The Language of Forgiveness - November 20

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 107:33-43, 108:1-6(7-13); PM Psalm 33; Isa. 65:17-25; Rev. 22:14-21; Matt. 18:21-35

Today’s Reflection

Then Peter came and said to him, ‘Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.  –Matthew 18: 21-22

Every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we pray this: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” This version of the prayer is not the one I grew up with. I grew up praying, “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.” But the version that I prefer is neither of these. The version I prefer is the one in the right-hand column in the Book of Common Prayer, the one translated into more contemporary language:

Our Father in heaven,
     hallowed be your Name,
     your kingdom come,
     your will be done,
         on earth as in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our sins
     as we forgive those
         who sin against us.
Save us from the time of trial,
     and deliver us from evil.
For the kingdom, the power,
     and the glory are yours,
     now and for ever. Amen.

I prefer this version because it makes it more clear why we are asking to receive forgiveness and to extend it to others: sin. We make mistakes. We fall short. We fail to follow Christ’s example of self-emptying love. We do not take seriously enough the commands to love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our mind, and with strength, and to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. This simple prayer, prayed by Jesus himself, helps us to re-center ourselves and our faith on what is most essential: honoring God, submitting to God’s will, trusting in God’s provision, asking for God’s forgiveness, and following that up by asking for God to save us and deliver us from those circumstances in which we might be more likely to fall into sin.

We also have beautiful language in our Prayer Book to guide us as we confess our sins against God and our neighbor:

Most merciful God,
we confess that we have sinned against you
in thought, word, and deed,
by what we have done,
and by what we have left undone.
We have not loved you with our whole heart;
we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.
We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.
For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ,
have mercy on us and forgive us;
that we may delight in your will,
and walk in your ways,
to the glory of your Name. Amen.

In this prayer of confession, we are given a structure for acknowledging our sins, mistakes we have made “in thought, word, and deed,” those things “we have done” as well as those “we have left undone.” Alongside this language of acknowledgement of our sins, we are also given language to guide us toward asking for God’s mercy and forgiveness, and toward the hopefulness of delighting in God’s will and walking in God’s ways. We are not required to stay there in that place of wallowing in our sinfulness. Rather, we are guided toward acknowledging and letting go of our sins so that we may find rest and delight in the gracious, merciful presence of God.

Forgiveness is hard work. We human beings like to be right and sometimes we like to hold onto grudges. That makes forgiving others hard. And as hard as it is to forgive others sometimes, it can be even harder to forgive ourselves, to show ourselves grace and mercy. Peter asks Jesus how many times do we have to forgive someone before we’re not required to forgive anymore? Seven times? No, seventy-seven times! In other words, you must keep on forgiving—even when you are tired of forgiving, even when it doesn’t seem to be making a difference in the world. Forgiveness is not optional, forgiveness is required.

The Good News is that God offers us unending forgiveness through all that he has done for us in Christ. God isn’t keeping score. God isn’t going to stop forgiving us once we hit sin number 78! Which is a good thing, because I don’t know about you, but I know for certain I’ve sinned way more than 77 times! Being confident in God’s unending love, mercy, and forgiveness gives us an unending wellspring from which we can draw the refreshing, life-giving waters of forgiveness that we can in turn pour out to others (and to ourselves) when they (and we) are thirsting after mercy and grace.

Today’s Gospel focused on God’s forgiveness and ours reminded me of some lines from a song I haven’t heard in many years, “Just Come In” by Margaret Becker. I hope these lyrics that floated back into my mind as I was reflecting on forgiveness will be encouraging to you today, too.

You think you’ve crossed
Some sacred line
And now I will ignore you
If you look up
You will find
My heart is still toward you
Look at the sky
The east to the west
That’s where I threw this
When you first confessed
Let it go now

Just come in
Just leave that right there
Love does not care
Just come in
Lay your heart right here
You should never fear

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Reflect on a memorable moment in which you extended someone forgiveness (or they offered you forgiveness, or mutual forgiveness was extended). How did that moment of forgiveness allow you to remain in relationship with that person? How did it change the nature of your interactions with one another moving forward?

Daily Challenge

You can find the full lyrics and audio to Margaret Becker’s song here and can listen to it through most music streaming services.

You Are Loved - November 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; 1 Macc. 4:36-59; Rev. 22:6-13; Matt. 18:10-20

Today’s Reflection

What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. –Matthew 18: 12-13

The past couple weeks, I’ve been reading through Rachel Held Evans’ book, Wholehearted Faith. The chapter I just finished is titled “Jonathan Edwards is Not My Homeboy.” In these pages, Held Evans reflects on two very different mindsets that exist amongst Christians. The first mindset, the one held by Puritan preacher Jonathan Edwards and his descendants, emphasizes human beings’ inherent sinfulness and that, because of our sinfulness, we are all deserving of eternal damnation. But these Christians (those who hold more to the Calvinist tradition) believe that God has foreordained a way out for the elect (those who God chooses in advance). This is the mindset that Held Evans found herself surrounded by as a young adult—and though she believed she was one of the elect, she began to feel increasingly troubled that the God who she knew to be a God of love would turn his back on countless others who were not among the chosen.

Over time, Rachel Held Evans began to realize that she didn’t have to believe that we are just “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” (the title of Edwards’ most well-known sermon). Instead, Held Evans grew more and more confident that it is OK to believe in a God who has extravagant love for us—a God, who as we are reminded in Jesus’ words in Matthew 18, will run after that one sheep in the hundred who strays from the sheepfold. Not only that, but God will “rejoice over” that one who strayed but returns more than the 99 sheep who never went anywhere.

I believe there are times when any of one of us has been that 1 in the 100 who has strayed for a time—we have followed our own inclinations and maybe made some mistakes. Or we have chosen to spend less and less time in God’s presence. Or in some way, we have turned away from being a part of the flock. But knowing that God is always there to guide us back and, not only that, but to rejoice when we return is one of the most comforting passages we have been given in our Holy Scriptures.

A moment that stood out to Held Evans as she reflected on her own spiritual paradigm shift was encountering a poem by Daniel Ladinsky, written from the perspective of Saint Francis of Assisi, in which she read these lines: “I think God might be a little prejudiced. For once He asked me to join Him on a walk through this world, and we gazed into every heart on this earth, and I noticed He lingered a bit longer before any face that was weeping, and before any eyes that were laughing. And sometimes when we passed a soul in worship, God would kneel down. I have come to learn: God adores his Creation.” At first, Held Evans was shocked by these words, they seemed at the time “dangerous, heretical even.” But over time, as she continued to ponder the thought that “God adores His creation,” she found her heart changed: “That poem cracked open a longing inside me that had been shut up for years. It was a longing for love, and not just generic love—because nobody wants to be loved in general—but specific love, the kind of love that sees every complicated and intimate detail of a person’s life and delights in it and embraces it” (73).

As she continued her pilgrimage toward a different kind of Christian faith, Held Evans also found hope in the research and writing of Brene Brown, a sociologist who in her investigation of people’s experiences of shame made some unexpected discoveries about resilience. Just as Held Evans writes about wholehearted faith, she was inspired by Brown’s writing on wholehearted living. What Brown discovered and has gone on to share widely through books and presentations around the world is this: “I realized that only one thing separated men and women who felt a deep sense of love and belonging from the people who seemed to be struggling for it. That thing was the belief in their worthiness… If we want to fully experience love and belonging, we must believe that we are worthy of love and belonging.”

We must believe that we are sheep worthy of belonging in God’s sheepfold—and that we are so loved that God will search for us and lead us back when we stray. We must believe that we are worthy of God’s love and that we belong with God. We are worthy because God created us, and God loves us—we do not have to earn our worth in God’s eyes. We just have to believe in it.

