I Will Restore You - February 5

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 75, 76; PM Psalm 23, 27; Gen. 24:28-38,49-51; Heb. 12:12-29; John 7:14-36

Today’s Reflection

At that time his voice shook the earth; but now he has promised, ‘Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heaven.’ This phrase ‘Yet once more’ indicates the removal of what is shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire. –Hebrews 12: 26-29

I’m writing to you this morning from Camp McDowell, where your clergy and lay delegates are representing Saint Stephen’s at the Diocese of Alabama’s 191st Convention. Here, we are gathering with colleagues and friends to hear from our bishop and other leaders on the state of the Diocese, and to do the work of voting for resolutions and electing people to the governing boards of the Diocese. But more importantly, we are also gathering so that we may break bread, share conversations, worship together, and deepen our faith through listening to teaching and preaching from our guest speaker and preacher, the Rev. Dr. Sam Wells (who is also speaking this evening at Saint Stephen’s—please come!).

Yesterday, we heard twice from Sam Wells. In the afternoon, Wells gave a talk on scarcity and abundance in both our individual lives and in the life of the church and the world. But before he gave his lecture, he first shared with us a meditation on the passage in Daniel 3 on Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. These three faithful Jews were living in Babylon under the rule of King Nebuchadnezzar, and because they loved God more than the king—and would not bow down to worship a golden statue he had made in his own image—they were experiencing a time of great trial. They could either submit to the king or be thrown into a furnace of fire. Here is how they responded: “If our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire and out of your hand, O king, let him deliver us” (3: 17).

So, into the fire they were thrown, and here is what Nebuchadnezzar witnessed: “But I see four men unbound, walking in the middle of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the fourth has the appearance of a god” (3: 25). These three faithful men were not spared the time of trial—but they also were not left to face it on their own. God was there walking through the fire with them, so that they would be able to emerge from the fire and continue to love and praise God. As Wells observed, “Their story shows us what salvation means. What salvation doesn’t mean is that the virus can’t hurt us. … Salvation doesn’t mean freedom from sickness, care, anxiety, fear, pain, or threat. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego don’t avoid the fiery furnace. Christians don’t believe they’re immune from suffering, sealed off from worry, aloof from conflict, inoculated against conflict, exempt from grief. Quite the opposite, as this story makes clear. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego face suffering, worry, conflict, panic, and grief precisely because they’re people of faith and because they uphold God’s name.” But here’s the hope we must find and cling to as we encounter their story: “When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are thrown down into the fire, God is with them.”

Then, in our evening Eucharist, we heard Wells preach on another passage from the Hebrew scriptures, this one from the prophet Joel. It’s a passage written to people who have survived another great time of trial, fifty years of exile. The plague of locusts, as Wells observes, is a metaphor for everything they have lost. And this is what God tells them: “I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten.” This verse became the refrain of Wells’ sermon on restoration. We have all gone through times of loss and grief.

Wells describes a broken teapot, a favorite teapot with many memories attached to it. Our instinct is to want to repair the teapot so that it is exactly as it was before, and yet that is not possible. But the truth that we find is that the restored teapot, with “a decidedly dodgy, reattached spout,” is now a better teapot because it has been loved enough to be restored. Wells reflects: “So, too, Israel wasn’t the same as the Israel that was taken into captivity…. Restoration didn’t mean simple return to the status quo before the disaster. It was something new—combining what was good in the previous era with what was true about the challenging one.”

As we read in the Hebrews passage appointed for today, we go through times in which seemingly every single aspect of our lives will be shaken. But what I have found, and what I hope you have found, is that as we come through these times of trial, what remains is “a kingdom that cannot be shaken”—or burned by fire or consumed by locusts.  

As Wells concluded his sermon last evening: “I wonder if your story resonates. … I wonder whether when you hear the words, ‘the years the swarming locust has eaten, you know which years those are. Maybe you’re in the middle of those years right now. If so, hear those words spoke to the prophet Joel in your heart today: ‘I will restore to you the years swarming locust has eaten.’ I will restore them. They are not wasted. They are not forgotten. They do not have the last word. I will restore those years. Maybe you can look back and see how God has done exactly that, redeeming your exile, your devastated fields, and restoring you to life and love.”

Thanks be to God.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What is the fire you have walked through or are walking through? How do you see God in the fire with you? What are the years you have lost to the swarming locust? How has God restored them—or how is moving in your life to restore them even now?

Daily Challenge

Listen to Wells’ sermon on restoration from Diocesan Convention here.

Come hear Sam Wells reflect on “Does God Heal? tonight at 7 p.m. in the Parish Hall or watch the livestream here.

Weather aware – February 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Gen. 24:1-27; Heb. 12:3-11; John 7:1-13

“Hi, Mom! Do you know if it is supposed to rain today?”

This is the greeting my 10-year-old daughter has issued for the past couple of mornings. Inclement weather – the type that generates blaring weather warnings and trips to our safe space – brings consternation and worry to her mind. And so, when storms are brewing, she checks in about the forecast. If you were out and about on Thursday, perhaps you heard the tornado sirens blaring for a while. School buses were held and children were not immediately dismissed from class due to a cold front and unpredictable storms. Those bound to Camp McDowell from around the state for the 191st Diocesan Convention may have hit a snag or traffic snarl. I hope you and yours did not sustain damage or disruption.

This evening, as Saint Stephen’s diocesan convention delegates visited after Evening Prayer in St. Francis Chapel, our conversation drifted to tales of harrowing weather experiences, with the storms of today in our recent memory. Several people shared what happened to them during “Snowmageddon” of January 2014 – when a sizable winter storm popped up, leaving roads frozen, lots of snow and ice, and people of all ages stranded at school, work, in cars. Some drove for hours to travel only a few miles home, were nearly out of gas, or graced by the help of strangers on the roadways. Others had no option to leave, as patients and students needed care. One parishioner was a first responder; he drove his four-wheel-drive vehicle to deliver people of all ages to their homes, so that they would not be stuck or stranded. Stories of determination, courage, kindness, and fear.

As I ruminate upon the stories shared and the Holy Scriptures for today, a portion of Psalm 69 jumps out at me:

1 Save me, O God,
for the waters have risen up to my neck.

2 I am sinking in deep mire,
and there is no firm ground for my feet.

3 I have come into deep waters,
and the torrent washes over me.

When we find ourselves in positions of peril, we cry out. We call for our loved ones to give us advice and reassurance. We weep (inside or openly), knowing that we are scared and vulnerable.

We pray that God will be with us, bringing us stillness and calm in the storm. It is scary to feel the waters rising up to our necks. It is jarring to hear the blaring alarm of a weather radio. This psalm reminds me to call out to God in fear: “In your great mercy, O God, answer me with your unfailing help. Save me from the mire; do not let me sink; let me be rescued from those who hate me and out of the deep waters…Answer me, O Lord, for your love is kind; in your great compassion, turn to me.” (v. 15, 16, 18)

Prayer is our lifeline to God in those moments, sustaining us. Calming us. This ancient psalm can be a reminder that others have been stuck in bad weather, or a bad relationship. They called out to God in a moment of need. They trusted that God would be faithful and present in their time of trial. As we read in the final verses of Psalm 69, “For the Lord listens to the needy, and his prisoners he does not despise.” God is faithful. God is good. God is. For this, let us rejoice!

- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Who is the first person you think to reach out to when you have a problem? Do you ask for help or guidance? Why else do you reach out for someone when you are hurting? 

Daily Challenge

Stay tuned to this weekend’s diocesan convention – worship and scripture, resolutions and elections. You can watch the 191st Diocesan Convention by clicking here.

Life & Spirit - February 3

Today’s Readings: AM [Psalm 70], 71; PM Psalm 74; Gen. 23:1-20; Heb. 11:32-12:2; John 6:60-71

Two tender and sacred moments for me this week were inspired by God’s word -  one spoken in sermon form and the other read in Scripture.  Sunday night, at our Celtic Service, I needed I hear God’s love proclaimed as a power we offer, not in what is received from that power.  It was a reminder to me that all I can do is love, regardless of the outcome and that it won’t always be received the way I want it to be received.  The second was in mediation on Holy Scripture as I prepare for Sunday’s sermon.  Reading Simon calling Jesus ‘Master’ in Luke 5:5 before he fully comprehends who Jesus is and before he abandons his identity to follow Jesus fully was a grace filled moment.  It reminded me that I (and the rest of us) don’t have to have it all fully figured out but to see our lives as a trajectory of deepening our call to discipleship.  I received grace and hope (and life) from God’s word. 

 In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells his friends that the words he has spoken to them are “spirit and life.”  I am reminded of God’s word through preaching and through Holy Scripture that has the ability to give us life and guide US through the work of the Spirit.   As Episcopalians, it seems easy to default to reason and tradition to find meaning and purpose.  But God’s Word has other avenues as well, and Scripture has the power to give us life, meaning, hope, grace, and purpose.

If you are still reading these reflections nearly two years after we begin, maybe you have found the same.  If you are new to reading the reflections, then I hope you will find that reading the daily Scripture within is a helpful practice in your life that gives life and Spirit.  And hopefully from time to time, one of us through God’s inspiration provides an insight that brings comfort, hope, and maybe even a challenge to live into God’s call for each of us.

God’s word gives life and spirit.  May we search it out and find it.

John+
Questions for Daily Reflection:  Are there Scriptures that you have read recently that have impacted your life or changed your approach to life?  What about something you have heard in a sermon?

Daily Challenge:  Intentionally read the Scriptures appointed for today.  The links are embedded in this email. 

Hannah the Game Changer - February 2

Today’s Readings: Readings for the Feast of the Presentation AM Psalm 42, 43; PM Psalm 48, 87; 1 Samuel 2:1-10; John 8:31-36

Today’s Reflection

Hannah prayed and said, ‘My heart exults in the Lord;
   my strength is exalted in my God.’ –1 Samuel 2:1

The story we hear in these early chapters of 1 Samuel is a dramatic one. A young boy, maybe a teenager, hears a voice and it turns out to be the voice of God. But Samuel is not the only one who hears God’s call in this story. Other people had to have faith and listen to God’s voice in order to lay the foundation that made it possible for Samuel to do the same when his own time came.

If we backtrack a bit to 1 Samuel 1, we hear about Samuel’s mother Hannah. She was married to Elkanah, who also had another wife, Peninnah, with whom he had sons and daughters. Hannah, too, desperately wanted to have children, but year after year no child came to Hannah and her husband. Setting aside that he had two wives, since that was culturally acceptable back then, other than that, Elkinah seems to have been a good husband. He gave Hannah “a double portion because he loved her, though the LORD had closed her womb.” Peninnah flouted her abundance of children, causing Hannah great sadness and frustration. Elkanah, for all his understanding, couldn’t fully understand Hannah’s grief: “Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?” In other words, why aren’t I enough?

But Hannah believed deep in her heart that she was meant to have a child, meant to be a mother. She felt called to it. So, she kept praying at Shiloh and kept asking God to hear her and send her a son. And she made a promise—if you give me a son, I will dedicate him to you and the service of your temple. As she prayed so intently, the priest Eli heard her as “she poured out her soul before the LORD.” She explained to Eli that she was praying so intently because of “my great anxiety and vexation.” Eli responded with kindness and offered Hannah some hope: “Go in peace; the God of Israel grant the petition you have made to him.”

Fast forward and we learn that God granted Hannah and Elkanah the son Hannah had hoped for, a son they named Samuel. And once Samuel was weaned, probably 3-4 years old in those times, Hannah brought Samuel to serve alongside Eli in the temple. And how touching to hear how she would visit him every year and bring him a new little robe, ensuring that he would have a tangible sign of being clothed and covered in his mother’s love.

For Samuel to exist, and to be there in the temple apprenticed to Eli, his mother Hannah first had to be listening to God’s voice stirring in her, helping her to stay close to God and keep holding on to hope that God had something better in store for her, that she was not destined to stay mired in hopelessness. Hannah had faith that God heard her. And Hannah had faith that God would watch over her son and that he was meant to serve God and his people for his whole life. Hannah had to have faith and be listening to God for so many other things to be set into motion for so many other people.

When we listen for God’s call, it isn’t as simple as listening to a call to an individual that has no impact or influence on anyone else. Hannah’s listening to God impacted Eli’s life, and Eli’s listening to God impacted Hannah’s life—and both of their listening paved the way for Samuel in turn to listen to God, which in the long run paved the way for Saul and David and everyone who would be impacted by their leadership for years to come. So, when we listen to God in our own life, we should be prepared for and ready to accept how God’s particular call to us will, in turn, change the lives of others—in our families, in our church, in our wider communities, and in the whole world.

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Looking back on your own life’s path, how did the faith and lives of others clear the path for you? Who have you been able to support as they discerned their own next steps on life’s path?

Daily Challenge

Bible scholar Ruth Fidler observes that, “In her short presence in the Hebrew Bible, Hannah turns out to be a game changer: a strong-willed woman of faith, she rises above her pain to act towards her goal of becoming a mother.” Read more of Fidler’s analysis of Hannah’s role in this brief article found on Bible Odyssey (a project supported by the Society for Biblical Literature and the National Endowment for the Humanities).

Gotta Have Faith - February 1

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 61, 62; PM Psalm 68:1-20(21-23)24-36
Gen. 21:1-21; Heb. 11:13-22; John 6:41-51

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1)

This quote from Hebrews is one that I hear people rehearse when talking about faith, that amorphous thing that tethers us to God. The writer of Hebrews is trying to inspire and ground the audience in faithful living, despite the distractions around them. And so, we hear these words: Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. In other words, faith is being steady and committed to God, trusting in the promise ahead. Faith is seeing proof in the invisible.

Can you imagine that there are days that faith in God is hard to sell? Building trust and endurance take practice. When pieces of life keep crumbling, one by one, three by three, it is no surprise that faith feels like it is on backorder, like puffy jackets from L. L. Bean.

The writer of Hebrews knows this all too well. In the rallying words of this sermon, we hear and see rhetorical devices to keep us engaged. Presented for us, case by case, is a parade of those who have been faithful to God, when hope was scarce, and the options appeared dim. Each player is introduced with the phrase “by faith” and is known as a pillar of deep commitment to God in challenging times. By faith, Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice. By faith Noah warned by God, respected that warning and built an ark. By faith, Abraham obeyed when God called him to move to a new place not yet known or revealed to him. By faith, Sarah received the power of procreation, bearing a child – Isaac – when she thought she was too old to do so.

