The Culture of Busyness - October 31

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Ecclus. 38:24-34; Rev. 14:1-13; Luke 12:49-59

Last week, I wrote our E-News reflection for tomorrow.   I usually try to have this piece finished by Thursday afternoon for the following week to provide balance for the at least two people who have hands in the E-News.  Unlike a reflection, it’s a shared effort.  Becky responded, “I worry when the letters get so lengthy that not everyone will read through to the end. I will do what I can to condense it.”  I share her worry.  We have two activities on Saturday morning, a parish clean-up day and a Holy Hike.  Confirmations and Baptisms on Sunday morning, a special lecture on Sunday evening, and a “Welcome Back” for the Cursillo community.  It’s impossible to be at two places at the same time, further exposing just how busy we are. 

In full disclosure, I love the vibrancy and joy of our community and the myriad of opportunities that create a sort of religious playground for people to grow in their faith. Talking with a couple after the Celtic Service last night, who chose to stay for our simple soup dinner for the first time, shared how much they are enjoying being a part of an active parish.

Our reading from the Wisdom of Sirach this morning begins with some cautionary advice.  “The wisdom of the scribe depends on the opportunity of leisure; only the one who has little business can become wise” (Ecclesiasticus 38:24).  There are two possibilities worth considering.  It might be possible the overabundance of activities in our community might be the necessary leisure activities for those who work too much in order to find wisdom.  We can be a church full of opportunities to capture the handful of moments where our overworked community can find rest, hospitality, and formation.  It is also possible that we are addicted to busyness.   

I’m not sure there is a clear answer between the two options, but it is worth considering for church staff, clergy, and our community that leisure looks different, and it’s necessary for meaningful growth within our own Christian identity.  What space can you make for leisure? In a world so focused on results, can you find the value of something that was historically viewed as producing nothing?  Maybe that is where we find the wisdom that comes from God.

John+ 

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What do you do for leisure?  What role does leisure play in your life?

Daily Challenge:  If you are looking for ideas read this fun reflection on how to stop being so busy all of the time.

'The joy of your saving help' - October 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Ecclus. 34:1-8,18-22; Rev. 13:1-10; Luke 12:13-31

Today’s Reflection

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from your presence
and take not your holy Spirit from me.
Give me the joy of your saving help again
and sustain me with your bountiful Spirit.

Psalm 51: 11-13

Athanasius observed how, “Among all the books, the Psalter has certainly a very special grace… that within it are represented and portrayed in all their great variety the movements of the human soul. It is like a picture, in which you see yourself portrayed and, seeing, may understand and consequently form yourself upon the pattern given.”

Some passages from Scripture we have heard or read so many times that they may lose their impact. Psalm 23 or 1 Corinthians 13 come to mind. Similarly, Psalm 51 is another passage that we have heard so many times that, on the one hand, we feel a certain comfort in its familiarity, and in that way we feel happy when encounter it again and again in our Common Prayer. 

At the same time, speaking from my own experience, I have read parts of Psalm 51 so often as part of Morning Prayer or the shorter Morning Devotion in the Book of Common Prayer that, in order for it to continue to wash its meaning over me in a way that lasts, I have to make myself stop and re-read it. I re-read it in part because I need to hear what it is saying to me and the way in which it is helping me to understand myself in relationship to God. 

But I also force myself to stop and re-read those lines more slowly, pausing between them to let them sink in, because I want what I am praying in those words to be my prayer:

Have mercy on me, O God… [pause] Cleanse me from my sin… [pause] Create in me a clean heart… [pause] Put a new and right spirit within me… [pause] Restore to me the joy of your salvation.

What we learn and find evidence for as we pray Psalm 51 is that our mistakes—our sins—hurt God because we are in relationship with God. As James Mays observes, “Only where people believe that their life is lived in the presence of God, is a gift of God, is summoned and measured, is responsible and accountable to the One who is the source of life—only there does sin as experience and language rise.”

So, when we read here in Psalm 51 that the psalmist has sinned against God alone, this tells us that the psalmist and God know each other. We cannot hurt someone (well, not as deeply, anyway) if we do not know them. So, whether we are talking about David repenting of his misdeeds, or of us repenting of something we “have done or left undone,” God knows about it, cares about it, and is disappointed about it because of being in relationship with us.

This reminds me of the dynamic when I feel disappointed when a family member or friend does something that runs counter to the expectations of how we treat one another in our family or friendship—or their disappointment when they see me not following through with something I promised I would do for them. If I never spoke to or interacted with them, then we would probably have less opportunity for conflict. The fact that we do disagree or disappoint or hurt one another does point to the fact that we are living with and actually interacting with each other—we have conflict and disappointment to repent and forgive because we are in relationship, because we have a closeness between us.

I see that I am constantly falling short in terms of patience and kindness—but I can admit my wrong and be forgiven, and I can model the same to them when they repent of whatever thing they “have done or left undone.” This allows us to have close relationships, even though we disappoint each other and make mistakes in how we treat each other every day.

Love is what allows us to hold in creative tension a close, caring relationship—between us and God, and between us and our neighbor—with sin, repentance, and, ultimately, forgiveness. Psalm 51 is about repentance. But Psalm 51 is mostly about love—the love of a God who wants to stay in relationship with us, his imperfect yet perfectly loved children. 

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Which lines in Psalm 51 resonate most with you? How do hear yourself and your own relationship with God reflected in the psalmist’s words to God?

Daily Challenge

Take some time today to reflect on what it might mean for God to create in you a clean heart and a right spirit. Would praying each day for God to renew your clean heart and right spirit change the way you approach the responsibilities and relationships entrusted to you?

"Hearken, all you who dwell" – October 26

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]
Ecclus. 28:14-26; Rev. 12:1-6; Luke 11:37-52

The psalm appointed for this afternoon is Psalm 49. The first verse begins, “Hear this, all you peoples; hearken, all you who dwell in the world…” It has me thinking about the sounds and sights going on about me as I write this reflection.

If you walked by our house this morning, you might see and hear several things going on. Our daughter is waiting by the stop sign for her bus to pick her up and deliver her to middle school. She is not terribly loud, especially at this hour of the day. She stands with a fresh face…calmly, serenely, ready to face another day of sixth grade.

If you walked by our house this morning, you could hear the barking of dogs. All people who dwell in our neighborhood cannot help but hear those utterances of enthusiastic canines. They bark for a variety of reasons: first, they are dogs. Other causes often include a neighbor cat who wanders about, passersby exercising with their pets, and the presence our son, perhaps the biggest reason for commotion. He loves to get ready early for school and go outside to run around and play. He chirps in a sing-song voice, “Let’s go, Pumpkin!”, clapping in rhythm to the chants.

