Saying goodbye - May 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96, Lev. 19:1-18; 1 Thess. 5:12-28; Matt. 6:19-24

Saying goodbye. How do you do it? Is it a quick hug and “See you later!”? Or is it a three-hour process of visiting, giving parting words, taking a picture together, and then falling back into seven more stories of shared times and fond memories?

Sam and I took a long weekend and went to a friend’s wedding in California. As it was a destination event, there were pre-pre-wedding gatherings, pre-wedding gatherings, a golf outing, a hike, a pool party…and all that before the wedding itself! Those times for meeting new people and catching up with old friends created this web of relationship and care. Before we knew it, Sunday arrived and it was time to say goodbye. Those words of safe travel and faring well with God’s blessing. We do not know when we will all meet again – and it is unlikely to compare with the grandeur of the wedding setting. Nevertheless, this morning I am filled with the fondness and feeling that swirled in those hugs and hopefulness for all that is ahead.

As such, the closing words of the first letter to the people of Thessalonica presented in our lectionary today hit me with a different emotional tone. What are the last words left with those people? The messages reiterated include treating others with respect, being at peace and harmony, working hard, praying constantly, and giving thanks at all times. And then this: do not quench the Spirit. Oh wow – what openness and mystery lay behind these words! While the reminders to the Thessalonians are about how to conduct themselves with one another and in life, the letter from Paul reminds them to be light enough to be moved by the Holy Spirit…to be inspired by the hopefulness that comes with that Blessed Wind.

I leave you with a blessing that wraps up the message: “May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept whole, healthy, and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Think about saying goodbye. What words of farewell do you use? When do you look forward to saying goodbye? What partings do you dread? How do you help others around you say goodbye?

Daily Challenge

There are some departures we can plan for, and others are a surprise. Have you planned for end of life details? How would you like for the church and your loved ones to celebrate and say goodbye? Look at the funeral resources at Saint Stephen's or reach out to one of the clergy to begin this conversation.

Do Something (and let it shape you) - May 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Lev. 16:1-19; 1 Thess. 4:13-18; Matt. 6:1-6,16-18

One of the interesting and more unsettling elements of an election season is the extreme positions of candidates.  Most people I know, and maybe this is a product of being around a majority of Episcopalians most of the time, find the extreme ends of both sides of the spectrum to be rather alarming.  One of the observations I have found to be true, especially in Alabama, is the idea that a candidate must say something in order to get elected, even if that person won’t actually follow through.  Candidates that might be relatively moderate will say things in campaign ads that seem more extreme, even if they quietly do not hold that exact position.  This points to a truth that is hard to admit: culturally we have reached a point where our words sometimes mean more than our actions.  This is cause for concern. 

One of the theories or principles of Christian Ethics and Moral Theology centers on our understanding of virtues.  Virtues are values such as charity, hope, compassion, and truthfulness.  We develop these virtues by our practice of such values.  If one wants to become more compassionate, they practice compassion until their lives look (and are) compassionate.  So when we don’t tell the truth, it shapes our understanding of ourselves and others to not be truthful people.  It’s hard to regain that confidence because our actions have other purposes than the values they convey underneath about who we are as people.  To be moral and faithful people is to align our actions with the values we hold true and then let those values shape our lives.   

As I read today’s passage, some of the same principles are at play.  Jesus is warning people about practicing their piety in public.  The reward they seek is the affirmation of the community and not actually becoming more pious people.  Whereas going into one’s room, shutting the door, and praying will actually make you a more faithful person. 

In pastoral counseling, I often am asked questions about how to handle situations, and how to be a different person either in relation to a child, parent, or spouse.  The answer is never a verbal answer to the world, but instead a simple action.  If one wants to be more forgiving, practice forgiveness.  If one wants to put less pressure on their child, then put less pressure on their child.  Words are meaningless, but actions will actually change us, especially in the long view. 

We are not our mistakes or imperfections or worst decisions.  We are children of God willing to be molded into who God has called us to be.  So do something that aligns with what you believe and let that action shape who you are and who you are becoming.  God isn’t finished with any of us quite yet!

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What values or virtues are most important to you?  How do you rank them?  When have you taken action that runs against your held virtues and values?

Daily Challenge: Do one thing today that you wouldn’t normally do for the purpose of letting that shape who you want to become. 