As today’s excerpt from Hebrews opens, each of these people died before seeing the result assured by Jehovah, and yet, they were welcomed in the promise ahead. As this priest-directed pep talk continues, these faithful people of Jewish yore are extolled in an interesting way: “They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one.” (11:13-16) These faithful founders embraced their apart-ness, not quite fitting in with the norms and times around them. They knew that they were called in the right now, with their eyes and hearts focused on what was ahead, with God’s help and healing.

These words of inspiration for churches in the years following Jesus can be a source of encouragement for us today. Each of us has a different relationship with God and describes our faith differently. When we share stories of hardship, prayers answered and unanswered, and listen to the testimonies of others who follow the way of Jesus, we see God around us, and acting in one another’s lives. Faith can become a little more clearly defined in our eyes. And perhaps, each of us can state our own verse to be written in the continuing letter to the Hebrews, naming how we lived faithfully in God, with determination and steadiness, by faith.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

How do you talk about your faith?

What does faithfulness to God look like for you?

Daily Challenge

In Hebrews 11, we read about the faithful pillars of our faith living as outsiders. Think about times when you have felt like a stranger or foreigner. How does that challenge you today? Ponder in prayer and journal for fifteen minutes about where God is calling you to be an outsider because of your faith.

Quest for Meaning - January 31

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Gen. 19:1-17(18-23)24-29; Heb. 11:1-12; John 6:27-40

“Many people are convinced that there is something terribly wrong with the world in which they live and feel that cooperation with existing models of living constitutes a kind of betrayal of the self.  Everywhere we see restless and nervous people, unable to concentrate and often suffering from a growing sense of depression.  They know that what it shouldn’t be the way it is, but they see no workable alternative.  Thus they are saddled with frustration, which often expresses itself in undirected, purposeless violence, or in suicidal withdrawal from the world, both of which are signs more of protest than of the results of a new-found ideal.”[1]

I’m struck with these words from fifty years ago as Henri Nouwen is trying to explain ministry in Contemporary Society and the problem that plagues humanity.  He is describing the sense of loss of rootedness amongst people that have them wandering and searching, but more than anything dissatisfied with the human experience. Life fails to fill the vast emptiness felt and people are left unsettled with the human condition. His words could have easily been written today as people search for the right neighborhood, gadget, feeling, or church to feel as if they finally understand what they are searching for in life only to find themselves more dissatisfied than ever. 

“Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life,” says Jesus to his friends in the Gospel of John.  He is reminding them of their goals which focus on the temporal world.  Most recently, I visited my parents who have just moved from their home of thirty-three years into a two-bedroom condominium.  This of course meant me renting a U-Haul to bring many things that I do not need to Birmingham.   

What was more unsettling was the years of belongings and things acquired that were almost instantly diminished to having no value. My sister and I looked upon things with shrugged shoulders wondering how in the world we save all of these things to which the answer was an overwhelming, “We can’t.”

We live in a world which is temporal in nature which drives us to wonder how we best spend what limited gift of presence we have, a quest for meaning.  Maybe that is what drives us to faith.  Jesus’s words offer us a radical alternative and truth to the all-consuming identity quest of contemporary society. 

To set our eyes on that which is eternal – that is the solution of the Christian faith.  I am convinced more than ever that the problem of contemporary society isn’t just the identity crisis exacerbated by the drive to find fulfillment out of what is temporary, but more the inability to find the permanence of the eternal nature of compassion, sacrifice, and humility.  The great paradox of our faith is when we offer the only commodity that we cannot gain more of, time and presence, when we give it away, we begin to find a glimmer of eternity. 

John+

[1] M., Nouwen Henri J. The Wounded Healer. Doubleday (An Image Book), 1972

Questions for Self Reflection: Consider writing out some of your goals in life. Examine those goals and see if they aline with your values after reading this reflection.

Daily Challenge: Give away time and presence today. What does that mean to you?

We Plan, God Laughs - January 29

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23); Gen. 18:1-16; Heb. 10:26-39; John 6:16-27

Today’s Reflection

The Lord said to Abraham, ‘Why did Sarah laugh, and say, “Shall I indeed bear a child, now that I am old?” Is anything too wonderful for the Lord? At the set time I will return to you, in due season, and Sarah shall have a son.’ But Sarah denied, saying, ‘I did not laugh’; for she was afraid. He said, ‘Oh yes, you did laugh.’ –Genesis 18: 13-15

The Genesis passage appointed for today has so many layers of intrigue. First, these three mysterious figures wander onto the scene, under the oaks of Mamre. Abraham rushes around to show them hospitality—a place to cool off under the shade of the oak tree, water to wash their feet, and a meal to satisfy their hunger. Some Bible commentaries mention that these three may even have been angels. At minimum they do play an angelic role, that of messengers, in the story, as one of them foretells that Sarah will bear a son.

What I have always identified with in this passage, though, is the part when Sarah overhears the men’s conversation with Abraham and actually laughs out loud when she hears one of them declare that she will have a son. God overhears her laugh, and asks why she laughed and, by extension, why she didn’t believe that God would do this wonderful thing for her and Abraham. What follows is an awkwardly funny moment when Sarah then denies that she laughed, and God says, “Oh yes, you did!” It’s funny to me because well, duh, of course God heard you laugh, Sarah—God sees and hears and knows all things!

But I also love the relatability of this scene—of a very real, flawed human being, Sarah, who has gone through her share of disappointments and hard times and who has made her own mistakes (see my reflection on Sarah and Hagar from Wednesday of this week). She’s spent her whole life hoping and praying for a blessing, in her case, a child—and now that she’s past the point when it’s biologically possible, now some stranger is telling her she’s going to bear a child within the next year? Laughable! And yet, that’s exactly what God has in store for Sarah and Abraham—a long-awaited son, the fulfillment of their hopes and dreams, just when she believed it was too late for her to have this happy blessing of love and new life.

You may have heard the line “If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans,” which is attributed to writer-director Woody Allen. The source of this wisdom, prior to Allen’s version, is a Yiddish proverb: “We plan, God laughs.” The idea is that we humans are often very near-sighted, only being able to see what is right there in front of us—and, related to this, we are very limited sometimes in what we can believe or imagine is possible. But the moral of the story that I draw from Sarah’s laughing at God’s plans (rather than God laughing at her plans) is that we humans often underestimate what is possible. But recall that elsewhere in Scripture, we clearly hear Jesus himself say that “with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26).

I can look back on my life and see times where I’ve been too cautious in what good I believed God was capable of working in my life and the lives of those I love. But, of course, nothing is impossible with God. As Paul also declared in 1 Corinthians 2 (alluding to words from Isaiah), “no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him.”

Becky+

Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. Amen.  (Ephesians 3:20,21)

Questions for Self-Reflection

Have you ever had what, at the time, seemed like an impossible hope or dream that later came to fruition? Did you begin to lose hope or lose sight of your dream? How did you respond when you learned that your dream might just come true after all?

Daily Challenge

Write a letter to God, which is another way of praying to God. Express to God some deeply held hope or dream that you have for your future. Ask God to give you the faith to believe that it could become a reality, and to give you the gifts of patience, perseverance, and discernment as you continue to wait for the time when the dream can be realized.

When the miracle ends – January 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Gen. 17:15-27; Heb. 10:11-25; John 6:1-15

This week, our six-year-old was playing a video game. The timer was set. Thirty minutes passed and the beeping began. He was indignant that the timer was wrong, that his time was not over. He wanted to stay in the fun of the game. He vented his frustration to Sam, “Time is a mean thing that goes really quick.”