A classmate of mine at the Seminary of the Southwest, Rick Lopez, was originally a Catholic priest. But he came to see that he was not unconditionally accepted by the Catholic Church. Though he had already been serving as a priest for several years, Rick went back to seminary for a year as part of the process of being ordained as an Episcopal priest. One of the things that is most striking about Rick is his unwavering commitment to making sure that everyone knows that they are loved by God. He regularly tells people this very simple, lifechanging message—whether in person, through social media posts, through small cards he had printed, or on a banner he placed outside his church: “You are beautiful and you are loved.”

You are beautiful and you are loved. Never forget that you are one that our Good Shepherd will always search for, will always find, and will always rejoice over every time you return to the fold.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What are some moments in your life when you have felt distant from or even separated from God? How did you experience God’s love in a way that brought you back into the sheepfold? Who did God send to search for you, find you, and rejoice when you returned? Who reminded you that you belong with God, that you are beautiful and beloved in God’s sight?

Daily Challenge

You can read more about Rick Lopez’ ministry in this article in the Odessa, Texas newspaper.

Faith Like a Child - November 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 105:1-22; PM Psalm 105:23-45; 1 Macc. 4:1-25; Rev. 21:22-22:5; Matt. 18:1-9

I watched a beautiful and tender exchange on Sunday morning.  A young child, probably under a year old, thrust her arm forward to receive communion.  Her palm was wide open, fingers beckoning the Holy Eucharist. One of her parents was trying to pull back her hand.  I looked at the parents, and nodded, and said, “Can she receive?” and the young child’s hand was released to receive the body of Christ.  As is often the case, parents wonder when their child can receive, wondering about how much their child must understand or know to receive God’s Holy gift.

There is something powerful about an arm reaching forward with a longing for what we cannot understand.  I teach our class on Eucharistic Theology and dive heavy into the 2500 years of philosophical understandings that deeply inform 2000 years of theology and the most honest answer I can come up with is a Holy mystery and encounter with the living God.  Watching the young girl extend her arm, reminds me that children have something to teach us about God.

Maybe this is why Jesus holds up the example of children inviting us to change and become like children.  They fully trust and put their lives into our hands.

We have been using the following prayer as our post-Communion prayer at our 5:00 p.m. Celtic service. 

Lord Jesus Christ,
you have put your life into our hands;
now we put our lives into yours.
Take us, renew us and remake us.
What we have been is past;
what we shall be, through you, still awaits us. Lead us on. Take us with you. Amen.

Our children entrust us to lead them on and take them with us.  It’s the same thing we pray for God to do with each of us.  May we learn from their example.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What have you learned from children or people much younger than you?  How does that impact who you are today?

Daily Challenge: Make an effort to have a child in your life teach you something new today or sometime this week. 

Mystery – November 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144
1 Macc. 3:42-60; Rev. 21:9-21; Matt. 17:22-27

Matthew 17 is full of mystery. The chapter opens with a hike up a mountain and the transfiguration of Jesus in front of Peter, James, and John. Jesus’ face glows like the sun and his clothes are radiantly white. Moses and Elijah show up and talk to him. Peter, ecstatic, offers to commemorate this amazing experience by erecting three tents. A cloud envelops them all, halting Peter’s brainstorming session; the booming voice of God says, “This is my beloved Son; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” The disciples hit the ground in terror. Jesus comes over to them in reassurance, “Get up and do not be afraid.” The group hikes back down the mountain; en route, Jesus commands that they say nothing about this fantastical experience until “after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead”.

The disciples do not ask questions to understand the ineffable encounter up on the mountain, or about what Jesus means about the Son of Man being raised from the dead. They ask why the scribes say Elijah must come first. The friends understand in Jesus’ response that it is John the Baptist who came to prepare the way for their teacher Jesus; the scribes of their day did not recognize or heed the messages John the Baptizer shared. Jesus tips his hat again to the hardship ahead: “the Son of Man is about to suffer at their hands”.

The people in positions of social and political power concern themselves more with the rules Jesus follows, than the holy power that Jesus wields. Those in dire need do believe and approach him, calling for help. Jesus casts a demon out of the man’s son who suffers from epilepsy. The boy is instantly cured. Jesus follows up with his students, who had tried to vanquish that spirit without success: bulk up on your faith, friends. If you have faith, you can move mountains. Nothing will be impossible for you.

In today’s appointed piece from Matthew, we hear Jesus tell his friends that “The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and on the third day he will be raised.” This message bothers the disciples. Three of them were up on that high mountain and heard God say, “This is my Son, who pleases me. Follow what he tells you!” The whole group sees these miracles of healing happening around them, and yet their leader and teacher is going to be killed – and there is nothing they can do about it. Do they wonder if God will stop the persecution? How does their faith in God get buffeted by the hard messages of warning Jesus keeps issuing? As kernels of doubt and despair fester, perhaps the miracles and mysteries keep the disciples grounded in belief. The holy experience on the mountain. The healing of the epileptic boy. And, at the end of Matthew 17: a fishing expedition will yield a fish with a coin in its mouth, enough to cover the temple tax for Jesus and Peter.

Friends, there are days that we do not feel or see the mystery. There are hard days of loss. There are hard days of disappointment and disbelief. And then, when we need them, we have brushes with the divine. Let us share bulk up our faith by sharing our stories with each other. Let us revisit these stories of Jesus, our teacher. Let us walk in faith and know that the darkness did not quench the light of the Messiah. God is stronger than death. God brought about the redemption of the world. God brought about the inversion of sadness, reversing the death of his perfect Son, raising him from the dead, and lifting him into the heavenly realm.

It is a mystery. And that mystery is what breaks apart the dense fog in our hearts and opens us up to God’s love.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Jesus and his friends experienced big life/faith experiences. How do you digest big experiences? Do you talk through them? Process internally? Write out your thoughts?

Daily Challenge

Spend a few minutes in Bible study today. Read Matthew chapter 17 as a whole. What images stand out to you? What messages do you need to hear from God in this piece of the Good News? What is God calling you to do today?

The Pearl of Scotland - November 16

Today’s Readings: Psalm 146:4-9; Proverbs 31:10-20; Matthew 13:44–46

Today’s Reflection

Only twice (so far) have I traveled to Edinburgh. The first time was in 1993, when I was studying abroad for a semester several hours south in Nottingham. Twenty years later I finally made it back, in 2013, when I took time to travel around the UK for a couple weeks while on sabbatical for the semester. My college friend Karen and I visited my old roommate Lisa in Peterborough, explored the Peak District with Lisa and her husband John, and then took off on our own to explore the Lake District and Edinburgh.

Both times I’ve been to Edinburgh I have done what most tourists are sure to do, which is to make the very steep climb up to Edinburgh Castle, which can be seen on its high hill from all around the city. Karen and I explored all the different nooks of the castle, learning about its dramatic history over the years. We took photos of each other outside with the massive canons and with the gorgeous backdrop of the city below, then made our way inside for tea to warm ourselves from the windy, cool fall weather.

One thing we came across in our few hours exploring has always stood out in my memory as very different from everything else a tourist can experience at this massive stone castle. We came across a small stone structure amidst all the buildings within the castle’s protective walls. This small building is called Saint Margaret’s Chapel, named for the Queen Margaret of Scotland, “the Pearl of Scotland,” who with her husband King Malcolm reigned in Scotland from the time of her marriage in 1070 until her death at age 47 in 1093.

This worship space was built in her honor about sixty years later, in 1130, by one of her sons, King David I, making it the oldest surviving structure in Edinburgh. Margaret and Malcolm had two daughters and six sons. Margaret was very devoted to their education as well as to encouraging them in their faith. Together with Malcolm, she paid for rebuilding the Iona Abbey and constructing Dunfermline Abbey, and over the years they were faithful supporters of the Benedictines.

