The Happiness U-Curve - December 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Zech. 7:8-8:8; Rev. 5:6-14; Matt. 25:14-30  

Today’s Reflection

Thus says the Lord: I will return to Zion, and will dwell in the midst of Jerusalem; Jerusalem shall be called the faithful city… Old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each with staff in hand because of their great age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets. … They shall be my people and I will be their God, in faithfulness and in righteousness.  –Zechariah 8: 3-8

This week I read an interview with Jonathan Rauch, author of a book called The Happiness Curve: Why Life Gets Better after 50. Published in Mockingbird (a magazine which counts many Episcopalians among its editors and writers), the interview itself is titled, “Beyond the Midlife Crisis.” As a 40-something who’s gone through several major life changes over the past five years (though I don’t know that I would label these transitions as ‘crises’ in the popular sense of the word), the title piqued my interest. I would argue, though, that is more fruitful to think of crisis in the literary sense of being a turning point. A crisis is an opportunity for the plot of our life to change in a way that opens up new possibilities for how our stories will continue to unfold.

As a 47-year-old who is about to turn 48 at the end of December, I was amused and maybe also encouraged to learn that the “data … suggests that in developed countries age 47 or so is the statistical average bottom.” So, statistically, the low point in the U-curve of our happiness is age 47. My response to this is: Yes! I have made it through the lowlands and, at least according to this one measure, things should be looking up in life from here on out!

Looking at today’s passage from Zechariah 8, we find a picture of Jerusalem in which old men and old women will sit again in the streets—I imagine the scene as perhaps sitting out on front porches—and boys and girls are playing in the streets. In this intergenerational scene, there is a place in the beloved community of God for people of all ages and at all stages of life. Not just the children are happy, but so too are those who have progressed to being of a “great age.” No matter what age we are, no matter what stage in life, we can find peace in knowing this: we will be God’s people and he will be our God, “in faithfulness and righteousness.”

I’m not sure that our happiness trajectory can be charted as simply as a U-curve would indicate. However, the point is that life has its high and lows, and there’s something about being in those early and later stages of life that lends itself to happiness. As the interviewer summarizes, what we learn in the first half of life equips us to live into a renewed sense of our priorities in the second half: “[Rauch’s] writing on the happiness curve is foremost a word of grace. Though midlife can be, for many, very difficult, he assures us that it is also a time of positive change. You begin to value relationships and compassion above status and acclaim; oftentimes, you emerge from the trough with more wisdom and kindness than you entered it.”

No matter what we may be going through in life—even when we are at the bottom of the happiness U-curve that is midlife (at least according to Rauch and the researchers he cites)—we do not walk alone. In Psalm 40, appointed for today, we hear words of thankfulness for God’s faithfulness from someone who, looking back on it all, sees more clearly how God has been there all along and seen them through the times of trial.

I pray these lines from Psalm 40 will be a balm to you on those days when you feel trapped down in the “pits of despair” or the “desolate pit” (which sounds a lot like being at the bottom of the happiness U-curve!). As we end 2021 (and as my own year at age 47 draws to a close), I feel encouraged. God has put a new song in my mouth. With the Psalmist, I feel grateful for all the great things God has done—and hopeful for all the wonders of what will be as we look together toward 2022, with all that it may hold for us. Thanks be to God!

—Becky+

(The version included below is Psalm 40: 1-6 from Psalms for Praying by Nan Merrill.)

I waited patiently for the Beloved, who heard my cry and came to me.

Love raised me from the pits of despair, out of confusion and fear,

and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.

There is a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to the Beloved.

May many see and rejoice, may they put their trust in Love.

Blessed are those who make Love their home,

who do not turn to the proud, to those who follow false idols!

O Beloved, how wondrous are your gifts to us; your thoughts are beyond our imagination.

What joy to live in Oneness with you!

Were we to proclaim and tell of Your beauty and blessed grace, who could measure it?

Questions for Self-Reflection

Thinking back on your years of life so far, which years stand out as low points and which ones as high points. Does the trajectory of your life and your happiness feel like a U-curve? Or would you describe the trajectory of your life and sense of happiness as following some other pattern?

Reflect on the ways in which we can experience life’s highs and lows in ways that may be too complicated to chart. Where do you see God in all of this?

Daily Challenge

You can read the full interview with Jonathan Rauch, “Beyond the Midlife Crisis,” on the Mockingbird Ministries website.

Witnesses to the Joy and Wonder of God - December 16

 Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 33; Zech. 4:1-14; Rev. 4:9-5:5; Matt. 25:1-13

During the first several months of the pandemic, most of my work and my spouses took place in our home.  We would find corners of the house or perch up at the dining room table on a laptop. If calls or zoom meetings were taking place someone would be on the porch and another in the living room.  One of the side effects of this practice was that our pets always had one of us around.  Sugar Magnolia Blossoms Blooming Burruss, aka ‘Shuugs’ the wonder lab would have at least a few sessions of extreme tennis ball retrieval during the day, never bored and always satisfied with her human companions.  Meri, short for Meriwether, which is a pretty formal name for the most mature member of our family (Meri is 15 in human years or 105 in cat years) enjoyed the company too. 

 This has since changed over the last several months, and the animals have found themselves often cooped up alone until after dark.  This means when I return home, and as soon as the car hits the driveway, Sugar is bounding up and down at the door, her head moving from glass pane to pane in anticipatory joy for the soon to be of a tennis ball game that she desires more than anything else.  And the cat is right behind her making sure she is returned the love she has missed for the day. 

All these animals want to do is proclaim love and receive love and the greeting each day is a reminder of how simple life can really be.  It is actually a rather extraordinary outlook to want nothing more than love and be loved and I think there are few things I can learn from the furrier part of the Burruss clan.\

The readings this season continue to be difficult and bizarre, but there is something interesting about John’s vision this morning in Revelation.  He names living creatures “giving glory and honor to the one seated on the throne” as a witness to the revelation of God.  It’s a small passage that would be easy to gloss over, probably as easy as it is sometimes to miss the joy and wonder that is taking place all over the world, bounding in our kitchen or living room or chasing a tennis ball or laser pointer, seeking to share and receive love.