Pen Friends - May 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Exod. 34:18-35; 1 Thess. 3:1-13; Matt. 5:27-37

Today’s Reflection

Once upon a time, I was a prolific letter writer. My letter writing began when I was in elementary school, and my first correspondence was with my cousin Leslie, who lived in Kentucky. She was less than a year younger than me and we always treasured the week or two we would spend together each summer when my family would drive up from Florida to spend time with my mother’s parents at their farm in Smiths Grove. Throughout elementary and junior high school, we would write back and forth about all manner of things, from making plans for the summer to describing what boy we liked at the moment.

I also was a Girl Scout for seven years, and one of the things we did through scouts was to sign up to have “pen pals.” I had two: Sara and Catherine, both in England. I corresponded the longest with Catherine, who lived in Farnham, a town in Surrey, which is southwest of London. One summer, Catherine’s family came to Florida to visit Disney and the beaches, and we had them over to our house. Later, after we were in college, we still wrote occasionally, and saw each other again once when she was in the States. Looking back, I see how I gained perspective by exchanging all those letters over the years with my cousin in Kentucky and with these friends my age who lived across the Atlantic from me.

I continued writing letters as a college student in the 1990s, before everyone had email and well before the invention of smartphones and texting. Between terms, I corresponded with many of my close friends from college—we’d share what was going on with our summer jobs and social lives and all the things that college students probably just boil down into very succinct texts or share about through posting pictures on Instagram instead of writing it in words.

So, it’s not surprising that I’ve always been drawn to Paul’s letters. That Paul is writing to specific people, whom he cared about and loved—and who cared and loved for him—gives real heart and substance to these letters in ways that make these books of the Bible come alive for me as a reader. From his heartfelt greetings to his prayerful final exhortations, one can sense the real bond of friendship and partnership Paul shared with his friends throughout the Mediterranean region, from Ephesus and Galatia, to Corinth and Rome, to Philippi and Thessaloniki.

In today’s passage from 1 Thessalonians 3, Paul tells of how he and some others decided they needed to stay in Athens, but have sent their dear companion Timothy to be with their friends in Thessaloniki and to send word back about they were doing: “For this reason, when I could bear it no longer, I sent to find out about your faith; I was afraid that somehow the tempter had tempted you and that our labour had been in vain. But Timothy has just now come to us from you, and has brought us the good news of your faith and love. He has told us also that you always remember us kindly and long to see us—just as we long to see you” (1 Thess. 3: 5-6).

Timothy came back to Paul and their companions in Athens bearing good news of how their friends and fellow believers in Thessaloniki were doing in their faith. Though they had been left on their own, without the leadership of Paul or others in his group of early church leaders, they had the faith and love and other gifts needed to begin to lead their church on their own—which was a great relief to Paul. All the time and energy they had put into encouraging the believers in Thessaloniki had been fruitful, and hearing word of this warmed Paul’s heart even as he was going through difficult times in Athens: “during all our distress and persecution we have been encouraged about you through your faith. For we now live, if you continue to stand firm in the Lord. How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you?” (1 Thess. 3: 7-9).

Finally, Paul’s letters are also filled with heartfelt prayers for his friends far away, and this letter to the Thessalonians is no exception. May we be so bold as to pray for one another, for our friends both near and far, as Paul prayed for these friends of his:

Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus direct our way to you. And may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you. And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints. (I Thess 3: 11-13).

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Who have you kept in touch with over the years, whether by letters, calls, emails, or texts, who has been a partner and encourager in your faith in Christ? What ways of staying connected with those who are not present with you physically, whether across town or across thousands of miles, resonate best with who you are and how you communicate?

Daily Challenge

In your prayer time today, ask God to bring someone to mind who would be encouraged to hear from you. Make time to reach out to that person to check on how they are doing and let them know they are on your mind and in your heart this day.