Like the Benedictines, Margaret was a person deeply devoted to prayer and some accounts have it that she participated in the Mass as many as six times per day. She was also known to be a patron of schools and hospitals. Her devotion to sharing what she had extended beyond giving money to good causes to getting out into the community to wash the feet of the poor and break bread with them. As one account of Margaret’s personal piety describes:

“Although she was very much caught up in the affairs of the household and country, she remained detached from the world. Her private life was austere. She had certain times for prayer and reading Scripture. She ate sparingly and slept little in order to have time for devotions. She and Malcolm kept two Lents, one before Easter and one before Christmas. During these times she always rose at midnight for Mass. On the way home she would wash the feet of six poor persons and give them alms. She was always surrounded by beggars in public and never refused them. It is recorded that she never sat down to eat without first feeding nine orphans and 24 adults” (Franciscan Media).

Over time, the chapel built in her memory fell into other uses (like storing gunpowder!). Its original intention to be a chapel was not rediscovered and reembraced until the 1840s. Today, the chapel has been restored, stained glass windows of Margaret and other saints of Scotland were added, and the chapel is used regularly for small weddings and baptism services. The chapel is lovingly maintained by the Saint Margaret Guild, women who all share the name of Margaret and, among other things, make sure that arrangements of fresh flowers adorn the chapel throughout the year.

I found the chapel to be a corner of quiet respite amidst the crowds of tourists meandering through all the other parts of the sprawling castle. Learning Margaret’s story on that windy September day back in 2013 made an impression, and I still have the small book I bought about her that day on my shelf here at Saint Stephen’s. On this day, it’s worthwhile to learn from Margaret’s story of faithful devotion to God, her family, the church, and the wider community, especially her commitment to sharing what she had with those in need.

—Becky+

Collect for the Feast Day of Saint Margaret of Scotland

O God, who called your servant Margaret to an earthly throne that she might advance your heavenly kingdom, and gave her zeal for your church and love for your people: Mercifully grant that we also may be fruitful in good works, and attain to the glorious crown of your saints; though Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
 

Questions for Self-Reflection

Who are some figures from the history of the church and the wider world that have inspired you? What about their stories has captured your imagination and inspired you in your own faith?

Daily Challenge

You can read more of Margaret’s journey from Hungary to England and on to become Queen of Scotland here and here.

See photos and read more about Saint Margaret’s Chapel and the Guild who maintain it here.

The Different Images of Jesus - November 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52; 1 Macc. 3:1-24; Rev. 20:7-15; Matt. 17:1-13

For some reason, reading today’s Gospel reminds me of the hilarious prayer scene from the Blockbuster movie “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.”  This might be on my mind because somehow the staff has talked me into watching this movie together at the conclusion of our staff visioning retreat on Thursday.  I think the underlying premise is that it would be good for the soul for all of us to laugh together, and somehow this was the solution offered up by our staff.  But all of that is for another day. 

In an early scene where Ricky Bobby is offering a prayer for the food that is before them, a bountiful feast of Dominos, KFC, and the always delicious Taco Bell, an argument breaks out.  Ricky Bobby likes to imagine Jesus as a newborn child, and this becomes frustrating to some at the table.  The uncle has to remind everyone that Jesus was also a full-grown adult.  Ricky Bobby’s best friend then begins to share his favorite image of Jesus.  Spoiler:  He likes “to picture Jesus in a tuxedo T-shirt.”  It’s a ridiculous movie and here is the scene if you need a good laugh too.

The movie is on my mind because I am reading this passage this morning in dialogue with the resurrection account in John’s Gospel.  When read side by side, these two stories are such drastically different accounts of how people experience Jesus. Today’s reading is the transfiguration, where Peter, James, and John go up a mountain with Jesus and have a rather mystical experience.  All of a sudden, Jesus’s clothes become dazzling white and his face shines like never before.

In the twentieth chapter of John’s Gospel, Mary is weeping outside of the tomb, and she meets a man that she imagines to be the gardener. The description is so ordinary: the gardener.  In this account, it is the opposite of a transfiguration.  There are no radiant clothes or a dazzling face, just an ordinary man who she slowly begins to recognize as her friend Jesus. 

I’m struck by the vast difference between the two experiences.  One is the most ordinary of men, while the other is a truly extraordinary experience.  I suspect that some have found the comfort and healing of our loving God in the simple hospitality of an ordinary stranger.  For others, maybe you have come to know Jesus through a mountain top experience such as Happening, Cursillo, or any other of the amazing events that are impossible to reproduce.  The gift of reading these stories in dialogue, and really any differing stories in dialogue, is to expand the possibilities for how we might encounter Jesus. 

Where have you met Jesus?  Was it a teacher, a friend, a stranger, an immigrant, a small child, a grandparent, a prophetic voice, an artist, or a companion?  Was it through a mystical experience like Peter, James, and John had on top of the mountain?  Maybe all of these hold kernels of truth, but the real truth is we never know when and how Jesus is going to show up.  Our job is to be open to infinite possibilities.  Maybe even in a dude in a tuxedo T-shirt.   

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How do you imagine Jesus?  Does this impact your prayer life?  What could you do to be open to seeing Christ in more ways and in more people?

Daily Challenge:  If you are interested in learning more about one of the weekends named above such as Happening or Cursillo, please reach out to one of our clergy or read about Cursillo here.

Satisfaction - November 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 87, 90; PM Psalm 136; 1 Macc. 2:1-28; Rev. 20:1-6; Matt. 16:21-28

In the Terrace Room at Saint Stephen’s this past Tuesday afternoon, I welcomed the family who had gathered prior to the funeral. As we prepared to share Eucharist together, there were preschool children skipping and jumping about on the playground. While there were tear-filled eyes in the Terrace Room, my heart felt full with the cycle of beginning and end that continue swirling – and God – the Alpha and the Omega – is never far from us in those waves. Wherever we are, the words of Psalm 90 ring in my heart:

Lord, you have been our refuge
from one generation to another.

Interestingly, the psalm read in unison during that service Tuesday was a portion of Psalm 90, appointed for today. The timelessness and eternity of God washes over me:

Before the mountains were brought forth,
or the land and the earth were born,
from age to age you are God.

You turn us back to the dust and say,
"Go back, O child of earth."

For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past
and like a watch in the night.

Our human experience is fleeting in God’s time, and yet we are reminded that what we do and who we are to one another matters. While we are in the midst of time, the psalmist prays that God would, “teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.”

The prayer of humility and faithfulness continues:

Satisfy us by your loving-kindness in the morning;
so shall we rejoice and be glad all the days of our life.

The psalm concludes:

May the graciousness of the Lord our God be upon us;
prosper the work of our hands;
prosper our handiwork.

It is simple, and yet not so simple, to pray these words honestly in our hearts. It is even more to embody these words. Be attentive today to the work your hands do. Be mindful of the ways God’s joy emanates from you. Feel how God satisfies you with enough as you witness the loving-kindness of our Lord.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What is satisfying to you? Where do you see the work of your hands showing up around you? Who influenced the work you do today and how you feel a sense of satisfaction in life?

Daily Challenge

Sit and reflect on this question: do you ever feel unsatisfied? Take a few minutes to journal about sources of dissatisfaction. Consider the roots of this feeling Then, write down three action words in response to your reflection. Pray for the Holy Spirit to fill and embolden you to live into actions that will yield satisfaction of your whole self – body, mind, and spirit.

November 12 - Nourishing and Strengthening All Christ’s People

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; 1 Macc. 1:41-63; Rev. 19:11-16; Matt. 16:13-20

Today’s Reflection

In today’s Gospel, we hear two important things unfold. First, we hear Jesus checking his disciples’ understanding of who people say he is versus who they know him to be. When Simon gets it right with his response, “You are the Messiah,” Jesus changes his name to Peter, which means rock, and says that “on this rock I will build my church.” Some take that to mean that Jesus intended to build his church on the rock (petra) of Peter, who went on to become (in the eyes of some) the first bishop or pope of the Church. I would argue that, in fact, “the rock” on which the church is built, and against which the gates of Hades (hell) will not prevail, is the knowledge that Jesus is the Messiah, the Savior of the world.