Part of waiting in anticipation, a posture of Advent, should also be to look or watch or be alert.  As we often start Morning Prayer in Advent “Watch, for you know not when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning; lest he come suddenly and find you asleep” (Mark 13:35, 36).  It’s not just about watching for the master, but seeing the others around us who are waiting for the master to return to, point us in the way too.

All around us are witnesses to the joy and wonder of God.  Being alert is letting those witnesses shape our waiting.  And in that maybe we will see or learn something we didn’t expect to see.  God’s return is on the horizon.  Who and what of creation is calling us to pay attention to see what we might not have seen before?

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How do pets shape your life?  What do they teach you and how do they change your perspective?  If you don’t have pets, are there other parts of creation that you notice that are calling out to give glory to God?

Daily Challenge:  If you have a dog, take him or her on an extra-long walk today.  If you don’t, take a walk anyway!

The colors of Revelation - December 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53], Zech. 3:1-10; Rev. 4:1-8; Matt. 24:45-51

I remember sitting in art class in school. It was such a refreshing break from the other learning we did. We got to sit in a different room. The tables were different. The light through the windows was brighter. There were clotheslines strung up around the outside of the room, where clothes pins held up the latest paintings and pieces that needed to dry before being sent home. We studied methods of still life painting. And then, we got to do our own. It was a bowl of fruit. Red apple. Yellow banana. Green pear. And purple grapes. The yellow paint on my brush cast tones of light on the backdrop. Rich brown strokes composed the sturdy table. I remember painting the reds on the apple and trying to accomplish the trick of adding depth to the form through shading. Hope Brannon was my teacher, and she coached me gently as I attempted to paint a shadow beneath the fruits. I thought that the darkness beneath took away from the beauty of the colorful fruits, but I did what she suggested to the best of my fourth-grade ability.

While it was no great work of art, my parents had that still life painting framed. It hung in our kitchen for the remainder of our years in that house. Until 2003. I think about the bold colors of that picture. And the subtle shadow beneath that red apple, which actually enhances the beauty of the fruit and gives it life in a more meaningful way. I can see that now, on many levels in life.

Even now, my eyes are drawn to artwork that has bold, bright hues. While at Anne and John Burruss’ house for a vestry meeting and dinner last night, I was struck by the colorful pieces adorning their walls. This morning, the colors of Revelation 4 speak to me. We move from the third chapter’s call to hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches. Now, our eyes are opened to what the Spirit will show us. In this promise of heaven and what God will reveal, John of Patmos outlines an array of splendor. He sees a throne in heaven, and it is occupied by one who looks like jasper and carnelian – reddish brown tones. There is an emerald green halo (or rainbow) around the throne. There are twenty-four thrones around the primary throne, each filled with elders dressed in white robes, adorned with golden crowns. There are flaming lanterns, flashes of lightning, and a shimmering space in front of the throne that is described as a crystalline sea of glass. What a picture of the gathering of angels and archangels has been painted for us with words. This is the setting for the song proclaimed, “Holy, holy, holy, the Lord God the Almighty, who was and is and is to come.” The language of John’s revelation send majesty and inspiration to color the thoughts of my mind on this December morning.

Let me speak to one more aspect of John’s language choice that adds a subtle shadow and depth to his revelation. Revelation 4:3 reads, “And the one seated there looks like jasper and carnelian, and around the throne is a rainbow that looks like an emerald.” In Greek, John uses the word “litho” in this sentence, which is translated as “stone”. It does not show up in the New Revised Standard English translation. Perhaps it is thought to be redundant to the jasper and carnelian – both semi-precious stones. However, as we are working to grow better-versed in Bible imagery through our immersion in scripture, as we are shown this revelation of the new heaven, who is it that we expect upon the throne? That stone upon the throne could be the building block of what “was, and is, and is to come”. It could be that use of “stone” here is a metaphor for Jesus, the chief cornerstone of our faith.

I pray that as you sit with Holy Scripture this day, you will be drawn into the bold colors and radiance of God’s promise, that was, and is, and is to come, where Jesus is at the center.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What colors catch your attention and are the most beautiful to you? How do you incorporate those colors in your environment?

Daily Challenge

The Revelation to John gets a reputation for being stormy and scary, and some imagery in this biblical book are unsettling. Re-examine Revelation 4 through the eyes of wonder and understanding. Pray that God will send the Holy Spirit upon you, to show you deeper understanding of this scripture, to build up your faith – rather than to deepen your fears.

'Listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches' - December 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 45; PM Psalm 47, 48; Zech. 2:1-13; Rev. 3:14-22; Matt. 24:32-44

Today’s Reflection

I reprove and discipline those whom I love. Be earnest, therefore, and repent. Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me. To the one who conquers I will give a place with me on my throne, just as I myself conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches. –Revelation 3: 19-22

In Christ Chapel at the Seminary of the Southwest, we would cycle through different versions of the liturgy as we shifted through the different liturgical seasons. At some times of year, we would use the Rite I, with its echoes of Elizabethan language, for Morning Prayer, Holy Eucharist, and Evening Prayer. At other times of year, we would use Rite II for these services. Rites I and II are the versions to be found in the Book of Common Prayer, so it just meant turning to a different page of the same book. But at other times, the sacristans (fellow students who helped run our chapel services) would bring out the cart with the EOWs: the Enriching Our Worship booklets.

Enriching Our Worship is an alternative version of the Episcopal liturgies written in more contemporary language, and with more inclusive wording, than the Rite I and Rite II services found in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer. Currently, in this season of Advent, we are using a Eucharistic Prayer (what we pray together as we prepare to share communion) drawn from Enriching Our Worship. It’s a beautiful prayer, and these past few weeks have been my first time to celebrate the Eucharist using this version of the liturgy. I find that when using new words to pray, I am especially attuned to the meaningfulness of the words, as I become acquainted with these new ways of praying these ancient prayers of preparation.

Today’s reading from Revelation 3 ends with a verse that always reminds me of one of the more noticeable differences between Rite II and Enriching Our Worship in the earlier part of the service, the Liturgy of the Word (the part of the service before we share the Peace). When lay lectors (readers) share the appointed passages of Scripture with us in the Rite II service, they close their reading with this: “The Word of the Lord.” And then the congregation responds, “Thanks be to God.” But in Enriching Our Worship, we are given these possibilities to signal the end of the reading:

After the Readings, the Reader may say

Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s people. or

Hear what the Spirit is saying to the Churches.