Pumpkin is the little dog who lives next door. She scales the fence when she wants a doggie playdate and runs around in our yard, stirring up our dogs. Revelry commences each time. Our dogs are larger and louder; Pumpkin is nimbler. (When she is done with her fun, she scales the fence and goes back into her own yard.)

Upon hearing this morning’s dog chorus – that was a bit on the disruptive side – I peer out to observe the fun. Our six-year-old boy is standing in the raised garden bed and has cajoled Pumpkin to join him. Our two dogs stand outside the raised bed, wagging their tails and barking. Robinson smiles in the chaos.

Today my kids’ proclamation to the world is a bit different from what I see in the headlines. Their mouths speak of focused anticipation. Of playful jubilation. Of God’s hope. And we cover them in prayer as they begin a new day.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What are the noises around you this morning? What emotions do they bring up? What memories do they stir? Where do you feel gratitude?

Daily Challenge

There is much darkness in the news, reflecting the complexity of the world around us. Fast from the noise of news headlines today...or perhaps for a half-day. Instead, read and reflect on the psalms appointed for today. Be attentive to where God is stirring you to live faithfully and connectedly today.

God's Healing to Speak - October 24

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Ecclus. 19:4-17; Rev. 11:1-14; Luke 11:14-26

So much of Jesus’s ministry is focused on healing.  People who are crippled, blind, and unable to live into the fullness of life are restored to wholeness.  This is a fundamental part of the Christian story.  Today’s healing story is a little bit different with a person who is mute because of a demon.  The demon is cast out and the one who had been mute speaks.  The people are amazed.  The person has found their voice.  Maybe it is my imagination, but the story might not just be about speaking, but a person who learns to speak about the power of Christ and God’s unconditional healing and love.

I am writing a little later than usual this morning.  Last night, I returned from a three-day retreat as a part of the international Cursillo movement.  The Episcopal Diocese of Alabama has been offering these retreats to provide renewal for adults in the Episcopal Church since 1979.  I’ll be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to the weekend as much as I should have been, feeling the pressure of attending as more of a work obligation than balm for my soul. 

The retreat is beautiful, filled with moments of wonder and a recognition of the care, love, and prayer of others in tangible and meaningful ways.  In a practical sense, it is a series of talks given by lay people with a chance to reflect on those talks and to watch an entire community realize the beauty of the unconditional love of Christ through the hospitality of others.  If you think that sounds vague, it is, and it’s true, but it really doesn’t make sense until one experiences it. 

As we ended the weekend, each person who attended shared a moment of wonder about where they saw God in their life that weekend.  I was amazed by the words that each person offered, and how they touched my own life.  It was as if, God’s unconditional love gave voice to each person there to claim God’s love in their own lives. Two people shared how this weekend, taught them that the church had become their family, the healing power of the Body of Christ.  It was incredibly renewing and beautiful.

If you want to know more, I’d love to share it, or connect you to others so that you may have an experience like I did.  What I know to be true is that the power of God’s love to heal, renew, and give life is real.  And I am grateful for those encouraging voices who nudged me to attend. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where have you experienced healing in your own life?   

Daily Challenge:  You can learn more about Cursillo by watching this video. 

'Only one thing' - October 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; Ecclus. 11:2-20; Rev. 9:13-21; Luke 10:38-42

Today’s Reflection

Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.’ But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.’  —Luke 10:38-42

It’s a scene that may seem familiar to many of you: Someone arrives, perhaps unexpectedly perhaps not, at your home for dinner. I can recall times when we have had friends or family over for dinner, scurrying around, distracted by my many tasks, like Luke tells us that Martha was, so that my home would be clean and comfortable, and the meal would be warm and delicious for our special guests.

It’s interesting to notice the placement of the story of Jesus’ visit with Martha and Mary in the context of Luke chapter 10. Earlier in Luke 10, we hear Jesus telling the story of the Good Samaritan to explain what it means to love God and to love your neighbor as yourself. And as we continue on to Luke chapter 11, we’ll hear about how Jesus taught his friends to pray—what we know now as the Lord’s Prayer. Therefore, today’s account of Martha and Mary functions as a hinge between a story about loving God through action, as the Good Samaritan did, and a story about loving God through through prayer. This placement of the story of Martha and Mary seems appropriate because theirs is the story about the tension between the need, on the one hand, to be up and doing, as Martha was, by serving with our deeds, and the need, on the other hand, to be listening to what God is trying to teach us, as Mary was by sitting as Jesus’ feet. In this story, Jesus makes it clear that “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

While in the story of Martha and Mary we hear Jesus prioritizing the importance of stopping our frenetic busy-ness so that we can better listen to him and focus on what he is saying to us, if we think back to the previous story of the Good Samaritan, we hear Jesus in that parable prioritizing action. Oftentimes in Christian discourse we hear about this debate between action and contemplation, which should we be prioritizing in our daily lives as Christ followers? The message we are getting if we look at all three of these passages in Luke together—the Good Samaritan, Martha and Mary, and the Lord’s Prayer—is that we should be both people of action and people of contemplation.

In this brief encounter with Martha and Mary, we see glimpses of the two sides of a balanced life of servant leadership. As 17th century mystic St. Teresa of Avila put it, “Both Martha and Mary must entertain our Lord and keep Him as their Guest, nor must they be so inhospitable as to offer Him no food. How can Mary do this while she sits at His feet, if her sister does not help her.” Likewise, as St. Aelred of Rievaulx, abbot of a Cistercian monastery in Yorkshire observed in a sermon to his brother monks: “By no means should you neglect Mary for the sake of Martha, nor again Martha for the sake of Mary. For, if you neglect Martha, who will feed Jesus? If you neglect Mary, what benefit will it be to you that Jesus entered your house since you will have tasted nothing of his sweetness? Realize, brothers, that never in this life should these two women be separated.”

While over the years many readers of this passage have argued for the superiority of Martha’s action or the superiority of Mary’s contemplation, in fact, what is needful is to find a unity or a balance between action and contemplation. If we are to follow Christ, then we must continually look back to his example of a life that balances action and contemplation.

We never hear what happened after Jesus told Martha that Mary had chosen the better part. It seems likely that, upon hearing Jesus’ response, Martha had a moment of clarity and took a break to listen and learn at Jesus’ feet. Maybe Martha sat down, alongside her sister Mary to listen. Or perhaps Mary stood up and said to Martha, “Sister, you take my place at Jesus’ feet, I will get up to attend to the needs of our guests.”

May we carry the story of Martha and Mary with us as we each day we commit ourselves anew to follow Christ’s example of a life that balances contemplation with action, as well to a life in which we commit to being in partnership with our fellow Christ followers as give each other the mutual support to live lives of both contemplation and action.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

When you hear the story of Mary and Martha, do you find yourself identifying more with Mary or more with Martha? How do you (or could you) blend elements of both action and contemplation within your personal spiritual practices? How does (or could) Saint Stephen’s blend both action and contemplation into our corporate spiritual practices?