Peter’s correct answer led to him being given responsibility to safeguard and guide the emerging church. On behalf of the newly birthed church, Peter is then given “the keys of heaven.” To hold the keys of heaven is symbolic of holding authority and responsibility in the church. At Saint Stephen’s, being a keyholder means than one has been entrusted with authority and with it many responsibilities to care for the needs of the church campus and, more importantly, the people (who are the church). Keyholders are not the only ones who have authority and responsibility in our church, of course, but these people (clergy, staff, and vestry wardens) are given a degree of trust that we must use wisely as we aim to be the shepherds of God’s people gathered as the flock of Saint Stephen’s.

Today’s Matthew passage, along with one of the Psalms appointed for today, Psalm 91, put me in mind to look back at the service for the Ordination of a Priest in the Book of Common Prayer. From time to time, over these first few years since my ordination as deacon and priest, I like to look back over the words of the ordination liturgy to remind myself of what I am called to as a priest in God’s one, holy, and apostolic church.

One of the first things that happens in the service is that bishop asks the ordinand to affirm that she or he will be “loyal to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of Christ as this Church,” the Episcopal Church. The ordinand must affirm “the Old and New Testaments to be the Word of God” and “solemnly engage to conform to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of The Episcopal Church.” We are to uphold the authority of the Holy Scriptures as revealing to us “all things necessary to salvation” as well as abide by the ways of worship contained within our Book of Common Prayer. We are also affirming that we will abide by the Constitution and Canons of the Episcopal Church, which are very comprehensive, detailed documents that govern everything from church governance (Diocesan and General Conventions, elections of bishops) to who owns church properties to very specific rules for proper ways of relating to the people entrusted to our care as pastors.

We are to conduct our lives as individuals and our roles as priests with utmost integrity so that we may protect the sheep of our fold, all who come within the circle of our care, those within the church as well as in our own families and in the wider community. Later, during a part of the ordination service known as the Examination, the bishop addresses the ordinand and gives this charge: “As a priest, it will be our task to proclaim by word and deed the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and to fashion your life in accordance with its precepts. You are to love and serve the people among whom you work, caring alike for young and old, strong and weak, rich and poor.”

After listing specific responsibilities entrusted to the priest—preaching, declaring absolution (forgiveness) for sins, blessing, baptizing, and celebrating the Eucharist—the bishop concludes with this, my favorite line of the ordination service. I see this line as encapsulating my main purpose as a priest, and I like to re-read it and reflect on it as a way of keeping this aim as the foundation of all I do in my ministry as a priest and in my life overall: “In all that you do, you are to nourish Christ’s people from the riches of his grace, and to strengthen them to glorify God in this life and in the life to come” (BCP 531).

The Church must be built on the rock of Holy Scriptures, on an abiding belief that we are saved by Christ (not by ourselves or anything we do), and on a commitment to “nourishing” and “strengthening” one another. As we read in Psalm 91 today, “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High, abides under the shadow of the Almighty. He shall say to the Lord, ‘You are my refuge and my stronghold, my God in whom I put my trust.’” The church should be, as we pray in our Celtic service liturgy, “a shelter-house” from the harsh conditions of this world. I know Saint Stephen’s, in particular, to be a place where we can “find refuge under God’s wings.”

All of us—bishops, priests, and deacons, staff, vestry members, and parishioners—are entrusted with the care of one another. We work together to assure that Saint Stephen’s (and the Episcopal Church overall) remain a place of shelter and refuge where God’s dearly loved people will always be nourished and strengthened. I am grateful for your partnership in this sacred trust.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When have you felt nourished or strengthened by being a part of a church community? What experiences in a church community have most strengthened and nourished your faith?

What can be done to offer hope to and promote healing in those who have had damaging experiences with the church or individual Christians?

Daily Challenge

You can find the full text of the Service for the Ordination of a Priest in the Book of Common Prayer here. And if you’re curious about the Constitution and Canons of the Episcopal Church, you can read them in all their glorious detail here.

Feast of Booths - November 10

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Neh. 7:73b-8:3,5-18 Rev. 18:21-24; Matt. 15:29-39

Yesterday, there was a funeral at Saint Stephen’s for longtime member Gary Bonds, a friend to so many across our Birmingham community. Hundreds of people gathered. The nave overflowed. More and more copies of bulletins were printed and carried up the stairs. Extra chairs were set up in the narthex and hallway. There was standing room only. People who had long history together gathered. They wept, they heard comforting music played on violin and piano, they prayed. Words from a lifelong friend and a brave, honest, loving son were offered. The Good News was proclaimed and preached. And we processed to the Parish Hall for a reception, singing “When the Saints Go Marching In”, met with the aroma of fresh flowers and tempting treats. It felt like an odd sort of homecoming following a long time of exile, finally gathering for a long-awaited reunion.

As I read Nehemiah this morning, I heard another people’s story of long-awaited reunion, after a long time of exile. They shared mutual loss, clinging to good memories of the time before, and looking for the comfort and promise of today and the days to come.

In Nehemiah, what is described is the Feast of Booths or the Feast of Tabernacles. In Hebrew it is referred to as Sukkot, a sort of New Year’s festival, based upon the new moon sighted in Israel indicating the seventh month. This weeklong celebration is referenced at various points in Holy Scripture: Exodus, Leviticus, Zechariah, Nehemiah, and even in the Gospel according to John. The version we read today is from Nehemiah-Ezra. Ezra the priest came forward and opened the book of the law in front of all the people. The people – who had returned home from exile in Babylon – stood up. Ezra blessed God, calling the Creator good. All the people responded, “Amen, Amen!” He read from the book, from the law of God. Others read it, too. They offered interpretation. They studied the law so that the people understood.

This was no average group Bible study! This was a really emotional homecoming – a return to hearing the word of God, after such a long time being away. There was weeping with joy and mourning all that was lost. Nehemiah the governor and Ezra the priest and the Levites who taught the people said, “This day is holy to the LORD your God; do not mourn or weep.” They were told to go celebrate on this holy day, enjoying good food and sharing it with others who had less – and were reminded to hold fast to the strength and joy given by God.

The words in Nehemiah 8:10 hang with me: do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength. While we may hurt and feel anguish or self-doubt, what keeps us grounded in safety is the joy and gladness of God, who is our refuge in times of trouble.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Ezra and Nehemiah remind the people to celebrate and then share the bounty with those who are not prepared. When have you not felt prepared? What comes to mind when you remember those times? Who around you is needing to enjoy some of the bounty on your table or in your heart?

Daily Challenge

Spend some time reading about the Festival of Booths in the Bible. Where do you find similarities among the stories? What is different? What are the ways Jews today remember Sukkot?

God Connects the Dots - November 9

They forgot what he had done,
and the wonders he had shown them.
He worked marvels in the sight of their forefathers,
in the land of Egypt, in the field of Zoan.
He split open the sea and let them pass through;
he made the waters stand up like walls.
He led them with a cloud by day,
and all the night through with a glow of fire.
He split the hard rocks in the wilderness
and gave them drink as from the great deep.
He brought streams out of the cliff,
and the waters gushed out like rivers.  –Psalm 78: 11-16

I was reminiscing with a friend yesterday about many of the different places where we had lived over the years, stops along the way where God had called each of us to be for a time and how God had provided for us in those places. We noticed how we had been, as it turns out, at some of the same places along the way, but at different points in time, and how we have known some of the same people along the way, though many years (and even decades) apart. When we remember to look back at our lives (so far) from the vantage point of time and the perspective of people who believe in God’s shepherding, guiding presence in our lives, it can be easier to see how God has worked (as is working) in us and through us—if only we are willing to keep walking, tentative step by tentative step, down the path God has appointed for us. We may not know where God is leading us at that time, but we can always find assurance that God is right there with us at every step along the way.

But as we hear the psalmist writing in Psalm 78 today, through the generations God’s faithful people often have lost sight of how God has faithfully led them, provided for them, and protected them over the years: “They did not keep the covenant of God, and refused to walk in his law; They forgot what he had done, and the wonders he had shown them” (v. 10-11). It’s a familiar pattern: we stray off course or encounter unexpected obstacles, we forget how God has guided and provided for us, and then we grow anxious and think we have to hustle and scheme and make everything happen for ourselves.

