Easter merriment - April 20

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 97, 99; PM Psalm 115, Exod. 12:40-51; 1 Cor. 15:(29)30-41; Matt. 28:1-16

Walking down the hallway of Saint Stephen’s last night on the way to the April vestry meeting, I saw narrow, colorful crinkles of paper in hues of green, blue, and brown on the floor. They were strewn about, but the line of Easter joy could be traced back to the Gathering Space, the wide open area where a lovely reception was held following the Great Vigil of Easter on Saturday night. Tables had been adorned with boards of cheeses and meats, a platter of fruits, festive beverages, and a decadent spread of candies and chocolates. The sweet treats were arranged whimsically in verdant single-serving cups and arranged on beds of the colorful paper (a sustainable alternative to old school plastic Easter basket grass). What a lovely way to welcome the congregation to eat, drink, and be merry, ringing in the Easter hope - resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!

That merriment – leaving behind trails of pastel paper shards – differed from what the apostle Paul warned against. In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul was making the case that Jesus was raised from the dead; this path of following Jesus the Christ was connected to a bigger purpose of eternal life and faithfulness with God. The enemy – death – was destroyed. Jesus’ rising from the dead shattered a barrier that had been there before. He expanded the vista of his followers. As a people of resurrection, dwelling in Corinth and beyond, a new chapter of awareness dawned. Paul spelled it out: we need not stumble into bacchanalian feasts, expending it all before the end. The resurrection of Jesus was, and is, our new reality.

The language he uses is a direct reference to Isaiah 22, when the Israelites were not honoring God. The prophet issued an oracle – a vision – forecasting the destruction of Jerusalem. Rather than mourning and wearing sackcloth, the Israelite people chose ill-timed revelry of slaughtering livestock and drinking wine, chanting the justification, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” They were untethered from the order stemming from faithfulness in the Lord.

So, while people of my age may read this scripture and be carried back to memories of college jam bands – a la Dave Mathews crooning the words, “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we’ll die…” in his song “Tripping Billies” about his first encounter on the beaches of South Africa with a hallucinatory drug and the police – know that when we do celebrate, Christians need not mindlessly fill the void that death creates. The tomb is opened, the stone rolled away. Wholeness, restoration, and life in God await – and are already here. As resurrection people, we are to share that hope. We are to tell that story. And friends, perhaps we tell the story through our tears. Perhaps we proclaim the joy at a table of delectable treats. Or maybe we share the hope of Jesus through sitting with someone at the brink of life and death. It is in each of these moments that we will see Jesus the risen Lord.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What does an ideal celebration look like to you? When did a big party feel healing and restorative? What about a time that felt ill-timed or gauche?

Daily Challenge

Reflect today on what the resurrection of Jesus means to you. What is joyous? What is hard? What builds your faith? What questions remain? 

Do not be afraid! - April 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 93, 98; PM Psalm 66; Exod. 12:14-27; 1 Cor. 15:1-11; Mark 16:1-8

On that first Easter morning, the Marys and Salome are quite surprised.  I suspect more than just surprised, they are scared.   A young man in a white robe tells them that Jesus has been raised from the dead and that they should not be alarmed.  I’m guessing the man says this because of the look on their faces.  Even with this pronouncement, the women end up fleeing from the tomb with “terror and amazement seizing them”.  It is a different vision from what we experienced on Easter Sunday. Most of us expect people to leave church encouraged and hopeful, affirmed in following the way of Jesus. An angel tells the women at the tomb that their friend is very much alive, and they are scared and terrified. This is not how I expect most people to leave Church after Easter Sunday morning!

What does the promise of Easter mean for you?  Is it a promise of God’s love for eternity?  Or is it the shattering of death and hell, and the restoration of life in what has been destroyed here on earth?  Maybe it is both, but the second idea is much more vivid and powerful and calls into question our earthly systems of relationships, the brokenness we feel in our lives, and the new life we long to know.  A person completely cut off from their family that finds reconciliation, a person broken from addiction who finds life in a smokey church room on a Monday evening, a grieving parent who finds hope and vision in teaching about loss and death, a person previously incarcerated learning to not have their worst moment be their identity or defining virtue of their lives, a victim of trauma and abuse learning to be the recipient of love.  We believe in Resurrection, which means we are willing to let our systems, relationships, and assumptions be transformed and that is scary stuff!  It means the future of our lives is different than today.

But the angel reminds us, do not be afraid!  We are a church, not a place of perfect people, cute clothing, and fun games, but a place where broken people see God’s love making them whole.  Alleluia, Christ is Risen. The Lord is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: Who are the people who you struggle to have hope for?  Are there things you have done that you have a hard time forgiving yourself for or are keeping you from living a full life? 

Daily Challenge:  Spend a few minutes browsing through these pictures of the Resurrection.

The Most Beautiful, Terrible Day - April 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 95 [for the Invitatory], 22; PM Psalm 40:1-14 (15-19), 54; Lam. 3:1-9, 19-33; 1 Pet. 1:10-20; John 13:36-38 [AM]; John 19:38-42 [PM]

Today’s Reflection

But this I call to mind,
   and therefore I have hope:
 The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
   his mercies never come to an end;
 they are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.
 ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul,
   ‘therefore I will hope in him.’  —Lamentations 3: 21-24

God’s love never ceases. God’s mercies are new every morning. Therefore, we have hope. So simple and so powerful. A few other verses that we read from Lamentations, though less familiar, are equally powerful.

For the Lord will not reject for ever.

Although he causes grief, he will have compassion
according to the abundance of his steadfast love;

for he does not willingly afflict or grieve anyone. —Lamentations 3: 31-33

“Although he causes grief, he will have compassion.” There’s much to ponder in these eight words. Does God cause grief? I’m not sure I think so, but the writer of the Lamentations seemed to think so. I think it’s more that God doesn’t stop grief-causing events from happening to us and those we love. God allows us to experience life—and with life comes grief of all kinds. We grieve those who have died. We grieve missed opportunities. We grieve friendships and relationships lost. The more important question to consider, rather than getting stuck in the mire of why, is this: How does God respond to us in our grief? As we read in Lamentations 3: God will respond with compassion. And so, God sets the tone; he gives us the example of how we are to respond to those who are suffering grief of many kinds: We are to have compassion, like God, out of the abundance of our steadfast love for one another.

One of my favorite writers and podcasters, Kate Bowler, always signs off by saying, “Have a beautiful, terrible day.” She shares about how someone once asked her:

Why do you keep asking us to have a beautiful, terrible day? WHY TERRIBLE? Why not JUST beautiful?

Well. It came from the thought I kept having when I first got sick: that somehow I could see more, feel more, appreciate more of the wide spectrum of life. And it turns out that there's this perfect quote from pastor and writer, Frederick Buechner, who said: “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”

Life can be both wonderful and terrible, gorgeous and tragic. These opposites do not cancel each other out.

In theory, I love this Buechner quote—and I love that Kate Bowler is always wishing us a beautiful, terrible day. But in practice, in the moment, it is extremely hard to hold onto this truth: “Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Do not be afraid.” I feel like it’s easier to see the beauty intertwined with the terrible when we look back, with the perspective of not being right in the middle of the beautiful, terrible moment.

