Happy New Year - January 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 34; PM Psalm 33; Gen. 12:1-7; Heb. 11:1-12; John 6:35-42, 48-51

Happy New Year! 

In just a few days, I will celebrate my 5th Anniversary, not only as a priest at Saint Stephen’s but as a resident of this community.  Over the holidays, I have been reflecting some on what it means to be here, and the sense of community that we have found.  This fall, we moved Anne’s family from Kansas to a few miles south of us, to have them close by and help with the care required at this chapter of life. Our children unequivocally see this as home.  I think Anne and I are there now too. 

Claiming a place as home means something.  Anne and I lived in Northern Virginia for three years for seminary, but it was never home.  When you know a place is temporary, it changes the way you build relationships with people.  Fortunately, most students were in the same boat, eager to finish school so that we could get on with our vocations and ministries and begin to live into our vocations.  School was simply the preparation for what was next, and next is what we were focused on.  Concentrating on what is next changes the way we participate in the now.

As I read today’s Old Testament lesson, an apt on for the first day of the year, the Lord is giving Abram instructions to go to the place that God has given him.  In this passage in Genesis, God promises to bless Abram and that Abram will be a blessing to his people.  But in order for that to happen, Abram has to go to the place that his God has shown him, settle down, and make it home. 

Life is full of transitions.  The home we have today, might not be the home we have tomorrow, but it’s important to reflect on what it means to be rooted, to see a community as the community that not only you are a part of, but that you contribute to and build up.  Did Abram’s sense of place contribute to the way that he was a blessing and that others blessed him? 

I wonder if a simple new year’s resolution for all of us could be found in our Old Testament lesson.  God is inviting us into community.  We see this as the Body of Christ.  Maybe this year, a challenge of considering what it means to be rooted where we are.  Where are our roots?  What are the relationships we are building?  What does it mean to see ourselves as an integral part of the community where we are located?  My hope is the same truth for Abram – that you will see your life as blessed.  And in the process, you will see that you are a blessing too.

Happy New Year to you,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Consider the questions in this reflection and spend some time pondering your own rootedness in community.

'When someone offers you their hand, take it' - December 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 93, 96; PM Psalm 148, 150; Isa. 33:17-22; Rev. 22:6-11, 18-20; Luke 1:39-48a(48b-56)

Today’s Reflection

In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leapt for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be* a fulfilment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.’  —Luke 1: 39-45

We know that Elizabeth and Mary shared some things in common: Both were unexpectedly with child. Both were stigmatized (or would be)—but in very different ways, one because she couldn’t have a child until she was older, and the other because she was having a child outside of marriage. Both were chosen by God to play a special role—to birth God’s plan for our salvation into being.

Here’s what we learn from this holy conversation, this holy visitation as it’s traditionally called. First off, it’s a holy moment of recognition. Elizabeth and Mary recognize they are sharing this strange, unexpected experience of being bearers of holy ones entrusted to them by God. It is in this holy encounter that they experience more vividly how their babies are holy and different, as John leaps in Elizabeth’s womb when he hears Mary speak.

What I think is most important to notice in this story, though, is how God guides Mary to go to her cousin Elizabeth. God has entrusted each of these women with great responsibility amidst truly strange and stressful life circumstances—but God also has given them one another to walk together down this strange and winding path.

Author Kate Bowler posted a photo on social media last year that someone had taken of her and her 6-year-old son Zach walking down a path through some woods together, holding one another’s hand. The photo was taken from behind them on the path, from a little distance behind. And the caption of the photo was simply this: “When someone offers you their hand, take it.” That photo and those words have really stuck with me—I have carried them around with me in my heart and in my mind. Ever since, I have been thinking a lot about what it means to accept someone’s hand when it’s offered—and what it means for me to offer my hand to others I encounter along life’s path.