God, Moses, and the Tent of Meeting – May 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53], Exod. 33:1-23; 1 Thess. 2:1-12; Matt. 5:17-20

Moses and the Israelites are away from home for a long time. They are captives in Egypt and then they are set free from the grasp of Pharaoh. The trials are not yet complete. The wanderers are not lost in the big picture, for they are heading to the land sworn to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Close-up, though, Moses is struggling. He goes to the tent of meeting to have a conference with God, “the LORD used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. Then he would return to the camp”. Moses enters the tent, frustrated. God has said, “Bring up this people” and Moses is not sure who is going with him. God has said, “I know you by name and you have found favor in my sight.” Moses hopes for a bit more tangible support, for if they are favored by God, they really need God to be moving along with them in their journey – and to be apparent to them. Moses gets bold, “Show me your glory, I pray.” God answers in the affirmative, promising divine goodness to pass before Moses, with grace and mercy upon the people. God also says this, “There is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock; and while my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen.”

The Lord hears Moses – the frustration, the tension. God answers Moses’ prayer in their one-on-one tent meeting. God also promises protection – even from the divine brilliance that emanates from God.

What a powerful image to welcome us where we are today. God meets us where we are. God hears our hearts’ yearning. And when we approach the Lord with our humble and honest pleas, God answers in faithfulness and protection.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection 

If you were to have a tent meeting with God this week, what would you talk about?

What stories have you heard of people feeling God’s protection in a hard time? Where have you seen God protecting or shielding you? What might that divine care feel like?

Daily Challenge

Re-read Chapter 32 of Exodus. Hold in your heart that you are one of the people God is bringing along into the world. Then, get a piece of paper and write out what you would talk with God about in that tent of meeting. Pour out the joys, concerns, and truths of where you are right now. When you are finished, circle the action words. Sit in prayer for five minutes, listening and being. And give thanks for a one-on-one with God.

Golden Calves

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Exod. 32:1-20; Col 3:18-4:6(7-18); Matt. 5:1-10

Moses has gone up the mountain to receive instruction from God, and God’s people are down below eager for something to happen.  Moses has been up there a little too long, and the people become anxious and fanatic, and so they gather around Aaron begging for a new god.  “Come, make gods for us, who shall go before us” and Aaron takes a bunch of gold and fashions a golden calf. 

On Tuesdays, I have been discussing with others a book by David Zahl called Seculosity:  How Career, Parenting, Technology, Food, Politics, and Romance became our New Religion and What to do About It. Zahl’s thesis is as people haven’t just left church, they have replaced religion with their own form of religion.  Essentially, we have crafted our own golden calves and they are called a career, or romance, or parenting. 

In the introduction, Zahl writes that “you’ll hear about people scrambling to be successful enough, happy enough, thin enough, wealthy enough, influential enough, desired enough, charitable enough, woke enough, good enough.  We believe instinctively that, were we to reach some benchmark in our minds, then value, vindication, and love would be ours – that if we got enough, we would be enough.”  If we can find the perfect partner or soul mate (he rightly suggests that there is not one), or the perfect promotion, or the child who gets into the perfect school and has a good enough career, then we will be justified in our existence. 

Zahl’s writing is captivating, and I am thoroughly enjoying his book.  Although his thesis does sound like what most of us already know that we are doing. We work too hard to prove something to ourselves, or we put our trust in finding the perfect partner, or we try to make everything work out for our children and the pressure only builds.  We have fashioned a bunch of golden calves to justify our existence when all we really need to know is God’s unconditional love and grace that extends beyond our imperfections.  

Maybe we even try to be perfect in our church lives by serving on the vestry, being the perfect usher or acolyte, and learning Scripture and theology the right way!  Is it possible our own church identity could be a golden calf too?

I’ve got a news flash for you.  I am pretty darn imperfect and so are you and we are never going to be enough to the golden calves we have created.  But God said we were indeed very good when we were created and God loved us so much to come and be with us, and dwell with us, and take on the enormity of pain and suffering with us.  That sounds like enough. 

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What are the idols that you worship?  How does your career or identity affect your spiritual health?

Daily Challenge:  Counselors can be a wonderful reflective tool to help create balance and not place too much faith in the wrong idols.  Check to find out if your health insurance covers a wellness mental health visit.

You Cannot Do it Alone - May 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15; Exod. 18:13-27; 1 Pet. 5:1-14; Matt. (1:1-17),3:1-6

Can we bring you dinner?  This is often what a church community or a friendship offers when we don’t know what else to do, and paradoxically, what many others have offered in my own life, when things have been busy and full or challenging.  Sometimes the answer is a resounding yes, that would be lovely, and more often than not, there is this smidgen of guilt.  “No, I couldn’t possibly put someone else out or inconvenience you.” 