Good Friday is the day each year when we recall and commemorate that most beautiful and most terrible of days: the day when our Lord Jesus Christ died a brutal death by crucifixion in order to fulfill God’s plan of salvation for us all. That the Son of God died for us, and in this most violent way, is equally terrible and beautiful. On this most dark and sad day, God secured for us the promise of eternal light and forgiveness and love. No matter what terrible things we might do, no matter what terrible things might be done to us or happen to us, nothing can take away all the beauty and love God made possible for us on that most beautiful of terrible days.

Frederick Buechner was right. In our world, beautiful and terrible things will happen. And when they do, and even when we feel very afraid, God will show us compassion—which, we in turn, can share with others:

This I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

What comes to mind as the most beautiful yet terrible day you have lived so far? What made it beautiful? What made it terrible? How did you experience God being with you on this beautiful, terrible day?

Daily Challenge

Today’s reflection includes excerpts from my June 27, 2021 sermon, “Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day: God’s Mercies are New Every Morning,” which you can view through clicking on the link.

Dashed dreams – April 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 74, Lam. 2:1-9; 2 Cor. 1:23-2:11; Mark 12:1-11

Sitting with the scriptures appointed for today, I am struck by the emotional timbre in these verses – a tone of pleading, a tone of intensity, a tone of pain, a tone of disappointment. After all, we are in Holy Week, walking along the road into Jerusalem, remembering the last steps and days of Jesus’ living among us – so it makes sense that the Bible readings ring of fallen hopes and shattered dreams.

Psalm 74 is an appeal to God, asking why the Lord has “utterly cast us off?” The psalmist calls upon God to recall earlier times, the time when the Israelites became God’s own beloved people. But hardship came upon the land and enemies laid waste to the holy spaces. The psalmist inquires, “How long, O God, will the adversary scoff?...Why do you draw back your hand?” The good times long past are remembered and named – the powers of God to create, command, and correct. The psalmist aims to stir God to action, so that God’s people will see that the covenant made between Yahweh and Abraham is still holding strong. Inferring that God has shifted to a posture of recline and deep slumber, the prayer ends with these words, “Arise, O God, maintain your cause; remember how fools revile you all day long. Forget not the clamor of your adversaries, the unending tumult of those who rise up against you.”

While in Psalm 74, the people are disappointed by God, Jesus tells a story (perhaps to the scribes and Pharisees) about God being let down by people. The parable in Mark 12 speaks of the man who built a vineyard and leased it to his tenants. He sends servants to gather the portion of harvest due to him. They beat some servants, sending them away shamed. They killed others. Then, the landowner sends his son, for surely they will respect him. Verse 8 tells us differently: they seized the man’s son, killed him, and threw him out of the vineyard. Jesus asks rhetorically, “What will happen next?” He answers the question for his listeners, saying “He will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others.” Haunting words, right? It is a reminder of the wrath of God.

What do we do when our dreams are dashed, when we are tired and discouraged? The apostle Paul writes of a conflict in 2 Corinthians. He urges the people of Corinth to forgive one another and reaffirm their love for one another. In those spaces of tension and ugliness, there is also a call to slow down. Rest. Reflect. Then, respond in love, because we are loved deeply by God. Whether the days of this poignant week feel holy to you, or more like H-E-Double Hockey Sticks, know that Jesus is with us in the pain and discomfort, the disappointment and fear. May the Holy Spirit embolden and strengthen you to take one step at a time, knowing that you do not walk this path alone.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you felt disappointed by God? What did you do? Say? Feel?

What are your actions and reactions when you are disappointed by people in your life?

Daily Challenge

Take time today to journal about what Holy Week means for you. What are you looking forward to, and what are you dragging your feet about? Know that regardless of where you are emotionally and spiritually, God welcomes you into this space. Come join us for some of Holy Week at Saint Stephen's. 

Sharing with Us in our Suffering - April 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 51:1-18(19-20); PM Psalm 69:1-23; Lam. 1:1-2,6-12; 2 Cor. 1:1-7; Mark 11:12-25

I can still remember my first real reflection on pastoral care and being forced to wrestle with God’s agency in suffering.  I had been a youth minister for a few years, but much of that work was contained in the playing of games, teaching Sunday school, and dealing with the drama of middle school and high school lives.  Who liked who, or who said something mean behind someone’s back, or why Elizabeth thought I should wear more pink shirts (my office was at an all-girls Episcopal school).  Most of the conversations for the first few years were pretty surface-level stuff.

And then I received a phone call one morning, around six a.m., from the rector of our church.  “John, can you meet me at a parishioner’s home as soon as possible.   I should be there in thirty minutes.” Mark continued to share that the mother of three children in our church had suffered an aneurism in her sleep and had not woken up. 

I dressed quickly and began the drive to the other side of town, about a thirty-minute drive from my house, the entire drive wondering what I could possibly say to the children that would ease their pain and remind them of God’s love.  My mind was racing, and honestly so was my heart.  I pulled up to the house and there were already a number of cars parked outside, Mark met me at the door to lead me to children who were sitting on the back patio, the oldest two who were youth group age and very active in the church. 

I can still vividly remember sitting there across from the oldest son.  No words were shared for quite some time.  Thirty minutes must have passed, before any words were spoken, the young man speaking first, “John, I’m glad you are here.”  I still had nothing more to offer, other than to say “thank you” and sit there with him in his grief. 

Few words were shared before I left much later that morning, but my understanding of God was deeply shaped by that morning.  God, through the young man who had lost his mother, taught me, that our God is one of presence.  God showing up is bigger than answers, words, or solutions.  God is always present, often felt and experienced through our care of each other. 

This morning, I read the words of Paul to the Corinthians, still without the answers that I so desperately want around suffering.  Instead, I hear a vision of someone who suffers with others.  It is Christ who consoles us in our affliction, and we become vessels to sit with others in their affliction and yet we all share in the consolation that comes from God.  It’s about presence and being ‘with’ not fixing, taking away, or solving.

As we approach this Good Friday and live into Holy Week.  We hear of Jesus as our God that suffered on the cross.  As we walk with him into Jerusalem and to the cross, we are reminded that our lives are not without suffering, but it is the very nature of God to suffer with us and in that, we can find the source of consolation and hope.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How have you known God more deeply in moments of pain and suffering?  What was helpful for you and what was not helpful?

Daily Challenge:  The services on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday this week all deal with Christ’s death and pain.  If you are unable to attend in person, the services will be streamed online.  Make a plan to attend some of Holy Week. 

Cracked Clay Jars - April 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 95 [for the Invitatory] and 22; PM Psalm 141, 143:1-11(12)
Exod. 9:13-35; 2 Cor. 4:1-12; Mark 10:32-45

Today’s Reflection

For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake. For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. 2 Corinthians 4: 5-11

Here we are, on the cusp of Palm Sunday and soon Holy Week: Signs of new life are bursting out all around us! Birds are singing sweetly (and loudly!) in the trees. Azaleas, dogwoods, daffodils, and wisteria are blooming at every turn. Skies are brilliant blue. The bright green new leaves are bursting forth from the trees.