In today’s reading from John 6, we read of Jesus’ miraculous feeding of the five thousand people by the Sea of Galilee. When the feast upon bread and fish is over, Jesus’ disciples pick up the leftovers, filling twelve baskets. The people begin putting the prophesies of old and the practices of Jesus together and whisper to one another, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.” When Jesus gets word of the connections coming together, knowing that the people will want to make him their royal leader, he retreats in solace to the mountain so that the commotion dies down.

What a tender time between the joy of the big picnic and the reality of what comes next. It is akin to the exhilaration of a jubilant weekend retreat, only to return home to heavy burdens. Time is a mean thing that goes really quick, isn’t it?

So, let us revel in the joyous moments, allowing God’s grace to fill us up and seeing that God is with us in those spaces of feeding. And when we face the hard stuff ahead – when we are no longer pleasing those around us, or speaking a hard truth, or being vulnerable about a reality in front of us – we know that God is with us in those moments, too. 

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What leisure activities take you into a time warp, where the moments fly by?  What do you wish you had more time to do?

Daily Challenge

Set a timer for 30 minutes to do something that feeds your soul. Think about how Jesus is feeding you in this time of respite.

Humility as the Way of Life - January 27

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 8, 84; Gen. 16:15-17:14; Heb. 10:1-10; John 5:30-47

I came across an ancient Indian legend this past week in my reading. 

Four royal sons were questioning what specialty they should master. They said to one another, "Let us search the earth and learn a special science." So they decided, and after they had agreed on a place where they would meet again, the four brothers started off, each in a different direction. Time went by, and the brothers met again at the appropriate meeting place, and they asked one another what they had learned. "I have mastered a science," said the first, "which makes it possible for me, if I have nothing but a piece of bone of some creature, to create straightway the flesh that goes with it." "I," said the second, "know how to grow that creature's skin and hair if there is flesh on its bones." The third said, "I am able to create its limbs if I have the flesh, the skin, and the hair." "And I," concluded the fourth, "know how to give life to that creature if its form is complete with limbs." 

Thereupon the four brothers went into the jungle to find a piece of bone so that they could demonstrate their specialties. As fate would have it, the bone they found was a lion's, but they did not know that and picked up the bone.

The story unfolds, and each performed his science, and the lion sprung to life, shook its mane and devoured them all, and vanished contentedly into the jungle.[1]

Henri Nouwen shares this story as the “predicament of humanity in our modern age.”  Nouwen claims that contemporary people realize their own potential for self-destruction.  He is slightly more generous than I am inclined to be as awareness is a very hopeful attribute in our story. 

The New Testament Epistle that shows up more than any other in our Sunday lectionary is the Kenosis hymn from Philippians, an ancient hymn that Paul uses as an example of Christ emptying himself, a model he implores us to follow.  Paul is offering a vision of humility as the way of life. 

The author of John’s Gospel offers us a similar vision in today’s reading when he quotes Jesus saying, “I can do nothing on my own” as a reference that even Jesus is calling upon his source of love and power, his relationship with the Father.  Jesus really is the ultimate image of humility.  He abandons his power on the cross by being obedient and taking on the form of humanity.  This is what God elevates and holds up as our model for life. 

Humility.  In all the advances we are to discover in life, technological that can save life, machines that can show us new meaning and connection, modes of travel that bring us closer to each other, our Christian identity reminds us that the true meaning of life is found in humility.

It might be wise to remember, that (we) can do nothing on (our) own.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What are times when your Ego has gotten you in trouble?  How have others helped you accomplish something that you have largely received credit for? 

Daily Challenge:   If intrigued to learn more, here is an article about “Infusing your Company Culture with Humility”

[1] *Nouwen sourced this tale from Tales of Ancient India, translated from the Sanskrit by J.A.B. van Buitenen (New York: Bantam Books, 1961), pp. 50-51.

The God Who Sees - January 26

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; Gen. 16:1-14; Heb. 9:15-28; John 5:19-29

Today’s Reflection

            It’s difficult to imagine a more complicated, challenging situation than the one we read of today in Genesis 16. So many layers of emotional entanglement and interpersonal angst! Sarai and Abram have been struggling with infertility. Sarai finally gives up on bearing a child with Abram herself, so she gives her servant Hagar to Abram so that there will be some chance of Abram having biological descendants to carry on his family line. And if all that were not morally and ethically challenging enough, then when Hagar finds that she is, in fact, carrying Abram’s child, and dares to look at Sarai with a look of contempt, Sarai can’t deal with the show of disrespect. And one can imagine that Sarai felt, perhaps, some jealousy that she wasn’t the one carrying the child she and Abram had long been hoping for—though little did Sarai know that she would soon be bearing a child of her own. Sarai tells Abram about the look of contempt and Abram says she’s your servant, do to her as you please—empowering Sarai to mistreat Hagar and send her packing out into the wilderness.

            And so it is that we find Hagar pregnant and alone in the wilderness. Hagar didn’t ask for any of this. She wasn’t angling to have Abram’s baby; she wasn’t a willing participant in this complicated family drama. Hagar had no rights—she was seen as property in the eyes of the laws of their time and place, and part of that was that she could be forced against her will to conceive and carry a child. Imagine how utterly alone and powerless Hagar must have felt.

            When I consider how I would have felt were I in Hagar’s shoes, the word “forsaken” comes to mind. Forsaken is not a word we often use these days, but when we do it’s often used in the context of being “God forsaken.” Forsaken by itself means abandoned or deserted. One dictionary says to forsake means “to leave someone forever, especially when they need you.” So, to be God-forsaken means that you believe that God has abandoned or deserted you in your time of greatest need. And yet, we believe in a God who “will not leave you or forsake you” (Hebrews 13: 5).

            Just as Hagar is feeling truly forsaken—young, pregnant, cast out, shunned, and with no one to care for her or provide for her in her time of need—an angel appears. But this angel is bearing a message that, in some ways, does not seem like good news for Hagar: return to Sarai and submit to her. But that same angel also reveals an unexpected promise of good for the future: “I will so greatly multiply your offspring that they cannot be counted for multitude.” The angel then tells Hagar to name her son Ishmael, which means God hears because God had heard Hagar in her time of affliction—but that the son she will bear will not be someone who goes along peaceably in the world (“he will be a wild ass of a man”). So, good news, God hears you and has not abandoned you—but bad news, you need to return to Sarai and Abram’s house, and your son is going to grow up to be a kind of difficult person. Not exactly the message I would be hoping to receive if an angel visited me!

            We can each recall situations in our own lives, or the lives of those we love, that have been challenging beyond measure—often these are paths we have been forced to walk on due to selfish or short-sighted decisions made by others. This was certainly the case for Hagar. Because Sarai wasn’t trusting fully in God and decided to take the situation into her own hands, Hagar is the one who ended up paying the price. And yet, in this moment of revelation in the wilderness, when the angel’s news only brought more layers of challenge, Hagar was able to keep believing in a God who did not abandon her or Ishmael, the son she would bear: “So she named the Lord who spoke to her, ‘You are El-roi’; for she said, ‘Have I really seen God and remained alive after seeing him?’”