God, as our loving heavenly Father, knows how we humans work, though. And so, again and again, he gently calls out to us and reminds us that he is there—and has been there at every stop along the way. Sometimes God gives us little nudges and stirrings of the Spirit, be they signs of his beauty and faithfulness in nature (like seeing a rainbow or bird flying overhead at just the right time) or those God-incidences in which it seems like only God could scatter and then connect those dots in just the right way at just the right time.

Even though we are flawed and human, God keeps calling us to return—as we pray in Eucharistic Prayer C, “again and again, you called us to return.” As we hear the psalmist reflect, though we keep straying and keep forgetting that God is God and we are not, God remains ever-loving and ever-kind. He knows that we are ever in need of his tenderness and mercy, and he will provide all that we need, beyond what we in our human finitude can even ask or imagine.

For they had no faith in God,
nor did they put their trust in his saving power.
So he commanded the clouds above
and opened the doors of heaven.
He rained down manna upon them to eat
and gave them grain from heaven.
So mortals ate the bread of angels;
he provided for them food enough.  (Psalm 78: 22-25)

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

“When I pray, coincidences happen.

When I don't, they don't.”

—Archbishop William Temple

Ponder these words in light of today's Psalm and reflection. How does being connected through God in prayer allow us to be attuned to the ways God is guiding us and providing for us, and to those moments that seem like God-made coincidences.

Daily Challenge

Make a timeline or journal about the long and winding road of your life so far. At what points along the way, looking back now, do you see God's guiding hand and provision more clearly now?

The Ineffable God - November 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Neh. 9:1-15(16-25); Rev. 18:1-8; Matt. 15:1-20

Yesterday was the conclusion of our Inquirer’s Class at Saint Stephen’s, six weeks of Episcopal theology, and a class that is often a tool for preparation for Confirmation or when people make a mature affirmation of faith. In this case, preparation for the Confirmation process led four people (two teenagers and two adults) to be Baptized yesterday as a requirement for Confirmation.  Yesterday, we witnessed four people choosing the way of love that we have come to know through Christ and it was especially moving for me. 

One of the ways I like to teach the class is to present paradoxes that are unresolvable as ways of understanding our tradition.  For example:  Is God timeless, simple, unchangeable (the classical understanding of God) or can God change as evidenced by suffering on the cross?  While this might not seem like a big deal, this is the kind of dilemma that leads to wars and churches fracturing.  These are contradictory understandings of God and only one could be true. And yet, when this question was posed in a room of ten people, there were at least eleven opinions!  And this is where I get excited, usually jumping up and down, to point out the nature of the Episcopal Church isn’t resolving these challenging questions but being bound together by common prayer. 

Robin Williams famously said in his top ten list about the Episcopal Church that” no matter what you believe, there is bound to be at least one Episcopalian who agrees with you.”  People seem drawn to a tradition that can be intellectually honest. 

Yesterday we concluded our class, where I answer questions and tell jokes (about the Church to prompt more questions).  After some challenging questions on the nature of evil, we concluded with a simple statement that would be problematic in most traditions.  I told the group that at the end of the day, I’m not concerned in the least with what they believe as long as their faith leads them to love God and their neighbor more deeply.  I believe that is all that really matters. 

Jesus is being questioned by the Pharisees and scribes, people who are pretty good at making theological arguments.  They know the commandments and the laws, and they are good at reminding people when they miss the mark and so they lure Jesus into a conversation about the teachings, noticing that Jesus has not been following the handwashing tradition (he obviously hasn’t lived through a global pandemic). 

Jesus’s response is essentially that it doesn’t matter what you do if your heart isn’t changed. Your heart is what really matters.  The Pharisees had all of the right theological answers, but they didn’t actually care about people in the way that Jesus called us to love.  

We heard a word in the All Saint’s collect that I only hear on that day but probably should use more often – ineffable.   It means “too great or extreme to be expressed in words.”  While the collect referred to the ‘ineffable joys’ I wonder if that might be a better description of God’s own self.  God is too great to simply be described by words!    

The Good News is that it doesn’t matter.  We are not required to give an account of our understanding, to get it right as so many people are worried about.  All we have to do is love.   And we learn about that love from each other, and then we all get it chance to practice it.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What theological questions do you have?  Are there certain things that you believe must be true?  Why are these important to you?  Have you changed your opinions over time?

Daily Challenge:  Here are the Contemporary Collects for the Church Year.  See if you can find All Saints.   

God Gives Us What We Need - November 5

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Ezra 7:27-28, 8:21-36; Rev. 15:1-8; Matt. 14:13-21

Today’s Reflection

Back at the end of July, we had planned another of our summer Wednesday nights of food truck, live music, and Vacation Bible School. When I arrived at the church to help get things ready and be there to greet people as they arrived, immediately I noticed something very important was missing. No food truck was in sight. I started asking others on staff what was going on, and began hearing the updates on the mystery of the missing food truck. Minutes continued to pass, and more and more people were beginning to arrive, expecting to quickly grab their dinner and sit down to enjoy some music and conversation out with us in the parking lot. It was hot outside, and after all the heavy rain earlier that afternoon, it was very, very humid.

As more and more people began to arrive and were milling around that humid late afternoon, waiting for the food truck to finally arrive, it felt kind of like the story we hear today in Matthew 14: “When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, ‘This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.’ Jesus said to them, ‘They need not go away; you give them something to eat.’” On Wednesday night, we had no backup food prepared, we had no chilled bottles of water waiting in the wings for such a time as this. What could we do to offer hospitality to this very patient, yet still hot and hungry crowd? —including lots of little ones who needed to fill their tummies so they could have a good time at VBS.

Let’s look again at today’s Gospel account and how this exchange continued to unfold between Jesus and his doubting disciples: “They replied, ‘We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.’ And he said, ‘Bring them here to me.’ Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.”

What did we have easy access to here at Saint Stephen’s on that Wednesday night? Well, we had a secret stash of popsicles and ice cream bars left over from an earlier event. And we could get some ice and water and we could bring out some cups. And maybe most importantly, we had the number to the closest Domino’s Pizza. And so, while there were some moments of wondering, “How are we going to provide dinner to this crowd?” so that they would stick around for music and VBS with us, in the end, God gave us just what we needed: which, in this case, was a basket full of popsicles and Anne arriving with her Honda full of pizza boxes. God gave us what we needed—and then some. Just as in the Gospel, we didn’t run out of popsicles or pizzas—and at the end of the night, we still had at least 12 extra pizzas that we were giving away to anyone who would take one home.

God gives us what we need. God knows exactly what we need in the now, to keep us going from day to day, and from week to week. We need food and drink and shelter. We need work to occupy our hands and engage our minds. We need friends and family to stick by us and encourage us. We need all of these to “pass through things temporal” —the circumstances of this world that are passing away, the things that won’t last—in order that we may lay claim to the eternal: God’s love and peace that are from everlasting to everlasting, those things that will last.

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall some moments in life, whether recently or in the distant past, when you feared you would not have enough—whether money, or time, or the strength needed to get through a challenging time. Looking back on it now, how were your needs provided for? In what ways do you see now how God made something out of nothing, or made a way out of no way?

Daily Challenge

Today’s reflection is drawn from my sermon given on July 25, 2021. You can listen to the full sermon here on our Saint Stephen’s YouTube channel.

Take us, Renew us, Remake us - November 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [70], 71; PM Psalm 74; Ezra 7:(1-10)11-26; Rev. 14:1-13; Matt. 14:1-12

Since a few of my last reflections have taken you back thirty years or so, I thought I would keep up the trend!  Thirty years ago, or so, I was in 4th grade, Mrs. Gray’s class to be specific.  One of my classmates showed up to school with the latest and greatest hairstyle, a giant perm.  Our class wasn’t too kind.  I don’t remember laughing, and I don’t remember saying anything specifically, but I do remember the principal sitting with our class and talking about how upset he was that we had allowed each other to say mean things.  I do remember some students being upset because they felt, it was really only the actions of a few, and everyone was being blamed.  