We appreciate the beauty of this breathtaking time of the year all the more because it follows from a wintertime with its grey skies, brown grass, and stark, leafless trees. This morning’s peaceful scene of bird songs and colorful blooms is juxtaposed with the tempestuous stormfronts that bring intense rainfall, flooded streets, downed power lines, damaged and destroyed homes, and fearful hours huddled in our indoor hallways and basement bunkers.

This Sunday, we’ll remember Jesus as he made his way into Jerusalem—at once a triumphant moment, as he rides in on a humble donkey and the crowds wave and throw down their palms to prepare the way for the Lord. People were recognizing who Jesus was and wanted to give him all glory, laud, and honor—but the flip side of recognizing who Jesus was meant the Jesus was processing toward his inevitable death on the cross. Thankfully, we know that there is an ending in which light triumphed (and continues to triumph) over darkness.

When Vincent Pizzuto, an Episcopal priest and professor from California, visited us last month at Saint Stephen’s, his first event was a clergy reflection day. One point he made that Friday morning really stuck with me, which is this: The songwriter Leonard Cohen said the cracks let the light in. But what if we look at our broken hearts in a different way, Pizzuto wondered. What if the cracks in our broken hearts actually let the light out? In other words, what if we shift our perspective to consider that when our hearts and lives are broken open, there is light inside us, whose hearts have been broken, that can then be shared with others through the cracks of that brokenness?

This comes to mind me for this morning as I reflect on today’s passage from 2 Corinthians 4 alongside my life and those parts of it that have been especially difficult and heart-breaking over the past however-many years: “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Cor. 4: 8-9). These two verses capture well a lot of what I have experienced as a person of deep faith in Christ who has also lived through some deeply challenging and heart-breaking times. God has been a consistent source of strength and protection—and yet he has allowed me, a humble jar of clay that contains the treasure of God’s abiding love, to have a few cracks here and there.

The jar of clay is not crushed, not destroyed—but it is cracked just enough to the let the light shine out so that others can experience how Christ’s light shines out of the darkness. As Paul encouraged his friends in Corinth, “Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart … we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us” (2 Cor. 4: 1, 7).

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

What challenging experiences have caused your heart to break? What are the cracks that let the light of Christ shine forth from you to offer hope and love others?

Daily Challenge

Take a walk or sit outside to be surrounded with reminders of the new life that is breaking forth in nature at every turn this spring. Reflect on how the cycle of the seasons, both in nature and in the church year, point us back to the pattern of life, death, and resurrection both in the incarnation of Jesus and in our own lives.

Glimpses behind the curtain – April 6

There is a movie we saw this year – sans kids – called “Nightmare Alley”. Director Guillermo del Toro reimagines this story that was first released in 1947 and assembles a riveting cast to live into a tale of ups and downs, set within carnival culture. Protagonist Stan (Bradley Cooper) wants to learn the craft of carnies and card tricks. He studies each act in the carnival, working his way into the community. Stan watches Pete (David Strathairn) demystify some of the mind reading act he and his wife Zeena the Seer (Toni Collette) have built. Zeena has wowed many audiences with her craft, with Pete beneath the stage giving her cues. Stan wants a piece of this psychic mystery. Aging and alcoholic Pete wrestles with his own demons, and as such, he advises Stan with words of warning:

“When a man believes his own lies, starts believing that he has the power, he’s got shut eye. Because now he believes it’s all true. And people get hurt. Good, God-fearing people. And then you lie. You lie. And when the lies end, there it is. The face of God, staring at you straight. No matter where you turn. No man can outrun God, Stan.”

The disclaimer is relevant to the arc of Stan’s journey in the story of “Nightmare Alley” and speaks truth to us who live in the carnival of 2022 – and resonates with the reading from Exodus 7:8-24 appointed for this morning.

Moses and Aaron see how that no one can outrun God. Exodus 7 grants us a behind-the-scenes glimpse of time with YHWH when the Pharaoh’s heart is hardened, unwilling to release the Israelites from bondage in Egypt. The Lord tells the brothers that Pharaoh will command them to perform a wonder. The Lord tells Moses what to say to Aaron: “Take your staff and throw it down before Pharaoh, and it will become a snake.” They followed God’s direction and it happened just as YHWH said. Pharaoh was unable to catch the brothers unaware with the carnie trick demands. Other carnies and sorcerers came to Pharaoh to do similar stunts, but Aaron’s staff-turned-snake ate each trick snake. And the Pharaoh’s heart remained unchanged and his eyes remained shut to God’s will and word.

YHWH pulled Aaron and Moses aside again and told them to collaborate to turn all the water sources to blood. They believed in God’s power and did just as the Lord commanded, in the sight of Pharaoh. The river turned red, fish died, and the waters smelled horrible. The magicians did the same by their secret arts, so Pharaoh did not believe. He kept his eyes shut to YHWH and went into his house, keeping his back turned on God and God’s people held captive.

While the company we keep with God may look a bit different than that of Moses and Aaron in the ancient Near East, our Lord still calls us to listen, to follow, to obey, and to love. I pray that our hearts may be softened to this beckoning and wisdom. May God open our eyes to see truth today.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What blind spots are you aware that you have? Which of those are problematic this week?

Daily Challenge

Journal today and reflect on having your eyes open to those spaces of "shut eye". Pray and listen for ways that bring you in deeper connection to God, yourself, and those around you. 

Missing the Big Picture - April 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; Exod. 4:10-20(21-26)27-31; 1 Cor. 14:1-19; Mark 9:30-41

The disciples are arguing about greatness after Jesus has just shared about being killed and rising again.  Jesus tells them about his death, and they are fighting about who gets to sit where.  They are like middle school kids with their minds in a totally different world than the person talking to them, missing once again the big picture.  By focusing on the end result, they have missed the big picture once again. 

I’m reading Today’s Gospel with Lent in mind.  We understand this season of forty days as preparation for the gift of Easter.  During our Ash Wednesday service, when the season of Lent begins, a statement of Lent was shared with the congregation gathered.   An explanation of the custom of preparing through a season of penitence and fasting was given.  The conclusion of the statement follows, “I invite you…to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial, and by reading and meditating on God’s Holy Word.” Lent is a journey of death and denial in order to rise again. 

Today, I am left wondering how not to fall into the same trap.  If Easter is some solution to death, limited to our own life and existence, a goal or end result of right belief and correct orthodoxy, then have fallen into the same trap? Or is Easter what we experience when the fullness of the Lenten journey shapes and molds our life to an ethic of compassion and virtuous living? 

What are your hopes for the gift of Easter as we begin this fifth week in the season of Lent? May our Christian life possibly be more about the journey than the end result?

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How does Lent shape your faith?  Do you have certain practices specifically for Lent?  What happens to those practices when Easter arrives?

Daily Challenge:  There are a number of special offerings during Holy Week.  Pick one that is not usual for you and attend a service.  Here are the offerings at Saint Stephen’s. 