Daily Challenge

Richard Rohr says, “Prayer without action … can promote our tendency to self-preoccupation, and without contemplation, even well-intended actions can cause more harm than good.” Take some time today to learn more about the mission and activities of the Center for Contemplation and Action, founded by Rohr. Consider signing up for their emails, listening to their podcasts, or exploring their online course offerings.

Horns of every shape and kind – October 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48; Ecclus. 7:4-14; Rev. 8:1-13; Luke 10:17-24

I love Meredith Wilson’s “The Music Man”. As a kid watching the movie over and over, I would march and sing along as Robert Preston sang, “Seventy-six trombones led the big parade, with a hundred & ten cornets close at hand. They were followed by rows and rows, of the finest virtuosos, the cream of every famous band…” Hearing the brass instruments play made me smile with the din of excitement and anticipation.

Horns are not subtle, but declarative. When breath flows through their chambers, the emerging sound grabs our attention, rousing us from sleep with the notes of “Reveille,” the morning bugle call. We are called to a respectful posture when “Taps” is played, the signal for lights out at the end of a military day and at the funeral of a person who served in the U. S. Armed Forces.

The Revelation to John appointed for today also incorporates horns – trumpets to be precise. Angels play them. Those notes that blast forth from the heavenly chorus ring out to rouse humans from our sleep. They call us to a respectful posture…not to honor our compatriots who have died in service to our country. Rather, the horns blow to bring a respectful demeanor to the earth in the wake of the sacrifice of the Lamb, who is Christ Jesus. The ordered cacophony of seven trumpets ushers in destruction of a third of all creation (of which we read in chapter 8) and woe (in chapters 9-11). Angels sounding the trumpets in Revelation do not inspire us to march about and sing along with full hearts. These horns bring hard truths and prophetic promises. And it is dark.

Revelation is ordered as the final book in the New Testament and wraps up the Bible. What a way to wrap up this story of God’s people! This apocalyptic book of prophecy and social commentary presents vivid visions and descriptive language of action and mystery. There are bad guys, angels, special effects, and one hero – Jesus, who died and was resurrected. Much is to be interpreted and decoded in the metaphors and allusions. Some have made it their life’s work to unravel and understand the symbols and messages to be preached.

People in the second or third century of the Common Era would not feel my cognitive dissonance - a collision of nostalgia and terror - in pondering the echoes of brass instruments in the book of Revelation. The sounding of horns meant stark warnings. It was horns that we are told were blown for seven days to break down the walls of Jericho (Joshua 6). Trumpets were the terrifying battle warning that troops were heading in their enemy’s direction, ready to attack. These metallic tones were for warning, not entertainment. Fear, not joy.

Before the chaos of trumpets and the dark aftermath of destruction in Revelation today, there is silence and prayer (v. 1-4). What if, before the unknowns of your day unfold, you and I take time for silence and sit in prayer with God? Perhaps light a candle as a symbol of your prayer, watching the gentle smoke waft up to be joined with the prayers of the saints. (v. 3-4). This moment or two of stillness can prepare and center us before we enter what feel like assaults from every side. Let us be still for a moment, knowing that God is God, and we are not.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

How do you respond to chaos? Are you exhausted or invigorated? Is it a new challenge or a tangle of Christmas lights that perplexes you greatly?

Daily Challenge

Slow down today. Set aside time to focus on being in your body, still and breathing fully. Give thanks to God for being with you, no matter what. This can help prepare you for any chaos that will come.

Do not be Ashamed - October 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15; Ecclus. 4:20-5:7; Rev. 7:1-8; Luke 9:51-62

The other morning, one of our neighbors showed up a little earlier than expected (eight minutes after I had gotten out of bed on a school day, and 32 minutes before we were to leave.   His mother was in the shower and so he took that unsupervised opportunity to flee from their home, and all of a sudden before any coffee was consumed, our kitchen was filled with loud banter about Pokémon.  I crashed back into the bedroom, “Anne, can we have a rule about no Pokémon this early in the morning?!?”  And I thought in my head, “why do they play those stupid cards that make absolutely no sense.”

I’m not sure why I was so irritated. Maybe I was irritated because the house was much louder than I am used to at 6:58 in the morning. Maybe I was irritated because I don’t get Pokémon and the kids are always talking about the trading cards and they are weird. Or maybe it was all due to not having a cup of coffee yet.  Why can’t I just enjoy the uniqueness of my children and what brings them and their friends joy?

I thought of this story as I read the wisdom from Ecclesiasticus also known as Sirach which our passage begins, “do not be ashamed to be yourself.” I worry if I want my children to grow up faster than they should, and what I witnessed too early in the morning was an unabashed joy in being a child.  Yes, the trading card conversation could have waited until later in the morning, but do wonder if we often subconsciously place expectations on others that run the risk of leading someone to be ashamed for enjoying the moments of wonder that shape who they are?

It's a little drastic leap, but we all receive all sorts of messages that shape and inform our consciousness about who we should be, what sort of things we should enjoy, and how we should act.  Some of this is helpful.  I was reminiscing about our colleague, Bob.  My friend and Bob were out to eat in downtown Chattanooga.  I am guessing they both had their collars on.  My friend was surprised when the waitress asked for prayers, Bob stood up in the restaurant and took her hands, and led the three of them in prayer. He didn’t offer the platitude of, “yes, I’ll pray for you.”  He stood up unashamed in public and offered what the needy waitress desired.  It was a moving experience for my friend too, another fellow clergy colleague who would have handled the situation differently. 

“Watch for the opportune time, and beware of evil, and do not be ashamed to be yourself.”  And maybe we should help others be themselves too.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What stories and experiences did this reflection bring up?  When have you been ashamed for who you are?  When have you embraced who you are?

Daily Challenge:  In your prayers today, give thanks for the things that make you unique.  Specifically name those things that you think might be a little quirky.

Lingering on the Mountaintop - October 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 22; Ecclus. 1:1-10,18-27; Acts 28:1-16; Luke 9:28-36

Today’s Reflection

Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings,* one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’—not knowing what he said. Luke 9: 28-33

You’re likely familiar with the phrase “mountaintop experience.” It means an experience that is inspiring, renewing, transforming—something that seems very different than our day to day life. A mountaintop experience can feel like we have gotten to experience, if even for a brief moment on our life, a glimpse of what heaven might be like. We feel closer to God. We may feel a greater sense of clarity. We may feel a sense of abiding peace. We may feel surrounded and filled with love.

