Daily Reflections based on Daily Lectionary of the Episcopal Church written by the clergy of Saint Stephen’s.
How is your life different? - November 16
Daily Reflection for November 16, 2020.
Today’s Readings:AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52; Hab. 2:1-4,9-20; James 2:14-26; Luke 16:19-31
Usually, when a church (or school) wants to build an expansion, a new building or worship space, or a covered pavilion for basketball and picnics, a very thoughtful plan is put together called a Capital Campaign. Major donors are usually a part of a feasibility study, then a quiet campaign is launched, followed by a public campaign that gives all of those who have a stake in the church or organization an opportunity to give. And then when the money is raised, and the project begins, everyone feels a shared responsibility in building their community.
Did you know that this was not always the case? In 1506, Pope Julius II began building St. Peter’s Basilica in what is now the Vatican City. If building a modest campus like that of Saint Stephen’s is expensive, you can imagine how extraordinarily costly it would be to build a major cathedral! The Catholic Church needed money. Good thing the Catholic Church had a way of raising money that was far superior, and most certainly immoral, than a Capital Campaign! (This is not a practice today, and Catholic churches, just like Episcopal Churches use the good old Capital Campaign model).
At that time, one of the key Catholic beliefs was this idea that punishment from our sins could be relieved through a work of mercy. This then led the church into a practice of receiving indulgences or payments to satisfy the punishment for people’s sins. Seeing this as an extraordinary opportunity to raise wealth in the church, indulgences were extended to family members and even for those who were deceased. Pope Leo X began selling indulgences with the sole purpose of financing the construction of the Cathedral, even for serious sins like adultery and theft.
In 1517, a professor of moral theology at the University of Wittenberg had had enough. When the indulgences began to be sold in his town, Martin Luther marched to All Saints’ Church in Wittenberg and nailed 95 Theses on the door, condemning this practice and initiating the beginning of what is now known as the Protestant Reformation. While most of the 95 Theses focused on indulgences, the Reformation also spurred a deeply needed conversation on the relationship of grace and good works.
This might be why we are not that familiar with the letter of James. James is critical of faith without works. James says, “Can faith save you?” And later, “So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.” I am betting that you have never heard in church that faith alone isn’t enough. The Reformation led us to prioritize faith over works.
It’s a slippery slope when we claim that our works are more important than faith, but this year I begun asking a question to my Inquirer’s class. “How is your life fundamentally different because of what you believe?” It’s a question we should consistently ask ourselves, because if our faith truly matters then transformation is always the end result. While acting out good works might give us hope and faith, it is our faith that transforms our lives, our worldview, and how we engage with others and the world.
Maybe James is just being provocative when he asks, “Can faith save you?” I happen to believe that faith does have that kind of power, but if we really have faith, won’t our lives be different? Won’t the way we act, the way we serve, and the way we care for others be changed? How is your life fundamentally different? Don’t worry, I won’t try to sell you indulgences to make it better.
John+
Questions for Self-Reflection: How is your life fundamentally different because of what you believe?
Daily Challenge: Making a change in life takes an actionable step. Pick one thing that you can do so that your life different.
Faith in Action - November 14
Reflection for November 14, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 87, 90; PM Psalm 136, Joel 3:9-17; James 2:1-13; Luke 16:10-17(18)
Alongside the words from the Letter of James, I am drawn toward a prayer taped inside the front cover of my Bible. (It is secured there because I kept losing it.) Before the Saint Stephen’s Friday Bible study group reads Holy Scripture, we say this prayer together:
As we open our Bibles,
we also open our hearts;
That these words of truth may fall
upon the very fabric of our lives.
May these ancient scriptures
come alive within us:
To inspire, to heal, to cleanse,
to teach, to restore, and
to guide our hearts and minds.
Lord, come weave your words of life in us. Amen.
I did not write this prayer. The midweek Bible Study at St. Thomas in Huntsville introduced me to it. I continue sharing this prayer, as it opens us to be moved spiritually and corporally by the study of scripture. It names the bold intention and hope that the words of the Bible may “come alive within us”. This reminds me of Friday’s guidance from James to “be doers of the word, and not merely hearers”. This prayer also names that the Good News is a source of life for us. Reading scripture can be a means of renewal, refreshment, and nourishment. As we immerse ourselves in study, that holy breath of God gets intermingled in our own respiration.
Join me in breathing in that opening prayer and the words of James – servant of God and of Jesus. As I reflect on the scripture today, the words from James are a call to authentic, integrated Christian living. Today’s theme is the danger of partiality, for it is divisive and sinful. People ascribing to life in God’s law and love are not to make distinctions based on socio-economics. James provides the scenario of inviting someone in “fine clothes” to a seat, yet having someone in dirty clothes to stand or sit on the floor; this is not mirroring Christ-like hospitality or compassion. Elevating one while demeaning another violates the Law of God…and one of the big commandments: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is hypocrisy when a faith community believes “our glorious Lord Jesus Christ” and actions reveal a preference for the rich. And so, James asks his hearers to examine how they have been treated by people in positions of influence and power. Who shows them respect? Who discounts them?
Much like the apostle Paul, James strives for consistency in Christian witness – so that the fabric of this new movement has continuity in its commitment to Christ. Like the recipients of James’ letter, we are Christians spread far and wide. We are divided by the physical restrictions imposed by COVID-19 precautions, and the current political and societal concerns facing our country. Each of us are trying to follow the law of God and the steps of Jesus, though we may approach faithfulness from different perspectives.
The Letter of James challenges us to move past the partiality that may lead us to listen only to those who share our perspective on a social or political paradigm. James challenges us to return to the foundation: Love God, and love your neighbor as yourself. As we rise to the challenges, may God’s redeeming and reconciling love flow through each of us to enrich our community, and may we have courage to live into the words we believe.
-- Katherine+
Questions for Reflection
How do you interact with those who hurt or dishonor you? Do you strive to please them? Avoid them? Or some other reaction?
Think of a source of division in your life. What brought redemption or healing?
Daily Challenge
At the core of James’ letter is faith in action. Write down three ways that your faith could be expressed in your Christian witness today. Prayerfully put at least one of these into action.
Four-Dimensional Faith - November 13
Reflection for November 13, 2020
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Joel 2:28-3:8; James 1:16-27; Luke 16:1-9
Today’s Reflection
Lately (let’s say the past eight months or so), I feel like I am seeing my own face a lot more than usual. It’s not that I’m stopping to look at myself in the mirror more often—it’s that I’m seeing my face on my own computer and phone. All. The. Time.
I see my face, alongside the faces of my colleagues, in my Zoom meetings for work. I see myself on my computer and phone as I lead daily prayer services on Facebook. I see myself when I watch the Sunday livestreams on YouTube (which I do usually watch, after the fact, to get a sense of what you all are seeing and hearing as you worship at home).
This is the new normal. And yet, it is important to note that this is also not normal. In pre-pandemic life, we only saw other everyone else’s faces in meetings, worship, and other gatherings. On the one hand, I’m getting used to it. On the other hand, I’m also aware that the mediated version of me (and you) is a version that is once removed—and this mediated version of reality that can only convey a partial sense of who we really are.
In grad school, I took a whole course on Communication and Technology. Now that was 20 years ago, and the way communication and technology intersect has evolved a lot since then. But much of what I learned about the theories and research on comm and tech still holds true. The technology we use to communicate with one another influences the nature of what ends up being communicated. As Marshall McLuhan famously declared, “The medium is the message.”
So, as I read the passage appointed from James for today, what stood out to me is this: “But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing” (1:22-24).
In this uber-mediated atmosphere in which we now find ourselves, when so much of what many of us are doing as workers and worshippers is happening online, it’s important not to lose touch with the reality of who we are and whose we are. I am more than who I am on my screen or on your screen—and so are you. While I do believe that we are doing much meaningful work and worship through the media of Zoom and YouTube and Facebook and so on, we also must keep reminding ourselves that we are more than the 2-D version of ourselves we show each other on our screens. As James reminds us, “those who look into the perfect law… and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing” (1:25).