Today’s first lesson is a classic commentary on leadership. Moses has been handling the affairs of his entire community, so much so that his father-in-law is concerned.  “What you are doing is not good” says his father-in-law.  He is concerned about burnout, about the weight that Moses has placed on himself and the lack of empowering others. “You will surely wear yourself out, both you and these people with you.” My favorite casual reminder from Moses’ father-in-law is “You cannot do it alone.”  Maybe the single most important piece of wisdom on leadership in the entire Bible. A thought worth considering this morning: “What is the relationship between ego and burnout?”    

It's easy to make this comparison to the church, to clergy and vestry leaders who have taken responsibility for programs, ministries, and church communities, and embody the heaviness of their responsibilities.  Or maybe it is easy to see the parallels in the family trying to grow a business while raising children involved in competitive sports, or the father trying to care for his aging mother, or the teacher who has all the demands from her students and the school coming hurling full speed at the end of a school year.  Or a person preparing to move from the home they have lived into an apartment closer to grandchildren who can help with care.  “You cannot do it alone.” 

Exodus offers practical wisdom.  I often find it far too easy to offer up the simple answer of God’s presence when things get tough.  When someone has a challenging order ahead, the casual reminder that God is with us becomes the simple answer.  But Exodus offers us something different.  Don’t just know that God is with you, actually allow others to make the less important decisions for you, so you can focus on what is most important.

If someone has offered dinner, it's okay to say yes. Can’t eat it all?  That’s ok too.   Make dinner a decision you don’t have to worry about.  What else can you let go of too?  Who else is willing and able to make decisions for you?  A little empowerment goes a long way.

John+  

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Consider the questions in the reflection such as what is the relationship between ego and burnout?  Where in your life do you feel exhaustion and where do you find renewal?  Is decision-making a part of that?  Who in your life can help?

Daily Challenge: Empower someone in your life, to make a decision for you that lessens your own burdens. 

Manna on the Curb - April 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 20, 21:1-7(8-14); PM Psalm 110:1-5(6-7), 116, 117
Exod. 17:1-16; 1 Pet. 4:7-19; John 16:16-33

Today’s Reflection

Over the past few days in the Daily Office lectionary, we have been reading through Exodus 16 and 17, in which the people of Israel are wandering in the desert and they feeling pretty fed up and grouchy about it. The recently popular word ‘hangry’—a portmanteau blending hungry with angry—comes to mind: “irritable or angry because of hunger” (Merriam-Webster). Here’s how God responded:

And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked towards the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. The Lord spoke to Moses and said, “I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.’” (Exodus 16: 10-12)

So, in the evening, God sent down quail enough to cover the ground of their camp (which seems now an extravagant provision for them in their wilderness time). But the people were still hangry, and so God sent them a strange, flaky substance, which the author of Exodus describes as similar to coriander seed, covering the ground when they woke up in the morning, and told them to gather all they would need not just for that day, but enough for their families for the days to come. This is the manna that God sent from heaven to provide for his people so they would not hunger.

In today’s reading from Exodus 17, the people of Israel are continuing to journey across the wilderness, and now they are feeling very thirsty. Again, they complain to Moses and Aaron:

So Moses cried out to the Lord, ‘What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.’ The Lord said to Moses, ‘Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.’ Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. He called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarrelled and tested the Lord, saying, ‘Is the Lord among us or not?’ (Exodus 17: 4-7).

Yesterday at dusk, with not much time to spare before dark, I finally made it out for a run to end the day. As I was running and listening to music, I had many things running through my mind, including a number of things I’m worried about and hadn’t yet taken care of for my upcoming move a few miles up the road. It’s not a cross-country move, but things still need to be packed and I hadn’t even begun to gather or buy moving boxes and such. I had been looking online and dreading having to pay good money for boxes that will be used for a day or two and then folded up and stored in the garage until the next move—and kicking myself for getting rid of all the boxes from two years ago. (These are the very deep theological thoughts constantly running through this priest’s mind lately!)

As light was fading and I was starting to hurry to beat the darkness and get back home, I noticed a couple trash cans next to the end of the driveway and a large pile of perfectly folded up moving boxes—hundreds of dollars’ worth of pristine, heavy-duty cardboard just waiting for someone to take away, assemble and secure with some packing tape, and fill up with stuff. My response, in that moment, was to say to myself: “This is my manna from heaven!” Now, it was all too much for me to attempt to carry home, so I sped up my run, got home and into my car, and quickly drove the few blocks back to make sure I claimed my cardboard manna while I could.