            Hagar named God (which is kind of amazing in itself)—and she named him El-roi, “the God who sees me.” No matter how far into the wilderness Hagar fled, no matter how isolated or forsaken she felt, Hagar was never beyond God’s sight—and neither are we. I am grateful to believe in a God who will never leave or forsake me—to know that I am always seen, and loved, by God.

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What moments in life left you feeling, even if for a short time, abandoned or forsaken by God? Who or what helped bring you out of this wilderness of forsakenness and back into knowing that you are loved and seen by God?

Daily Challenge

What poems, songs, blessings, or other creative works have served as voices of encouragement during those times when you have felt most forsaken and alone in life? I’ve found the poems and blessings written by Jan Richardson to be encouraging—here’s one, called “Blessing on the Waves,” that may be uplifting to you this day. I also recommend Jan Richardson’s whole book of blessing-poems, The Cure for Sorrow.

Holy Makeover! – January 25

Today’s Readings: Conversion of St. Paul: AM Psalm 19; Isaiah 45:18-25; Philippians 3:4b-11; PM Psalm 119:89-112; Ecclesiasticus 39:1-10; Acts 9:1-22

The conversion of St. Paul is fascinating to me. This firebrand – first named Saul – was actively persecuting the people following Jesus, the people of the Way. Saul was trying to ferret out and crush the anonymity of these men and women, to capture and hand them over to the Jewish authorities in Jerusalem. Saul was a self-righteous, legalistic zealot. We read of his own testimony in Philippians 3 this morning, and a third-person account in Acts 9. While on the road, approaching Damascus, a light from heaven flashed brightly where he was standing. Saul fell to the ground. He was instantly blinded. He heard a voice: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” (Acts 9:4-6) The people traveling with Saul also heard the voice, but not the speaker of the message. They had to help him up and guided him to their destination.

The divine intersection on this dusty road changed Saul’s life; his faith was clarified and his future began to become more clear. He met Ananias who God sent to be with Saul as his sight was restored. Laying hands on Saul, he said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 9:17) The blindness fell away immediately. He was baptized, had some food, and then began telling others of Jesus” “He is the Son of God.” People rubbed their eyes in confusion, seeing the persecutor shift to the proclaimer. What a holy makeover!

We all have a different story about how we have come to where we are at this moment in faithfulness. Some may feel that Jesus is holding their hand right now. Others have had meaningful prayer time or a tingly warmth during an experience many years ago. There are those who wonder if they have ever sensed the presence of God. My process of coming to know, believe, and follow Jesus was not dramatic (or traumatic). It was a slow process, inch by inch and row by row. Incremental. Patient. Definitely not the compelling story of Saul’s conversion to the apostle Paul. And yet, like Paul, our processes of saying yes to God continue daily.

How will you say yes to God and listen for Jesus in your life today? And who will you tell?

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

 What does conversion mean for you?

Who has shared a story of their own conversion or awakening with you? How do you talk about your own awakening of faith?

Daily Challenge

Write down what you know about your baptism, whether from family records or your own memory. Then, think of other times in your life when you have felt renewed or as if you've been given a fresh start. Reflect on where God was then and where you see Jesus now as you think back on those threshold moments.

Hindsight is 20/20 - January 24

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Gen. 14:(1-7)8-24; Heb. 8:1-13; John 4:43-54

There is a common statement that our Scriptures reflect: “Hindsight is 20/20.”  It is a statement that implies that we look back, we often wish we had known what we know now.  Maybe we would have done things differently.  Maybe offered up other words, spent more time with a person, or taken a greater risk.  But few of us truly know what the future will bring.

In Today’s Gospel, Jesus returns to Cana where the famous wedding miracle had taken place.  He encounters a man whose son is ill in another town.  He begs Jesus to heal him, and the author John implies that the man believes in Jesus’s power.  When he returns to Capernaum, he meets those carrying for his son and he finds out that at the moment when he had asked Jesus to heal him, the boy began to recover.  The man’s household is amazed, and now knowing more of the story, they too believe in the power of Jesus. 

This exposes a fundamental truth about our existence.  We cannot be certain that we always see the full picture.  Something happens in life and at some point, it becomes clearer about the why, or we see God’s work when more time has passed.  One might even use the imagery of a good book or movie where at the very end everything seems to make sense but when we are in the middle, there are a bunch of questions.   

The story that we are living is not yet finished.  Life will always be full of both joys and disappointments, but faith is knowing that God is a part of it (and it may take time and some hindsight to see it).  Wherever you are on your journey, I trust that God is leading and guiding you and if you ever need help looking back, know that your clergy are more than willing to listen and reflect.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What are some of your stories where hindsight has helped you gain a better understanding of the experience?  Where have you seen God working, days, months, or even years later?

Daily Challenge:  Journals are a wonderful way to look back and reflect.  Consider spending ten minutes a day journaling.  Here is a link to some reasonably priced journals!

Family stories – January 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35, Gen. 11:27-12:8; Heb. 7:1-17; John 4:16-26

This week, a manila envelope arrived at our house, addressed to Sam. It was heavier than a normal letter. He opened it and found a surprise inside: a stack of photos of his biological dad’s family, the genealogy of his father that went back four or more generations, and a letter. Sam leafed through photos he had never seen before, of his grandfather, also named Sam, his great-grandmother Opal, among others. The note from the sender – Sam’s half-brother’s mother Trish – indicated she wanted Josephine and Robinson to know more about their dad’s family – in name and image.

As some background, Sam’s parents divorced when he was really young; his mom married again and his stepdad adopted Sam when he was in elementary school, changing his last name to Harper. Sam grew up without contact with his paternal family and only learned of them in his mid-30s. It was at that time that he met his “bio-dad”, two half-siblings, cousins, and others in the Henson family. Over the years, the divide of earlier life has healed and family connections have deepened. Our kids know Sam’s (half) brother as Uncle Greg. They have cousins they admire and look forward to gathering again soon.

In Genesis 11, we read of a family tree. Terah was the father of Abram, Nahor, and Haran. Haran’s son was Lot. Haran died while Lot was young, and so often Lot would go with his uncle Abram. Abram married Sarai. Nahor married Milcah. Terah took them on a family journey from Ur of the Chaldeans toward the land of Canaan, but stopped before they got there, settling in Haran. God spoke to Abram and told him to keep moving to a land ahead, “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (Genesis 12:2-3) The story of the descendants of Terah has been retold thousands of times.

As the oak trees have roots that connect them to the soil, we humans have roots within our relationships and the stories of our uncles, grandmothers, and those we love. We are tangled together in beauty and complexity. We share tales and nourish one another. We lean on our sister’s shoulder on a hard day. We laugh with our brother sharing stories of parenting challenges. We travel together to our homeland, retelling the stories of our heritage. We are driven and directed by the breath of God, whispering to us the promise that is in store. Abram was faithful and followed God’s urging. May his memory be a blessing to you today.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What do you know of your family tree? Where do you feel curious to know more? What are you glad to know, and with what aspects do you wrestle?

Daily Challenge

Sit with the notion of naming descendants. Spend five minutes, reflecting on those who have honed your spiritual upbringing. Write down a spiritual genealogy of those who have influenced you. Sit in prayer, giving thanks to God for those who have come before you and guided you. Pray for God to use you as a guide for others who come after you, as well.