How do we push ourselves to live out this kind of four-dimensional faith, to “be doers of the word, and not merely hearers” (1:22)? James gives us a few ideas: “be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger” (1:19). And as James declares so very clearly: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world” (1:27). The Body of Christ is made tangible in the ways that we care for one another—by listening deeply, by choosing our words compassionately, and by sharing generously with those in need.
To be the Body of Christ, we are called to push ourselves beyond hearing and seeing and into doing and being.
—Becky+
Questions for Self-Reflection
Reflecting on your own life and habits, what does it mean to you to be a “doer of the word” and not just a hearer?
Daily Challenge
What is a specific or tangible way that you can enact or embody the Word of God in your daily life this week?
Going the other Way - November 12
Daily Reflection for November 12, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [83] or 23, 27; PM Psalm 85, 86; Joel 2:21-27; James 1:1-15; Luke 15:1-2,11-32
In our first year of seminary, the campus experienced a baby boom. Some joked that the snowstorm the spring before, aptly named Snowmageddon, where students were stuck on campus or their apartments for a week, was to blame. There was no escaping the talk of babies and the planning, dreaming, and joy that was to come. In our small community, it felt like everyone was pregnant. Even one of the faculty members was about to be a new dad.
One of the many lessons that I had to learn that Fall included the reality that joy in some people’s life can bring up stories of pain in others. The Rt. Rev. Mark Dyer and his wife, Dr. Amy Dyer, invited Anne and I and a few other couples to an evening where we could pray and share in a safe place. We had all experienced devastating loss that Fall and it was especially tender to process the grief in a community where so many were so hopeful about life and parenthood and we all had wanted nothing more than to share that same hope in our own lives. Mark and Amy shared their own stories of loss, grief, and hope that night, and it was the first moment where I began to find healing and a new sense of hope.
At the time, Mark was in his eighties and he could still real off all the painful words friends had tried to use to comfort him some forty or fifty years earlier. “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” Or “Heaven gained another angel today.” Some friends even told him he was a sinner and this is how God was punishing him. I guess they were trying to be helpful, but they wouldn’t have been my friends after a comment like that. That evening, he reminded all of us that God is not manipulative, yet is always present in our grief and pain. On that dark fall day, I felt God working through Mark and Amy, a presence that was real and tangible. They were able to use their own pain (albeit years later) to help Anne and I begin to heal.
I struggle with these words from James today. James is writing followers of Jesus who are facing hardship with the encouragement that “whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:2-4). James would be considered more than a little insensitive today.
But if we take the long view, if we are to read the words of James years after our struggles and trials, then the words begin to take a different light. Human life and hardship can lead us down two separate paths. We can so easily become bitter, jaded, hopeless, or angry. This path is easy and immediate.
Or we can go another way. Our trials, our pain, and our journey can lead us to become more empathetic, compassionate, and able to use our trials as a way to connect with others in their pain. James is encouraging us down the hopeful path. God is always present. Just as God was working through Mark and Amy, God can work through each of us too, through our own trials and tribulations. In the words of James, may we be emboldened to let “endurance have its full effect.” And may we make Christ known to a world desperately in need of Good News.
John+
Questions for Self-Reflection: How have other people who have experienced pain and suffering been helpful in your own healing and woundedness?
Daily Challenge: Spend time today reflecting on how hardship has shaped you to be who you are today. If you can, try to give thanks to God for how the trials and tribulations have shaped you.
"Return to the Lord, your God" - November 11
Reflection for November 11, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82, Joel 2:12-19; Rev. 19:11-21; Luke 15:1-10
In the film “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” characters played by Andie MacDowell and Hugh Grant go on a rollercoaster of emotions, social gatherings and liturgical rites around the British Isles. Their individual stories keep getting intertwined with one another. Sometimes it goes well; other times, there is heartbreak. During the heart-rending gathering to remember a character who has died abruptly, the poem “Funeral Blues” (1940) by W. H. Auden is recited:
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
The loss encapsulated in this poem is powerful and deeply emotive. In that space of devastation, where is one to turn? What could possibly come next? While a standard-issue “Rom/Com” would have us believe that romance brings resolve, the scriptures today offer some other avenues to ponder.
The readings appointed from Joel 2 and Luke 15 both speak to loss and the power of turning our lives over to God. The prophet Joel writes in a time of much turmoil and hardship. The poetry of today’s excerpt extends the invitation toward reliance upon God in the midst of disappointment:
“Yet even now, says the Lord,
return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
rend your hearts and not your clothing.
Return to the Lord, your God,
for he is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love,
and relents from punishing…” (v. 12-13)
Contrasted to the isolation and devastation in Auden’s poem, the prophet Joel uses lyrical language to call the Israelites to band together and return to the rhythms of prayer and sacrifice they have always known:
”Blow the trumpet in Zion;
sanctify a fast;
call a solemn assembly;
gather the people.
Sanctify the congregation;
assemble the aged;
gather the children,
even infants at the breast…” (v. 15-16a)
In this Holy Scripture (which may sound familiar from the Ash Wednesday service), we trust that God will not leave us comfortless. We hear the reminder to return to God with our whole heart, and not just a changed exterior. We believe that our Lord will answer us, as he did in Joel: “I am sending you grain, wine, and oil, and you will be satisfied…” (v. 19)
And now, briefly to Luke. I notice the language pattern Jesus uses in closing the parables: “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost;” “Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.” In each vignette, the player truly thought they had lost one of their own. Jesus uses sheep and coins as impartial placeholders in the story, to resonate with his listeners: scribes, Pharisees, tax collectors, and other “garden variety” sinners. What else – and who else – might Jesus’ listeners insert into that sentence as they gathered to hear Jesus speak? What other prayers of restoration were they seeking?
Jesus offers hope as we mourn. In 2020, many have experienced a myriad of losses – loved ones, security, compassion, health, relationships. Jesus invites us: Rejoice with me, for I have found my loved one that was lost…my security that was lost…my compassion that was lost…my health that was lost… my relationships that were lost. While Jesus uses examples of tangible items in his parables, what is truly precious in God’s eyes is YOU. The joy amidst the angels of God swells as we repent and return to the Lord our God. For whatever it is that you lament this day, Jesus invites you to return those cares to God…and even more, offer your whole life to God.
-- Katherine+
Questions for Reflection
What (or who) in your life feels utterly lost right now?
When has “offloading” concerns upon God been helpful? What obstacles prevent this?
Daily Challenge
Reread Joel 2:12-13. What about God’s love and care for you do you need today? Write the word or phrase on a piece of paper. Spend five minutes focusing your breathing and your prayer upon God. When your mind wanders, recenter yourself by thinking of that word or phrase you wrote down.
Loving Less, Loving More - November 10
Reflection for November 10, 2020
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 78:1-39; PM Psalm 78:40-72; Joel 1:15-2:2(3-11); Rev. 19:1-10; Luke 14:25-35
Today’s Reflection
What does it mean to be a disciple? Jesus’ message about discipleship in today’s passage from Luke 14 seems very puzzling and disconcerting at first read. “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14: 26-27). Why would the Son of God, who calls us to a life of love and community with one another, say this?
The word “hate” is a strong word. In our cultural context, we teach our children that you’re not supposed to hate anyone. We understand hate to be the opposite of love. And Jesus tells us we are supposed to love one another, for love is from God. So why was Jesus telling us to hate?
However, what seems likely is that the intended meaning of this teaching has gotten lost in the translation. One commentary I read, as I was trying to make sense of this challenging message from Jesus, says this: “‘Hating’ is a Semitic expression for loving less” (ESV Study Bible). As the commentator further clarifies: “Those who would be Christ’s disciples must (1) love their family less than they love Christ; (2) bear the cross and follow Christ; and (3) relinquish everything. These are complementary ways of describing complete commitment.”