At moment after moment in this wilderness time of journeying toward finding a new home here in Birmingham, God has provided in extravagant ways, beyond what I could have ever asked or imagined. And last night, when I saw the stack of moving boxes just waiting there on the ground, like the quail and manna on the ground and the water from the rock, I was reminded yet again of how much God loves us, cares for us, and provides for us—all the way down to the level of moving boxes. Thanks be to God!

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Recall a time when you felt hungry or thirsty or otherwise lacking something you needed to survive, whether for your physical, emotional, spiritual, or social well-being. What did you learn about yourself in that time of want? What did you learn about your relationships with others? What did you learn about your relationship with God?

Daily Challenge

Did you know that you can still eat manna today? Read more in this article from the New York Times.

You can learn more about the history of manna in Holy Scripture here.

Abide with the Jesus vine – April 27

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14, Exod. 15:22-16:10; 1 Pet. 2:1-10; John 15:1-11

In the excerpt from John 15 appointed for today, Jesus uses gardening to connect his faithful living analogies to those listening. I love this passage. It starts, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower.” Profound and simple, the imagery of this piece of the message is worth sitting with and reflecting upon.

Jesus is just beginning; he continues the metaphor. The gardener removes any branch that does not bear fruit. What could he be talking about? Perhaps it is those branches of malice, guile, insincerity, envy and slander – the ones that Saint Peter writes about in 1 Peter 2 that we read today. Those limbs and sticks are cut off totally and burned in the fire, for they detract our resources from what is good and meaningful and nourishing.

Jesus says each branch that is fruitful is also cut back or pruned, increasing its propensity to be more fruitful. And there is more: the benefit of bearing fruit is that it glorifies God, for all that is produced is brought into being with God’s lifeline, the Jesus vine.

Is there a secret fertilizer or soil amendment needed for these amazing results? Nope. Jesus says “Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.”

When we are grounded in the love of God, we are nourished by love. We are knee-deep in love. When we abide in love, all that we do can come from that place of love and wholeness and nurture. Whether we grew up knowing the agape-filled loam of God’s garden or found ourselves transplanted into the soil of flourishing, Jesus calls each of us to abide in that love – as branches of the Jesus vine.

The Healer and Redeemer of the world calls us to abide in this great love, so that our roots deepen and strengthen. So that even on days when doubt, disease, and drought are afoot, God’s love is holding us. We can still bear fruit and the burdens that are upon us.

Friends, doing this is not easy. There are days when we feel each branch has been cut and we are left with an empty trunk. There are days when it looks like we are with Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness of Shur, surrounded by bitterness and need. Even then, God is with us, faithful and reassuring, bearing our gripes and sadness. May the call to abide as a branch on the Jesus vine bring you hope and inspiration this day.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection 

What does the word “abide” bring up for you today? What other words come to mind when you think about abiding?

What does being fruitful look like for you?

 Daily Challenge

Thinking about fruitfulness, take time to write for five minutes. Reflect on what in your life is fruitful today. What needs pruning? What branches are taking energy but not producing fruit? Who in your network of support helps you name the healthy and unhealthy branches on your trunk?

Telling the Story - April 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7, Exod. 14:21-31; 1 Pet. 1:1-12; John 14:(1-7)8-17

Yesterday, a group of young people in grades two through four gathered to learn about the Holy Eucharist, an old tradition as these children are moving to the age where they begin to participate in the full church service as opposed to leaving for children’s chapel.  We began by gathering around the table (altar) and looking at the connection between a meal and church.  We come together, we pray, we share, and we listen, just like many other meals and gatherings.   Parents ask children to tell stories about their weeks, and hopefully, the family stories of the past sometimes near and sometimes quite distant are shared. 

We then went back in time and told the story of the Israelites’ deliverance out of Egypt, specifically the story that is read this morning in the lectionary.  “What does the parting of the Red Sea have to do with our faith today?” was the question I kept wondering if it would be asked.  One parent hinted at the question as the young people left to work on an art project.  Another parent asked about the plagues and the story of the Passover that proceed this story. These stories seem so distant from our faith, events that happened thousands of years ago, and yet they are mentioned every time someone is baptized and alluded to in the Eucharist.  For people of the Jewish faith, this story is told every time people gather for a Passover Seder dinner, a central part of the faith.