Superpowers - April 1

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. –1 Corinthians 13: 1-2

In our Scripture readings for today, we hear the beginning of a well-loved, oft-quoted passage from 1 Corinthians 13. We hear about extraordinary things—superpowers if you will: “speaking in the tongues of mortals and of angels,” “having prophetic powers,” “understanding all mysteries and all knowledge,” and “faith that can move mountains.” But we also hear that none of these extraordinary abilities, these superpowers, makes any difference if they are not done with love. In truth, it is the ordinariness of love that has the potential to make what is seemingly most ordinary in our lives—breaking bread, sharing stories, spending time together—into something that is truly extraordinary.

There’s a collaboration between Coldplay and the Chainsmokers from 2017 called “Something Just Like This.” The premise of the song is there’s this guy who doesn’t see himself as having much in common with ancient, mythic superheroes let alone modern-day, blockbuster superheroes: “I’ve been reading books of old, the legends and the myths, Achilles and his gold, Hercules and his gifts, Spider-Man’s control, and Batman with his fists—and clearly, I don’t see myself upon that list.” The song is kind of an imagined dialogue between this guy, who doesn’t see himself as a superhero, with a girl who replies that that’s OK because “I’m not looking for somebody with superhuman gifts, some superhero, some fairytale bliss.” In the song, she is reassuring him that she’s not looking for someone with superpowers—she’s “just looking for someone she can turn to.” In other words, someone who’s going to be there in the day to day—someone reliable, someone who shows up with the kinds of things we hear in 1 Corinthians 13, the ordinary traits that set the standard for extraordinary love: someone who has real superhuman gifts like patience, kindness, humility, and truthfulness.

Stan Lee, the creative powerhouse who has so influenced the Marvel Universe, wrote this about what he traits he takes into account when creating a superhero: “A superhero is a person who does heroic deeds and has the ability to do them in a way that a normal person couldn’t. So in order to be a superhero, you need a power that is more exceptional than any power a normal human being could possess, and you need to use that power to accomplish good deeds. … I try to make the characters seem as believable and realistic as possible. In order to do that, I have to place them in the real world, or, if the story is set in an imaginary world, I have to try to make that imaginary world as realistic-seeming as possible, so the character doesn’t exist in a vacuum. He has to have friends, enemies, people he’s in love with, people he doesn’t love—just like any human being. I try to take the superhero and put him in as normal a world as possible, and the contrast between him and his power and the normal world is one of the things that make the stories colorful and believable and interesting.”

We’re kind of like these characters Stan Lee is talking about—we have friends, and maybe even some enemies, we have people we love and then some people we really don’t. We’re just like any other human being. And yet, as Christians, we’re called to follow Jesus—who was most definitely not like any other human being. We’re supposed to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, who was a superhero who could turn water into wine, restore sight to the blind, help the lame walk, make the sick well, and even cast out some demons for good measure! But, of course, Jesus could do all those things—because Jesus is the ultimate superhero, fully human and fully divine.

It can seem very unattainable to be able to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, who had all these divine superpowers even as he walked the earth in human form. How are we supposed to live a life that puts us, to follow Stan Lee’s philosophy of superheroes, in clear contrast with the normal world? Well, there is one superpower that we can choose to fully exercise—we have the ability to love. Love is the superpower that allows us to set aside our own wants and not always insist on our own way. Love is the superpower that allows us to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things. Paul declares that the spiritual gifts of prophesying, speaking in tongues, and possessing all knowledge will all pass away—but love… love is the spiritual superpower that we can keep living into for ever and ever.

To return to that Coldplay song I mentioned earlier, “Something Just Like This,” the woman in the imagined dialogue begins by asking “Where do you want to go? How much do you want to risk?” before she reveals that she’s “not looking for someone with superhuman gifts.” And this lyric points us toward an important point to remember when we decide to pursue Christ’s way of love: choosing to love always requires taking a risk. Anytime we are choosing to put someone else’s needs ahead of our own, by choosing to act toward them with patience and kindness and humility—anytime we are choosing to bear all things, hope all things, believe all things, we are choosing to take some pretty massive risks: We risk our love being rejected. We risk being our love being taken advantage of. We risk our love not being returned. Anytime we take the risk of loving, there’s always the chance that we will not be loved in return.

But here is the truth we need to stubbornly cling to in all of the risk-taking we do for the sake of loving each other as Christ loves us: “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.”

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

What are some risks you have taken for the sake of loving someone? What are some risks someone else has taken for the sake of loving you?

Daily Challenge

Today’s reflection is an adaptation of my January 30 sermon, “Ordinary, Extraordinary Love,” which you can listen to here.

And you can listen to the song “Something Just Like This” here.

One Bread, One Body - March 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52; Gen. 49:1-28; 1 Cor. 10:14-11:1; Mark 7:24-37

Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.  - 1 Corinthians 10:17

Once a month, Saint Stephen’s ventures offsite on a Saturday morning to appreciate the beauty of where we live through a Holy Hike.  These hikes are usually three miles or less, and over the course of the hike, we participate in a progressive Eucharist.  We pray the opening prayer at the trailhead, then we stop somewhere along the way to hear the Gospel for the morning.  Later in the hike, we pray for ourselves, for our community, and for the needs of the world.  Finally, towards the end of the hike, we stop and break bread. 

When I am the celebrant (the priest on the hike who officiates the service), I’ll stop at Publix and try to find a fun and tasty loaf of bread.  Earlier this month, when we gathered at Tranquility Lake at Oak Mountain, we shared a beautiful garlic loaf of bread and the community gathered was eager to share the rest after communion was over.  If this sounds odd, think about what the Eucharist really is, a sharing of a meal together.  As we gathered on a trail, it felt very much like it could have been during the early days of the church, people traveling around and breaking bread as Christians on their journey. 

What was clearer on that beautiful Saturday morning earlier this month, was just how difficult it was to tear the bread as we finished the Eucharistic prayer.  Grabbing the loaf and physically breaking it apart so that we could share together was more evident than on a typical Sunday morning.  I had to use a little muscle to take the large freshly baked loaf and tear the body in two.  And then we all shared this sacred gift, being intentional about how each piece was broken apart. 

As Christians, we all receive the source of life from the same place.  Gathered around with a single loaf of bread is a physical reminder of this.  The tearing of the bread is also a reminder of Christ’s body being broken, an image of the way to life coming through brokenness, pain, and separation.  What immediately follows that pain and separation is life, renewal, and hope.

in the fifth century, one of the church fathers, John Chrysostom, said that the only unreconcilable sin was schism because it breaks apart the body of Christ.  It might be a helpful reminder, as faithful people, we are united as the body of Christ, brought together by brokenness, pain, and separation to find the source of life dwelling in each of us and binding us together.  That is what we profess as faithful people when we come forward to receive the gift that God has made for each of us, a hopeful reminder in an always challenging time.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How does the Eucharist nourish you?  Do you notice a difference when you have not been able to receive? 

Daily Challenge:  Consider joining Saint Stephen’s on Saturday’s Holy hike.  Information can be found here.  We will meet at Orr Park in Montevallo at 9 a.m. this Saturday.

Utterly Astounded - March 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 95 [for the Invitatory] 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Gen. 47:1-26; 1 Cor. 9:16-27; Mark 6:47-56

Today’s Reflection

When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the lake. He intended to pass them by. But when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded. –Mark 6: 48-51

This week I was in a discussion group on Zoom that met three times over the course of the week. We were learning about a new model for incorporating seekers and newcomers into Christian communities of faith. And we were learning by doing, experiencing a glimpse into the course by immersing ourselves as participants would. So, the first thing one does in this course is to go around the group and respond to the prompt, “What has been the heart of your week?”