In our Celtic service of Holy Eucharist, the confession that we have been saying lately comes from one of the Episcopal supplemental resources.  The words we say together are:

God of all mercy, we confess that we have sinned against you, opposing your will in our lives. We have denied your goodness in each other, in ourselves, and in the world you have created. We repent of the evil that enslaves us, the evil we have done, and the evil done on our behalf. Forgive, restore, and strengthen us through our Savior Jesus Christ, that we may abide in your love and serve only your will. Amen.

When I first read this prayer, I struggled some with saying such a strong word as evil and the connection to our own lives.  But as I have continued to offer that prayer, it has been helpful for me to acknowledge “evil done on our behalf.”  By being human we are a part of broken systems, in need of God’s redemption.  I tend to believe that the vast majority of people have really good intentions almost all of the time, and yet that doesn’t mean that we aren’t entangled in something in need of God’s redemption and grace. 

Today’s Gospel reading from Matthew recalls Herod’s action of the beheading of John the Baptist. Herod makes a promise to his niece, the daughter of Herodias and Philip.  In other Scriptures, it is evident that Herod is trying to claim that he has no choice, but has to keep his promise.  When I read the story, it seems to me that the whole family is caught up in something pretty nefarious.  It makes me wonder sometimes how hard it is to distance ourselves from the actions of others, even when we don’t think we have done something wrong.

I’ve also been drawn lately to the post-communion prayer of the Celtic service.  One of the primary reasons for us gathering on Sundays is to be reminded that God is renewing our lives, and even taking the things we have done and left undone, and still sending us forward renewed and restored.  It never ends with our part in the story, but with where God is leading us into. No matter what, we entrust our lives to God and the actions of the past do not get to be our defining moments.  At the conclusion of the Celtic Service, we offer this post-communion prayer.  And it’s my prayer for all of us today.

Lord Jesus Christ,
you have put your life into our hands;
now we put our lives into yours.
Take us, renew us and remake us.
What we have been is past;
what we shall be, through you, still awaits us. Lead us on. Take us with you. Amen.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What are your thoughts about participating in evil?  What are some examples? When you offer the confession at church do you mostly focus on your own actions or the actions of others?  How can a broader view be helpful to you?

Daily Challenge:  Write down the post-communion prayer written above.  Try offering this prayer throughout the day as a reminder of God’s work in our lives.

Birth pangs and chaos monsters - November 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Neh. 13:4-22; Rev. 12:1-12; Matt. 13:53-58

This morning, the reading from the Revelation to John is one that sends my imagination into overload. Visual images of a vivid drama jump off of the page. A sign appears in the sky: a woman clothed with the sun and the moon at her feet, adorned with a crown of twelve stars, pregnant and crying out in labor pains. Another sign appears in the sky: a huge red dragon with seven crowned heads and ten horns. Its tail swipes at the stars and takes down four of them. The chaos monster postures in front of the pregnant woman, as if to devour her child upon its birth. The boy-child is born, whisked away to God, and the woman is left to flee to a safe place hidden in the protection of the wilderness for 42 months…nearly 3 1/2 years. These are not verses we read aloud in Sunday services.

The motif of the pregnant woman being pursued by a dragon was akin to the Greek myth of Python the terrible monster hunting the Titan Leto while she was pregnant with Apollo (and Artemis). This oracle – this prophetic vision – in John’s revelation is grounded in a story familiar to people of the region. It means that this story resonated with the audience, triggering understanding and appealing to their senses on various levels.

While I studied mythology in middle school, this story had faded from my recollection – so what comes up for me when I read this scripture is memory of bearing my own two children. Labor and pain and upheaval. Those big breaths of release between contractions. The relief when all had subsided, and the gift of a tiny new person was laid upon my chest. Truth be told, there was no way I was fit to be fleeing from a dragon after those bundles of joy arrived. No way, no how.

The tale of the cosmic goddess and the Devil-dragon is a stirring one to wake us up on this Wednesday morning. The oracle serves in history and in today as a reminder of the battle we feel when the goodness of God feels threatened by the powers of evil around us. In talking with someone recently, they intimated something to this effect: Just when things start falling into place, something comes along and upsets the apple cart of healthy, joyful rhythms. That happens sometimes, doesn’t it? We work and pray for stillness and beauty in the garden, and storms come through littering the lawn with leaves and limbs. In the end of this piece of the oracle in Revelation, let us remember that the woman clothed in the sun was protected in the wilderness, for she found the place prepared for her by God – and in that space she was nourished.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Who is someone who has nurtured and nourished you, following a traumatic time? What did that look like and feel like? Who around you needs nourishing today?

Daily Challenge

Richard Hooker, famed Anglican theologian, is remembered this day. He was instrumental in the birthing of the Episcopal Church, as it is today. Spend a little time reading about Hooker, to appreciate his influence in our Anglican practices.

http://satucket.com/lectionary/RHooker.htm

https://www.britannica.com/biography/Richard-Hooker

Knowing Your Roots - November 2

Today’s Readings: Psalm 130; Wisdom 3:1-9; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; John 5:24-27 

Today’s Reflection

Today is All Souls’ Day, known in Mexican and Mexican-American culture as la Día de los Muertos. For those who celebrate this day, a pilgrimage to the cemetery where family members are buried is one part of the celebrations. It is a day to celebrate the memories of those who have been a part of our lives as well as our family’s history through the generations—a day to give thanks for knowing who we are and where we come from.

Since moving to Alabama, my daughters and I have twice driven the 10+ hour drive to visit my parents in Florida. In March, on our way back to Birmingham, the route I chose took us on small Georgia state roads, one of which went right through the town where my dad grew up, Cuthbert, a very small town in rural, southwest Georgia. I wanted my daughters to see where Poppy grew up, and where I used to go a few times a year to visit my Granny and Granddaddy Bridges. As it turned out, the Georgia highway we were following went right by the cemetery where they are buried. Since there was still some time before sunset, we decided to get out of the car and walk through the cemetery to find their gravesite. We ended up walking all around it for about half an hour and never could find their marker, but it felt important to make the effort.

Once we gave up searching for their grave, we took a little detour to drive through the town square and then over to Highland Avenue, where they lived. As we kept driving toward Birmingham, the road also took us through Eufaula, where my grandparents met and married back in the 1940s, just before Granddaddy enlisted in the Army in World War II. On another trip to Florida this fall, my daughter and I drove home through Richland, the even tinier town where Granddaddy grew up, also in southwest Georgia. I pointed out buildings, including the small downtown, that had stood when he grew up there, and tried to picture what it had been like for him there in the 1920s and 1930s. It’s very important, as I told my daughters that day, to know where they come from, and to be able to imagine where their grandfather grew up and where their great-grandparents used to live.

That little cemetery detour reminded me of the times my dad would take us on detours into cemeteries when my dad went through a long genealogy phase for several years during my growing up. We went to the cemetery in Richland, Georgia, where several generations of the Bridges side lived in the 1800s and 1900s, and we went to some cemeteries in northern Louisiana, where some Bridges relations moved after getting a land grant after the Civil War, and to graveyards in Kentucky where my mother’s family has lived for many generations.

The result of all this genealogical detective work is that my dad made these two thick books, one for me and one for my brother, that gives us many specific details of who our people were in generations past. I know that relatives on my Granny Bridges’ side (the Pugh side) ended up in south Alabama, but they came there from South Carolina and before that Virginia and Wales. I know that another ancestor was a spy in the Revolutionary War, and that I had ancestors who served on both sides in the Civil War And I know that relatives on Grandpa Barrick’s side (my mom’s dad’s family) came to Virginia from England in the 1620s, and that one of them may have been a captain on one of the boats that brought people there.