This is the dynamic that we see at play between Mary and Elizabeth, Mary’s beloved older cousin. Mary finds herself in an unexpected and difficult situation. She doesn’t feel safe or comfortable sharing what she’s going through with the people in her own, immediate family. But suddenly she hears that still small voice of God, that gentle nudge (or even that strong push) of the Holy Spirit that what she really needs to do right now is go see Elizabeth. Even though her family doesn’t want her to leave. Even though it’s a lot of trouble to travel all the way to the town where Elizabeth and Zechariah live. But Mary steps out in faith and seeks out Elizabeth—because somehow, through the guiding of the Holy Spirit, she knows that Elizabeth is just the person she needs to be with in this strange and stressful time.

How can we connect Elizabeth and Mary’s story with our own holy conversations, our own holy friendships? We experience these same kinds of holy moments when we recognize that God has brought us into the presence of someone who shares something with us—some common life experience. We have a moment of recognition when we realize that we have walked a similar path, that we have each followed the breadcrumbs God has scattered along the path. And we discover that as we find the next breadcrumb that we have found it in this friendship and in this holy moment of conversation and common ground. When we share our emotions, our experiences, our vulnerabilities, and give them voice, these are holy conversations. And these holy conversations are moments when we find that we are, in fact, bearing the light and love of Christ into the world.

The sociologist Brene Brown defines vulnerability as the intertwining of risk, uncertainty, and emotional exposure. I know it seems paradoxical, but there is a real power to be found in this kind of vulnerability. When we shine a light into these previously dark corners of our lives, God’s love conquers what we had long believed needed to remain hidden.

Elizabeth and Mary are such a vivid reminder to us that God doesn’t intend for us to walk alone. These two women were entrusted with some of the most important and holy work that anyone has ever been entrusted with by God—to bring John the Baptist and Jesus into this world, and then to raise them up to be the people God needed them to be in order to save us all. But as this story makes so clear, Mary and Elizabeth couldn’t do this on their own. They needed each other. And God gave them one another so that they would not have to carry both these special responsibilities and these special joys alone.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Recall a person with whom you have shared the kind of mutual vulnerability that Elizabeth and Mary shared with one another. How did sharing your experiences openly and being present with one another in that way give you courage for what you were facing then and for what was yet to come?

Daily Challenge

Today’s reflection is an excerpt of a sermon given last year in the Season of Advent. You may listen to the full sermon here.

The Longest Night - December 21, 2022

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 111, 113; Isa. 28:9-22; Rev. 21:9-21; Luke 1:26-38

Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel,

who alone does wondrous deeds!

And blessed be his glorious Name for ever!

and may all the earth be filled with his glory. Amen. Amen. (Psalm 72:18-19)

These stanzas above are the final verses of Psalm 72, appointed for this morning. This psalm of prayer and praise to God guides our eyes and minds to focus on the justice that God will bring to all of creation. Rather than flowing through the hand of the Divine, this prayer asks that justice be made manifest through a King over the peoples. Through that King, the Lord God will reign.

In this psalm, justice and righteousness do not result in the smiting of those who are awful. Neither will YHWH extinguish the evil. Rather, the prayer outlines how the compassion of God will be demonstrated through the acts of the King, extending care and protection to those who are needy, poor, and vulnerable. The King will bring nourishment and salvation. This King will bring redemption, not fiery condemnation. All hearts will bow down to this King, offering gifts and honor. And so, as the psalmist prays, "Long may he live!" followed by a sequence of hopes: may much gold be sent to him from Arabia; may people always pray for him; may people bless him all day, every day...with this crescendo: "May his Name remain for ever and be established as long as the sun endures; may all the nations bless themselves in him and call him blessed."

While this psalm was written long before Jesus, it sure does sound like it is pointing toward the reign hoped for in the Messiah's coming. A King like no other: The King of kings. The Lord of lords. And He shall reign forever. And ever.