One day we responded to a variation on this, “What has been the heart of Lent for you this year?” As we went around and shared, when I decided to share, I said that the heart of Lent for me this year is trust. I shared how this year the season of Lent is coinciding with a season in life in which I am looking for a new home for my family. And as I shared with the group, as someone who likes to have a plan, it is hard not to know where we will be living when our lease ends later this spring. For those who have experienced the process of finding a new home, there are many unknowns and many factors that seem beyond our control. You may find just the right home, but it is all still in the seller’s hands as to whether they will accept your offer or someone else’s. All of this is to say, there is much to feel stressed and worried about when finding a new home. In other words, there are many opportunities to put our trust in God.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus is out for his morning walk—walking on the water, as only Jesus could do! He wasn’t planning to stop by to hang out with his friends out on their boat, but when he saw that they were rowing into some harsh winds and then were feeling even more panicked when they thought they saw a ghost (Jesus walking on the water), Jesus decided to make a detour on his morning walk: “But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ Then he got into the boat with them, and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded.” What Jesus did is instructive: 1) he set aside his own plans, 2) he shared words of comfort, and most importantly 3) he made a point to get into the boat with them. This last part is especially key to building trust. While Jesus’ words, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid,” were surely comforting to his friends, what ultimately set them at ease and helped them to truly believe that everything would be OK was Jesus getting to the boat with them. It was then that the waves of worry ceased.

But what is left unstated in this story that seems important to consider is that his friends let Jesus get into the boat with them—even though, at first, they thought he was a ghost! Sometimes someone may come toward us wanting to help and we may, out of our own fears or sense of wanting to take care of things for ourselves, not let them get into the boat with us. So, while Jesus’ friends are depicted in the story as being kind of helpless and overwhelmed, they did do one very important thing: when Jesus came toward them, even though they were scared and confused, they let Jesus get into the boat with them. And when they did, they began to see more clearly (so much that they were utterly astounded!) that they could trust that Jesus would always be with them.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Recall a time when it felt difficult to trust in Jesus or in another person. What happened that restored your sense of trusting in Jesus or in your companion? What can you do in your relationships with others that would help strengthen the sense of mutual trust?

Daily Challenge

I preached my sermon on the first Sunday of Lent all around the idea about Lent being about trust, our trusting God as well as developing trusting relationships with others by sharing our stories with one another. You can listen to the sermon again here.

Made for God - March 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Gen. 45:16-28; 1 Cor. 8:1-13; Mark 6:13-29

Indeed, even though there may be so-called gods in heaven or on earth—as in fact there are many gods and many lords—yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist. (1 Cor. 8:5-6)

Reading this eighth chapter of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, I was struck by these verses right in the middle of an exploration of what the eating habits of a first century Christian might look like. The apostle Paul helps those in Corinth connect their beliefs in the teachings and ministry of Jesus to life in community with others. While this letter gives meaningful guidance to the people two thousand years ago, it also imparts theological statements that continue to define Christianity today.

There must have been questions about whether it was acceptable to eat food others have prepared in sacrifice to idols, perhaps upon the great Green Egg of Bacchus. Paul welcomes the query, reaffirming the monotheistic foundation of following God, “we know that ‘no idol in the world really exists’, and that ‘there is no God but one’.”

He does something interesting in the next words: he concedes that there could be other gods in the world. Paul allows that there are many lords and leaders who would try to guide and govern our lives. How wise, considering those to whom he is writing are in Greece, where the cultural rhythms include honoring the gods and retelling the myths of the deities upon the mountain. Paul does not argue and dispute. Instead, he opens his mind widely in welcome and chooses to say this next: the existence of those other divine entities does not matter. Here is what does matter: for us there is one God. For us there is one Creator. In our hearts, we will follow God.

Paul takes it one step further, laying out what Christians believe about God by expressing who God is: God is the Father from whom all things are…and for God all things came to be. It is for God that we exist.

Let that sit with you…as I am sitting with it, too. The preposition “for” sticks with me…it is for God that we exist. How does that shift the perception of what is important for each of us today? How can that tiny, huge statement serve as the lens to realign or refocus our eyes upon the God-space of existence?

But wait, Paul has more. If you keep reading now, your mind and heart will be doubly stretched…with no extra shipping and handling fees.

Paul says, while there is one God the Father, also there is one Lord, Jesus Christ. It is this Lord and King who governs our lives, not an emperor or governor or worldly leader. Jesus is the channel…through Jesus all things are. This language ties Jesus as a person of the Trinity from before creation, though he was born and present as a human later. Furthermore, Paul writes that it is through Jesus that we exist. It is through the Son that we see the path more clearly that God has called us to.

We are created by God and for God. All creation came through the channel of Jesus. I imagine a ten-year-old Jesus alongside God the Father, walking the rows of a creation warehouse…and Jesus holds out his hand to brush just a touch of each item he walks past. Maybe that is a little bit of what a blessing is…to feel just the lightest touch of the Divine.

I pray that today you are grounded in who you are and whose you are, as you are made for God. Let that knowledge lift your eyes to welcome those in need around you. May God’s grace fill and overwhelm you, for you are wonderfully and beautifully made.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

For whom are you doing things today? To whom do you belong?

Daily Challenge

Reflect on this sentence: "It is for God that I exist."

What comes up for you? Spend a few minutes journaling. Pay attention to feelings and images that arise.

Making the Story Known - March 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Gen. 44:18-34; 1 Cor. 7:25-31; Mark 5:21-43

On Sunday morning, I met an Evangelist.  He wasn’t your typical evangelist, but he looked at me eagerly as I greeted people before the service.  “Do you know Paw Patrol?” he asked.   I shook my head responding that I knew very little, and he wanted to tell me a whole lot more.  Over the next ninety seconds or so, I received a beautiful explanation of the power of Paw Patrol and why I should be watching Paw Patrol.  His parents joked about how he loved to spread the good news of Paw Patrol.  I think they are on to something.

In the Gospel stories, people experience life-changing healing.  Hemorrhaging stops in today’s story by a woman who encounters God, pressing through a crowd.  At the same time, a man named Jairus is concerned about his own daughter’s health. She is near the point of death, the crowd is already grieving the loss, and Jesus places his hand on her own hand and her life is restored. 

You and I are followers of Jesus because others proclaimed the power of God in their lives.  We get caught up in the story, moved to compassion, love, and transformation, not because a church has a good youth program and the ‘right’ people at church (whatever that means), but because of the power of God to heal and restore life. 

In one weekend I personally witnessed three different stories of remarkable compassion (that I can’t write about), people in our community trying to selflessly help others be whole, without any credit to themselves.  If these were just isolated events, we might say people are good.  I’d like to suggest that attributing acts of healing and kindness to individuals misses what is really at work, that is the power of God.  If God is the source of love, it is God’s work in each of us that is transforming this world into the kingdom of God.