Bricks and Other Innovative Technologies - January 20

Today’ Readings: AM Psalm 37:1-18; PM Psalm 37:19-42; Gen. 11:1-9; Heb. 6:13-20; John 4:1-15

It’s easy to read the story in Genesis as a commentary on human language.  If humanity comes from one place, there must be some explanation for the diversity in human language.  I think it’s risky to assume that humanity comes from one place (I believe the Bible explains the truth of why and not how), and if that is the case, then the story of the tower of Babel must have another purpose as well. 

What if the story is about technology instead?  Consider this: the Israelites figure out how to make bricks.  That is as impressive an innovation as everything else.  And their technological innovation has them thinking they are as wonderful as God.  It’s why they build a tower to the heavens.  

There is a part of me that believes in the human spirit of innovation to solve the problems of the world.  I love technology, the latest and newest gadget, or innovation to improve our lives.  Think of what we have seen the past few years – a vaccine developed at record speed, self driving cars, virtual reality introduced into medicine improve surgeries and healthcare, and much much more.  We humans are pretty incredible 

When you read the story of the Tower of Babel, it’s hard not to think that God’s people weren’t pretty impressed with themselves.  They learned how to make bricks – something we still use today!  The question this story poses for us is what is the risk of not depending on God? 

One thought could be about how prayer is a practice of placing dependency on God.  Is it possible that our prayers are necessary for our own wellbeing?   How are you praying today?

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How does prayer shape your life?  What are your daily prayer practices?  Do they impact your own wellbeing?

Daily Challenge:  Think of three things that would be impossible for you without God.  Write them down or share with a friend. 

Beautiful Things - January 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48;Gen. 9:18-29; Heb. 6:1-12; John 3:22-36

Today’s Reflection

“Ground that drinks up the rain falling on it repeatedly, and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is cultivated, receives a blessing from God. But if it produces thorns and thistles, it is worthless and on the verge of being cursed; its end is to be burned over. Even though we speak in this way, beloved, we are confident of better things in your case, things that belong to salvation. For God is not unjust; he will not overlook your work and the love that you showed for his sake in serving the saints, as you still do.” –Hebrews 6: 7-10

During my last year at Seminary of the Southwest, I chose to do my field placement in what was considered a non-traditional context, the Episcopal Student Center at the University of Texas at Austin. I wanted to serve and learn at the ESC for a few reasons, one was that after a year of driving 45 minutes each way to a traditional parish in Wimberley, on the edge of the Hill Country, I was ready to serve someplace closer to home. And home, for us who lived on campus at SSW, was the University District. The street we lived on was a cut-through for students and professors who walked and rode their bikes to and from UT. We could hear every word from the PA system at Darrell Royal Stadium on football game days, every blast of canons or whatever it was they fired off when the Longhorns scored. All restaurants and stores in the area were both staffed by students and filled by them as customers. This was our neighborhood, not to mention all its keep-Austin-weirdness.

The other reason I chose to serve at the ESC was that I really missed being around college students, who were the main people I spent time with for the 12 years I worked as a professor prior to discerning a call to priesthood. I missed the energy, curiosity, and openness of college students, and was thrilled to have the chance to learn about ministry through worshipping and being in community with them that year.

We worshipped together on Sunday evenings in the Nave of All Saints Austin, the parish with whom they shared a campus, then shared a dinner together afterwards in the ESC common area. Worship was a beautiful blend of old and new: the jewel-tones of the stained glass illuminated by the setting sun, the very traditional worship space (including what was once an east-facing altar), chasubles worn by the priest, and even a thurible with a thick cloud of incense on special occasions came together with a mix of 18- to 30-year-olds (mainly undergrads with several grad students mixed in), and a group of musicians leading us in what were mainly the songs common to Camp Capers and Camp Allen (the camps of the Diocese of West Texas and Texas, where a number of our ESC people camped or worked in the summers).

A song that we often included in our Sunday evening Eucharists was “Beautiful Things” by Gungor. Oftentimes, this was used as the gradual hymn, or the song we sang as we processed out the Gospel. I had never heard this song before, but it quickly became one of my most beloved songs. The following summer, when I moved on to my curacy in College Station, I invited some of the UT ESC students to be part of my priest ordination service, and one of the songs I asked them to play during Communion was “Beautiful Things.”

All this pain
I wonder if I'll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change, at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come out from this ground, at all?

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around,
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found, in you

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

(Lisa and Michael Gungor, Beautiful Things lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Capitol CMG Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 2010)

This song expresses in so many ways so much of what I believe about the transformative power of Christ’s love in our lives, both individually and together. As one of the songwriters, Michael Gungor, shared in an interview: “During the time of 'Beautiful Things' I was reading a lot of N T Wright and different theologians who have opened up my view of God and the world and his story. … Having the story opened up, realising this is GOD’s story, he's the creator of all things and we’re invited into this process of recreating that started with the empty tomb—that has been very inspiring.”

A verse included in our lectionary readings for today, Hebrews 6:7, calls to mind similar imagery of life rising up out of the dust, beginning to flourish and grow as God intended: “Ground that drinks up the rain falling on it repeatedly, and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is cultivated, receives a blessing from God.” It seemed apt to be singing this song together with these faithful UT students, who were in this especially intense period of developing and growing into the people God had made them to be. But then, we are all still always growing up into the beautiful things God has created us to be.

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Listen to or read the lyrics of “Beautiful Things.” What memories or images does the song evoke for you? How does this song together with the Hebrews passage for today help you see where and how Christ’s love has transformed and is transforming your life?

Daily Challenge

Watch and listen as Lisa and Michael Gungor sing “Beautiful Things” here.

You can read the full interview with Michael Gungor here.

Did Jesus really say that? -- January 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 26, 28; PM Psalm 36, 39; Gen. 9:1-17; Heb. 5:7-14; John 3:16-21

John 3:16 was the first piece of scripture I memorized. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

It was a part of the curriculum for Vacation Bible School that summer. In my hometown, the Episcopal churches would get together and host VBS in a combined fashion. I remember the excitement of being in a new place for a special gathering with different people. I can still remember walking up the sidewalk toward the door at Holy Comforter in Montgomery, unsure of who would be there and what we would do, while also knowing that it was a safe, fun, and good time ahead. There was music, new friends to be made, and snacks – generally in the form of graham crackers and apple juice. My mom would usually volunteer, too, so my sisters and I would hang around after most people left, exploring nooks and crannies in the church while Mom finished what she was doing.

Though I know these words so well, I read two notes on this piece of scripture that grabbed me. One was in the Bible browser through which we share links of scripture. There was an asterisk at the end of John 3:21, linked to a note that said “some interpreters hold that the quotation concludes with verse 15”.  I pulled out my Jewish Annotated New Testament to read more about this detail. Adele Reinhartz, who compiled the notes for the gospel of John in this edition, has this to say about the words from John 3:16-21, appointed for today: “Because the Greek manuscripts do not include punctuation, it is not always easy to identify the speaker in these long discourses. These verses are often attributed to the narrator rather than Jesus.”