With God, all things are possible. Healing and peace. Care and hope. On this day, the shortest of our calendar year, I pray that the words of this psalm create a thread of hopefulness and light, as you cast your eyes upon the Savior. On this the longest night, may you bless the Lord God, the God of Israel, who alone does wondrous deeds. May all the earth be filled with God's glory. Amen. Amen.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection 

What images come to mind when you think of a godly leader? Who do you consider to be a righteous leader serving God? What qualities does that person exhibit? What habits help sustain their grounding in God?

Daily Challenge

Sit in intentional prayer today. Remember those struggling - the poor, the needy, the lonely, the dying. This is the winter solstice...and the day with the least amount of sunshine. Pray for those surrounded by darkness this day and night.

"I can do Nothing on my Own" - December 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 61, 62; PM Psalm 112, 115; Isa. 11:1-9; Rev. 20:1-10; John 5:30-47

A question was posed in one of our weekly small groups by a curious and thoughtful parishioner: Is much of our human existence focused on the alleviation of suffering?  The conversation turned to parenting, and a teacher in the group shared, I wish I could tell 90% of the parents I work with, you need to let your kids fail and mess up and sit with that suffering that comes from loss and failure.  And you will be grateful for it!”

One of the realities of this past year and being a part of Saint Stephen’s has been a confrontation with pain and suffering colliding with radical and unconditional love that puts that suffering and loss into the hands of God.  Being a part of a worshiping congregation that appears to be a place that has marginal suffering, where people have much privilege and resources, and often sees its own identity focused on caring for the needs of others, this past year has been a stark reminder that nothing in life is certain and all of us are impacted by sin and evil.  What has been most interesting is the reality that faith seems to have deepened for many people when confronted with this truth, at least that is very true for me.

The question that was posed is especially interesting when held up as a theological conundrum.   What is it that we believe God is to do?  Does God alleviate our suffering, or does God promise to be with us so that we may endure this life, and find goodness and beauty in overcoming the pain and challenges that we face?  Maybe we have been forced to learn what many others have learned before, and yet are teaching many others in our larger community that often live with an ethic of alleviating their own suffering. In today’s Gospel, it begins with Jesus saying, “I can do nothing on my own.”  It is in John’s Gospel that we get the vision of the Advocate, whom we come to know as the Holy Spirit, God’s promise to be with us. 

It seems as appropriate as ever, to name this truth, that we too can do nothing on our own.  Our attempt to alleviate suffering, to make our lives more comfortable certainly might be a worthy cause, but there are no guarantees in life, except God’s promise to be with us through it all.  As we barrel towards Christmas this coming week, I pray that you find the joy of the Christmas season.  And if you are finding this season more difficult than most, I also pray that you know and see God with you in your midst.  That is the true gift of Christmas, that God came to dwell with us in human form, and God is still with us now, an Advocate so that we never find ourselves alone again.

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What role does suffering play in your life?  When have you found God to be more present in your life than others?

Daily Challenge: Look for God today.  Don’t stop until you answer the question, ‘where do you see God at work today in your own life.’

'More than a prophet' - December 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Isa. 10:5-19; 2 Pet. 2:17-22; Matt. 11:2-15

Today’s Reflection

It’s easy to get wrapped up in a vision of Advent and Christmas seen through a soft lens, in which all is calm and all is bright. Holy infant, so tender and mild, sleeping in heavenly peace. There is truth in the tenderness and sweetness of the baby Jesus being nestled and nursed by his mother Mary. And yet, there’s another lens through which one can see the coming of Jesus with a harder edge. Jesus himself, speaking as an adult, acknowledges this edgier version of his story when he gives us his take on his cousin, John the Baptist, the one sent to prepare his way: 

Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet.” 

John is no reed shaken by the wind. John’s not going to be pushed around. And John’s definitely not wearing soft robes. In fact, he’s wearing camel hair, and he’s got a strong enough stomach to eat his honey with a large side of locusts. John was sent ahead of Jesus to prepare his way—not by declaring some soft, easily digestible message but to proclaim a message that was much harder for people to digest. John came to call people to repentance for their sins, both those things we’ve done and left undone. 