But even keeping this more nuanced translation of the passage in mind, we still may find it personally challenging to love our family less. We live in a cultural context that prizes the idea of nurturing a healthy family and a loving home life. Countless books and articles have been written advising us about how to go about this—not to mention the proliferation of podcasts and social media posts on the subject.
Thankfully, Jesus wasn’t telling people to give up on their responsibilities as children and parents, spouses and siblings. Rather, what he is saying is that in order to put Christ (and the full package of how he calls us to live) first, we may have to reprioritize a few things. But this reprioritizing doesn’t mean that we are supposed to actively hate our loved ones. Rather, it means we must love Christ first in order that we may love our loved ones more deeply—in order to love them with the self-emptying, selfless love that is the way of Christ.
How do we love the people God has entrusted to our care through loving Christ first, and then everyone else second? Dietrich Bonhoeffer, writing on “Discipleship and the Individual” in his classic book Discipleship, helps us to wrap our mind around what this means: “In becoming human, he [Christ] put himself between me and the given circumstances of the world. I cannot go back. He is in the middle. … He is the mediator, not only between God and human persons, but also between person and person, and between person and reality.”
To connect this back more directly with our Gospel passage from today, and Jesus’ tough teaching on hating one’s family (or at least loving them less), here’s how Bonhoeffer explains it: “Christ the mediator stands between son and father, between husband and wife, between individual and nation, whether they can recognize him or not. There is no way from us to others than the path through Christ, his word, and our following him. Immediacy is a delusion.”
At first glance, it sounds like Jesus was telling us all to cut ourselves off from the people with whom we feel most closeness and connection. As Bonhoeffer clarified, though, “Everyone enters discipleship alone, but no one remains alone in discipleship…. They find themselves again in a visible community of faith, which replaces a hundredfold what they lost. A hundredfold? Yes, in the mere fact that they now have everything solely through Jesus. … The promise for those who follow Christ is that they will become members of the community of the cross, they will be people of the mediator, people under the cross.”
As we follow in the way of Christ and enter into community with others through Christ’s grace-giving love, we discover that loving others through Christ opens up more meaningful ways of being connected and in relationship with one another.
—Becky+
Questions for Self-Reflection
What are your top priorities in life? To whom or what do you give the majority of your time? Your energy? Your talents? Your money? In what specific ways has knowing Christ and his love caused you to change your priorities?
Daily Challenge
Look back on how you spent your time for the past day (or even for the past week). Is what you spent the most time and resources on an accurate reflection of your priorities? If not, what are one or two small changes you could make in your routines and habits to help your life better reflect Christ and his way of love?
Where our Journeys Meet - November 9
Daily Reflection for November 9, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Joel 1:1-13; Rev. 18:15-24; Luke 14:12-24
I worshipped last night. I know that sounds weird coming from a priest. But, I went to church at our 5pm service with no intention other than to pray with the community and sit in silence and work to feel connected to the people in my life and the people of Saint Stephen’s. There were about twenty-five of us spread out through the nave. Candles adorned the altar and the steps leading up to the sanctuary. The light danced throughout our simple and modest space, reflecting in the windows behind the altar and yet drawing our attention to the center of the room. It was lovely and much needed.
Two weeks from now, the tone and candor of the service will change. We will be introducing Celtic words and prayers. Lore has it that the community of Iona in Scotland was founded by St. Columba in 563. Iona is home to one of the most ancient communities of Christians and their words are still relevant today. This prayer taken from the worship book from the Christian Community of Iona will be used to welcome those who have joined our 5pm service on November 22.
“Leader Creator of the world, eternal God,
People We have come from many places for a little while.
Leader Redeemer of humanity, God-with-us,
People We have come with all our differences, seeking common ground.
Leader Spirit of unity, go-between God,
People We have come on journeys of our own, to a place where journeys meet.
Leader So here in this shelter house,
let us take time together.
For when paths cross and pilgrims gather,
there is much to share and celebrate.
People In your name, three-in-one God, pattern of community. Amen.”
I love this image. Imagine how profound the reminder is that we have come with all our differences, seeking common ground. How important today and all days to be reminded that our journeys meet with all of the messiness of our opinions, our experiences, with the profound hope that we will find common ground and unity.
The story in today’s Gospel reading from Luke gives us an idea of how this practice might take place. Jesus is once again using the image of a beautiful banquet to help us imagine the kingdom of God. As is often the case with Luke’s way of sharing the story, the focus is on the sick, lame, poor, and blind. Luke seems to be especially mindful that for our parties to truly reflect the kingdom of God, they need to be more expansive, more inclusive, and open. This seems to be so challenging because our natural human inclination around building community is to find people that we have shared experiences with and build off those shared experiences. But Jesus says, “No! You must dig deeper.”
Luke’s image is one of people with profound differences gathering together for a feast. The prayer from Iona reminds us that whenever paths cross and pilgrims gather, “there is much to share and celebrate.” If you are struggling with the divisions of our country, then see the words of Luke as a reminder that it is actually a hopeful image to find people with different world views, experiences, and beliefs and to gather as pilgrims. Notice Luke doesn’t focus on the conversation. Instead, the focus is on celebration.
“We have come from many places for a little while. We have come with all our differences, seeking common ground. We have come on journeys of our own, to a place where journeys meet. In your name, three-in-one God, pattern of community. Amen.”
John+
Questions for Self-Reflection: What does it take for you to feel welcome in a new community? How do you work to welcome others.
Daily Challenge: Think of someone today that you find yourself in conflict with and consider how your journeys have overlapped and where the journeys do meet and can continue to meet.
Oxen and Aquaphobia - November 7
Reflection for November 7, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 75, 76; PM Psalm 23, 27; Ecclus. 51:1-12; Rev. 18:1-14; Luke 14:1-11
Reading Luke 14 today brought me back to the urgency at play in saving lives. During Spring Break of my senior year of high school, I spent the week getting certified as a lifeguard and water safety instructor, along with seven other people. The teacher made us swim laps daily and put us through rigorous training. (It was in no way a restful vacation!) Jeff was a Red Cross employee and a huge guy – maybe 6’2” with a stocky build. For our final certification exam, we had to pull Jeff the instructor from the deepest part of the pool, 12 feet below the surface of the water, and then swim him to the side – simulating a rescue.
Once Jeff was set at the bottom of the pool, we had to go in and get him before he ran out of air. There was no tarrying, though it was terrifying prospect for me. You see, I have this acute fear of running out of breath. I was “chicken fighting” in the pool as a kid, with a friend sitting on my shoulders. As we toppled, I was pinned under the water. I struggled to reach the surface, gasping and scared. Thus, the feeling of fighting for breath is a visceral one that triggers discomfort in me. While it was an uncomfortable experience, I learned the value of being attentive and responsive to troubled swimmers.
It is no surprise that Jesus’ lesson to the Pharisees about rescuing a child or ox from drowning sparked reactions from me! The story goes a bit like this: On one particular sabbath, Jesus is on the way to dinner, surrounded by his critics. He sees a man who has dropsy (lots of swelling in his body due to retaining fluid). Jesus makes this a teachable moment: “Is it lawful to cure people on the sabbath, or not?” he asks the Pharisees. There are crickets … no one responds. Surely, they know he is trying to bait them. Jesus takes the ailing man, heals him, and sends him on his way. (I wonder what kind of grumbling and awkward gestures are exchanged. Maybe shrugging of shoulders or rolling of eyes? Someone says, “Oh man, he’s at it again!”)
Much to the Pharisees’ chagrin, the lesson is not over. Jesus shifts the dynamic and invites his audience into a space of empathy. He presents a scenario where they are to imagine how they would respond if the one in dire need was from their own household, rather than a lowly stranger begging on the street: “If one of you has a child or an ox that has fallen into a well, will you not immediately pull it out on a sabbath day?”