One fact that was especially fascinating for me to learn, as I re-read my family tree book several years ago right before I left for seminary, is that it turns out that I am not the first Anglican person in our family of Methodists and Baptists. Thanks to all the genealogical work of my mom’s uncle, we know of Barrick relatives who were baptized in Christ Church Middlesex, a Church of England congregation in the Virginia Tidewater so long ago that the Episcopal church didn’t yet exist. Today that church is part of the Episcopal Church. Presiding Bishop Michael Curry made a visit there to help them celebrate their 350th anniversary back in 2016. I would love to visit that church next time I am in Virginia, to give thanks for those long-ago relatives who shared the same faith that I have today.

Today I give thanks for the souls of all those who have gone for us, and especially those who have laid the groundwork for the faith we now share.

—Becky+

Collect for All Souls’ Day

O God, the Maker and Redeemer of all believers: Grant to the faithful departed the unsearchable benefits of the passion of your Son; that on the day of his appearing they may be manifested as your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and ever. Amen.

Questions for Self-Reflection

Who comes to mind for you when you think of remembering people from generations past? What aspects of their lives do you see living on in you and later generations? What aspects of your life do you hope that people will remember about you and live on in the memories and lives of those who follow?

Daily Challenge

As we reflect on the scriptures appointed for All Souls’ Day, take some time today to look back at family photos and maybe even your own family tree. Reflect on the faces you see, the names and dates, the births and baptisms, and all the other details that led to you to being who you are and where you are today.

Proving a Point - November 1

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Neh. 6:1-19; Rev. 10:1-11; Matt. 13:36-43

I can’t believe I am going to admit this story, but it’s the story that came flooding back when reading today’s Gospel.  When I was in fifth grade, I had a mechanical pencil, one of those black Bic pens, with the colored pocket clip and white eraser.  Someone in my class said something about pencil lead causing lead poisoning. Adamant that this was ridiculous, I clicked the pencil several times and took a big bite of the long tube of mechanical pencil offering.  I couldn’t stomach other people being so wrong, and I was so sure that this was just a little graphite used to record mathematical equations and diagram sentences.  And someone had to set these uninformed fifth-graders straight.  Yes, I was probably more than a little annoying and this likely explains much more about me than the aptitude of my classroom.

I was rightly ridiculed for some time for just how far I would push limits and the need to be right, something that I have been working on for my whole life. Maybe this is why my ears perk up when I read the disciples asking Jesus to teach them the meaning of a parable. In this small request, there is an implication that they have already heard the parable, they do not understand it, and this is after intimately traveling with Jesus. I’m pretty sure that this isn’t one of my favorite parables that we hear this morning (you will hear much more comforting Scripture tonight at the Feast of All Saints), but it is a reminder that I have much more to learn.

When I think over the past 19 months, of all that I have learned (spanning from Public Health metrics to Livestreaming technology capabilities), what is really apparent is how much I don’t know.  Maybe the gift of the disciples’ questions, is the reminder we get to question too.

Today’s parable stands in stark contrast to the vision of the Company of Heaven that have gone before us, that we draw upon in the Eucharistic vision as gathered at the feast.  But when you read the two together, it leaves a lot of room for uncertainty.  I have to think that’s a good thing.

 Not all of our questions can be resolved with an easy answer.  I’ll try to remember that.  And don’t worry, I’ve given up pencil lead for more than just Lent.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What is the farthest you have gone to prove a point?  How would you handle that same challenge today? 

Daily Challenge: Read this fun article about opinions that our staff read last week.

Real and honest prayer - October 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23)
Neh. 4:1-23; Rev. 7:(4-8)9-17; Matt. 13:31-35

Each year, the diocese plans a time at Camp McDowell called the Clergy and Spouse retreat. It is during the week, since clergy usually have weekend responsibilities; clergy spouses who have flexibility in their schedules sometimes come along. Meant as a time of respite and reconnection, the gathering builds community among the clergy and families across the diocese. I arrived at Camp McDowell near the end of dinner Thursday, as there were work things to tie up, family time and hugs, and then the drive on wet roads through rural counties to Nauvoo, Alabama. Gatherings of clergy families often feel a bit like “old home week” for me, having grown up in the Episcopal Church in Alabama. Even so, there were moments yesterday that I looked around and felt out of my comfort zone. For those who come from other dioceses to serve parishes in Alabama, it may feel exclusive or awkward at times – like a new kid in the noisy lunchroom, only seeing unfamiliar faces.

As I read Psalm 55 this morning and ponder the scriptures, I wonder about the prayers sprinting through the minds of those who find themselves in uncomfortable spaces. When in a circumstance that is stretching me, it is not parables and pondering that keep me rooted. It is prayer to God, asking again and again for divine companionship and solace, though the holy comfort can feel as though it slips through my fumbling fingers.

Take a few moments and wander through a portion of Psalm 55 with me:

The psalmist prays, “Hear my prayer, O God; do not hide yourself from my petition.” Clear, real, and concise.

Next is the honest appeal: “Listen to me and answer me; I have no peace because of my cares.” There is a purity and simplicity to this call for God’s help.

What follows are several ways that those cares and concerns are manifesting themselves in the person’s life as they turn to God for support: “I am shaken by the noise of the enemy and by the pressure of the wicked; for they have cast an evil spell upon me…my heart quakes within me…fear and trembling have come over me, and horror overwhelms me.” What a low and terrifying space.

The next three verses show a glimpse of the psalmist’s stress response: “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest. I would flee to a far-off place and make my lodging in the wilderness.” Each who has prayed these verses can surely understand the wish to sprout wings and escape to a quiet, distant place.

From there, the psalm goes darker. If verses 7 through 9 highlight the “flight” response, then verses 10 and beyond contain “fight” responses: “Swallow them up, O Lord…let death come upon them suddenly; let them go down alive into the grave.”

Psalms hold this gift of encapsulating the myriad of fleeting thoughts and feelings that well up inside of us. Psalm 55 is proof that all that heaviness truly can be dumped upon God…the disappointment of being betrayed, the sinfulness we feel in ourselves and see in others. All of it. These ancient words of prayer remind us to cast our burdens upon the Lord, for God will sustain us (v. 24), even in really hard times.

Until the day that we mutate beautifully with wings that can carry us away from dangers with our feathered friends, join me in praying honestly and faithfully to God, who is strong enough to bear all of our concerns and generous enough to extend boundless grace to cushion us when we fall.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you taken time to rest and play this week?

What has been the content of your prayers this week?

Daily Challenge

Write down three words to describe your prayer time. In the week ahead, make notes of the trends of your prayers. When do you pray during the day? Do you pray for yourself? Others? What are you saying to God? What are you asking of God? When in your days are you feeling connected to God?

Pausing to Pray - October 29

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Neh. 2:1-20; Rev. 6:12-7:4; Matt. 13:24-30

Today’s Reflection

“Then the king said to me, ‘What do you request?’ So I prayed to the God of heaven. Then I said to the king, ‘If it pleases the king, and if your servant has found favor with you, I ask that you send me to Judah, to the city of my ancestors’ graves, so that I may rebuild it.’ The king said to me (the queen also was sitting beside him), ‘How long will you be gone, and when will you return?’ So it pleased the king to send me, and I set him a date.” Nehemiah 2: 4-6 

I’ll be honest—before yesterday in Morning Prayer, I don’t think I had ever read anything from the Book of Nehemiah. Maybe I have at some point, but if I have, I don’t remember it! All I knew about it before that it is an Old Testament book that comes after Ezra and before Esther.

But as I’ve read the first couple chapters this week, I’m discovering that Nehemiah is more interesting than I would ever have guessed. Nehemiah is a book about a hero and his quest to find the resources and the companions needed to fulfill a very important mission: to rebuild the walls of his hometown, Jerusalem.