John came bearing an uncomfortable message. But this is what prophets do: They tell it like it is. They ask tough questions. They wonder what it is you’re really all about. They push you to see if you have a purpose, and whether or not even you know it. They hold up a mirror so we can see ourselves in a truer light. 

Often what we see in the mirror the prophet holds up is not a flattering vision of who we are, what we’ve done, or what we hope to be. We look at the prophet and we feel uncomfortable. We see the prophet coming toward us and we don’t want to let her get too close. As Jesus probes, “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at?” Whatever people may have been looking for, Jesus says, what they found there was a prophet and then some: “Yes, a prophet, I tell you, and more than a prophet.” 

We can think of people in our lives who make us feel uncomfortable at times—or maybe even most of the time. Many times, someone who makes us feel uncomfortable makes us feel this way because of the mirror that they hold up to us—somehow looking at and listening to this person makes us feel less than comfortable with ourselves. There’s something in the way they declare the truth or see the world that rubs us the wrong way. They don’t cast a vision of soft robes—and they don’t speak words that just soothe us and leave us be. 

The Canticle appointed for this past Sunday was the Magnificat, or the Song of Mary, Mary’s own very prophetic declaration recorded in the Gospel according to Luke. In choosing Mary, an unmarried young woman from a poor family in a rural village, God was making a radical statement about who is closest to God’s heart: the poor, the disadvantaged, the disinherited, the meek, the weak, the marginalized. God chose someone from the margins to carry his son in her womb and raise him up in the way in which he should go. Mary’s song is not soft and sweet. Mary’s song is just as radical and uncomfortable a message as John’s voice crying out in the wilderness or Jesus’ own speaking of truth to power. 

Mary is speaking prophetically from her one-of-a-kind position as both God-bearer and representative of those at the margins. On the one hand, Mary speaks from a place of credibility, as one who has experienced hunger, thirst, and oppression. On the other hand, Mary speaks from a place of authority, as one who carries within her the long-awaited Messiah. She speaks with a prophetic voice as she declares: 

He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation. 

He has shown the strength of his arm, he has scattered the proud in their conceit. 

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. 

He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. 

Mary prepares the way for Jesus as he grows in her womb, singing her prophetic song over him as she declared the many ways in which God, through sending Jesus to be with us, would turn the world upside down. Likewise, John prepares the way for Jesus as he speaks the truth plainly, without artifice, calling people to repentance and baptism, making the way for one far greater and mightier to save. Both Mary and John are the ones God chose to prepare the way for Jesus.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Who has played a prophetic role in your life? What questions did they ask that made you feel uncomfortable? What did they bring to light that made you re-evaluate yourself and your priorities? How have you responded to the message that this prophetic voice proclaimed to you?

Daily Challenge

Reflect more on Jesus and John the Baptist by reading this short article by Helen Bond, head of the Divinity School at the University of Edinburgh.

The voice of one crying out - December 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]
Isa. 9:8-17; 2 Pet. 2:1-10a; Mark 1:1-8

While downstairs writing today, attempting a reflection on Isaiah 9, I heard the sounds of crying upstairs. It was distant and wavering. It reminded me of the opening to the gospel of Jesus according to Mark that is appointed for today…Isaiah says, “See I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, may his paths straight.’”

I heard a voice crying out and I was not exactly sure what was going on. When I came to a stopping point, I went upstairs to say hello to our two school-aged kids.

I’ll say this: some weekday mornings are rocky. Usually, it is wrapped up in middle school anxiety. This morning, however, it was the first grader. He was out sick yesterday with a 24-hour bug. And his teacher has been out sick with the flu. If there is one thing Robinson does not like, it is a substitute teacher. Now, if you are one of the dedicated cadre that subject yourselves and your schedules to the whims and needs of substitute teaching, thank you!! You keep our schools running. My kid, however, dreads substitutes. They are unknown. They are new. They must get the class in order. And Robinson only wants warmth and familiarity. Change is not a welcomed friend in his six-year-old sensibilities.