Think about the urgency of the situation when someone is drowning. Is there time for a procedural vote on the nature of appropriateness for intervention? No! You react immediately! Does it matter that it is the sabbath? No! The sanctity of God’s creation is at hand. Jesus drives home that point, presenting an extreme example, for the Pharisees take an equally staunch approach to following each letter of each Law. Jesus reminds his critics that life is a sacred gift – whether it is the life of a child, a stranger, or livestock. Rules on sabbath are to be followed, and when the fullness of life is curtailed – and healing is denied – by categorically adhering to the sabbath, then something is amiss.
We, too, are called to be responsive and compassionate to those in need around us. It is not always easy or convenient. Jesus calls us out of our shells of comfort and ease. He calls us to live into deep faithfulness, being vulnerable to what God’s love really looks like in the world. That means looking someone in the eye when they are begging on the side of the road. That means offering to pray with someone in a moment when they are weeping. That means facing our own sinful and broken hearts, before criticizing someone else’s woundedness. When we band together as Christian community to address the hurts, division, and pains that ail us, how much more forgiving and cohesive can we be!
-- Katherine+
Questions for Reflection
What excuses or prior obligations have kept you from helping someone else?
When has a stranger been responsive to you when in need help? To whom have you shown compassion, reaching out in need?
Daily Challenge
Make a plan to help someone in need. Sign up to deliver snack bags, sandwiches, or bottled water for the Avondale ministry to homeless neighbors. If not that, look for another venue where you can respond to a need of another person from outside of your circle of familiarity. Pray that God will prepare you to be attentive, brave, and vulnerable in what interactions that follow.
Down in the Lowlands - November 6
Reflection for November 6, 2020
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Ecclus. 50:1,11-24; Rev. 17:1-18; Luke 13:31-35
Today’s Reflection
As I write this reflection on Thursday evening for you to read sometime Friday morning, it has been 48 hours since the polls closed here in Alabama on Election Day. We had hoped that Tuesday would be the end of this seemingly unending election season. Yet, here we are, on Friday morning, still wondering when this season of dissension and uncertainty will ever end.
And when will this most long-suffering year that is 2020 ever end? Well, we know for sure that this calendar year will end on December 31. We know that we have just 55 days left in this most remarkable of years. And yet, everything that has made 2020, well, so very 2020 is likely to keep going right on into 2021. When will the global pandemic be fully behind us? We think we’ll begin to see some relief when a vaccine becomes available to everyone. But then, no one really knows when that will be.
So, my apologies that this is not the most hopeful opening for a daily reflection. But sometimes, it can be healthy to acknowledge when things are not going so well for us, to acknowledge that we are stuck and that we need some help to get unstuck. In order to get some help, we first must admit that we do, in fact, need a hand.
The psalm appointed for this morning shows us a vivid and familiar picture of what it is to feel completely overwhelmed by our life. As we read at the beginning of Psalm 69:
Save me, O God. for the waters have risen up to my neck.
I am sinking in deep mire, and there is no firm ground for my feet.
I have come into deep waters, and the torrent washes over me.
I have grown weary with my crying; my throat is inflamed; my eyes have failed from looking for my God (Ps. 69: 1-4).
This psalm reminds me of a song called “Down in the Lowlands” by Charlie Peacock, who took Psalm 69 and made it his own (way back in 1986). Whenever I hear this psalm, I hear Peacock and his collaborator Vince Ebo as they give voice to this lament:
Down in the lowlands, where the water is deep,
Hear my cry, hear my shout,
Save me, save me,
Down in the lowlands, where the water is deep,
Hear my cry, hear my shout,
Save me, save me.
Could this be it?
Could I be drowning?
Have I failed to be heard by the only one who can save me?
Show me some mercy, and touch me again,
Please lift me up above where I am.
Whether in the original words of the psalmist, or in Peacock’s reimagining of it, Psalm 69 gives voice to that feeling of being overwhelmed by our life, whether as a nation or as a family or as an individual. As noted Psalms scholar Robert Alter confirms, “In this psalm, the familiar image of drowning as a metaphorical representation of near death is elaborated with arresting physiological concreteness: The rising waters come up to the neck; the speaker feels his feet slipping from underneath him in the water as he sinks into the mire; then the current sweeps him away.”
But fear not! Psalm 69 begins to take a hopeful turn. Beginning in verse 14, the psalmist says,
As for me, this is my prayer to you… ‘In your great mercy, O God, answer me with your unfailing help. Save me from the mire, do not let me sink… Answer me, O Lord, for your love is kind; in your great compassion, turn to me (Ps. 69: 14-18).
And then later in the psalm, we hear this:
The afflicted shall see and be glad; you who seek God, your heart shall live. For the Lord listens to the needy and his prisoners he does not despise (Ps. 69: 34-35).
When we are feeling most overwhelmed by the deep waters of troubling times, when it seems like there is no escaping whatever situation we find ourselves stuck in, it is good to know that we have a God who will hear our cry and will answer us. We have a God who will turn toward us and show us compassion.
But how does God hear us and show us this compassion? In my experience, God shows that he sees us and hears us when we show up for one another. When we turn toward a fellow human being who is crying out for help—whether they are asking with a loud shout or in a desperate whisper—we are showing God’s saving help and compassion to that person. Who is God asking you to turn toward today, to extend a hand to help free them from whatever deep mire they are stuck in right now?
—Becky+
Questions for Self-Reflection
Recall a time when you felt absolutely overwhelmed by life—or maybe that time for you is right now. Did someone come alongside you in a way that helped you to keep believing in a God of love and compassion? What did that person say or do that helped you to feel seen, loved, and supported?
Daily Challenge
Ask God to show you someone in your circle of influence who may feel like they are drowning in deep waters or stuck in deep mire at this moment in their life. Listen for how God may be nudging you to be the person who gives them the support they need to get their feet back on dry land again.
Timeless Advice - November 5
Daily Reflection for November 5, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [70], 71; PM Psalm 74; Ecclus. 44:1-15; Rev. 16:12-21; Luke 13:18-30
As I write today’s (Thursday’s) reflection, it is Tuesday, and I have just returned from my local voting precinct. I have no idea out of the outcome of our election and how it will be lived out in our country. It feels like most everyone is worried. Regardless of who becomes our president in January, there is a mixture of emotions and those emotions are only amplified by all of the struggles and challenges of this year.
One of the gifts of Holy Scripture is the ability to always meet us where we are. In a way, Holy Scripture is timeless. When we hear Jesus talking to the disciples, those words do not speak alone to the reality of the world 2000 years ago, but those same words speak to us this day and for all days to come. I think we want to believe that the full manifestation of the Kingdom of God will be what we experience in our present reality, something that started 2000 years ago as a mustard seed has bloomed into a full tree that provides shade for the whole world. And for all of the birds of the air to make their nests in the branches (Luke 13:19).
And sometimes I think we experience that realized gift of the Kingdom of God when hatred and division dissipate enough for us to see the image of God in each other and to serve Christ in our neighbors. I experience that when we gather for worship, when our pastoral care teams reach out in love, when a prayer shawl is knitted for a baby or a person in the hospital. I experience the kingdom when Laundry Love is organized or meals are served in Avondale. I experience the kingdom when someone reaches out to our church asking how they can make the world a more beautiful place. Yet, we also can easily acknowledge that the kingdom has not fully arrived.
But listen to Jesus’s words. These words are forward-looking and hopeful. The kingdom of God is like “yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” The kingdom of God is like “a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in the garden.” God’s love is poured into our world, and faith is trusting not only that it is there, but it is changing the very nature of our world.
That is the profound truth that we as Christians believe – that God is always underneath ready to break through changing the very nature of our world. It is this truth that allows us to vanquish fear and worry and anxiety and hold dear to hope, truth, and life.