Something happens the more we tell a story.  It becomes closer to our own faith.  In the retelling of a story, the story becomes more of our own story.  It’s why some stories are told more than others at the dinner table.  The more we read a story, the more we tell the story, the more we begin to see our very own lives in the story.  The more we hear and tell the story of the parting of the Red Sea, the more we come to know that God will be with us and lead us through the depths of human pain and life to the promise of something better. 

Why do we read these stories that seem so distant from anything that we have ever experienced?  Because when life becomes more than we imagine that it could be, when the weight of what are experiencing seems too much, a reminder that God has led his people through much worse becomes our hope, and our salvation.

So tell the story.  And tell it again, and may you come to see your own life as a part of God’s larger story. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What stories do you tell over and over in your family?  How do those stories shape your own understanding of your family?  What stories do you not share?  What stories in the Bible are part of understanding your own story?

Daily Challenge:  Share with a friend or family member a story that is important to you.  Consider how you might tell the story and what details are important to you.  Consider why it is important to remember this story and how it shapes you too.

Seeing is Believing - April 22

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 136; PM Psalm 118; Exod. 13:1-2,11-16; 1 Cor. 15:51-58; Luke 24:1-12

Today’s Reflection
Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’ Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.  –Luke 24: 6-12

A friend shared an editorial cartoon on social media this Easter week, and maybe you’ve seen it, too. In the single frame, on the left are three women, wearing long tunics and head coverings, and then a few feet away, facing them, is a crowd of men, also wearing long tunics but with beards instead of head scarves. And underneath this scene is this caption: “So ladies, thanks for being the first to witness and report the resurrection and we’ll take it from here.” Sounds close to what we read today in Luke’s account of what happens when the women—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and others who were with them—came to the tomb to embalm Jesus’ body early on that third day after Jesus’ death on the cross.

These women, “who had come with Jesus from Galilee,” were in Jesus’ inner circle. They had come to carry out this final act of love for their dearly loved friend, to embalm his body for the tomb by lovingly applying the spices they had prepared for just this sacred purpose. But when they arrived, still so consumed by the freshness of their grief, they were shocked to find that Jesus’ body was not there. How could this be? Instead, they found the stone was rolled away, rather than sealing the entrance as they had expected. The women walked into the tomb, finding not the dead body of Jesus but rather were greeted by these two men in dazzling white (often understood to be angels). These two messengers remind the women, confused and afraid, of what they already knew but had forgotten in all the tragic circumstances of the preceding days: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”

The women then left the tomb to share this shockingly Good News to the other apostles—the men. Men who were probably still sleeping in those early morning hours—and possibly were in hiding, in the wake of Jesus’ crucifixion a few days before. What was their response? To say that what the women were sharing seemed merely “an idle tale.” Not believable.

Except to Peter, who “got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.” Peter believed that what the women shared was possible. Not an idle tale. Peter wanted to believe. But Peter also needed to see for himself. Peter needed to have his own experience of the risen Jesus—and when he experienced it himself, like the women, Peter, too, was amazed.

This Sunday we will read of another disciple, Thomas, who needed to see and feel evidence of the resurrected Jesus for himself. Over the centuries, Thomas has been looked down upon, called the doubting disciple. Each of us needs to have our own direct, personal experience of Jesus and the power of his resurrection for those who believe. The witness of the women, of how they came to know of Jesus’ resurrection is important—like them, we need to share what we have seen so that others will, like Peter, get up and run out to experience it for themselves. Needing to experience the powerful story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection for ourselves—to see with our own eyes, hear with our own ears, touch with our own hands, sense it with our own hearts—is nothing to be looked down upon. Needing evidence and direct experience doesn’t make us doubters—it just means that we want to believe.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Recall a time when you wanted to see something for yourself, or to hear something directly from the source. How did experiencing this with your own senses change your belief? Did it make you more likely to share what you saw or heard with others?

Daily Challenge

Read today’s account from Luke 24 alongside the Easter Sunday account from John 20. What do we gain by having both these accounts of first encounters with the risen Jesus?

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.