As I reflect this morning, it dawns on me how important it is to be evangelists to the power of the love of Christ.  To my new three-year-old Paw Patrol evangelist friend: I hope I live with the same passion for telling the story of God’s love and healing power as you do for Paw Patrol.  Thank you for reminding me to tell the story and to invite others into the story too.  God is so good and Jesus’s healing love is all around us.  We just need to help make the story known.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How have you seen the work of God alive in your own life?  Where have you seen healing, hope, and miracles?

Daily Challenge:  Tell someone how God has changed your life.  Try inviting someone to church, not because of the programs the church offers, but because of what God has done in your life. 

Bird Songs in the Storm - March 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 95 [for the Invitatory] 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73
Gen. 43:1-15; 1 Cor. 7:1-9; Mark 4:35-41

Today’s Reflection

As for me, I am afflicted and in pain; your help, O God, will lift me up on high.
I will praise the Name of God in song; I will proclaim his greatness with thanksgiving. —Psalm 69: 31-32

As I sit here in early morning hours at my kitchen counter to write this reflection, it is still dark outside. But I hear the beginnings of a thunderstorm brewing and as the rain is beginning to fall. The sound of the thunder, though it is still too dark to see the clouds in the sky, prompted me to check the weather app on my phone, revealing that we have a very tempestuous, rain-soaked day ahead. And yet, even with all these sounds and signs of a stormy day, I hear something else in the quiet of the morning: I hear birds singing perched amongst all the trees of my backyard.

Even as the thunder continues to rumble, these birds are continuing to sing—and not only that, but what sounded at first as a single bird or maybe two, when I opened my backdoor to hear them more clearly, I could tell that more and more birds were joining in. I wondered what birds I was hearing, singing and calling to one another in the darkness and the thunder before daybreak. I took out my Cornell bird app and held it out into the darkness to get a sampling of the sounds, and quickly I learned I was hearing Carolina Wrens, Northern Cardinals, Purple Finches, and American Robins. It’s a beautiful choir of bird voices being raised just outside my windows, even as the lightning is beginning to flash and the thunderstorms are moving in for the rest of the morning.

The Psalm we read for this morning is also about a day where waters are rising up to the psalmist’s neck, maybe a thunderstorm has brought with it a flood not unlike the one likely to overcome my flood-prone street this morning. For the first 13 verses of this 38-verse psalm, the psalmist is describing how overwhelmed and full of despair they are feeling as they look around at the circumstances they are facing. Here’s a sampling: “Save me, O God, for the waters have risen up to my neck. I am sinking in deep mire, and there is no firm ground for my feet. I have come into deep waters, and the torrent washes over me. I have grown weary with my crying; my throat is inflamed; my eyes have failed from looking for my God” (vv. 1-4).

But then in verse 14, the psalmist’s lament takes a turn into a different theme, moving from a description of how hard things are and into remembering that God is there and realizing that God can be turned to for help: “But as for me, this is my prayer to you, at the time you have set, O Lord: ‘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. Let not the torrent of waters wash over me, neither let the deep swallow me up; do not let the Pit shut its mouth upon me. Answer me, O Lord, for your love is kind; in your great compassion, turn to me’” (vv. 14-18). The psalmist then gets distracted by complaining to God about adversaries for a long stretch, in verses 19-30—even in ancient days people got under each other’s skin, distracting them from more important things (sounds familiar, yes?).

Eventually, once the psalmist gets those complaints out of their system, we return to a strong sense that God is there, holding out love and grace and acceptance to us, even as life’s storms make the waters rise up to our necks, threatening to knock us off our feet, and even as adversaries make us frustrated and annoyed and miserable at times. In the end, the psalmist takes heart and is reminded to trust in God, who is faithful and abounding in steadfast love for each one of us—especially when the rains are falling fast, and the floods are rising up all around us. I hope that just as the torrents are beginning to come down as I finish writing this reflection now, just after 7 o’clock this morning, that we can find a way to keep singing as the rain comes down and the thunder booms:

As for me, I am afflicted and in pain;
your help, O God, will lift me up on high.
I will praise the Name of God in song;
I will proclaim his greatness with thanksgiving. …
For the Lord listens to the needy,
and his prisoners he does not despise.
Let the heavens and the earth praise him,
the seas and all that moves in them.  (vv. 31-32, 35-36)

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Just as we can hear birds singing even as the rain and thunder come, what signs of hope have you seen even in the midst of challenging times?

Daily Challenge

Pick one or two verses from Psalm 69 that seem most meaningful to you. Find a piece of paper on which you can copy it out in your own writing, and then keep coming back to the verse throughout the day or the week to begin to memorize it and make it your own.

Joseph and the Reckoning of His Brothers - March 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Gen. 42:18-28; 1 Cor. 5:9-6:8; Mark 4:1-20

Hard decisions. Have you ever been in the position of having to make a really hard choice? Maybe choosing between two people, knowing that in choosing, one of those will be left behind? The portions of Genesis 42 appointed this week walk us through a painful story of ups and downs, choices and consequences.

Jacob, son of Isaac, lives in Canaan and has twelve sons. The ten older sons abuse and torment their younger brother Joseph, selling him into slavery. Joseph becomes a powerful assistant to the Pharaoh in Egypt, and even serves as governor. Meanwhile, famine is widespread around the area – except for Egypt where there are copious amounts of grain for bread. Jacob sends all but one of his remaining sons to buy grain, keeping Benjamin at home and safe.

Joseph, now bilingual and well above the lowly state his brothers left him in, recognizes his brothers, though they do not realize in whose presence they find themselves. The men bow down to the governor. Through an interpreter who translates his words into Hebrew, Joseph demands of them, “Where do you come from?” They stutter and stammer, “From the land of Canaan to buy food.” Joseph, continuing his harsh exterior, says, “You are spies. You have come to see the nakedness of the land!” The brothers vehemently deny being spies and say that they come from twelve brothers, the youngest staying behind and the other is no more.

Joseph demands that they be tested. They must bring their youngest brother to see him – the one kept at home for safety – or else the rest will not be released. He imprisons them for three days. Then, there is an updated offer placed on the table: “If you are honest men, let one of your brothers stay here where you are imprisoned. The rest of you shall go and carry grain for the famine of your households, and bring your youngest brother to me. Thus your words will be verified and you shall not die.”

The ten brothers confer in their native tongue while Joseph stands waiting. They agree to Joseph’s proposal. They reflect, “Alas, we are paying the penalty for what we did to our brother; we saw his anguish when he pleaded with us, but we would not listen. That is why this anguish has come upon us.” Reuben says, “Did I not tell you not to wrong the boy? But you would not listen. So now there comes a reckoning for his blood.” Through and through, the sons of Jacob realize that their actions are not without consequences. They accept that their pattern of abuse and bullying has been deeply destructive.

Joseph hears and understands every word exchanged. He turns away and weeps. He selects Simeon to stay as the collateral. It is not clear what else Joseph says to his nine brothers who are sent away home. What we do read is that Joseph gives orders to fill bags belonging to the sons of Jacob – fill them with grain, plus the monies that had been confiscated through their imprisonment, and extra provisions for the journey home.