A colleague reminded me of the prayer for use by a sick person in our Book of Common Prayer which seems as apt as ever.
“This is another day, O Lord. I know not what it will bring forth, but make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be. If I am to stand up, help me to stand bravely. If I am to sit still, help me to sit quietly. If I am to lie low, help me to do it patiently. And if I am to do nothing, let me do it gallantly. Make these words more than words, and give me the Spirit of Jesus. Amen” (BCP, 461).
John+
Questions for Self-Reflection: How do you see God’s work taking place underneath the surface of our lives? What hope can you hold onto in a challenging time?
Daily Challenge: Bake a loaf of bread. Here is my favorite and easy recipe.
Framing Words in Love – November 4
Reflection for November 4, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Ecclus. 43:23-33; Rev. 16:1-11; Luke 13:10-17
More than ten years ago, I was given a huge Emily Post book called Etiquette, with hundreds of pages of guidance for manners and interactions in every form. What to wear, decorum while sharing a meal, and, writing letters, notes, and communiques for any possible situation. I’ll admit that I have not leafed through the entirety of that Emily Post book, yet it still sits on my shelf at home. When I cracked it open today, I found this inscription of wisdom: "Use this and your Bible for the answer to life's questions." I wonder if there is a section about how to conduct oneself on the day after a presidential election.
In 1922 as the first edition of Emily Post's book of social protocols was published, she could not imagine technological platforms connecting us and spinning our words and images through fiber optic innovations, so that someone in Trenton, New Jersey instantaneously could read the musings of someone in Albuquerque, New Mexico. And not just that: responses could be issued back and forth, with others chiming in with their own perspectives. Whether slinging insults and political invectives or finding common ground and inspiration through Marvel Comic superhero plot lines, all can happen among complete strangers or immediate family members. Emily Post could not have prepared herself, or us, for that.
So, what about guidance to conduct oneself on the day after a presidential election? What I found was this: on page 1 in the chapter "Guidelines for Living", the foundational principles for manners and social interaction are respect, consideration, and honesty. (I'll report on the other 846 pages of wisdom later.)
Resources I visit much more regularly than Emily Post's Etiquette are the Bible and the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer. The BCP holds prayers for every occasion under the sun. There are prayers for when I no longer have words. There are prayers when I need inspiration. There are prayers that bring me peace. How about you? Are there places and pages in the BCP that you have marked?
If you are without words today, or searching for common ground, I commend this prayer to you:
Almighty God our heavenly Father, you declare your glory and show forth your handiwork in the heavens and in the earth: Deliver us in our various occupations from the service of self alone, that we may do the work you give us to do in truth and beauty and for the common good; for the sake of him who came among us as one who serves, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. (BCP 261)
It is a collect for vocation in daily work…or said in a different manner, a prayer for the roles we fill and the work we do to be refocused through the lens of serving God and God’s world. As humble followers, we ask God to use and overwhelm our hands, so that we may connect with others, rather than solely considering our own lives. As we are called to live in common life – in community with others – we keep praying these and other prayers that re-center us...not just to be respectful, considerate and honest human beings, but also to find our foundation in the glory and love of God.
It is God’s divine law we are called to follow first. May we find our day enlivened by the hope of God’s faithfulness. Let us set our hearts toward God in prayer; a portion of Psalm 119 is a lovely place to begin:
Let your loving-kindness be my comfort,
as you have promised to your servant.
Let your compassion come to me, that I may live,
for your law is my delight. (vv. 76-77)
Let us pray that we frame our words and interactions upon the scaffold of God’s commandments from Holy Scripture: love God, love one another. We will move forward upon that sure foundation, regardless of the outcome of the 2020 election returns.
-- Katherine+
Questions for Reflection
Who in your life needs to hear of God's love and compassion today? Consider sharing the prayer or psalm in this reflection.
In what spaces in your work can you refocus your eyes upon the common good, and away from your own interests?
Daily Challenge
Set aside ten minutes today to write a letter to a loved one. Use paper and pen. Share a story of God's hope you've experienced, and pass along that delight as you mail it!
Walking the Middle Way - November 3
Reflection for November 3, 2020
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 61, 62; PM Psalm 37:1-9; Ecclus. 43:1-22; 1 Corinthians 2:6-16; John 17:18-23
Today’s Reflection
“Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him. Do not fret yourself over the one who prospers, the one who succeeds in evil schemes. Refrain from anger, leave rage alone; do not fret yourself; it leads only to evil.” –Psalm 37: 7-9
Well, today is the big day. The day we have all been anticipating. It’s a momentous day in world history. Yes, that’s right, it’s the feast day of one of our favorite Anglican theologians, Richard Hooker!
Now, of course, we know there are other reasons why today is very important to the life of our nation and indeed the world. But it’s serendipitous that Election Day 2020 is November 3, the day in our church calendar when we give thanks for the life of Richard Hooker, who died on this day in 1600. Born in 1554, Hooker went on to be ordained a priest at age 25 (in 1579), and then died at (what was then) the ripe old age of 46.
Hooker’s major scholarly contribution to the life of the church is his treatise, The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity—which is to say, he developed some influential ideas on church governance. Hooker is recognized for articulating a vision of the via media, the middle way, which has over the past 400 years become one of the most defining characteristics of Anglican (and Episcopal) belief and practice. As one biographer, Robert Rea, observed, “Hooker’s aim was to emphasize the unity of Christendom before its divisions by pointing out first the things in which all Christians agreed: ‘I took it for the best and most perspicuous way of teaching, to declare first, how far we do agree, and then to show our disagreements.’” (If you are interested in reading more of Hooker’s life, you can read more about him here.)
The scripture readings appointed for Hooker’s feast day are instructive ones for us to reflect on today, the day we as Americans come together to cast our ballots to elect the next cadre of people who will lead our communities, states, and nation. In the passage from John’s Gospel, we hear Jesus praying for a unity amongst believers that will reflect the unity between the Father and the Son: “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (John 17: 21-23).
And how are we empowered to be the kind of people who can embody this unity? Paul, in one of his letters to the Corinthians, points us toward being guided by the Holy Spirit in how we see our world and conduct ourselves in it: “these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. … Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God. And we speak of these things in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit” (1 Cor. 12: 10, 12-13). As we center ourselves in prayer today, being attuned to the guiding of the Holy Spirit, the Psalmist reassures us that, “He will make your righteousness as clear as the light and your just dealing as the noonday. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him” (Ps. 37: 6-7).
—Becky+
Collect for Richard Hooker: O God of truth and peace, who raised up your servant Richard Hooker in a day of bitter controversy to defend with sound reasoning and great charity the catholic and reformed religion: Grant that we may maintain that middle way, not as a compromise for the sake of peace, but as a comprehension for the sake of truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. (Lesser Feasts & Fasts 2018)
Questions for Self-Reflection
What does embodying “the middle way” mean for you in the way you interact with others, especially in this election season?
How can we as Christians simultaneously appreciate our diversity while maintaining a unity that attracts people to the body of Christ (rather than repelling them from the church)?
Daily Challenge
As you go about your life on this Election Day, and in the days and weeks that follow, commit to praying how you may walk along this “middle way,” promoting unity and peace with your neighbors in the church, in our community, and in our nation.
How you spend your free time - November 2
Daily Reflection for November 2, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Ecclus. 38:24-34; Rev. 14:1-13; Luke 12:49-59
I came across a fascinating letter this past week. In 2006, a group of high school students in New York was encouraged to write their favorite authors for advice as part of an assignment. Kurt Vonnegut was the only author who replied, and I am enclosing a copy of his response here.
“Dear Xavier High School, and Ms. Lockwood, and Messrs Perin, McFeely, Batten, Maurer and Congiusta:
I thank you for your friendly letters. You sure know how to cheer up a really old geezer (84) in his sunset years. I don’t make public appearances any more because I now resemble nothing so much as an iguana.