When we first find Nehemiah is yesterday’s reading, chapter 1, Nehemiah has learned from his brothers, who are returning from their travels, about what has happened to the Jews who were living in exile and what had unfolded in their beloved Jerusalem. When Nehemiah heard the news that “The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates are destroyed by fire,” his response was deep and from the heart: “I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying before the God of heaven.” Nehemiah is pouring out his heart to God, acknowledging his shortcomings and those of his people, and asking for God’s love to continue to be extended to them anyway. He is confessing and seeking forgiveness. And he is also praying that God, in his great mercy, will somehow make a way for his people to be gathered again to the place that he has chosen and allow God’s name to dwell there. Nehemiah is praying for God’s help: “O Lord, let your ear be attentive to your servant today, and grant him mercy in the sight of this man.”

“This man” is King Artaxerxes of Persia. At the very end of chapter 1, after Nehemiah’s long prayer, we learn this: Nehemiah is serving as the cupbearer to the king. He is the one who bringing the king and queen their wine, so one can imagine that he has very personal access to the leader on a daily basis. And as a result, the king has gotten to know Nehemiah well enough to notice when something is wrong—and to care about how things are going for Nehemiah: “And the king said to me, ‘Why is your face sad, seeing you are not sick? This is nothing but sadness of the heart.” Nehemiah felt afraid—someone in his position was supposed to keep up appearance, to be a pleasant person with a smile on his face when he brought the king his cup.

But in that moment, Nehemiah decided to be honest, and shared the bad news he had learned about Jerusalem. The king’s response was not the one Nehemiah had been fearing, but instead was a supportive response: “What are you requesting?” This threw Nehemiah for a second—he didn’t know quite what to say! In that moment, Nehemiah quickly realized that the king could provide help to Nehemiah that would allow him to help attempt something huge: to rebuild the walls! But instead of just blurting out an excited response, we learn that Nehemiah took a moment to ask for God’s help, too: “So I prayed to the God of heaven.” And after that pause to take a deep breath and ask for God’s wisdom, Nehemiah began to speak—and when he did, Nehemiah spoke boldly, and he asked for exactly what he needed: to be sent to Judah, to be given letters to allow him to pass through the lands between Persia and Judah, and to be given all the timber needed to rebuild the walls. Nehemiah stepped out in faith and made the big ask—and in response, “the king granted me what I asked, for the good hand of God was upon me.”

As Nehemiah unfolds over the next several days in our lectionary readings, we’ll continue to follow the adventures of this hero as he arrives in Jerusalem, overcomes opposition, works on behalf of the poor, and responds to conspiracies. Nehemiah’s story is most heroic not because of what he builds for God and his people (though that, too, is important), but because of the way he goes about it: by devoting himself to God, and always seeking God’s wisdom and purpose through prayer.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When has someone noticed your feelings, despite your hope to hide them? How did it change things to know that someone else noticed and cared enough to ask how you are doing? How do you respond when someone unexpectedly offers you help?

Daily Challenge

Read more about why Jerusalem held such spiritual importance for people like Ezra and Nehemiah.

Community: The Good Soil - October 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 103; Neh. 1-1:11; Rev. 5:11-6:11; Matt. 13:18-23

At the conclusion of last night’s Trunk or Treat event, I was walking through the building with a parishioner, reflecting on both the beauty and joy of the evening and the challenges of earlier in the day, and arguably the last eighteen months.  He remarked, “John, I’m guessing you didn’t get the pandemic handbook in seminary.”  It was a warm response and the simple acknowledgment and support set me at ease and reminded me how important the support of each other can truly be. 

There has been a lot of reflection lately about Christian community and the long-term effects of the pandemic.  Being able to stream and worship from home has been an absolutely remarkable gift.  Some are critical that it keeps people from being in community and we still have to live out our faith in community and caution that it can further drive the idea that our faith is something we can consume. I strongly believe that faith is about changed hearts, and changed hearts truly change the world, so a whole lot of good can happen through technology and livestreaming.  But it does beg the question of how do we continue to build community as the Body of Christ if that is such a critical component of our faith?

Today’s Gospel reading is the parable of the sower.  Jesus casts an image of scattering of seed and the seed’s success is dependent upon the ground that it lands.  The parable is set not just about our faith, but how we hear the word of God.  Jesus suggests that even those who hear the word of God and receive it with joy, when they have no root, it is like sowing seed among thorns that choke the word.  The parable is not just about how we hear the word of God, and what we believe, but the soil necessary to receive the word of God.  When we hear the Word of God in good soil, we flourish.

Often when talking about discernment in church, we cast a vision of the role of community.  Understanding God’s call is not something we do on our own, but something that we do together. It’s why the Gospel is often read from the middle of the people on Sunday mornings.  We hear it together.  And then when life challenges us, we face those challenges together through our support, prayer, reflection, and encouragement.  Maybe the good soil is a community of faith that works together for the Glory of God.

No matter where you are reading this, or how your worship is lived out, know that you are a part of the body of Christ.  And we need each other to make sense of the word of God.  I’m grateful that each of you helps me to do that.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How has someone in your faith community supported you lately? How have you supported someone else?  How has this changed over the last eighteen months?

Daily Challenge:  Here is last week’s Prayer list.  Pray for the people on the list today.  If you know someone, reach out and share that you prayed for them, or you can reach out to someone on the birthday list and wish them a happy birthday. 

Communication problems - October 27

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; Ezra 6:1-22; Rev. 5:1-10; Matt. 13:10-17

One of my favorite “Fawlty Towers” episodes was called “Communication Problems”. The BBC sitcom was set in a hotel on the English Riviera. A guest named Mrs. Richards came to stay, and while she had hearing aids to supplement her diminished hearing, she refused to keep them turned on, for fear that she would run the batteries down. This quirk caused great grist for the comedic mill of John Cleese and his hotel staff.

The memory of Mrs. Richards and her refusal to keep her “ears turned on” came up for me this morning as I reflected on the Bible readings for today. We humans continue to have communication problems, interpersonally and in our dealings with God. We long to hear, and yet we do not listen. We long to see, and yet we do not see clearly. We seek to understand, and yet we just cannot get the whole point ingrained within us, or we forget.

The prophets like Isaiah and Jeremiah were sent to relay prophecies to God’s people – sharing illustrative forecasts of what was to come, based on what was happening in the here-and-now. There were times that the people listened. Often, the prophets’ words were ignored. Oracles and prophecies used figurative comparisons, sometimes as clear proverbs, and other times as obscure riddles. Rabbis used these teaching strategies, too, as they told parables – talking about one thing in terms of another. This technique challenges the hearer/reader to pay attention and draw connections, though all in the audience do not reach the same conclusion every time.

In Matthew 13, we find a conversation between Jesus and the disciples. They ask their teacher directly, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” He answers them, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given.” He says that those who flock around him are missing the messages in every way possible. Jesus, paraphrasing from Isaiah 6:9-10, continues:

“With them indeed is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah that says:

“You will indeed listen, but never understand,
   and you will indeed look, but never perceive.
For this people’s heart has grown dull,
   and their ears are hard of hearing,
     and they have shut their eyes;
     so that they might not look with their eyes,
   and listen with their ears,
and understand with their heart and turn—
   and I would heal them.”

The ancient words from Isaiah remind me how our communication problems are endemic; they are generationally perpetuated.

Jesus shares reassurance with his friends about God’s role in their lives, reminding them that their eyes and ears are blessed – and they see and hear. Ironically, the disciples still have communication problems; they cannot fully understand and are quite obtuse in comprehending the messages Jesus imparts as he goes through ministry in Israel.

In spite of their ineptitude, Jesus remained faithful to his disciples. They stayed faithful to him, though they did not understand all that he did and said. The strength of these relationships can be a buoy when we find that we are not good listeners, or that we are not seeing the picture clearly. Remember: we are all afflicted with communication problems.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What is a recent conflict or tension in your life that was caused by a communication problem? What brought greater understanding?

Looking from the outside in, what was a miscommunication you witnessed among others?

Daily Challenge 

Research effective communication skills - both in speaking and in listening. Take a few minutes to remind yourself or learn a new thing or two. Then, revisit the reading from Matthew 13:10-17. Prayerfully consider what Jesus is saying to you.