When we get to experience life on the mountaintop, if only for a few moments or hours or days, and we know that it is possible to feel renewed and transformed in this way, it’s only natural that we never want to let it go. It’s natural that we would want to find some way to keep it going, to linger in that little piece of heaven as long as we can, and maybe even make it our home forever.

Maybe you have experienced this in a retreat or a vacation or in a reunion with close friends. I experience a tiny glimpse of this whenever I go for a walk or hike in a beautiful place like my favorite beach in Florida or in a favorite botanical garden, whether here in Birmingham or others I love to visit elsewhere. Or when I travel some place that I love, or have an experience that is spiritually deep or intellectually stimulating, I want to keep that sense of being more attuned and more alive going.

This past week, I was able to take a few days away to travel on my own to North Carolina. While there I got to have a mountaintop experience of sorts. I had the chance to go hear a favorite author and podcaster speak in person. I stayed a couple days with a friend who I have known since I was a college freshman, and to catch up with her over dinner each evening. And I got to immerse myself in a pastors’ conference at Duke Divinity in which I could hear more from very smart people who are thinking deeply and creatively and compassionately about our Christian faith. To top it all off, I took lingering walks in the beautiful Sarah Duke Gardens, on the Duke campus, all three of the days I was there. On that last afternoon, I even found a sunny spot on the South Lawn of the garden and took a little nap using my backpack as a pillow as I stretched out in the grass watching the students and families enjoying this peaceful corner of the campus.

These few days way on this adventure on my own felt renewing and life giving. And as much as I love it here, it was also hard to return to daily life and all my usual responsibilities. And so I understand why Peter and James and John wanted to build little huts there on the mountain so they could keep that moment of transfiguration with Jesus and Moses and Elijah going. If I could have built a little cottage or even pitched a little tent in the Sarah Duke Gardens, maybe right there in the edge of that sunny meadow, I would have been tempted to stay. But as the afternoon was growing late on Tuesday, I knew it was time for me to say goodbye to that mountaintop experience, at least for now, and make my way home to do the work God has given me do here. But we need to be sure we make time and space in our lives to go the mountaintop, at least from time to time, to remind ourselves of what is most important and to reconnect ourselves with the face of God.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Tell about a conversation or a retreat or some other experience that you did not want to end. What was it about that moment in time that allowed you to feel you had a glimpse of heaven, or to be transformed and renewed in your faith?

Daily Challenge

Look for a few hours or even a few days in your calendar when you can be intentional about making time for a mountaintop experience. You don’t have to stumble into a mountaintop experience acccidentally—you’re more likely to have one if you make the time for it.

Crying out to God – October 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14; Jonah 1:17-2:10; Acts 27:9-26; Luke 9:1-17

Do you ever have a day when you say, “Uncle! Enough! This is so hard!”?

Maybe today is one of those mornings when you wake up achy, exhausted, and foggy. The sunlight is filtered and dim, hiding its rousing energy. Nevertheless, you muster enough forward motion to get up and ready for what is ahead. Nothing feels like it is working. And maybe you must keep all of that bottled up inside, because others are expecting you to keep things moving and functioning. Your spouse has needs. Kids have needs. Coworkers have needs. Those around you have expectations and rely on you.

I am reminded of a song from a movie that came out in 2021. Called “Surface Pressure”, it was featured in the Disney film “Encanto”. Stressors and demands in the family fall upon the shoulders of Luisa the eldest, and she is so strong…until she cannot go anymore.

And then, the breaking point comes. Snap. Crackle. Pop. Over something relatively inconsequential. The burden feels so heavy and sad.

It is in these times that we cry out for God, feeling humbled, low, and alone. Psalms 12, 13, and 14 (appointed to be read this afternoon) speak to these points in our days and lives when we feel desperate, wondering how much longer we must feel the strain. In these moments, we call to God in prayer. Perhaps we even wonder where God is in all the chaos and rubble.

The psalmist writes of isolation and mistrust: “Help me, Lord, for there is no godly one left; the faithful have vanished from among us. Everyone speaks falsely with his neighbor; with a smooth tongue they speak from a double heart.” (Ps. 12:1-2) In the prayer, God answers, “Because the needy are oppressed, and the poor cry out in misery, I will rise up,” says the Lord, “and give them the help they long for.” (Ps. 12:5)

In Psalm 13, he continues in desperation: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long shall I have perplexity in my mind, and grief in my heart, day after day? How long shall my enemy triumph over me? Look upon me and answer me, O Lord my God; give light to my eyes, lest I sleep in death…” (v. 1-3)

On days when we feel that our worldview is quite bleak, Psalm 14 meets us in that low place. “The fool has said in his heart, "There is no God." All are corrupt and commit abominable acts; there is none who does any good. The Lord looks down from heaven upon us all, to see if there is any who is wise, if there is one who seeks after God. Every one has proved faithless; all alike have turned bad; there is none who does good; no, not one.” (v. 1-3)

If you are in a low place today, do not bottle up your negative emotions. Sit with these psalms of heavy feeling and honesty. Allow that weight to pour out and rest with God. Faithful people for more than two thousand years have prayed these hard psalms that put voice to the stirrings in our hearts and the burdens on our minds. You are not alone in your struggles, beloved child of God.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What situations and people push you to your limit? How do these times help you know yourself more and strengthen you? Where is God in this?

Daily Challenge 

If you are feeling under great pressure today, set aside fifteen minutes to slow down. Pray to God for help. If you cannot find the words, pray the words of Psalms 12 through 14.

Write about what is weighing on you, or call a trusted confidante and share your concern with them. Ask someone to pray for you.

'Peoples shall stream to it' - October 7

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 140, 142; PM Psalm 141, 143:1-11(12); Micah 3:9-4:5; Acts 24:24-25:12; Luke 8:1-15

Today’s Reflection

In days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised up above the hills. Peoples shall stream to it, and many nations shall come and say: ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.’ For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.

He shall judge between many peoples, and shall arbitrate between strong nations far away; they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more; but they shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid; for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken.  —Micah 4: 1-4

We’ve experienced many things since the shooting, loss of life, and ensuing trauma in our Parish Hall on June 16. We’ve experienced the things you would expect yet can never really prepare for fully until you are in the midst of it—like great grief for the loss of those we loved, and real trauma (or woundedness) in our minds and spirits, which may also manifest in physical symptoms in our bodies. How we experience this grief and trauma varies from person to person, but this is something that takes much time and tender care to work through, and something we should not try to rush past in our desire for normalcy and healing.

Related to that, we have also experienced beautiful kindness and generosity of spirit—both from people and churches we already knew, and from people and churches we never knew before, or didn’t know as well. There’s something about going through something challenging and sad and lifechanging that has the potential to draw people closer to one another.