What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.
Seriously! I mean starting right now, do art and do it for the rest of your lives. Draw a funny or nice picture of Ms. Lockwood, and give it to her. Dance home after school, and sing in the shower and on and on. Make a face in your mashed potatoes. Pretend you’re Count Dracula.
Here’s an assignment for tonight, and I hope Ms. Lockwood will flunk you if you don’t do it: Write a six line poem, about anything, but rhymed. No fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can. But don’t tell anybody what you’re doing. Don’t show it or recite it to anybody, not even your girlfriend or parents or whatever, or Ms. Lockwood. OK?
Tear it up into teeny-weeny pieces, and discard them into widely separated trash recepticals [sic]. You will find that you have already been gloriously rewarded for your poem. You have experienced becoming, learned a lot more about what’s inside you, and you have made your soul grow.
God bless you all!
Kurt Vonnegut”
The school claims that the letter is real. Who knows as Vonnegut died in 2007. But this advice is as timely as ever. How many of us are told that we are valued and measured by what we can produce? Listen to the author of Ecclesiasticus who says, “The wisdom of the scribe depends on the opportunity of leisure; only the one who has little business can become wise.” What a counter-cultural approach! We cannot learn solely from news, books, and classroom instruction, but must nurture our soul in order to gain the wisdom of the Lord. Our children might have lost six months of formal education through this pandemic, but maybe they have developed something much more important. Maybe we all have come to appreciate a little more the gift of leisure.
This section of Ecclesiasticus continues by contrasting the importance of labor. “All these rely on their hands, and all are skillful in their own work. Without them no city can be inhabited, and wherever they live, they will not go hungry. Yet they are not sought out for the council of people” (38:31-32). The author of this ancient letter is claiming that for wisdom to flourish, we must have ample time to spend in leisure.
Vonnegut offers us a why. In his words, to experience becoming, you have to learn what is inside of you. You have to nurture what is underneath. What a fascinating and timely idea when over the next two days our country will be voting for local and national leaders. I have never considered the relationship between leisure activities and leadership before in how it shapes someone to appreciate even more in this life while bestowing upon them the qualities to lead. And the same wisdom applies to you and me. If God has created everything thing that is and ever shall be, maybe our own practice of appreciating the beauty of the world will fill us not only with joy and wonder but wisdom as well. What should you be doing in your free time?
John+
Questions for self-reflection: What are your hobbies and leisure activities? How do you unplug from work?
Daily Challenge: Take Vonnegut’s advice and write a six-line poem that rhymes. Make it meaningful, and yet write it merely for your own pleasure and enjoyment.
The Puzzle - October 31
Reflection for October 31, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23), Ecclus. 35:1-17; Rev. 13:11-18; Luke 12:32-48
My childhood friend Brooke generously invited me along with her family to the beach during our teenage years. On rainy afternoons when we were stuck indoors, we would sit on the plush carpet of her parents’ condominium in Florida and work on a puzzle. The minutes would melt by as I focused intently on the curves and angles of the tiny cardboard pieces. What gratification I felt upon clicking just the right one into place, completing a section…solving a portion of the 500 piece mystery. Even today, I love puzzles. They bring me a sense of calm, as I slow down and leave behind the messiness of life for just a little while. There is a meditative quality to the discipline of searching for patterns. I am struck by the realizations that arise from the movement between surveying the puzzle’s broad landscape, to the intricacy of how a bicycle spoke pairs with the boards of a footbridge lined with flowers.
While the subject matter of Revelation 13 is quite jarring and disturbing, the word that bubbles up as I peruse the scripture is “puzzle”. The reflection presented by John of Patmos is a visceral, terrifying amalgamation of images and symbols, numbers and calculations. A beast rising out of the sea has 7 heads and 10 horns with 10 diadems. Another beast rises out of the earth that has 2 horns and speaks like a dragon. Signs are performed, deceptions happen, and people are marked on the hand or forehead with the name of the beast or the number of its name. In order to understand, we “calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a person. It is the number six hundred and sixty-six.” (Rev 13:18)
As we put together the puzzle presented in this apocalyptic literature and try to live into wisdom, we may feel pulled to decode symbols. We want to understand what is being revealed, right? In this vein, there is an ancient practice called gematria that assigns significance to the sums of numerical values placed upon letters, and many theories have been proposed through that field of study. (Michael Gorman explores this and other avenues in his book Reading Revelation Responsibly.) We even may opt to avoid certain patterns and numbers that are considered “of the beast”. (Did you know that hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia is the technical term for the fear of the number 666?)
We also get to step back to see the larger picture of scripture and of the culture of the time. This piece of Revelation is a component of the prophetic drama revealing the truth and danger surrounding the Church bearing witness to the risen Christ in the world. Jesus as King of Heaven is not as disturbing to the empire, but Jesus as King of the Earth creates deep discomfort and uncertainty among those in temporal power. Those implications are a threat to the Roman Empire. Emperors were deified, with prayers made to them and their likenesses impressed upon coins across the kingdom as the legal tender. Jesus as Messiah – and the followers of his movement – threatened the imperial cult followings that solidified the stability of ancient Rome. The responses that followed were much like a beast lashing out against innocent lambs; followers of the Way were hunted and slaughtered. This was part of the backdrop at play in Revelation.
As we look to our 21st century Christian context, what can we take from this puzzle? Perhaps we are to take a deeper, questioning stance of ourselves and our surroundings: how are we intermingling representations of God’s will in civil religion? Are we representing God in truth? How might we be falling into Lamb-like routines that are raising up the human empire, rather than glorifying God? It’s a tricky, spooky space to consider. I’ll admit, it makes me uncomfortable to mull it over. I’m not fully sure where to go next – and that is what makes this a reflection on scripture and not a definitive interpretation!
What do I know is this: Jesus reminded his friends to be dressed for action and have their lamps lit (Luke 12:35). We are called to keep awake and aware. Let us keep studying the puzzles in front of us. Let us keep wrestling with how authentically we are living into God’s commandments and Jesus’ footsteps. And when we’re feeling weary and worried, let’s listen to Jesus’ encouragement: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32)
-- Katherine+
Questions for Reflection
What is a piece of God's truth that you need to hear today?
Where are you praying for God's peace to bring sense to the puzzle of your life?
Daily Challenge
Feeling stressed today? Embrace whimsy: imagine the source of your tension as a monster. Describe it: color, composition, attributes, etc. How does creating a visual image of that stressful entity create a way for you to cope with it?
Renew a Right Spirit in Me - October 30
Reflection for October 30, 2020
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Ecclus. 34:1-8,18-22; Rev. 13:1-10; Luke 12:13-31
Today’s Reflection
Athanasius observed how, “Among all the books, the Psalter has certainly a very special grace… that within it are represented and portrayed in all their great variety the movements of the human soul. It is like a picture, in which you see yourself portrayed and, seeing, may understand and consequently form yourself upon the pattern given.”
Some passages from Scripture we have heard or read so many times that they may lose their impact. Psalm 23 or 1 Corinthians 13 come to mind. Similarly, Psalm 51 is another passage that we have heard so many times that, on the one hand, we feel a certain comfort in its familiarity, and in that way we feel happy when encounter it again and again in our Common Prayer.
At the same time, speaking from my own experience, I have read parts of Psalm 51 so often as part of Morning Prayer or the shorter Morning Devotion in the Book of Common Prayer that, in order for it to continue to wash its meaning over me in a way that lasts, I have to make myself stop and re-read it. I re-read it in part because I need to hear what it is saying to me and the way in which it is helping me to understand myself in relationship to God.
But I also force myself to stop and re-read those lines more slowly, pausing between them to let them sink in, because I want what I am praying in those words to be my prayer:
Have mercy on me, O God… [pause] Cleanse me from my sin… [pause] Create in me a clean heart… [pause] Put a new and right spirit within me… [pause] Restore to me the joy of your salvation.