Change is hard. And the best we can do is lean upon God in those moments. John the baptizer was sent to prepare people all over Judea for the coming of Jesus. It was rocky, at best. People did not know how to hear what John was saying. They could not fully comprehend the magnitude of the glory Jesus would bring to the world.

We are not alone in these moments of transition. Let us draw together as community, woven in the love of our Lord, who sends messengers to open our ears and hearts. Let us pray that God will reassure us when we are timid and frightened, for God’s hand is outstretched to us still.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What scared you as a child? What scares you today? Who reassures you? How do you pray through times of change and uncertainty?

Daily Challenge

Listen for something today that makes you really uncomfortable. And then, take fifteen minutes to ponder and pray. Journal about what is making you feel this way? Rather than stepping back, lean into the discomfort. Read more. Ask someone for their input. Pray for God to prepare you to move deeper into that space, to open your eyes, and to help you grow.

Prayer as Preparation - December 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Isa. 8:16-9:1; 2 Pet. 1:1-11; Luke 22:39-53

My understanding of prayer has always been that it shapes us, maybe to be more compassionate, more understanding, to be deeply more empathetic.  And prayer entrusts our concerns to God, a way of seeking the support and comfort from the one who loves us.  But I am still struck by a sermon that Katherine preached a week ago.  

Katherine shared, that prayer prepares us for what is to come.  There is a slight difference in shaping us to be who are supposed to be and preparing for what is to come.  While I might know that I might need to be more compassionate, therefore praying for the concerns of others, seeing my prayers as preparation becomes more urgent.  I must pray in order to handle what life may throw my way.  This means prayer is necessary. The deep prayers of this past year are what have prepared us to be able to live with love, welcome, and faith in the midst of challenges and pain. The deep prayers of love for friends and parishioners who are struggling prepare me to sit with them in the midst of life. Prayers for my family ease tensions in the holidays. Prayers for our community, prepare me to be more a part of our community.

I have often wondered how Jesus could so willingly go to the cross.  Today’s Gospel reading is Jesus praying at the Mount of Olives, just outside the gate to the old city of Jerusalem.  He kneels and prays in one of his last acts before being handed over to the Roman authorities.  One of his last acts is to pray: “Not my will but yours be done.” 

I wonder if this is the crux of a faithful life, to surrender to God’s will and let our own ego and desires dissipate so that God’s will shine through.  It is counterintuitive because most of our actions as human beings are trying to will our own outcome to life.  Many of us are told from a very young age that we can be whoever we want to be.  We make decisions that directly affect outcomes and we do have agency over our own lives.  I’ve even argued before that autonomy is what defines what it means to truly live.  And yet, Jesus’s action in today’s Gospel is to surrender to God’s will, and it is prayer that prepares him to do what is necessary. 

As much as I want to believe that I know what tomorrow will bring, the past few years are a visible reminder that the future is always uncertain.  But we do have some control and agency in our lives.  We can pray and God will use those prayers to shape us to be faithful in spite of all that is to come.  Thanks be to God.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How does prayer shape your life?  What was the last thing you prayed about?  How do you think about your prayer life?

Daily Challenge:  Consider praying the Saint Stephen’s prayer list.  Here is a link to this weeks list.

'Hold fast to the traditions' - December 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; Isa. 7:10-25; 2 Thess. 2:13-3:5; Luke 22:14-30

Today’s Reflection

But we must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters beloved by the Lord, because God chose you as the first fruits for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and through belief in the truth. For this purpose he called you through our proclamation of the good news, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by our letter.

Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.  —2 Thessalonians 2: 13-17

A few days after the first Sunday in Advent, I was walking up the stairs in the church and there, at the top of the stairs, was an evergreen tree, ready in its stand to be decorated. As soon as I saw it, I remembered, yes, it’s time already for the Chrismon tree.