People Thanks be to God.

When I would first hear these words after the Scripture readings in Christ Chapel, it bothered me. I thought: Why can’t we just say the usual, the Word of the Lord? And I felt similarly about the other differences between the EOW and BCP liturgies. Why not just leave well enough alone and stick with the very lovely liturgies we already have? I have come to have more appreciation for these different versions of the service now, as I can understand how rotating through different versions allows us to really listen to and say and pray these words with a sense of newness, with a heightened sense of the meaningfulness of these words we are hearing and praying. And, as we are reminded by today’s Revelation reading, Enriching Our Worship, as with the Book of Common Prayer, in many instances is drawing the inspiration for its phrasing directly from Holy Scripture:

Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.

Thanks be to God!

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When have you heard other glimpses of Holy Scripture woven into our Sunday morning Holy Eucharist liturgy (beyond the readings themselves)? And in the Daily Offices of Morning Prayer and Compline? In our Rite I and Rite II services, based on the original Book of Common Prayer composed by Thomas Cranmer, we find many phrases taken directly from Paul’s letters, especially from his Letter to the Ephesians (“Walk in love…” and “May God’s peace, which surpasses all understanding” are two).

Daily Challenge

This week, take some time to let the words and phrases of the Enriching Our Worship Eucharistic Prayer wash over you in a new way. Take the bulletin home so that you can linger over or even mark those phrases that seem especially meaningful to you. Maybe weave these words into your own of prayer life between now and Christmas Eve, when we will shift into another Eucharistic Prayer in the season of Christmas.

Apocalyptic Imagery - December 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Zech. 1:7-17; Rev. 3:7-13; Matt. 24:15-31

I’ve been up for a good hour now, trying to will something out of our readings.  I’ve deleted two paragraphs and had a few other ideas swirling in my head, but nothing seems to come to fruition.  To no avail, today’s reflection will be shorter than most.   Sometimes, I just can’t power through it all, which oddly becomes its own inflection point. 

The readings are bizarre, specifically Matthew 24:29-31.  

 ‘Immediately after the suffering of those days
the sun will be darkened,
   and the moon will not give its light;
the stars will fall from heaven,
   and the powers of heaven will be shaken.
Then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see “the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven” with power and great glory. And he will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.

In one of Fleming Rutledge’s reflections on Advent she writes, “one foundational truth that I have learned from apocalyptic theology, it is this: God is the subject of the verb. God doesn’t need us to help him make his “dream” come true; God is on the march far ahead of us, bringing his purposes to pass.”

As I struggle to make words this morning, one of the hopes of this Advent vision is that God is at work and not you and me.  I don’t need to figure out, come up with some shiny new angle, or offer something new to say.  God is already making it happen.  And there is nothing we can do about it.  That’s a good thing that God’s vision isn’t dependent on you and me.

Maybe Thursday will come a little easier, but it makes no difference to God.

John+

Questions for Reflection:  What you have struggled to accomplish lately?  How does this shape your understanding of God?

Daily Challenge:  Read all of the Scriptures today.  That should be a task or challenge that is enough!

Crystal glasses and cherished memories – December 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 30, 32; PM Psalm 42, 43; Haggai 2:1-9; Rev. 3:1-6; Matt. 24:1-14

As Jesus came out of the temple and was going away, his disciples came to point out to him the buildings of the temple. Then he asked them, ‘You see all these, do you not? Truly I tell you, not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.’ (Matthew 24:1-2)

Yesterday morning after the kids went to school, I got a bee in my bonnet: we were missing some ornaments and I was determined to find them. Sam had unpacked most of the Christmas decorations, and still, the white pine in our living room was missing some of the precious pieces that traditionally adorn our tree. I headed to one of our storage spots, the crawl space in the basement. Sam gave me a word of warning, “Don’t look to closely down there!”; evidently the unfinished part of our basement also doubles as a hiding nook for Christmas gifts!

We made it a team effort. While sifting and sorting, Sam came across a wet cardboard box. And another. Our hunt for Christmas ornaments shifted to dealing with some manner of basement water intrusion. Boxes of precious memories were soaked and there was the unmistakable smell of mold as I looked through the contents. Stationery and papers stuck together and disintegrating; photographs ruined; linens stained; crystal wine glasses and goblets – though two were broken. Sam pondered with frustration how the boxes could have gotten so wet, as he had placed them in large plastic yard bags to prevent damage. He turned on faucets, examined pipes, with no signs of leakage. The best we can figure, the flooding from October’s huge storms caused the lowest parts of our crawlspace to have a bit of water – and those two boxes were in just the wrong spot.

Some of the contents of the boxes were salvageable. Linens have been washed with Oxi-Clean. Crystal has been washed, dried, and moved onto a shelf in the kitchen. Most papers were beyond help. Sam and I dumped the remainder into the trash – wedding photos, notes to one another, family documents, etc. It was a sad, disappointing moment.

There are times that I make temples out of the physical fixtures in life…a rug that belonged to my mom, a table from my childhood, a Valentine’s Day card from 2007, a Waterford crystal glass. All of those things will pass away. Only love remains. Jesus was teaching his friends this lesson in Matthew 24. The temple, a highly esteemed gathering place, was not everlasting. Jerusalem, the city of promise, was still filled with unrealized hopes. Because God’s work is beyond the realm of the here and now. The rocks and boxes and goblets we cling to will fall away. Jesus tells his disciples this hard lesson. The goal for their ministry was beyond the temple, and outside the walls of Jerusalem. The ever-moving love of God would take them far and wide.

That love still stirs us. Moves us. Stretches us. So that we let go of the boxes that encumber us. So that we make room for the joy that God promises. So that we cast our eyes up and around us, rather than upon our own fleeting existence.

Advent is an invitation to reflect and simplify. I pray that your reason for cleaning out is less grounded in mold and mess, than it is a desire to remove the distractions that clutter your connection with God.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Where is a space in need of decluttering in your life?

What do you have boxed up, in your attic? In your basement? In your heart?

Daily Challenge

Find a box that needs to be cleaned out. Take the time to appreciate the contents. Re-read Matthew 24:1-14. Then, let go of what you can set aside. Find a new place in your home for what you value – rather than keeping it tucked away.