One thing that has been beautiful yet very unexpected are the many new people who have come to worship with us and join our community of Christ followers over these past four months. Today’s reading from Micah reminds me of this phenomenon:

“In days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised up above the hills. Peoples shall stream to it, and many nations shall come and say: ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.’”

People will stream to it. When people see the many ways in which the love and mercy and grace of God have surrounded and filled this community of Saint Stephen’s over these past four months, they are drawn to that light and warmth as we walk with one another in the love of Christ. But notice what Micah says after the part about people streaming to the house or mountain of the LORD: “that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” Yes, it’s important to come to the mountain to worship God. And when we come, we are to come with, to use an old-fashioned phrase, ‘a teachable spirit.’ We come to the mountain so that we may learn God’s ways and how we may more faithfully walk in his paths.

As we come together at Saint Stephen’s, streaming together to share in worship and community, whether we have been here for years, are returning after a time away, or are brand-new, let us spur one another on and commit ourselves to coming with hearts and minds and spirits who want God to teach us his ways that we may walk in his paths.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Recall a time when you were drawn to a community, a church, or a person that encouraged you in your life and faith. What was it about that community or church or person that drew you to them? Warmth? Openness? Honesty? Kindness? Gentleness? What was it that drew you to our church community? What keeps you connected with others in following God?

Daily Challenge

Anderson Cooper just started a new podcast called All There Is, inspired by his experience of grief over the course of losing his father at a young age (when Anderson was 10), his brother as a young man (when he was 21), and his mother Gloria more recently (three years ago). I encourage you to listen to all the episodes as we continue to grapple with our own experience of grief and trauma, but especially commend his conversation with comedian Stephen Colbert, who lost his father and two of his brothers when he was 10 years old as well. It’s not a funny conversation in any way, but it is a very honest and meaningful conversation that is well worth your time.

Healing - October 5, 2022

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:145-176; PM Psalm 128, 129, 130; Micah 2:1-13; Acts 23:23-35; Luke 7:18-35

This week I have been thinking about Jesus’ miraculous healings.

In a town called Nain, Jesus saw a widow mourning the death of her son. Jesus had compassion on her and said, “Do not weep.” Then, Jesus touched the cot that held the dead man, being borne from the town. Jesus said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” That boy sat up and began to speak! The mother received her son, once more alive. (Luke 7:11-15)

When Jesus and his friends came to Bethsaida, a blind man was brought to him. Going to a space away, Jesus put saliva on the man’s eyes and laid hands upon him. He asked, “Can you see anything?” The man said, “I can see people, but they look like trees walking.” Jesus again laid hands upon the man’s eyes. The man looked around – his sight was restored and he could see clearly. (Mark 20:22-25)

In the gospel appointed for today, John the Baptizer’s friends are sent to Jesus, asking “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” He has just cured many maladies and cast out evil spirits. Jesus sends them back to the prophet, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me.” (Luke 7:18-23)

Imagine what healing you would ask for from Jesus. What healing would Jesus bring to your family and neighbors? What healing are you praying for in our community and world?

I long for a quick healing from the grief generated by the tragedy this summer at Saint Stephen’s. If only there was a real and lasting, immediate resolution of discomfort and pain. If only the hurts and tears of those who are grieving could dry up in a snap.

It is not that easy. It is a long road. We are on that road together, and Jesus walks with us.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you seen a remarkable healing? When you are hurting, how do you pray for God to be present with you?

Daily Challenge

Sit in prayer for 10 minutes. Pray to God for healing. Sit in the Divine Presence and listen for where healing with God will open and change you.

Finding Balance in our Inner Critic - October 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 106:1-18; PM Psalm 106:19-48; Hosea 14:1-9; Acts 22:30-23:11; Luke 6:39-49

Two extremes come to mind.  On one hand, the person who is hypercritical of all others, whom no one can live up to their expectations, and who is always finding fault in the other.  The other applies the same wisdom to their own lives being the worse inner critic causing a harshly negative view on the existence of one’s own life, and yet they can see others with profound optimism exacerbating the shame of their own life. Most of us probably know a few who live in the extremes, and maybe less charitably have found ourselves from time to time, pushed in one direction or another. 

Like most things in life, balance is key.  Today’s text is a parable from Luke where Jesus tells those gathered, “Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye…when you do not see the log in your own eye?”  He is talking about the people who are overly critical of others.  And yet is it possible that we become so overwhelmed with the log in our own eye, that we fail to see our own capacity to share God’s love with this world?  Jesus does remind us in the parable that no good tree bears bad fruit and that a good person out of the good treasure of the heart produces good.  He isn’t offering an impossible standard, but a way and a real possibility for us all. 

I was struck by the words of Heather King in a reflection this week through the Center for Action and Contemplation who illustrates this point quite beautifully.  “We can try, at great personal sacrifice, to be perfectly righteous, a perfect friend, perfectly responsive, perfectly available, perfectly forgiving. But at the heart of our efforts must lie the knowledge that, by ourselves, we can do, heal, or correct nothing. The point is not to be perfect, but to “perfectly” leave Christ to do, heal, and correct in us what he wills.” 

We don’t have to be perfect, nor do our neighbors, friends, colleagues, or critics.  Be kind to yourself, and others too.  The answer is often found in the balance.  And so is Christ, there to transform our hearts and help the fruit of our works be good. 

John+ 

Questions for Self-Reflection:  When have you seen the strongest critic coming out in yourself?  What are the themes, reasons, and situations that cause this critic to emerge?  Is it warranted or is some self-reflection on today’s reading helpful?

Daily Challenge: Read the reflection from Heather King today.

A Level Place - September 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; Hosea 10:1-15; Acts 21:37-22:16; Luke 6:12-26

Today’s Reflection

Now during those days he went out to the mountain to pray; and he spent the night in prayer to God. ... He came down with them and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them. Luke 6: 12, 17-19

In today’s Gospel, Luke sets the scene for Jesus preaching a sermon that begins with a series of blessings that we now know as the Beatitudes. Just before this, Jesus had spent the night away from others, up on a mountain, praying to God all night. When day broke, he called together his disciples and chose the twelve who he would name apostles (Luke 6: 12-16). Then all of them came down from the mountain, and Jesus “stood on a level place” to speak to a “great multitude … who came to hear him and to be healed of their diseases.”

Jesus, rather than standing up above the crowd, has chosen to speak to them from their level. He who is divine and lifted up is choosing to come down to the crowd’s level, to speak from among them, which seems like an apt analogy for the message he has for them in this series of four blessings and four woes. One of the main, recurring themes in the Gospel of Luke, according to scholars, is something called “the great reversal.” This is what we hear Jesus preaching in this sermon. As one commentator explains, when Luke highlights Jesus’ message “in which the last are becoming first, the proud are being brought low and the humble are being exalted, Luke places great emphasis on God’s love for the poor, tax collectors, outcasts, sinners, women, Samaritans, and Gentiles.  … many of the episodes that appear only in Luke’s Gospel feature the welcome of the outcast” (ESV Study Bible).

Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, highlights key aspects of pastoral care, all of which work together to “make my [God’s] joy complete” as we seek to be “in full accord,” having “the same mind” and “the same love” with another. As I “look to the interests of others,” I am challenged to “let the same mind be in [me] as was in Christ Jesus,” who “emptied himself” as he “humbled himself.” The focus must be on the interests of the one seeking pastoral care. Second, it’s important to “stand on a level place” alongside those seeking care. In Luke 6, we see how Jesus: “came down with them and stood on a level place.” What a clear model we as pastoral care providers are given when God, incarnate as Jesus, chose to “stand on a level place” with those seeking his care. The bishop’s address to the ordinand states: “In all that you do, you are to nourish Christ’s people from the riches of his grace, and strengthen them to glorify God in this life and in the life to come.” (BCP 531). Throughout the ordination liturgy, we hear repeated this theme of encouraging and incubating the people in the circle of our care.

Richard Burridge, in his consideration of Jesus’ pastoral ministry observes that, “Luke depicts Jesus as almost constantly available, meeting people on the roadside or by the lake shore, in houses or synagogues—and always having time to give them, asking them what they want, and trying to meet their needs or heal their sufferings.” However, achieving this balance between seeming constant availability with being faithful to our other life commitments is crucial. While Burridge highlights Jesus’ accessibility, it is also important to notice that Jesus also took time away from his disciples and the many people seeking his teaching and healing, withdrawing to quiet places to pray alone. In my own life, I seek to balance time providing care for others with continuing to care for myself—whether that be through time alone in prayer, time spent outdoors, time with a counselor or spiritual director, time at home with my family, time connecting with friends, or time spent walking, or running, or reading, or just watching something I like on television. As they always tell us before an airline flight takes off, you must first put on your own oxygen mask before turning to place a mask on your child or someone else needing assistance.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

When has someone come down to a level place to connect more meaningfully with you?

When have you had to make a conscious choice to withdraw to a quiet place so that you could better handle the demands placed upon you by your responsibilities to others?

Daily Challenge

Find at least half an hour today or this weekend to withdraw to a quiet place to renew your strength and reconnect with God.

Change is hard - September 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144
Hosea 4:11-19; Acts 21:15-26; Luke 5:27-39

When I was growing up, we lived in an old two-story house built in the 1910s in Old Cloverdale, a neighborhood in Montgomery. The wooden floors were creaky and the ceilings were high. When it was time to come downstairs for breakfast or to get out the door for carpool, Mom would call up to us from the sunroom. Her voice would reverberate up the cast-iron spiral staircase and bounce down the hallway to summon my sisters and me. Virginia was generally the first to respond and get ready. Wayles would dawdle and make her way downstairs. Though the oldest, I was always the last to get ready. Wet-headed and shoes in my hands, I would run barefooted to the car. I was always the hardest to get to move on to the next thing. I resisted changing direction…even if that looked like going toward a good thing, like Eggo waffles.

In the gospel passage appointed for today, we hear stories of change. There is the inspiring story of Matthew the tax collector (here called Levi) and his story of answering Jesus’ call, “Follow me!” Others around the scene did not so readily drop everything and transform. The Pharisees and scribes – religious Temple folks who ascribed to many rules and jumped through many hoops of piety – muttered and grumbled to Jesus’ followers, asking “Why do you eat and drink with tax-collectors and sinners?”

We have record of how Jesus addressed this question…perhaps he overheard the complaints or got word of them from others. He answers, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance.”

Jesus offered stories and guidance about change. “No one tears a piece from a new garment and sews it on an old garment; otherwise the new will be torn, and the piece from the new will not match the old.” In this and the parable about the wine and wineskins – and the wisdom of not mixing them - Jesus acknowledged that to start a new thing with old knowledge is probably the hardest conversion.

That is where prayer and support for one another is so important. To turn away from what we know and lean into trusting God more fully, we need a community to lift us, encourage us, love us. If you were on the Saint Stephen’s physical mailing list this spring, then you may have received a postcard recently, letting you know that you were prayed for this summer. When we planned the “Summer of Prayer” initiative to pray for each household, we had no idea of the big changes that would take place in our community. We had no inkling that tragedy would strike and we would be rocked to our core in loss. We had no clue. And yet, we prayed for each name on our rosters. Prayers can help us and those around us in the middle of changing times. Join me in praying for all of those affected by the changes and chances of this moment, for we are all in need of Jesus the Healer and Redeemer.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What change is the hardest for you? How do members of your family respond to change?

How does your faith move and change?

Daily Challenge

Spend time in prayer today for the changes in your sphere. Pray for others who resist change. Ask God to open your ears and heart to be receptive as you are called to follow Jesus.

We all have something to learn - September 26

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52; Hosea 2:14-23; Acts 20:17-38; Luke 5:1-11

There is certainly a deeply embedded theological truth about the power of God in today’s Gospel message, but the story also provides some practical wisdom too.  Simon and some of the other disciples are gathered on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. They have been fishing all night and are washing their equipment before putting it away. They know about their craft and how to take care of what provides their source of living.  I’m guessing they are better at catching fish than most of us.  I certainly wouldn’t be giving out advice.

And so, they get into the boat with the ragged carpenter/itinerate preacher, and Jesus teaches them something about fishing.  Luke’s description of this miracle is “they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break.”  People from other boats had to come and help them rake in their catch. The story certainly points to another miracle and just how special Jesus is, helping the reader to understand why the disciples would drop everything to follow him.  But a very simple truth is also conveyed – we all have something to learn. 

Here are fishermen, masters of their craft, learning about fishing from a carpenter. It might be a miracle, but it exposes a fundamental truth about humanity – we all have something to learn.  And sometimes it can be enormously beneficial to broaden our horizons and to look for teachers and mentors who have nothing to do with our professions or don’t run in our social circles.  It’s about leading with a sense of humility because every person could be a teacher in some new way.

I have struggling last week with the profoundly difficult message in the Gospel proclaimed at most churches yesterday.  In Luke chapter 16, a rich man finds himself in eternal anguish begging to be relieved by the poor beggar he avoided his entire earthly life. The rich man calls out in his pain, “Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames (Luke 16:24b).”  The poor beggar who the rich man has failed to see all throughout his life, has something to offer him that will change his life.  In a more generous approach to this difficult passage, I’m wondering who I am missing in my life, and what they have to offer for my own healing, growth, and wellbeing in this world.