Wow. I let this new information sink in and found myself wondering, does it matter to me who said these words? Does the statement carry less heft if Jesus was not the speaker? I do not remember if, when I memorized this verse in the mid 1980s, we attributed these lines directly to Jesus…I don’t recall saying, “Jesus said, ‘God so loved the world…’”

I re-read some of the lines that precede this piece for today. The third chapter of John begins with Jesus talking with a Pharisee named Nicodemus, who has some questions. He wants to understand the mysteries of God made manifest in Jesus. He has seen the miracles performed by Jesus, and says, “No one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” (3:2b) Jesus tells Nicodemus, “Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony.” (3:11)

We speak of what we know and talk to others about what we have seen. That is how the Good News is shared. We pass along the light of Christ to others. We teach kids at Vacation Bible School. We sit with someone as they await test results. We drop off a bowl of soup for a family who is sick. Our actions show what we have seen and we speak of what we know…that God so loved the world. that God sent Jesus the Son to bring eternal life to all. To turn our hearts toward God, toward belief, toward the light of redemption and reconciliation. Into a space of safety and care for all time.

Whether Jesus spoke those words of observation or if a narrator imparted them in weaving together the Good News of God in Christ, I believe that the power of the message is unchanged. They are an embodiment of the truth in Jesus’ words to Nicodemus: we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Think of a time when you went to hear a talk – perhaps a Christian Formation gathering at Saint Stephen’s. Was the specific speaker / preacher / presenter more meaningful to you, or was it the topic that drew you in?

How do you respond to John 3:16 hearing Jesus say those words? How do you hear them when a narrator shares them? What changes? What is the same for you?

Daily Challenge

Listen for your own biases over the next few days. What do you notice? Are you more drawn to the voices and perspectives of people like you? Different than you? People who have positions of influence? Or those who have first-hand experience?

Intentions of the Heart - January 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 20, 21:1-7(8-14); PM Psalm 110:1-5(6-7), 116, 117; Gen. 6:9-22; Heb. 4:1-13; John 2:13-22

Today’s Reflection

Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before him no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.  –Hebrews 4: 12-13

Yesterday, our Romans Bible Study group was trying to wrap our brains and hearts around understanding Romans 7: 13-25. It’s not one of the lectionary passages for today, but it connects with the above verses from Hebrews, which are appointed for today. In these verses from Romans 7, which even the New Testament scholar N.T. Wright sees as “convoluted,” Paul is wrestling with the dilemma of believing what we should do and how we should conduct our lives, but then the tension with how we end up saying or doing things that are in conflict with how we believe God would have us to be. One Bible where I looked at this Romans passage gives it this title: “The Inner Conflict”:

For we know that the law is spiritual; but I am of the flesh, sold into slavery under sin. I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!  —Romans 7: 14-25

Our group’s discussion of these verses was wide ranging, but one of the themes was intentionality. When a person intends to do something sinful—something that hurts God, another person, or even themselves—is that worse than when someone unintentionally hurts God, someone else, or themselves? Or, looking at it from another vantage point: If we don’t intend to hurt someone, but unknowingly or accidentally do so, is that considered to be sinful?

I don’t know that we were able to answer these questions around sin and intentionality with any more clarity than any of the many theologians who have wrestled with this over the centuries. But one member brought up a conceptual framework that may be helpful in reminding ourselves of what we know about our own intentions and what others can know about them, looking in from the outside. The Johari window is a framework from the field of psychology that is also widely used in other fields of thought, including interpersonal communication. The window has four panes, or quadrants: 1) the open area is that which is known to both ourselves and to others; 2) the blind spot is that which we do not see ourselves but that others observe about us; 3) the hidden area is that which we know about or see in ourselves but is unknown to others; and 4) the unknown is that which neither we nor others are aware of about ourselves.

This framework can help us gain insight into intentionality in that “the hidden area” of what we know about ourselves, including our intentions, may seem very clear to us and yet can remain unknown to everyone else out there. Or, depending how well people know you, some people may be clear about your purposes but those same purposes may be unknown or obscured to people who do not know you as well.

So, while it may be clear to ourselves (as Paul writes in Romans 7) that “I delight in the law of God in my inmost self,” what is in our inmost selves isn’t always readily apparent to others. All others can know about us is what we put our there into the universe for them to know—through what we say (and don’t say) and through what we do (and don’t do). However, what I find comfort in through our Hebrews 4 passage for today is this: God knows “the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” All is “laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.”

While it is often important to make sure our purposes are clear to our fellow human beings, what is most important, ultimately, is that we know that God (who knows all our thoughts and the intentions of our hearts) loves us, cares for us, and is patient with us. As the great character Anne Shirley (from Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables books) once said, “Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?" Thanks be to God!

Becky+

Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy Name; through Christ our Lord. Amen.  (Collect for Purity, Book of Common Prayer, p. 355)

Questions for Self-Reflection

Reflect on a time when you what you intended in your words or actions did not come through clearly to others. How did this misunderstanding of intentions impact your relationship? Were you able to clarify your intentions? What did you learn from the misunderstanding that helped you moving forward?

Retelling the Wonder of Jesus - January 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 22; Gen. 6:1-8; Heb. 3:12-19; John 2:1-12

There is an organization I learned of during seminary called Invite Welcome Connect. The warm and engaging Mary Parmer began this ministry within the Episcopal Church, equipping parishes and their parishioners to “cultivate intentional practices of evangelism, hospitality, and belonging”.

As I think about what this looks like, I believe that it is so important for faith communities to look at how they tell the story of Jesus through the eyes of their church. After that bellybutton gazing of the “how”, we then get challenged to take that message out to others, re-telling stories of when and where God has moved them, inviting others to join and share their own stories of wonder in the love of Jesus. Mutual sharing and meaningful connection in Christ. That is the Good News.

My kids have taught me a good bit about the wonder of stories. Separately, they each have told me the story of Jesus at the wedding in Cana of Galilee. It warms my heart to hear the energy that a 10 year old and 6 year old bring into this ancient story, and I am fascinated by the details they cling to. In this present moment, I also yearn to roll back the tapes of time and re-listen to their experiences in this story of surprise – where Jesus takes vats of water and changes them to wine – good, rich wine. Perhaps there is a young person in your life who has taught you a story of Jesus’ ministry, and in listening, you felt the heartening connection of God’s love.

Perhaps as we share stories of the Good News, we share giggles. My latest favorite is a meme relating the wonder of the wedding in Cana.

Jesus is reflecting on his ministry and is telling his friends about a recent experience and says, “You know, the wedding in Cana was a very emotional experience.”

One of the members of Jesus’ captive audience says, “Really?”

Jesus responds, “Yes, even the cake was in tiers.”

Silence.

Jesus emphasizes, “The cake was in tiers, Peter.”

An exasperated Peter says, “Stop talking to me, Jesus.”

The above depiction is not the same version of the story we read in John 2:1-12. It is silly news – and falls fully into the bucket of Dad Jokes, that are all the rage in my house these days. These kinds of puns have a surprise to make sure we are paying attention. They may not be deep, and sometimes they are a little cheap or cheesy, but they serve a purpose in bringing the audience to awareness, breaking the bonds of tension or distraction.

In sharing the wonderous stories of Jesus’ life and ministry, there are always surprises. Who knew that Jesus would go to a wedding and be called to summon unknown powers to fix someone else’s problem of running out of wine too early? When his mom told him to help out, Jesus had the servants empty and re-fill the six stone water jars normally used for handwashing. When the chief steward took a taste, it was a different sensation than expected. The punchline was different. There was no groaning. It was good wine. Really good wine.

Jesus did this, we are told by John, revealing his glory. Revealing a glimpse of his true self – mystical and surprising. And in that action, that revelation, the disciples of Jesus believed in him.