What Makes a Church Beautiful? - December 10

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; Haggai 1:1-15; Rev. 2:18-29; Matt. 23:27-39

Today’s Reflection

“‘Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which on the outside look beautiful, but inside they are full of the bones of the dead and of all kinds of filth. So you also on the outside look righteous to others, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.”  Matthew 23: 27-28

Oftentimes, we humans get swept up in the desire to keep up appearances. We want it to seem like we have our acts together, as individuals and as families, as churches and as communities. Maybe not everyone really gets along at home as well as they do when they’re out to dinner or at the soccer fields or at church on Sunday morning—if we have some problems, then we do our best to keep them quiet, hidden away under the proverbial rugs and behind our closed doors.

We spend a lot of time and money making sure our houses and yards look just so. We spend a lot of time and money making sure our personal appearance looks young and perfect—or as close as possible—whether our hair or skin, our clothes or our shoes. Of course, none of these things are bad in and of themselves. But beauty, as we all know, is more than skin deep.

True beauty goes much deeper than what we see on the surface. True beauty is cultivated within and shows forth through the radiant light of a genuine smile. True beauty is experienced as we share our laughter, our stories, and our lives with friends and family. True beauty is giving freely of all that we have and all that we are to all those whom God has placed within the circle of our care.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus is calling to task church leaders who are all about keeping up appearances. To the leaders of the most outwardly beautiful church in town, Jesus in effect says something like this: “Yes, yes, your church is very impressive.. But tell me this: How do you share love with people? What kind of welcome do you show to the people who are new, or dress differently, or live in a neighborhood across town? What kind of hospitality do you offer to people whose life experiences and stories seem radically unfamiliar, so different from your own? Because that, my friends, is where the true beauty of a church is to be found.”

Jesus wants to take us under his wings, gathering us up to Godself as a mother hen would gather her chicks—to keep us safe and warm and fed. And that’s just what God is hoping we will offer to the people who are out there, wandering through this broken, hurting world and, if we’re lucky, into our church communities. Churches are meant to be places of welcome and respite and refuge. Churches are meant to be places where anyone—absolutely anyone—can enter and know that they will find warm smiles, welcoming hearts, and a place where they can just be the people God has so lovingly created each of them (and us) to be.

So, it sounds like Jesus is saying is that the most beautiful church is not necessarily the one with the most ornate carvings, the most colorful stained-glass windows, or the grandest pipe organ. In No Cure for Being Human, Kate Bowler reminisces about visiting the Batalha Monastery in Portugal. Kate and her father, a fellow historian, moved from room to room, each seemingly more ornate than the last, until they reached a chapel that was “vaulted and spectacularly ornamented. It was fussy and beautiful and ridiculous.” But then Kate realized, as a shadow passed over head, that there was no ceiling, no dome. This chapel was part of a complex structure that was so grand that it could never be finished.

The standard of completeness was just too high to be fully achieved—and so, at a certain point, they just gave up on ever finishing it. Some experience this worship space as one that is flawed in its incompleteness. But what Kate experienced, as she took in the unfinished part of the chapel, was a sense of perfect imperfection. And then, as she and her historian father wandered through the space, they encountered an unknown, enthusiastic tourist whose perspective made a lasting impact on how Kate made sense of this ‘unfinished cathedral’: “But it’s much better this way… Don’t you see it? It’s us! I can’t imagine a more perfect expression of this life. … We’re never done, dear. Even when we’re done, we’re never done.”

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a time when you experienced a disconnect between the external façade of a place and what it was really like once you got inside. Maybe you felt disappointed by a restaurant or a hotel or even a church that from the outside seemed to be one thing, but on the inside was something else altogether. What did you learn by experiencing that disconnect?

Daily Challenge

Take a mental walk through the campus of Saint Stephen’s. Reflect on who and what people first encounter when they come to church to worship on a Sunday morning. What aspects might come across as closed or intimidating to someone who is new, or who is returning after a long absence?

What aspects of our buildings and our culture seem open and welcoming? What can you personally do to make Saint Stephen’s a place that is welcoming, a place where people want to come back again and again?

Learn more about strategies for being a welcoming church community through the Invite Welcome Connect ministry of the Episcopal Church.

Our Inner Poverty - December 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 37:1-18; PM Psalm 37:19-42; Amos 9:1-10; Rev. 2:8-17; Matt. 23:13-26

Last night, we filled blessing begs to be given out in a community a few miles from Saint Stephen’s, where we feed and clothe people who are housing insecure and hungry.  Weekly, a group from Saint Stephen’s cooks and serves breakfast in Avondale.  It’s a meaningful ministry, and I believe it to be important and the relationships and friendships built there are generative and sincere.  I have no doubt that the Gospel is not lived out in that ministry in profound ways.

This morning especially, I’m struck by the words of John in his vision written on Patmos.  He refers to the church in Smyrna (not the towns that aren’t too far away in Georgia or Tennessee) where we hear the words, “I know your affliction and your poverty, even though you are rich.” I think the words resonate more this morning for two reasons:  the church often focuses resources towards alleviating the burdens of the poor, and we as a faith community are located in an especially affluent community.  

For me, the words of John are so powerful, because it is helpful to be reminded that we are all poor, that we all are afflicted, and that we are all in need of God’s grace and love.  Yes, many in our immediate community have much more than many others (and are exceptionally generous too), but this doesn’t solve all of life’s problems.  As people of faith, to be open to God’s healing and hope in each of our own lives is necessary for us to be in healthy relationships with each other.  Money won’t solve our problems.  Nor will fame, success, ego, or most anything else.  But understanding who we are as children of God in need of God’s love and grace will open up the path towards healing. John’s words level the playing field and create a sort of equality that is so much needed today. 

As I think specifically to the work with the poor, something the church has always been called to do, it’s probably helpful for us to remember that we aren’t here to fix other people.  We are here to share what we have been given.  Relationships with people in the margins are a mutual sharing of our gifts which can sometimes expose our own inner poverty and affliction and create the space for healing.   

If you have yet to go to Avondale, or the ministries we are involved with in Woodlawn, or any of the other places where working with the poor is so important, I encourage you to do so.  There is much in the Bible that encourages us to do just this.  But it might be helpful to remember that everyone has gifts to share.  Friendships, listening, and being open to others and what they have to offer us are important because God is working to heal our inner poverty and infliction too. 

