I was a kid who tried to appear confident and tried to find confidence wherever I could, and that ended up looking a lot like arrogance from time to time.
I remember how important a witty comeback was to me. Or how important it was to win an argument. To be right. This was how I could be strong, I thought. I could say the clever thing, the cutting thing. I could say the smart thing - which I would often confuse with saying the right thing or the good thing.
I have always been unspeakably drawn to being clever and sounding witty, even when it wasn't kind. In my childhood home, you could get away with saying mean things if they were funny enough. And I have always wanted to be right. Once as a teenager I was arguing with my dad, because of course I was, and he said, "Philip at some point you'll have to decide, do I want to be right or do I want to be happy?" To which I shot back, "Both. I want to be happy about being right." Another clever comeback: It emerged from my mouth so quickly that, I realize now, I had no actual time to contemplate his point, to digest it to possibly be transformed by it.
I want to tell you that it took me a long time to learn to hold my tongue, but that would imply that I've learned it. It's closer to reality to say I am still learning.

WLSU, Back At It - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

Here we all are, emotionally hungover from the beautiful haze of the holiday season. So much planning and traveling and visiting and hosting and partying and wrapping and gift giving. So many expectations - some met, and some frustrated. We're wondering if we're really supposed to get back to life and work as usual. As I write these words, I am surrounded by decorations still needing to be boxed up, and a tree that in a few days will be stripped of its ornaments and hauled to the curb. But right now I've got to do all the normal work things. All those people to whom I said, "Let's check in after the New Year," well, it's the New Year, and it's time to check in.
My kids were not at all interested in going back to school. My daughter, in particular, was livid because they scheduled the first day back to cruelly coincide with her birthday. She thought maybe it was a conspiracy.
She doesn't hate school, and you probably don't hate your work, your commitments, your normal routine. But the dread of returning to it, of putting back on real pants, and eating reasonably, and basically just acting like a civilized human in this world again, sometimes just feels like too much.
And what I think I want to tell you today is not just that that's normal or that it's ok, but that it might even be a little holy.

WLSU, Compared to What - Throwback Episode - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

Editor's note: As part of our When Love Shows Up Throwback Series we are re-posting this blog post which was originally posted on October 28, 2022.For his entire career, Bob Dylan has sought to present himself as he currently is. And that simple reality frustrates people. Because they compare him to himself. They compare him to what he used to be. They compare him to their own memory of him. And they leave scratching their heads.And how guilty are we of this? Not with Bob Dylan - but with life! Comparing our life now to what it used to be and then being disappointed that it has changed, even though changed is all it has ever been. Growth, aging, transformation, weathering, breaking down, building back up, being affected by your own life, showing your wrinkles. Your voice changes, your heart and your mind and your beliefs and your ideals and your faith all shift. But then you compare you now to you a few years ago. You scratch your head and say why. You just aren't like you used to be.Life keeps happening. And, to be honest, that's what scares us. We want that singer to sound like he sounded 10 years ago, 20 years ago, 50 years ago - like he sounded in our memories. We find some strange solace in that kind of comparison. How much ink has been spilled comparing our country now to what we once were?The church is far from immune to this comparison. Here is how I remember church: why can't it be like that?Want to support our podcast?
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WLSU, Everybody’s Birthday - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

Speaking as a Christian, I don't say Christmas is everyone's birthday for the sake of quaint comparison. I believe the birth of Jesus changes every person for all time. Because of Jesus, every single person on this planet is deeply connected to the God who made them. Every single person. It doesn't matter where they were born, what they believe or don't believe, how they vote, if they pray or not. In Jesus, God has chosen to hold onto every single one of us forever, to redeem every single one of our lives. God has said yes to us, and indeed to all of creation. We all belong utterly to God without condition.
So Christmas is the celebration of Jesus, yes. But through Jesus, Christmas is a celebration of each and every one of us. It's a celebration of our lives, of our belonging. If we are serious about recognizing who Jesus is and celebrating what God has done, then this season, this holy day, is best spent celebrating our humanity and the beautiful humanity of those around us. Because on this day we remember that God blesses our humanity.
The things we want for children on their birthday - to feel special, to feel loved, to have a wonderful day in which they can really experience a sense of what a blessing it is that they exist, what a blessing they are to those of us who know them - this is a list of what God wants for us on Christmas.
But let's be realistic: There will still be stress and anxiety because of our expectations. There is no way around this I suppose. I want to stay honest about that.
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WLSU, Ad Advent Progress Report - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

How is the buildup to Christmas going for you? Are you experiencing hope and joy and all that? Are you being festive enough? Are you feeling all the correct feelings? I want to take this opportunity to remind you that there is no one right way to experience Christmas. Our feelings and expectations surrounding Christmas are endlessly complicated and there's no reason for us to pretend otherwise.
In the church we call the post-Thanksgiving pre-Christmas season Advent: It's a word which, aptly, means "coming" - as in, "Oh no Christmas is coming and we are not ready." Funny enough, most of the Bible readings assigned for Advent aren't about the joy of Christmas - they are about the surprise, dread, hope, fear, and expectation that accompanies Jesus showing up. As in, "Oh no, Jesus is coming and we are not ready."
There is no perfect Christmas. There is no way to get it all right. There is no way to win. And yet we fret every year as if our worrying will bring about perfection.
I have never had a perfect Christmas. But I love this season so much. I love it in its ridiculousness and tension. I love the songs and early dark and the lights. I'm 44 and I'm realizing I don't care at all what my presents are (so long as I get some). I wouldn't mind a Toblerone in my stocking. Mostly I just want it to snow, I want to sing Christmas carols at church, and I want to watch Christmas Vacation.
But I know. I know even though I make it sound like I'm easy to please, that I am no different than you. I too am carrying complicated feelings and hopes into the next few days.

WLSU, We Almost Died - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

So the heater didn't get fixed last spring. And we forgot about it because it was getting warmer. And now here we were in Late November, with a few freezing nights under our belt, and my wife's office is generally too cold. She had been using a space heater, but we knew that could not be the solution for the next few months: That would blow up our electric bill, and of course space heaters can be dangerous. After dragging our feet for a couple weeks, my wife finally called an HVAC technician with whom we'd worked last year. Almost as an afterthought, she asked him to just check on our furnace too while he's at our house.
The technician shows up and takes a look at our radiant heater. And it's working. As in, nothing is wrong with it. There was no reason for us to call. It just works. It was not working before. Now it is. He shrugs and goes off to the furnace. He runs some tests, comes back upstairs and says the heat exchange is cracked on our furnace and it is blowing carbon monoxide all over the place. He says he thinks it's just blowing outside through the exhaust, have we noticed anything inside?
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WLSU, Childish Things - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

A couple weeks ago I spoke/wrote about growing up, about maturing. And now we're talking about playing Nintendo. But I've been thinking about the things that shaped us in our youth, about what we did with them as we grew up. In one of Paul's letters to a church he (somewhat passive aggressively) tells them that when he was a child he did childish things, but when he grew up it was time to put childish things away. What did you put away when you grew up? What did you let go of?

Some people put away Christianity when they grow up. And I can't say I blame them much of the time. I do not believe God is a fairy tale. I do believe much of the way we have experienced Christianity is childish. As a teacher of mine used to say, the church in America is structured for spiritual infancy. What he meant was that Christianity as we know it is often does not push us to grow. And when we do grow, our churches don't know how to grow with us. So we abandon Christianity. Or, what's worse, we hold onto a version of Christianity that doesn't grow and mature even as we do.

I am fully capable of spiritual immaturity.