What we learn and find evidence for as we pray Psalm 51 is that our mistakes—our sins—hurt God because we are in relationship with God. As James Mays observes, “Only where people believe that their life is lived in the presence of God, is a gift of God, is summoned and measured, is responsible and accountable to the One who is the source of life—only there does sin as experience and language rise.”
So, when we read here in Psalm 51 that the psalmist has sinned against God alone, this tells us that the psalmist and God know each other. We cannot hurt someone (well, not as deeply, anyway) if we do not know them. So, whether we are talking about David repenting of his misdeeds, or of us repenting of something we “have done or left undone,” God knows about it, cares about it, and is disappointed about it because of being in relationship with us.
This reminds me of the dynamic when I feel disappointed when another family member does something that runs counter to the expectations of how we treat one another in our family—or their disappointment when they see me not following through with something I promised I would do for them. If I never spoke to or interacted with them, then we would probably have less opportunity for conflict. The fact that we do disagree or disappoint or hurt one another does point to the fact that we are living with and actually interacting with each other—we have conflict and disappointment to repent and forgive because we are in relationship, because we have a closeness between us.
Yes, I mess up daily—family life is the main occasion for mistake-making in my life. As a parent and as a spouse, I see that I am constantly falling short in terms of patience and kindness—but I can admit my wrong and be forgiven, and I can model the same to them when they repent of whatever thing they “have done or left undone.” This allows us to have a close relationship as family members, even though we disappoint each other and make mistakes in how we treat each other every day.
Love is what allows us to hold in creative tension a close, caring relationship—between us and God, and between us and our neighbor—with sin, repentance, and, ultimately, forgiveness. Psalm 51 is about repentance. But Psalm 51 is mostly about love—the love of a God who wants to stay in relationship with us, his imperfect yet perfectly loved children.
—Becky+
Questions for Self-Reflection
Which lines in Psalm 51 resonate most with you? How do hear yourself and your own relationship with God reflected in the psalmist’s words to God?
Daily Challenge
Take some time today to reflect on what it might mean for God to create in you a clean heart and a right spirit. Would praying each day for God to renew your clean heart and right spirit change the way you approach the responsibilities and relationships entrusted to you?
Energy is Love under many forms - October 29
Daily Reflection for October 29, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 33; Ecclus. 31:12-18,25-32:2; Rev. 12:7-17; Luke 11:53-12:12
My Tuesday book group just finished “The Year of Magical Thinking” by Joan Didion. Didion’s work is an exposition into her own grief after the loss of her husband and daughter. She writes about finding meaning in her younger years in the Episcopal litany “most acutely in the words as it was in the beginning, now and ever shall be, world without end, which (she) interpreted as a literal description of the constant changing earth, the unending erosion of the shores and mountains, the inexorable shifting of the geological structures that could throw up mountains and islands and could just as reliably take them away.” Didion found hope in acknowledging that life and this earth is out of our control.
Likewise, Jesus tells his friends that we should “not fear those who kill the body, and after that can do nothing more” Luke 12:4. Jesus then has this interplay between those who deny and those who acknowledge God (12:8-11). Jesus is pointing us to the eternal nature of God, which our language can best describe as Love, the defining force of the universe that “was in the beginning, now and ever shall be, world without end.” Jesus concludes with a message of hope reminding believers not to worry “for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that very hour what you ought to say” (12:12).
In Richard Rohr’s latest work, The Universal Christ, he talks about Love as the universal structure of the Universe. He references French Jesuit priest, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955) who surmises, “gravity, atomic bonding, orbits, cycles, photosynthesis, ecosystems, force fields, electromagnetic fields, sexuality, human friendship, animal instinct, and evolution all reveal an energy that is attracting all things and beings to one another” (pg. 69). Even a ninth-grade science class will understand the atomic level to be energy and matter that are attracted to each other. I had never thought of it this way before, but Rohr simply claims, “energy is … love under many different forms” (pg. 69)
Think about the cosmic nature of this understanding - everything in our existence is part of the universal design of God’s love and attraction. This love is the force that draws us to appreciate art and beauty, or fall in love with another human being, or create music, deepen friendships, or stand in support, love, and solidarity for our fellow humankind. This attraction is a part of the force of God’s love flowing through the universe. It is that which has always been there and will always be.
Thinking of God’s love in this way has been helpful for me because it reminds me that when I love too, when I participate in God’s life-giving attraction, my life has a deeper and more eternal purpose. It enables me, in Jesus’s words, to “not fear those who kill the body, and after that can do nothing more.” If there is eternal love flowing through this universe drawing all things together, then I can let go of the worry of the temporary nature of today. The mountains might move to, but it is a force of something large at work.
Where is your worry for our life today? What is that you fear, and does it have command over the way you live into God’s call for you? If we are to accept Rohr’s premise, maybe the best way we could translate verse twelve of this passage is “Do not fear, for God’s way of love will guide you this hour and all the hours and help your life conform to the universal love which defines our Universe.”
John+
Questions for Self-Reflection: Have you thought before about the interplay between physics, attraction, and God’s love? What do you feel most connected to in life? What do you feel most disconnected from?
Daily Challenge: Pay attention to how you feel called into life-giving and nurturing conversations, relationships, and work. Consider this part of God’s love attracting all things.
Social Media as Slander? - October 28
Daily Reflection for Wednesday, October 28.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; Ecclus. 28:14-26; Rev. 12:1-6; Luke 11:37-52
A college friend of mine ended up living nearby when I was in seminary. Jim would often come over in the evenings to sit on the apartment patio and “philosophize” and catch up. Most conversations included a cigar. Jim loved to argue about the meaning of life, existence, the universe, politics, sports, and just about anything you could imagine. No topic was left unturned. And it wasn’t about being right, just an exploration of the human mind. Feelings were never hurt. And we had a whole lot of fun as we solved all the problems of the world.
Actually, no problems were solved, but it did deepen our friendship and we still check in periodically to this day. I was thinking of Jim as I have been wrestling with trying to understand the great experiment of social media. When Facebook came out, people joined to connect with friends and share pictures. As time passed, people became connected to more and more people as their experiences in life deepened. At the same time, the way we engaged in learning, the consumption of news and information moved from books and television to the palms of our hands and the phones in our pockets.
Think about how different the world is from ten years ago. Ten years ago, we would debate ideas with a friend over a cigar on a patio. Today, we share an opinion piece, a meme, a news story, or an idea with 2,000 of our friends online in an effort to make some kind of point that either helps us feel better about where we have arrived, or is an effort to shape our online identity or presence. I wonder if we think we are having a personal conversation with a few of our friends that would be much more appropriate for patio debates.
The Old Testament lessons this week are taken from Ecclesiasticus, also known as the Wisdom of Sirach, one of the handful of times we hear lessons from the Apocrypha. It is a Jewish book of ethical teachings and today’s readings focus is on the power of slander. Listen to this portion of chapter 28 – “Slander has shaken many and scattered them from nation to nation; it has destroyed strong cities and overturned the houses of great” (28:14-15). Later, the author reminds us that “many have fallen by the edge of the sword, but not as many as have fallen because of the tongue” (28:18). I am left wondering is a social media account the modern-day tongue? Could it be, that when we share news, or opinions, or ideas in such a vast, large, and irresponsible way that what we are really engaged in is slander?
Maybe I am being a little extreme, but the author further says, “Happy is one who is protected from it, who has not been exposed to its anger, who has not borne its yoke, and has not been bound with its fetters” (28:19). I guess the irony is, I am writing this in order to share with our Daily Reflection email list and then share the reflection on social media. But if it helps us to “take care not to err with your tongue, and fall victim to one lying in wait” (28:26) then we will all be better for it.