Faithfully,

John

Questions for Self-Reflection:    In what ways have you explored your own inner poverty and affliction?  In what ways do you find God’s healing and grace? 

Daily Challenge:  If this prompts you to consider a way of serving in an Outreach ministry, here is a link to our Outreach page and if you use Facebook, please join our Outreach Facebook group.

A really great seat - December 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48; Amos 8:1-14; Rev. 1:17-2:7; Matt. 23:1-12

The diocesan ordination to the priesthood was last night. It was a solemn, glorious event. The glorious part easily bubbles up as I reflect: the Cathedral Church of the Advent was filled with people to witness and celebrate four new priests. Family and friends traversed Birmingham streets and downtown construction on a Tuesday night to ascend the stairs and find a comfy pew in the Advent nave that was built in the 1890s. The altar was adorned in a deep red frontal with bursts of white flowers in vases to the left and right. The choir processed in, joining the booming organ and lilting violin. Then followed the banners of the four parishes where the ordinands serve. Clergy from across the state gathered in the liturgical parade down the aisle, decked out in red stoles – the color for ordinations. Friends old and new, masked and unmasked, gathered. It was glorious.

Now to the solemnity of the occasion. When the ordinands are presented, the bishop asks the presenters, at least one lay person and one member of the laity, if the person has met canonical requirements to be a priest, and if the ordinand lives a manner of life suitable to the exercise of this ministry. There are promises made and documents signed. This ministry of being a priest is hard and holy work. There is heft upon our shoulders and upon our hearts. This order of ministry can be destructive upon the lives of some. Perhaps you have seen a priest wrestle with keeping their footing on this gravelly road.

We read in Matthew 23:1-12 about those in ministry who are coming unraveled – or who are more occupied with the tassels on their robes than the pastoral needs of their communities. Here’s the tension: in ministry – and in life – very few of us can actually fix people. I have heard that three times in the last 24 hours. We cannot fix others’ brokenness. Perhaps the scribes and Pharisees were overwhelmed with the problems afoot, and so they put great energy into the parts of their existence and worship they could control and make beautiful. The churchy folks (or synagogue-y folks) lost sight of their North Star – the first and greatest commandment, which Jesus had just spelled out for the Pharisees a few verses earlier: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’ (Matthew 22:37-38) 

Friends, it is hard to stay on course with the tensions and hard stuff around us. Crescendo moments like ordinations, birthday parties, lunch with a dear friend, and the like, provide spaces of inspiration and honesty to recenter us. To keep us grounded and connected, so that we do not get swept away in isolation or self-aggrandizement. If you do find yourself in a really great seat, enjoy it. While you are there, pray for those in need. Reflect on how you got to that chair. Give thanks to God for those who have helped you, for you did not get there alone. Before you get too comfortable, remember that you are called to serve God. Step into a different perspective. And when you have the chance, invite someone else into the great seat.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Think about a glorious gathering you have attended. What do you remember? Who was sitting next to you? What of that experience is special for you in this moment?

Daily Challenge

Raising up new leaders is important. It is what Jesus did as a teacher and preacher. He prepared his disciples to go and do the same. What are you doing to raise up leaders around you? Spend five minutes journaling about how God may be using you to teach others.

Called to Love - December 7

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 26, 28; PM Psalm 36, 39; Amos 7:10-17; Rev. 1:9-16; Matt. 22:34-46

Today’s Reflection

Today is a very special day—it’s Ordination Day for four individuals called to be priests in God’s one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church: Jose Fernandez, Sally Herring, Sarah Watts, and our own Susan Oakes. But it’s also a special day for our whole Diocese, as we come together in person and en masse, with no pandemic restrictions, for the first time at our Cathedral since this pandemic began and for the first time with our new bishop.

We have four orders of ministry in the Anglican tradition: laity, deacons, priests, and bishops. It’s not a hierarchy, but rather a recognition of the different ways each of us is called to use our gifts to build up the kingdom of God. The four being ordained at the Cathedral Church of the Advent this evening have already been ordained as deacons, as we believe that at the core of ordained ministry is the call to servant leadership, the call of a deacon. As many like to say, and I wholeheartedly believe, “Once a deacon, always a deacon.” However, these four—and some of the rest of us—have also sensed the Spirit calling them to be priests. What does that mean? What are they committing to do and be?

I have noticed since being ordained that we clergy really like to be present for the ordinations of others. While the music and the scripture readings of the service will change, the prayers and the promises always remain the same. And speaking for myself, this is one of the big reasons why I like to attend others’ ordinations, as these occasions allow those already ordained to be reminded of what it is we have been called to do.

In the part of the service called The Examination, the bishop asks each ordination a series of questions about whether they believe they have been called (they respond “I do”), and whether they agree to commit to practices including studying scripture, proclaiming the Word of God, administering the sacraments, being a faithful pastor, patterning their personal lives after Christ, and committing to a life of prayer (they respond “I will”). But just before she asks them to respond to these questions, and thereby commit to these practices, the bishop will say this:

As a priest, it will be your 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. You are to preach, to declare God's forgiveness to penitent sinners, to pronounce God's blessing, to share in the administration of Holy Baptism and in the celebration of the mysteries of Christ's Body and Blood, and to perform the other ministrations entrusted to you. In all that you do, you are to nourish Christ's people from the riches of his grace, and strengthen them to glorify God in this life and in the life to come (BCP 531).

Just after this, all the priests present at the ordination (and for this evening’s ordination, that means just about every priest from around the Diocese!) will gather around the ordinands as they kneel before the bishop. Veni sancte spiritus (Come Holy Spirit) will be sung, the bishop will then lay her hands on the heads of each ordinand, and the priests will also reach out and lay their hands on the ordinand’s arm, shoulder, and back (or, as in the case of tonight, with such a large crowd of priests, perhaps reach out in a chain of people that ends with someone touching the ordinand). It’s a powerful moment, a room filled with people singing and praying for the Holy Spirit to come and be present in the life and ministry of this person (or tonight, these four persons).