Without a doubt, our Gospel for today is about the power of God, but we also must be open to learning from those we may not have seen value before.  Who can teach us what it means to be a faithful person – a carpenter, a wandering nomad, a friend, a child, a coworker, the marginalized teenager, the radical? 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: When has someone taught you something and you weren’t expecting it?  Did you realize it then or much later?  What role does that person play in your life now?

Daily Challenge: Identify someone in your proximity that you want to learn from.  Pick someone younger than you to make it a challenge.

Matthew: The Gift of the Lord – September 21

Today’s Readings: AM: Psalm 119:41-64; Isaiah 8:11-20; Romans 10:1-15; PM: Psalm 19, 112; Job 28:12-28; Matthew 13:44-52

Today is the feast of Saint Matthew, remembered by the Church as an apostle and evangelist. He told the stories of Jesus. He shared the words of Jesus. His life did not start that way, though. He was raised amid the Roman establishment and served as a tax collector. In a world of “haves” and “have-nots”, he was in the former camp.

And then one day Jesus was walking and saw this tax collector sitting at a tax collection post, and said to him, "Follow me." And the man stood up and followed Him and became one of His twelve apostles. His name was different then, perhaps called Levi, if we go by what Mark and Luke wrote of his answering Jesus’ call. Matthew means “gift of the Lord” in Hebrew. Matthew’s ministry and dedication continue to be a gift of God to us, calling us into the life and legacy of Jesus.

That legacy is one that teaches us the message of God to the prophet Hosea: “I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.” (6:6) Jesus offers the point to ponder in this way to the Pharisees when they see Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners: “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have come to call not the righteous but the sinners.” (Matthew 9:13)

God knows that we hunger and seek fulfilment. God knows that the void within us can be filled with the grace and joy of the Divine Presence. And yet, it is hard to get there. So, we continue to practice faithful living, through thoughts, words, and deeds. It is in the confession of sin that we pray to get realigned with God, naming the thoughts, words, and deeds that take us away from the Lord.

Jesus calls out, “Follow me!” – looking at all of humanity. There are moments when we are painfully aware that we need that salvific, amazing grace. Jesus is calling out to each of us. May Saint Matthew, the gift of the Lord, continue to inspire us to stand up to seek the kingdom of heaven. 

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection: 

 When making a big, life-changing choice, do you jump in 100% - like quitting "cold turkey", or do you make a gradual change?

Who has invited you into a space of mercy and grace? How did you respond?

Daily Challenge: 

Tell the story of your calling as a Christian: Write down how you came to follow Jesus. Who was there? Where were you? What was life like for you at that time? What changes did you make

Necessary for Survival - September 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Esther 4:4-17 or Judith 7:1-7, 19-32; Acts 18:1-11; Luke (1:1-4),3:1-14

“For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.”

These words are an awakening for Esther. Thrust into a position of leadership, her people face annihilation. It is one of the more challenging stories in Scripture. The Jewish people are in exile, and in this story are facing genocide due to the plot of the evil Haman. To become the queen, Esther has assimilated, undergoing the first known case of plastic surgery in the Bible (she disfigures her face to look like the people and hide her Jewish roots) and now she must claim her Jewish identity in order to save her people. The thrust of Esther is contained in this passage acknowledging that the threat of failing to acknowledge our identity is annihilation. 

A few weeks have passed since I watched my hometown engulfed in metaphorical flames. A niece of friends of mine murdered. Random shootings and murders posted on Facebook live blocks from my family moments before logging onto a Fantasy Football draft with friends in lockdown due to those same shootings. Anger boiling underneath the surface and words of fear muttered in my own home, overheard by scared children.  

A night or two passed, and I watched tens of thousands of people around the world light candles, lace up running shoes, and host prayer vigils, even here in Birmingham. A friend witnessed the same in Aspen, Colorado. There is always light and hope, even in the depths of despair. 

That is the Christian witness. We find hope in a man crucified on a cross because love has the power to overcome the cruelest and most heinous violence known in our existence. As I watched my own anger boil from the events of a few weeks past, Esther has timely wisdom. The threat of failing to acknowledge our identity is annihilation. As Christians, we cannot survive if we fail to see our capacity to love, rooted in God’s love for us, as our defining ethic for living. We must always be grounded in compassion, sacrifice, forgiveness, and love because that is what it means to follow Jesus. And if we do not reveal our identity, we cease to survive. I’d go as far as to say, we cease to be human, at least not what God intended for us. 

Our identity is not only how we want to be seen but is necessary for our survival. That identity that changes when we are Baptized is the sustaining source of our very lives. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How does your identity as a Christian shape your life?  What practices are intentional as a result of your Christian identity?

Daily Challenge:  Esther is one of the books that is easy to read in one sitting.  If you have twenty minutes or so, read the book of Esther. 

'The waters have risen up to my neck' - September 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Esther 1:1-4,10-19 or Judith 4:1-15; Acts 17:1-15; John 12:36b-43

Today’s Reflection

This past Saturday, a friend and I drove down to Montgomery to visit the Legacy Museum and the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, which are part of the Equal Justice Initiative. I am embarrassed to say that it took me over two years living in Alabama, only an hour and a half away from Montgomery, to make the time to visit these two very significant places. It was on my mind to visit when I first moved here in 2020, but soon I got swept up into the busy-ness of my work and daily life and the hopes to make pilgrimage there kept being put off.

The Legacy Museum traces the history of people sold into slavery in West Africa, forced to make their way across the Atlantic shackled in the holds of ships in what historians call the Middle Passage, and then make their way onto dry land as enslaved people in South America, the Caribbean islands, and the United States. This history should be important to everyone, regardless of race, whether your ancestors were enslaved, slaveholders, or people with no seeming connection to it all. This history is especially important to me, whose family has lived in the South since the 1600s, because I see that whether my family were slaveholders or not (some were and weren’t), no one in the United States at that time was untouched or unaffected by the holding of other people in forced labor. This history is so important to me that much of the teaching and writing I did as a professor focused on understanding the continuing legacy of ‘the Peculiar Institution’ on our sense of regional identity and on how we get along with people across difference—racial, gender, socioeconomic, and otherwise—moving forward.

When you enter the museum space, you are oriented to follow a chronological path through the museum—and once you begin, you must keep moving through the heavy and painful history portrayed. There is no escape. There is no turning back. This seems apt in light of the fact that once people were swept up into this history and sent across the Atlantic as chattel slaves, there was no escape, no turning back—at least not without severe consequences. I don’t want to give too many of the details away in this reflection, as I feel it’s important for you to experience the museum and memorial for yourself. Today’s psalm reminds me of a powerful artistic installation, early on in the path through the museum, which I hope you will experience for yourself if you haven’t already.