And the irony of this all is I am writing this with the purpose of sharing on social media. Maybe some good can come?
- John+
Questions for Self-Reflection: How have debates or challenging questions helped you to grow? Do you have friends like Jim who help you to explore new ideas?
Daily Challenge: Consider today the weight of words. Make a plan to reduce what could be considered as slander from your own practice of communication.
Faith + Imagination - October 27
Daily Reflection for October 27, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 45; PM Psalm 47, 48; Ecclus. 24:1-12; Rev. 11:14-19; Luke 11:27-36
I laughed out loud when I read our New Testament reading today. It begins, “The second woe has passed. The third woe is coming very soon.” The book of Revelation has nothing on the year 2020. I just read they found the first nest of Murder Hornets in Washington state. Dear 2020, the forty-seventh woe has passed and the forty-eight is coming soon.
When I was in college, the “Left Behind” series was written and became wildly popular. The books were written as if the book of Revelation was an apocalyptic prophecy for what is to come when Jesus returns. The book starts out with the rapture, with what are described as true Christians just disappearing from earth. The series is about the people ‘left behind’ after the rapture to figure the mess out. Some become Christians and others follow the Mark of the Beast. It is a story of good verse evil. There is violence and destruction, plagues, and earthquakes, and much more. It was a whole lot of fun to read.
I didn’t realize until after finishing the books, that many people assumed this was nonfiction, written as if this was the real way the story will unfold. Many fundamental Christians see Revelation as a future prediction of the world to come. But apocalyptic literature was not new when the Book of Revelation was written. At that time, apocalyptic literature was a common genre which used creative imagery to help the reader process conflict and turmoil in their current setting. When communities and people faced violence, conflict, and oppression, the use of vivid imagery, especially visions of a heavenly realm became hopeful stories. Imagination became a tool to help people cope with extreme challenges. In Jewish Literature such as 1 Enoch, Daniel 7-12, 4 Ezra, 2 Baruch, and The Apocalypse of Abraham, we see such imagination but none have captured the attention of Christians as the Book of Revelation.
Maybe there is something to be learned from Apocalyptic literature. I think we keep looking for science, data, or knowledge to pull us out of our shared reality. The book of Revelation offers us a different tool. Faith plus imagination can become a way of handling unforeseen challenges. Do you think of your imagination as a tool to help you thrive in the midst of this crazy year? What kind of hopeful world can we imagine when this year has passed? What if we used art, or music, or literature to dream about it? If you were the author of a new story of Revelation how would it end? When all else fails, maybe our imaginations can help us through this day.
John+
Questions for Self-Reflection: Do you consider yourself to have an active imagination? Was there a time in your life that you used to dream or imagine more? Why is this so?
Daily Challenge: Use one of your creative outlets to dream of the world we are to inherit. Maybe poetry, art, or music could be a tool.
Sheep and Goat Socks - October 26
Daily Reflection for October 26, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Ecclus. 19:4-17; Rev. 11:1-14; Luke 11:14-26
My friend Grey went to the Holy Land several years ago and brought back a gift of socks for me. The left sock had goats and the right sock had sheep printed on the fabric. He sent me a little note of encouragement. “John, this is so you can remember that the sheep are on the right and the goats are on the left because Jesus said, ‘But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. Before him, all the nations will be gathered, and he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left’ (Matthew 25:31-33).” Grey was sure to say, as long as you put your socks on the correct feet, you will never forget how Jesus will divide us.
Today’s Gospel from Luke is a different message from the Gospel of Matthew. As the crowd is taunting Jesus and making some bold accusations about him, Jesus turns and says to the crowd, “Every kingdom divided against itself becomes a desert, and house falls on house.” It is hard for me not to read this passage and think about our current state of affairs, the upcoming election, and our tendency as humans to project blame on each other. We, like many others, too often see the world as sheep and goats, where division is necessary to weed out the impure or incorrect beliefs of others. Maybe that is why many of us have found hope in the Episcopal Church, which her best days, has been a place where we are bound in common worship and not necessarily common belief. We can sit next to someone we disagree with, love them, value them, and find our common bond in Jesus Christ. I see this same practice lived out in our online worship as we greet each other with love and warmth.
A few months after I received the socks from Grey. I stood in front of the congregation where I had grown up, attending church weekly and school chapel a few times a week. This time I was wearing some sheep and goats on my feet and was invited to preach from the Gospel of Matthew. As I walked to the pulpit without my shoes on, looking down at my toes and then out in the congregation, it was clear as ever that Jesus didn’t come to divide us against each other. We all have both sheepness and goatness within ourselves.
It’s a divisive time, and Jesus’s words are a reminder that our kingdom can become a desert and our houses can collapse. But this division isn’t from competing political views or a differing of opinions. It comes from failing to recognize that each other are necessary for our common thriving. We need each other. May we remember that not only these next few weeks but for the ages to come.
- John+
Questions for Self-Reflection: What does Christianity unity look like to you? How can a faith community find unity in a divisive time?
Daily Challenge: If sheepness and goatness could be the division within our own selves, spend time considering what Jesus is trying to push out of your life and what Jesus is trying to cultivate.
Pray Persistently...Just Don't Wake My Kids, Please! - October 24
Reflection for October 24, 2020.
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 30, 32; PM Psalm 42, 43; Rev. 10:1-11; Luke 11:1-13
Part of a vignette Jesus offers his disciples in the excerpt from Luke 11 rubs me the wrong way. The disciples ask their leader to teach them to pray, as John the Baptist instructed his own followers. Jesus teaches them the words to say – what we know as the Lord’s Prayer. He doesn’t leave it there. He proposes a scenario in which one of them appeals to a friend in the middle of the night for bread for a visitor who has just arrived. In the parallel put forth, the inhabitant of the house says, “Do not bother me, the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed. I cannot get up and give you anything.” In spite of the inclination to decline the midnight pleas, Jesus implores his listeners to be persistent, for it is in persistence that their appeals – for bread or in prayer – will be answered.
It’s not that I have an issue with answered prayers. I feel pushback because I, too, would avoid answering the door in the middle of the night – especially if my kids were asleep. As a parent of young children, waking my children is highly disruptive. I limit my movements to avoid putting their sleeping status in peril! And yet, if I think about it, I guess would get up to answer and help a friend in dire need…if only to stop the banging on the door.
Jesus’ call to persistent prayer will help his disciples stay focused on the core of their work: the Lord God. Jesus’ call to persistent prayer will help us as followers of The Way. Find spaces in your day to lift your whole self to God in prayer. Perhaps use this iteration, that is based upon the words Jesus offered to his friends in Luke:
“O Lord, you are supreme – even saying your name connects me to the Holy.
May this place I live grow to resemble your Kingdom.
Please nourish me and all who hunger today – with our fill of food and grace – so that we may live for one more day.
Forgive me as I sin today. I return my whole self to you right now.
Help me to believe that I am worthy of your love and forgiveness, and help me to be loving and forgiving of others.
Keep me safe and aware of you in the hard moments of today.”
Friends, be persistent in your prayer. Jesus gives three action words to his disciples: ask; search; and knock. Notice that he employs our voices, eyes, and hands in prayer. Be attentive to how you use your voice in speaking or singing prayers and praises to God. Be aware of where you fix your eyes when you pray. What are your hands doing when you pray?
Jesus reminded his friends that living a life faithful to God required some structure of prayer life, persistence, and the use of multiple senses. Join me along the journey!
-- Katherine+
Questions for Reflection
What are the prayers you bring to God regularly?
What practices help you open yourself to God? Listen for God?
Daily Challenge
Take a look at the Lord’s Prayer in Luke 11. What words or phrases have deep meaning for you today? Write those words down on a piece of paper. Take a few minutes and attempt to re-write the Lord’s Prayer (in a way similar to the reflection), making sure you include those phrases that resonate deeply with you. Sit in silence for one minute and then pray your prayer to God.