Ultimately, everything contained in this beautiful service points us back to what is most important: God’s unending love for us, and our call to love God and one another with all that we are and with all that we have and in all that we do:

‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ He said to him, ‘“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’ —Matthew 22: 36-40

Many words are prayed and sung and said in the liturgy of the Ordination of a Priest. It’s a lot to remember—but ultimately, the call to follow Christ, does not have to be complex. Really, it is very simple: Love God with all your heart, all your soul, and your mind—and love one another. This is what we are all called to do. May the Holy Spirit fill us with the grace and power needed to love boldly and without fear.

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What moments in your life in Christ have served as moments when you could commit or recommit yourself to God and God’s purposes for your life?

Daily Challenge

Consider attending the ordination this evening at 5:30 p.m. at the Cathedral Church of the Advent, whether in person or by viewing it online here.

The Alpha and Omega

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15; Amos 7:1-9; Rev. 1:1-8; Matt. 22:23-33

My favorite Hebrew word is the word for ‘truth’ which is ‘emet’ or אֶמֶת.  The three letters are specific as is the case with most of the language. Everything has not only a purpose but relationship.  The word is built from the first letter, the middle letter, and the last letter of the Hebrew alphabet.  Truth is not a blip in the history of time, but the beginning, middle, and end.  So often we take our limited point of view and claim it with absolute certainty, but God’s truth is much larger and encompasses the entirety of the story.  It is not a moment in history but the entire history itself.  Everything is a part of God’s truth, the whole story.

Today’s Advent readings take us into the Book of Revelation, a theological exploration of what it means to suffer under persecution and conflict with a hopeful vision cast upon the future.  It is from this writing that we garner the image of God as the “Alpha and the Omega,” the beginning and the end, “who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.”  God is the whole story. 

One of the assumptions with thinking about the ‘whole story’ is our own limited capacity to see the bigger picture.  We think we see the whole picture only to learn more of the details at a later point.  This is why art, literature, and film are so important.  They always uncover other points of view that develop the story in new ways. 

What this understanding exposes for all of us are our own limitations to comprehend the larger picture.  We think we know the whole picture only to be reminded that God’s truth is a little (or a whole lot) larger.  This doesn’t mean that our truth isn’t a part of God’s truth, only that it is not the whole picture.  Maybe on good days we get a few letters of the alphabet, but not it all.

I wonder this year more than ever, what it would mean to approach the same story of Christmas with new wonder and expectation that we might not know the whole story.  What if there is something new for each of us to discover and to learn?  A new present wrapped for each of us waiting to be opened as a gift to change our lives? 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  When are times in your life when you have learned something new that has changed your perspective?  What areas of your life are you being invited to consider learning more or adding more points of view to your perspective?

Daily Challenge: Make today a day of suspending judgment and seeking understanding.  Make your goal to learn others’ points of view as opposed to sharing your point of view. 

Prayer and healing - December 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 20, 21:1-7; PM Psalm 110:1-5, 116, 117; Amos 5:18-27; Jude 17-25; Matt. 22:15-22

Confession time: sometimes I don’t know what to pray.

This week, a dear childhood friend let me know that her mother had a stroke. Amazingly, they were together at the very moment the symptoms of the blockage became apparent, so she rushed her mom to the hospital. And then, my friend had to wait and wait and wait to hear what the doctors were going to do. She texted to ask for prayer. It was about 4:30 in the afternoon. This dear family remained on my heart that evening, and as I prayed for them the next morning driving to work, the only words I could find were these: “Be present with them, Jesus. Be present with them, O Lord.” At a loss, I did not know what else to ask.

There is a service of public healing used in the Episcopal church (referenced as Ministration to the Sick in the Book of Common Prayer) that comes to mind as I think about healing prayer. After laying hands upon someone and anointing them, the priest can say, “The Almighty Lord, who is a strong tower to all who put their trust in him, to whom all things in heaven, on earth, and under the earth bow and obey: Be now and evermore your defense, and make you know and feel that the only Name under heaven given for health and salvation is the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.”

I love those words – the name given to us for health and salvation is the Name of our Redeemer, Jesus Christ. This prayer reminds us that it is the redeeming work of Jesus that heals us and binds us together as Christians. It is God’s work of healing that we wait for and long to see. This prayer reminds us of the strength and promise given to us as we keep trying to put our trust in the strong tower of our Almighty Lord. When we call out for God to be present with us, we are doing just that…trusting in God.

One of the psalms appointed for this morning has the ring of a prayer of reassurance, or a blessing offered upon our lives, sending us out into this day, regardless of what will come into our path:

May the Lord answer you in the day of trouble,
the Name of the God of Jacob defend you;
Send you help from his holy place
and strengthen you out of Zion;
Remember all your offerings
and accept your burnt sacrifice;
Grant you your heart's desire
and prosper all your plans. (Psalm 20:1-4)

These ancient words remind us that in praying for one another, we can ask God to answer cries for help, protect those in danger, strengthen those who are weak, receive the gifts we offer, and be with us in all that we do and desire.

This excerpt from Psalm 20 is the prayer I am praying for each person reading this reflection today. Oddly enough, it is not unlike the rudimentary prayer, “Be present with them, O Lord.”

Who in your life needs to know and feel God’s healing grace this day?

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

 What does health and healing look like for you? How does prayer factor into your whole-self treatment plan?

Who is on your heart today, in need of healing?

Daily Challenge

Write a prayer for healing. If you need inspiration, you may copy one derived from a psalm, like this reflection, or from the Book of Common Prayer (pages 453-461). Share it with someone.

Psalms are for Praying - December 3

Today’s Reflection

I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel;
my heart teaches me, night after night.
I have set the Lord always before me;
because he is at my right hand I shall not fall.

—Psalm 16: 7-8

As a little girl, I had just one Bible for my entire childhood. It was a white, leatherbound volume of the King James Version that could be enclosed by a zipper with a cross-shaped silver pull. I took it for granted then, but as I write this now, I wonder why a book would have a zipper. To me, it just seemed something that set the Bible apart as different and special. Maybe it was to be keep its very thin, fragile pages safe from being ripped or torn? I guess I’ll never know. But in any case, that Bible was special to me, as I carried it each Sunday to and from the small Baptist church I attended down the street. We lived so close that we could walk to church.