As you enter the museum, you come into a room with large screens that envelope you in the waves of the Atlantic—you see them and you hear them, in all their vastness and power. You see screens on the side walls of the room that show the movement of enslaved people from West Africa across the Atlantic over the centuries of the slave trade, noticing the patterns of where the slaves were sent and how the flow of people increased over time.

From there you walk into a room that is also a depiction of the ocean—but in this next room, you are on the beach, where the waves have swept in people from across the sea. On each side of the walkway are many busts of individuals meant to depict enslaved people. You only see from the neck up, and they are down at floor level, with the lights and the setting evoking hundreds of people who are up to their necks in the water and the sand:

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. —Psalm 69: 1-4

As you continue through the museum, you learn more—an overwhelming amount of information and images—about the history of African Americans and the many struggles they faced through slavery, Reconstruction, Jim Crow segregation, and with continued discrimination and race-based violence and inequities to this day. But you also learn about the ways that, in the face of all this suffering and injustice, many have held on tightly to their great faith in God. How in the face of such suffering and trauma, ongoing over lifetimes and generations of people, can there also be such undying faith in God? This is one of the many wonderings I held in my heart and mind as I left the Legacy Museum last Saturday.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

When have you felt imprisoned by something? When have you seen no way out of suffering? How have you held onto hope when all around you seemed hopeless?

Daily Challenge

Learn more about the work of the Equal Justice Initiative and consider visiting the Legacy Museum and National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery.

Confess. Proclaim. Share. – September 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Job 42:1-17; Acts 16:16-24; John 12:20-26

This past Sunday, there was a baptism at the 11:15am service. A vocal and engaging infant was washed in the waters of baptism and became the newest member in the Christian church at that moment. Chrism (blessed oil) was put on her head in the sign of a cross, a symbol that she is forever sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever. In unison the congregation welcomed Ware and offered words of wisdom to her: “We receive you into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.”

Today, that congregational response to the newly baptized person resonates with me in a refreshed tone. There is acknowledgement of the entrance into this family of the Lord. And then, together the people say three declarative statements about what it means to be a Christian.

Confess the faith of Christ crucified. In these words, we remind others and challenge ourselves to believe in and talk about our faith in Jesus. And it is more complicated than that. It’s not just a faith based on Jesus the victor and king. It is a faith of humility – Christ crucified. We say those words to remind ourselves that there is a great cost paid by God’s Son. There is a cost in following Jesus and serving God through him. We are called to own boldly the faith we have in Jesus the Christ, the one long-promised, and to remember Jesus’ words in John 12:25 when he said, “Those who love their life will lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” We are challenged to have the faith of Jesus, too. This is a goal that we keep stretching toward, and not one that we attain without God’s grace lifting us and meeting us right where we are.

Proclaim his resurrection. In these words, we encourage one another to talk about the resurrection of Jesus…that death did not and cannot stop the power of God through Jesus. In proclamation, we retell the story to all who will listen, encouraging and declaring Jesus the victor over pain and death. After all, Jesus is the one who rose from the grave and walked among the people, revealing to them the wounds in his hands and side. He met his disciples on the beach and had a breakfast picnic with them. He comforted his grieving friend Mary Magdalene and told her not to hold on to him too tightly, for he had not yet ascended to his Father in heaven. Jesus revealed to the people of his day, and to us, wonder upon wonder…and we get to keep telling those stories of miraculous awe, that are far beyond parlor tricks and spirited divination.

Share with us in his eternal priesthood. This closing statement is a powerful one – an invitation to the newly baptized. Join together with the wide and loving Christian family. Tell us more about yourself, and we will tell you about our own stories. And we gather in this time of sharing, centered around the never-ending guidance of Jesus the priest and pastor…the leader who will not disappear, move on, get sick, or make missteps. Being a Christian in the Episcopal Church means that the people constitute the Body of Christ…and in baptism, each of us joins the priesthood of all believers. We all are invited and empowered to serve Jesus, made worthy through God’s amazing grace.

The sacrament of baptism is a beautiful entrance rite into the household of God. The promises and prayers we make are big ones, and we get to reaffirm them when others are baptized, too. If you want to know more about baptism, or would like for your child or grandchild to be baptized, I will be teaching a class at Saint Stephen’s on Sunday, September 25 at 10:15am, preparing people and answering questions you have.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When you hear this congregational response after baptism, what resonates with you?

What is the crescendo for you in a service of baptism?

Daily Challenge

Ponder what it means to you to make the sign of the cross. Would you like to read more about this act of personal piety? Here is a link to a lengthy, fascinating piece on Holy Cross Day and the history of the cross: http://satucket.com/lectionary/Holy_Cross.htm.

Our Sanitized Lens - September 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Job 40:1-24; Acts 15:36-16:5; John 11:55-12:8

This past week, I launched my reading group again after a three-month summer hiatus.  We read a variety of books, usually nonfiction, but not always, and ranging on any number of unusual topics. Not all are religious and yet we trust God to be a part of the conversation and help us to discern how we can see God more deeply in the beauty of the world. 

I selected our September Book from a list published by Time Magazine, a collection of poetry by critically acclaimed author Ocean Vuong titled Time is a Mother. The paragraph describing the collection and the litany of acclaimed authors and sources recommending it led me to believe it would be the perfect choice to kick off our fall series.  Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.  

As I started to work through the first poems, I wrote my class to warn them of the haunting, vivid, and visceral language that I found so shocking.  I told another that I wouldn’t have selected this collection if I had read it before, which is also true. It’s painful, dark, and yet also beautiful and touching.  As I slowly read each poem, I am being forced to wrestle with powerful images that I’d rather not see.

And yet, as I read the Scriptures appointed for this morning, I am struck that the setting of the story is when the Jewish people are making their way to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves, an annual tradition of sorts.  Their reason is the focus on cleanliness and being both physically and spiritually clean, an attribute of how they understand holiness and purity.  And I am left wondering if my own uncomfortableness with such shocking and vivid imagery that captures the pain and loss of someone’s very human experience is an attempt to see the world through a sanitized lens, my own focus on holiness and purity. 

The world is painful and broken.  Saint Stephen’s likely understands this as much as any community could.  I think we are tempted to come to church sometimes to escape this reality, to find beauty and peace that stands in stark contrast to the pain and agony of the world.  The reality of God’s love breaking into this world is not the absence of grief, pain, trauma, or agony, but taking the reality of the world and making it holy.  We can’t purify ourselves, and we don’t need to, because Christ has redeemed the world. 

The world is complex.   This is the world that Christ breaks into to make holy and redeem, and not a sanitized version of what we want to see.  Maybe this understanding of the power of Christ can let us sit with the pain and discomfort of the world in new ways.

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What stories of the world are painful for you to sit with?  How can God help you to see that reality with new eyes? 

Daily Challenge:  Read a piece of poetry.  I suggest the Poetry Foundation as a good source.