Upon homecoming, the nine traveling sons of Jacob retell the events, referring to Joseph as “the lord of the land” who spoke harshly to them and charged them with being spies. The brothers plead their honesty, though when they empty their sacks, they are filled with grain and the bags of money they brought on the trip.

Did they look as if they were thieves? While the nine have survived the peril of their journey, what remains of the relationship between them and their father? Perhaps now the deceitfulness of their habits is laid bare. Can you imagine the tension at play here?

It is tragic, really. We have such a deep propensity to love and cherish one another, and yet sometimes what we do is taunt and diminish those closest to us. Those actions leave scars. Lent is a time to look at the wounds we have caused. Lent is a time to lean against God for support as we are deeply honest with ourselves and others. Lent is a time to examine where we have been and dream about where we might go, illumined by the hope granted in the resurrection of Jesus. We know now that that hope is ahead.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

God is not mentioned in this story from Genesis 42. Where do you see God in this story? Where may God be with you on days that the presence of the Divine is not something you recognize or feel?

Daily Challenge

Sit down and imagine how this story of Jacob’s sons is inviting you to live differently. Pray to God for the wisdom of sight and understanding, to know this story more deeply and live into it with God’s wisdom and faithfulness.

Council of Advice - March 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Gen. 41:46-57; 1 Cor. 4:8-20(21); Mark 3:7-19a

I’ve always thought of the twelve disciples as people who were swept up in Jesus’s movement, compelled to go along for how it would change their lives. Historically, I have placed the emphasis on how following Jesus changed the disciples’ lives, but another question could be asked.  How did the disciples change Jesus’s life? 

In this morning’s Gospel, a crowd begins to follow Jesus, specifically a “great multitude from Galilee.”  He orders the disciples to have a boat ready, “because of the crowd, so they would not crush him.”  There is no wasting time in the Gospel of Mark.  From the beginning Jesus is engaged in action, changing the world through his healing and curing. 

And then he goes up the mountain and appoints twelve to “be with him” (v 14), “and then he went home” (v 19).  While I certainly don’t want to suggest the Son of God doesn’t have the power to change the world on his own, it seems important that Jesus has a council of advice, or a team of people to support him.  Maybe it is possible that he could do this on his own, but he doesn’t.  He invites a group to join him and support him and be with him.

We are all engaged in the work of healing and ministry by virtue of our Baptism.  Our lives are the mission fields that Jesus invites us into. A more targeted question is who are the people we have invited into our lives for the specific purpose of supporting our faith lived out?  Do you have a council of advice that gives you support, challenge, vision, and encouragement? 

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Who are the specific people who help you on applying your faith in your daily life?  Have these people naturally found this role, or did you invite them into it?  Why does this matter?  How could you be more intentional in cultivating supporting relationships?

Daily Challenge:  Invite someone new into your council of advice. Here is an article about seeking a younger mentor that could challenge your assumptions about whom to invite in. 

Invitation - March 11

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 95 [for the Invitatory] 40, 54; PM Psalm 51, Gen. 40:1-23; 1 Cor. 3:16-23; Mark 2:13-22

Just before we begin reading the scripture passages appointed for the day in Morning Prayer, we say what is called an invitatory psalm. Usually that is a portion of Psalm 95, beginning, “Come, let us sing to the Lord; let us shout for joy to the Rock of our salvation.” These words are a prayer inviting us to be in God’s presence as we begin our day. These verses beckon us to ground our day in thanksgiving, no matter what, because God has created all that we are and that surrounds us. As such, in gratitude we are also invited to get down on our knees to pray.

On Fridays in Lent, we pray the whole of this psalm, rather than only the first seven verses in the Book of Common Prayer. Here’s what I note in pondering these additional verses of the psalm. The speaker shifts from the voice of a worship leader or friend to the voice of God. The words change from esteeming the Lord and describing what God has done, to stating what humans have done – and ought not do – in relationship to God.

Let’s look deeper. We read in verse 8: “Harden not your hearts, as your forebears did in the wilderness, at Meribah, and on that day at Massah, when they tempted me.”

Do you find yourself wondering what happened at Meribah and Massah?

In Exodus 17, the chronicles of Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness continue. The people are complaining, hungry, and thirsty. And complaining. They plead with Moses again and again, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” Moses is frustrated beyond belief and cries out to God, “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” The Lord tells Moses to go ahead to the rock at Horeb, where God will be standing on a rock…and when that rock is struck, water will gush forth and provide refreshment for the Israelites. That place is named Massah and Meribah, meaning “Test” and “Quarrel”, for these days in the wilderness were full of hardship and testing. And Moses was done without God’s saving help.

This wilderness context helps us understand what is going on in this latter part of Psalm 95. That theme continues as we read verse 9 and through the end of the psalm: “They put me to the test, though they had seen my works.” That makes more sense, right?

Then, verses 10 and 11: “Forty years long I detested that generation and said, ‘This people are wayward in their hearts; they do not know my ways.’ So I swore in my wrath, ‘They shall not enter into my rest.’” Recalling Moses and the wandering wilderness stories of the Old Testament, I can understand these verses better, though it hurts to hear that our unchangeable God would detest a generation and remain distant from them.

Like many parts of the Bible, reconciling and receiving the message takes time and prayer. Holy Scripture helps us reflect on our own lives and how we might lean more toward God and bend away from those things that detract us from faithful living. Others’ stories and prayers help us see and understand. Regardless, we sit with this scripture. We pray it on Fridays in Lent as we are invited into a prayerful time. Perhaps we will be moved to softened hearts and deeper reliance upon God, minimizing the testing and quarreling.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What practices help you get into a prayerful mindset during the day?

How do you begin prayers? How do you end them?

Daily Challenge

Read Psalm 95 again. Write down the word or phrase that helps open your heart to God. Use that word or phrase in the days ahead as a word of focus and invitation to cover your day in prayer.

Even now you are still not ready - March 10

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 19, 46; Gen. 39:1-23; 1 Cor. 2:14-3:15; Mark 2:1-12

Have you ever felt guilty about how faithful you are, or maybe more specifically about how you live into your faith?  I do all the time.  I spend a lot of time reading stories in Scripture and learning about the lives of other faithful people. It’s still amazing to me that all of the disciples dropped everything and followed Jesus leaving behind careers and family and probably a whole lot of what they felt was security.   Would I have done the same?  I hope so, but I also doubt it.

Becky and Katherine kicked off a discussion on a book titled “Good Enough” by Kate Bowler.  I wasn’t privy to the conversation as I led a Bible study at the same time, but I am intrigued by the title.  I am guessing it’s a reminder that many of us are saddled with the feeling that we are not good enough.  Even when intellectually, we can believe that God’s grace that we experience in Jesus Christ still touches our lives, we can’t seem to let go of not being good enough.  We ask ourselves over and over, “God may love me and forgive me, but why I am not a better Christian?” 

Paul has an interesting take on the Christian faith as he writes to the church in Corinth.  “Even now you are still not ready,” he tells them, people who follow Jesus, and yet have not fully embraced the ethic that Paul imagines is necessary for the Christian life. 

“Even now you are still not ready.”  He sees the community in Corinth as infants in their faith without not only the knowledge but the ability to live into the faith as we ultimately will be able to one day.  And he loves the community in Corinth.  He begins his epistle with these words: “I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus.”  He loves them and recognizes God’s work in them, and yet sees them still as infants!