At home, I kept my Bible on the desk or nightstand near my canopy bed. I have memories of looking up and praying to God as I was lying there before going to sleep each night. I imagined God was up there somewhere in the mysteriousness of whatever was beyond the canopy. I also remember that, besides trying to learn whatever “memory verses” we had been set to memorize by Sunday School or VBS teachers, I would also open my little white zippered KJV and read it on my own at home, usually at bedtime. For whatever reason, I was always drawn as a small child (elementary school age) to the Psalms. Maybe even then I was drawn to its poetry.

To me, the Psalms are the one part of the Bible that have always made the most sense. They capture a real person’s prayers to God—prayers of thankfulness, prayers of crying out in sadness, prayers of asking for direction—and as such, the Psalms reveal so much about what our relationship with God can be if we remain in consistent conversation with God through prayer, no matter what we may be going through in our lives.

Recently, I came across a version of the Psalms I had not yet encountered called Psalms for Praying: An Invitation to Wholeness by Nan C. Merrill. She seeks to re-cast the spirit of each Psalm into words that make them perhaps more accessible to the prayer lives of people today. In particular, she emphasizes God as Love and Beloved by us. She writes, “To pray is to be transformed. We become One in the Silence with pray-ers from every country who are scattering seeds of love and light into the chaos; thus, we blanket the world with a web of peace. Just as light dispels darkness, fear cannot exist where Love abides…. May the prayers of all who read, pray, or sing the Psalms help awaken us to the Peace of the Beloved indwelling in every soul.”

Here is the Merrill’s recasting of Psalm 16, one of the Psalms appointed for this morning. I pray you will find it life-giving to pray these words “with heartfelt attention and intention” as you begin or end this day.

Becky+

Psalm 16 from Psalms for Praying: An Invitation to Wholeness

Remain ever before me,

O Living Presence,

for in You am I safe.

You are my Beloved; in You

and through You

I can do all things.

I look to those who are at one

with You and learn

from them of Your ways;

My delight increases each time

I sense your Presence within me!

Songs of praise well up from my heart!

Love is my chosen food, my cup,

holding me in its power.

Where I have come from,

where’er I shall go,

Love is my birthright,

my true estate.

I bless the Counselor who guides my way;

in the night also does my heart instruct me.

I walk beside the Spirit of Truth;

I celebrate the Light.

I bask in The Oneness of All!

Thus my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices;

I shall not be afraid,

nor fall into the pit of despair;

For in Love’s presence I know fullness of joy.

You are my Beloved and,

in You will I live forever!

Questions for Self-Reflection

What lines or lines from this version of Psalm 16 resonate most with you this day? What scene from your life does this line of poetry and prayer bring to mind for you? Why?

Daily Challenge

For the remainder of Advent, consider making it your daily spiritual practice to pray the Psalms for each day out loud—whether as you begin the day, as a way to refocus on God at midday, or to close your day (or maybe even at each of these points throughout the day).

Waiting as Salvation

Today’s Readings:AM Psalm 18:1-20; PM Psalm 18:21-50; Amos 4:6-13; 2 Pet. 3:11-18; Matt. 21:33-46

Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish; and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation. – 2 Peter 3:14-15a

One of my favorite sayings is “God may love you just the way you are, but he also refuses to leave you that way.” I love the idea that we are all beautifully made in the image of God, and yet at the same time that God is up to something profound in our life and that we are in the process of growing and changing and becoming the person that God created.  We don’t have to dwell in the shame of the past but be open to each new day and new possibility.  God’s grace is always the defining ethic, but it means there is a trajectory for our lives.

The organizers of our daily lectionary were intentional in the logic behind reading 2 Peter at Advent.  It’s concerned with the coming of God’s kingdom, a new heaven and earth being made manifest here.  It addresses questions such as how we should live our lives if God’s return is on the horizon and what to do with the time in between.  The second coming of Christ is taking longer than the earlier followers expected and the author is inviting them to see waiting as God’s salvation. “Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish; and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation.”

One of the gifts of growth and our own social evolution has been the time required for nearly every part of our lives, really the growth of leisure time.  We can get books as instant downloads, groceries delivered to our homes, and movies streamed to our televisions.  I read recently about a business model to deliver essential items to your home within two hours (not in our market yet)!   I think we expect the same with our own lives that we can instantly learn and grow to be the people that we want to be. 

So, it’s a shift for us to see waiting as God’s salvation, time to grow into the people that God has called us to be.  There are a lot of things I’d like God to fix right this very minute, and so the author of Peter is challenging us to this gift of waiting as an opportunity to grow. When we see the world in pain, suffering, injustice, and inequality, we likely want God to fix it all and it can be challenging to reconcile ourselves with the present reality lived by so many. And yet, 2 Peter gives us hope in suggesting we (and the world) aren’t supposed to be perfect because Christ hasn’t returned. But instead to see God’s patience as salvation, an opportunity to prepare for the return of our Lord.

What are you supposed to be doing with your life? Well, “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen” (2 Peter 3:18). We all have some homework, and we get the rest of our lives to work on it.

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How do you see yourself continuing to grow?  What steps do you take to practice growth?  Consider what plans to make in the coming year to grow in your faith.

Daily Challenge:  The irony of this reflection, is you are hopefully growing if you read a daily reflection each day.  Consider attending a class, lecture, or small group discussion at Saint Stephen’s as well.  A list can be found here.

Reset Button – December 1

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14; Amos 3:12-4:5; 2 Pet. 3:1-10; Matt. 21:23-32

As I write this, it is the early morning of December 1 in the first week of Advent. The first day of a new month. A new beginning. There is something refreshing about having a mindset of a fresh start. A time to reset. A time to be open to the possibility of what is to come. At that threshold, I also look back at what has passed – in the last month, in the last year, across the last four decades of my memory. Pausing to reflect on where and when God’s presence has been with me. Giving thanks for the memories that are seared in love and loss. And while I get swept into tributaries of side-thoughts, I hear in my heart the prayerful words of my Education for Ministry (EfM) mentor from many years ago: “For all that was, for all that is, for all that will be, thanks be to God.”

One of the first times I heard those words from Katy Smith, I was still very raw emotionally. My mom had died, and I was really struggling with grief and loss. With trepidation and tears, I stumbled through a spiritual autobiography, retelling my life story. A story that felt shattered without my mom in it. In framing a version of my own lived experience through the lens of faith in that small group setting, it was a fresh start for me – a pinnacle to look out and see all around, before beginning a journey of understanding, sharing, reading, praying, and learning.