John tells this story one way. My kids tell it their ways. A silly meme frames Jesus giving his own perspective. How do you tell stories of the wonder of Jesus? Keep sharing those stories, as they serve as connection points. The Good News of Jesus, who lived, died, and rose again, keeps us tethered to hope and full hearts. The Good News of Jesus keeps inviting us, welcoming us, connecting us. We are called to pass it on. 

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you retold a story differently than someone else who was there at the same time?

What stories of the Bible do you love to retell? Which ones did you love to hear told to you?

Daily Challenge

Read more about Invite Welcome Connect. Invite someone to come to church. Or, if there is someone at church who is unknown to you, introduce yourself. If you are not connected yet with a ministry or group at Saint Stephen's, contact Amy Passey or the clergy -- we will help you find a meaningful point of connection!

Follow Me - January 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 18:1-20; PM Psalm 18:21-50; Gen. 4:17-26; Heb. 3:1-11; John 1:43-51

In my office is a large piece of paper with a house drawn on it.  There are four pillars that hold up a roof and a large base underneath.  This house is filled with words, specifically the many ministries of Saint Stephen’s.  The pillars are Formation, Outreach, Care of Creation, and Pastoral Care and the base is Administration.  All of these hold up Worship with the worship ministries being supported by everything else. 

The picture is a tool that helps our Vestry understand the mission and ministry of Saint Stephen’s.  It gives us a vision to live into that defines the values of our congregation and helps us organize the scope and trajectory of our church.  It also places worship at the core where everything in our church supports worship.  Worship is where most people engage with Saint Stephen’s.  It is by far the most widely attended activity at the church, what people search for, and where they are nourished by word and sacrament.  One could make the argument that it is the most important practice we do. 

But I was reminded of an old meme when I read the Gospel appointed for today.  In John’s Gospel, before the action of the Gospel takes place, before we witness signs that point us to who Jesus is, Jesus ventures off to Galilee.  When he meets Philip, he clearly says “Follow me.”  It’s the most important words that Philip will ever hear, instructions that will change his life forever.  And then Philip finds Nathanael and invites him to come and meet Jesus too.  The meme I was reminded of stated, “Jesus never told us to worship him. He instructed us to follow him.” 

That quote struck me today.  I love worship, and most of the time worship nourishes my soul and I believe gives me the strength to live into who God has called me to be, but the author is making a point that sometimes we confuse the two. Is it possible that sometimes we think worshiping Jesus is more important than following Jesus?

Jesus invited Philip to follow him.  And he invites us to do the same.  Our worship should always be the fuel for the journey, a practice that grounds us in how we live out our faith, that points us in the way of following Jesus.  How might you follow Jesus more nearly this day?

John+

Questions for Reflection:  What are ways that you follow Jesus?  How often do you think about these practices or values?  How do they shape your life?  Are there times when worship has helped you to follow Jesus?  What about becoming an impediment?

Daily Challenge:  As you are finishing answering your questions, try to pick one thing you can do to follow Jesus that is different from prayer and worship.  Do it today!

Sweetness Follows - January 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14; Gen. 4:1-16; Heb. 2:11-18; John 1:(29-34)35-42

Today’s Reflection

If you’ve never yet read anything by Sarah Condon, one of the hosts of the Mockingbird podcast and a regular contributor the Mockingbird blog and magazine, I highly recommend her writing. She’s an Episcopal priest out in the Diocese of Texas, presently serving as the campus missioner to Rice University. She once came to give a talk on personal spiritual practices, or rule of life, to my curate cohort at Camp Allen, and I found that her approach to connecting with God in prayer really resonated with me.

So, the other day, when a friend and colleague sent me a link to her most recent article, “A Light Year,” I knew I wanted to read on. Written as we transition from 2021 into 2022, Condon in this essay is making the point that just as much as we celebrate all of the hope and potential for good things ahead in the new year, just as much we need to be sure to honor everything that we went through in 2021 and how that has contributed to who each of us is as we look toward the year to come:

I do wonder if anyone is still making a New Year’s Resolution. Like an actual one, about weight, or money, or reading the Bible more. Doesn’t it feel like just living is enough right now? Between the news cycle and how everyone you know has Covid, isn’t it incredible that you are still here? You have made it through so much. You, the old you, the you who made it through 2021. Why would we ever need a newer version of the person who bravely faced so much pain? I rather like the 2021 you. And me. And I know God is in love with the old us. Absolutely head over heels. So here’s to that 2021 person.

Condon goes on to acknowledge a number of hard things and life transitions a person may have gone through in 2021, addressing what “you” did in the second person in a way that, if you happen to identify with one of the life events in the list, makes you feel like maybe she has been a fly on the wall in your life.

You survived the Christmas of 2021. … You got married this year… You got divorced this year. … You have run a church in the second year of a global pandemic…. You got a new job… You got diagnosed with cancer right before Easter. … Your parents both died in a car accident at the end of 2020. … Your [loved one] died of COVID.

Those who are familiar with Condon and her life story from her podcast and writing will recognize that at least one of items in this litany is something she personally experienced: the unexpected loss of her parents in a car accident a year ago. She has talked very openly about this loss as she has grieved for them and remembered them over this past year. Losing her parents, with whom she was especially close, made 2021 an even more challenging year, amidst all else. And maybe you can identify with some of other hard things in Condon’s litany—I know at least a couple have special resonance for me.

As I re-read Condon’s reflections on the losses and hardships we have suffered in 2021, I see a connection with today’s reading from Hebrews 2: For it is clear that he did not come to help angels, but the descendants of Abraham. Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.  –Hebrews 2: 16-18

In these verses, we are reminded of why God needed to be incarnate as Jesus. By living and dying as one of us, Jesus, too, was wounded. Jesus shared in our sufferings. And did this to help us—he didn’t come to help the angels (otherwise he would have become an angel). No, Jesus came to help us—that’s why, for a time, he lived and suffered as one of us. Because Jesus lived a human life in which he, too, was tested as we are, he is able to help us when we are being tested by trials and temptations of many kinds.

But, in the end, as we look back on all that we have gone through in 2021 and, indeed, over the course of our whole lives so far, we can hold onto hopefulness and a sense that, through it all, we are loved. A song that I listened to earlier this week also resonates with this theme that we will go through very hard things, but we also find, in the aftermath, that goodness remains. REM’s song “Sweetness Follows” (from Automatic for the People, 1992) begins with referencing a loss a lot like Condon’s:

Readying to bury your father and your mother
What did you think when you lost another?
I used to wonder, why did you bother?
Distanced from one, blind to the other

Musically and lyrically, it’s a rich song that I can’t do total justice to here (so you can listen to them play it at Glastonbury here). Much of what makes it a beautiful song is the way in which the bitter is blended with the sweet. We go through hard things. We suffer in ways in which, at the time, we are not sure how we will recover or things will ever better than they are in the difficult moment. But, in the end, we can look back on all that we have suffered and journeyed through with a sense of hope.

It's these little things, they can pull you under
Live your life filled with joy and thunder
Yeah, yeah we were altogether
Lost in our little lives
Oh, but sweetness follows
Oh, but sweetness follows

­Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What did you go through in 2021 that seemed like it might “pull you under”? Looking back on it all, where do you see the “sweetness [that] follows”?

Daily Challenge

You can read Condon’s whole essay here. Or you can listen to the full REM song “Sweetness Follows” here.