You and I do not have to have perfected our Christian Faith.  We just have to agree to love Jesus and follow him.  And this means we get to grow in his love.  What new ways of love will we learn tomorrow?

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where do you think you have come up short in your Christian faith?  Who do you admire that you think has figured it all out?  What are some ways of living that you have found impossible yourself and let others inspire you to consider? 

Daily Challenge:  Come up with three ways that you would like to grow in your faith in the coming year.  Write them down on a postcard and put them somewhere that you will see regularly in your house. 

'God is there, and more near to us than we are to ourselves'

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; Gen. 37:25-36; 1 Cor. 2:1-13; Mark 1:29-45

Today’s Reflection

But we speak God’s wisdom, secret and hidden, which God decreed before the ages for our glory. None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. But, as it is written, ‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him’— these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. For what human being knows what is truly human except the human spirit that is within? So also no one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God. Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God. And we speak of these things in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual things to those who are spiritual. —1 Corinthians 2: 7-13

We humans like to think that if we can understand something, we can control it—or at least have some sense that we can predict how things may unfold, or what may happen next, of what the outcome will be. The scientific revolution was centered in our ability to apply a methodology in which we formulate a hypothesis for why something happens in a certain way, and then using our senses to make observations that we consider as evidence for why our hypothesis is proven to be true or not true. Oftentimes this may involves quantifying what we observe—how many of something, or how long something lasted, or how often something happened, and so on. Bringing our senses together with our rationality through carrying out the scientific method, we believe that we can have more understanding of why things are as they are, and by so understanding our world have some semblance of how we might have more control over some aspects of the physical world. (Apologies to any scientists reading this reflection—this reflection is written by someone fully steeped in the humanities disciplines of rhetoric, literature, and theology who has not taken a science course in well over 25 years.)

As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, however, there are many aspects of our world that remain beyond our human observation and comprehension: “But we speak God’s wisdom, secret and hidden, which God decreed before the ages for our glory. … ‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him’— these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit.’” In other words, there is a level of existence that is divine, beyond what our human eyes, ears, or understanding can observe or rationally understand. This doesn’t mean, though, that we cannot access this divine wisdom, that which God has prepared for those who love him. Rather, what this means (or so it seems to me) is that in order to connect with the divine we must go through life relying not solely on our physical senses and our rational mind to guide us, but more importantly we must live into being children of God who, through the Holy Spirit at work in us, so that we can also navigate our lives and relationships on a level that transcends what can be sensed physically and understood rationally. As Paul further reflected: “Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God. And we speak of these things in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual things to those who are spiritual.”

In the 1660s, an English priest named Thomas Traherne composed many beautiful meditations on such things. As we close today’s time of daily reflection, I leave you meditate on Paul’s words alongside Traherne’s ponderings about what is Infinite. May we find within a sense that who we are and the God we believe in is even “more near to us than we are to ourselves.”

—Becky+

Few will believe the soul to be infinite: yet Infinite is the first thing which is naturally known. Bounds and limits are discerned only in a secondary manner. Suppose a man were born deaf and blind. By the very feeling of his soul, he apprehends infinite about him, infinite space, infinite darkness. He thinks not of wall and limits till he feels them and is stopped by them. That things are finite therefore we learn by our senses. But infinity we know and feel by our souls: and feel it so naturally, as if it were the very essence and being of the soul. The truth of it is, it is individually in the soul: for God is there, and more near to us than we are to ourselves. So that we cannot feel our souls, but we must feel Him, in that first of properties, infinite space. And this we know so naturally, that it is only primo et necessario cognitum in rerum naturd: of all things the only first and most necessarily known. For we can unsuppose Heaven and Earth and annihilate the world in our imagination, but the place where they stood will remain behind, and we cannot unsuppose or annihilate that, do what we can. Which without us is the chamber of our infinite treasures, and within us the repository and recipient of them.

Thomas Traherne, Centuries of Meditations, “The Second Century: Meditation Number 81,” p 132. New York: Cosimo Classics, 2007.

Questions for Reflection

In what ways are you able to connect with a God who exists and loves us in infinite ways that transcend what we can physically sense or rationally understand? What strikes you as beautiful and true about a God who is with us and loves us more than we can ask or imagine? How do we believe and trust in God who surpasses our human understanding?

Daily Challenge

Find a quiet space and time to just be with God today, space and time in which you can just sit with God and bask in knowing you are loved and precious in God’s heart.

Follow me! - March 8

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 45; PM Psalm 47, 48, Gen. 37:12-24; 1 Cor. 1:20-31; Mark 1:14-28 

When our first child was born, a dear friend gave us a series of board books. The thick pages are worn with years of reading, dropping, gnawing, and the like. Our kids are still drawn to the images of goslings named Gossie and Gertie, who are best friends. Where one goes, the other joins. To wear their shiny boots in the rain. To check out the barnyard animals. To dive in the pond. One day, Gossie calls her best goose buddy to follow onto the next venue: stomping in a mud puddle. Gertie makes a different choice. She does not want to jump in the mud. Gossie tries again, “Follow me!” – but Gertie chases a hopping frog. Gossie, now visibly upset, demands, “Follow me!” – but Gertie is tailing a butterfly. Gossie is frustrated that her best friend will not do everything she wants to do. Then, Gertie turns around and calls for Gossie, saying, “Follow me! It’s dinnertime!” Gossie follows Gertie and the yellow goslings happily eat dinner together.

Sometimes, we need a really good reason to follow someone.

In Mark’s good news appointed for today, we hear a story of following a call. Jesus comes to Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God’s kingdom. He calls out to whomever will listen, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” Then, Jesus walks by the water and sees brothers Simon and Andrew throwing nets into the lake, trying to catch fish. Jesus calls out, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” Do you know what those guys did? They dropped their nets and immediately followed Jesus. A bit down the coastline, Jesus sees Zebedee’s boys, James and John, who are repairing the tears in their nets. Surely there is conversation going on as they are preparing for the next haul of fish. Immediately Jesus calls out to them, perhaps saying the same invitation, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” James and John drop the nets, leaving the boat, their dad and the hired hands, and they follow Jesus.

I wonder, what had been stirring in Simon and Andrew’s hearts before Jesus called out to them? Did James and John feel an inkling that some big change was about to present itself? Were they praying to the Lord for a call? Answering God’s call is a bold move. And yet, in the moment, maybe it just feels like the right next thing. These brothers followed Jesus. And Jesus worked with them, training them into a new skill – sowing the seeds of faithfulness as they became fishers of people.

May God open our ears today to hear Jesus calling to us, “Follow me!” – and in the footsteps of John, James, Andrew, and Simon, may we move our feet to walk alongside Jesus in faith.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When someone calls you to follow, how do you respond? With questions? Agreement? Do you invite others to join you? How does it feel to follow someone else?

When have you felt God nudging you to follow?

Daily Challenge 

Lent can be a time for establishing a new spiritual discipline. These spaces of structure are ways to follow God more closely. Consider living into a rule of life - and following the precepts outlined for faithful living. Or, spend time reading the Rule of St. Benedict.