Here’s the paradoxical thing about being at a threshold point: it is an exhilarating feeling of standing upon a mountaintop with the greatest perspective, and simultaneously it is the humble first step on a journey that is not fully revealed.

I wonder what Jesus’ interactions of the chief priests and elders in Matthew 21 would have looked like if the temple-folk had the view that we have now. Could they have seen Jesus’ teaching in the temple with fresh eyes? Would they have been open to believing God’s promise of the Messiah was being fulfilled in real time? What question would the chief priests have offered to deepen their understanding of Jesus’ exposition of the Torah? We know from this account in Matthew that the question offered was not germane to Jesus’ thesis of the day, rather it was a request for credentials: “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”

Friends, take this reflection as an invitation to the bold vulnerability of wonder in this season of Advent. None of us know all of the answers. Let us put on the garment of childlike faith. Find a space to take stock of what is in the past. Feel the hurt. Name the joy. Know that God was with you in the crevices. And the beauty is here. And will be. Thanks be to God.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What does having a fresh start mean for you today? Where is that an invitation? Where is it an impossible dream?

When met with wonder and newness, how do you respond?

Daily Challenge

Write down the words, “For all that was, for all that is, for all that will be, thanks be to God.” Sit with this prayer. Write down the things that bubble up for you in the categories “was” and “is”. Now, ponder and pray about the “will be” – that God’s will be done.

Re-Experiencing the Waiting and the Wonder - November 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 5, 6; PM Psalm 10, 11; Amos 3:1-11; 2 Pet. 1:12-21; Matt. 21:12-22

Today’s Reflection

Therefore I intend to keep on reminding you of these things, though you know them already and are established in the truth that has come to you. I think it right, as long as I am in this body, to refresh your memory … And I will make every effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to recall these things. –2 Peter 1: 12-13, 15

What are “these things” that Peter wants to make sure that people will remember, even though they already know them? Looking back at the 2 Peter passage from yesterday, “these things” are “everything needed for life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.” But holding fast to “these things,” Peter tells us that we may “escape from the corruption that is in the world” and thereby “may become participants in the divine nature. For this very reason, you must make every effort to support your faith with goodness, and goodness with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with endurance, and endurance with godliness, and godliness with mutual affection, and mutual affection with love.”

Peter knows that soon he and the others who had walked with Jesus and heard his words would soon be gone. And he is concerned that the people who remain, the future generations, will continue to carry the light of Christ with them and hold fast to their faith. Peter knows that it will be challenging when those who were “eyewitnesses to his majesty” have passed away, so he wants to make sure that he has done his due diligence in proclaiming the Good News of Christ. Peter wants his fellow Christ-followers to know that the prophetic message of God’s saving grace and love is not something that they just made up, “we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Rather, Peter reassures us that, “We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.”

Beginning with this past Sunday, the first Sunday of Advent, we have begun again a new church year. With each new year in the church calendar, we cycle through another set of Sunday and weekday readings that allow us to experience anew the story of God’s redemption of his dearly loved children, from Creation and the Garden through the stories of the people of Israel, through to the Incarnation with Jesus’ birth, life, and death, and ultimately his glorious Resurrection.

And so, too, in our liturgical calendar we begin again the re-experiencing of the life of Christ and God’s faithful people as we begin this season of Advent. We know well how the story continues and what everything is leading up to. And yet we have this beautiful tradition in which each year we commit to re-experiencing the wonder of watching and waiting again for the birth of Christ. As we hear in 1 Peter today, “Therefore I intend to keep on reminding you of these things, though you know them already and are established in the truth that has come to you.” We already know these things, we know these stories of Zechariah and Elizabeth, of Gabriel appearing to Mary, of Joseph’s dream, of the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, of Jesus’ birth in the humblest of places, of the angels proclaiming God’s glory and the shepherds who looked on in wonder.

We know these stories. We hold them in our hearts as we go about our lives of faith the rest of the year. But being reminded of them—reveling in our Advent wreaths and these stories and scriptures and songs like clockwork every year—is what allows us to continue to carry the truth of these stories with us throughout the rest of the year: “So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” –2 Peter 1: 19

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What traditions of the Advent season are most dear to you? What songs do you look forward to singing at this time of year? Which story from Scripture that we hear in the weeks leading up to Christmas most fills your heart and mind with wonder and awe about God’s great love for us?

Daily Challenge

Bookmark these Advent devotionals to help you experience each day the wonder and waiting of the Advent season through the beauty of visual art (https://thevcs.org/Advent2021) and poetry (https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/blog/).

Reason for the Season - November 29

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7; Amos 2:6-16; 2 Pet. 1:1-11; Matt. 21:1-11

“His divine power has given us everything needed for life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.” – 2 Peter 1:3

It’s that time of year that I worry more about gifts than usual.   My mode switches to focusing on how do I show my children, friends, and family love on Christmas. A conversation has been had more than once recently about the need to go ahead and ‘figure out Christmas’ before we are impacted by supply chains and inventory issues, things that have nothing to do with God’s promise of love through Jesus Christ.   Even clergy get Christmas confused sometimes.

Yesterday was the beginning of Advent and today our daily lectionary cycle begins new.  We start over with the Book of Psalms and our readings take a shift as well.  We are officially in the Christmas preparation stage of the year, known to us as Advent.  As we read the Scriptures this morning, 2 Peter jumps out as an interesting text to begin this season of Advent with, a reminder that by ‘[God’s] divine power, [he] has given us everything needed for life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.”

It might be helpful for us all as we enter this season to remember that this season isn’t about what we can do for others (although that is always a helpful. and important ethic to consider) but instead what God has already done, and will reveal more fully on Christmas, for each of us.   Blessings this holy season of Advent, and may your time be less filled with the fraught of what you must get done, and more time spent on what God has already done for each of you. May that be what shapes our generosity and vision for the season.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What role does the season of Advent play in your life?  How do you prepare for Christmas?  What role do gifts play in your own sharing of Christmas?

Daily Challenge:  Pick one way you plan on living into the season of Advent differently this year.  Write it down or share it with someone to hold you accountable.

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.