And then I recalled the last time I had seen the tree in that exact spot, being decorated. It was about that same day in Advent in 2021, and the people decorating it included the two people who did so many things to prepare our church for all the liturgical seasons: Jane and Sharon. As I had that memory, my instinct was to walk over close to tree, close enough to touch it and smell it, and just pause for a moment to remember them for a moment and wonder who would be coming by later to decorate the tree this Advent.

Later that day, as I came up the stairs for my Wednesday night Advent reflection group, I received the answer to that question. There was the completely, beautifully decorated tree, with all the hand-stitched Chrismon ornaments, and Martha Noble Langston, putting the ornament boxes away. We stood there and talked a moment, before we both headed into the Advent group in the library, about how it had been strange to be the one to take the lead with the tree, which had been something her dear friend Jane had always done.

Martha shared how she had invited her granddaughter, Hill, to come join her in the work of hanging the Chrismons on the tree, and how beautiful it was to invite someone from the next generation into carrying on this tradition in our church. And then, when we gathered to reflect on Advent themes with the others in our group, there was a moment when Martha shared more about this with those gathered and it became a beautiful moment for us to stop and remember in this season of waiting and anticipation that leads us into Christmas and all that it means.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

What are some traditions you and your family have to help prepare your hearts for Christmas in this Season of Advent? How might you invite others to share in the preparations with you in a different way this year?

Daily Challenge

Learn more about the history and meaning of Chrismon trees here or pick up one of the leaflets next to our Chrismon tree next time you are at the church to worship.

"The holy seed is its stump" - December 7

Today’s Readings:
AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48
Isa. 6:1-13; 2 Thess. 1:1-12; John 7:53-8:11

While reading the passage appointed today from the prophet Isaiah, the familiar words rang clearly in my heart – it is often the Old Testament reading in priestly ordination services. Isaiah tells of his prophetic vision: seated upon a throne, the Lord was so large, the hem of the robe filled the temple. Winged seraphs hovered above the Divine and sang to one another the words we say during the Eucharistic prayer, proclaiming the holiness of God: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.”

Then the Temple filled with smoke. Isaiah voiced his disorientation and humility: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” One of the angelic attendants flew to Isaiah, toting a hot coal from the altar of the Lord. The seraph touched the prophet’s mouth with the burning ember and stated, “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” Isaiah heard the voice of God asking, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” He answered the Lord, “Here am I; send me!”

The faithful follower is cleansed, and in doing so, he is transformed into a prophet…this is his story of being and becoming.

In an ordination, like the one held at Camp McDowell last month during Clergy Conference, the Isaiah reading ends there, followed by more readings of Holy Scripture, hymns, and prayers. For this Old Testament reading today, we get to read what comes next – God’s response to a person of faith. The Lord told Isaiah to go to a people – the Israelites – and say, “Keep listening, but do not comprehend; keep looking, but do not understand.” God challenged Isaiah to help this people trust in the Divine so that they may repent and be healed…and that meant they needed to turn off their other sources of perception to pay attention to the Lord.

Isaiah asked how long this process would take, putting a mental goal in his own mind. God’s response was harsh – destruction and exile were forecast. “Until cities lie waste without inhabitant, and houses without people, and the land is utterly desolate; until the Lord sends everyone far away…” The trees would be brought down and only stumps left behind.

And yet, in that lowest of the low times, there was hope: “The holy seed is its stump.” New growth would come out of the ruins. God’s promise was not wiped away. Isaiah would continue to remind the Israelites of this during their years of exile in Babylon.

Perhaps there are days you and I need this reminder, too.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

How does Isaiah's story of being and becoming remind you of a story in your own experience? Who are the angels?

Who has been a source of inspiration and change for you?

Daily Challenge

Today is the day we remember the attacks on Pearl Harbor. There was much desolation, loss, and fear that emanated from those events in 1941. Sit in prayer to reflect on the pain inflicted by that tragedy. Read about the commemoration events happening today at Pearl Harbor.

Encourage Each Other - December 5

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15; Isa. 5:8-12,18-23; 1 Thess. 5:1-11; Luke 21:20-28

In our morning worship services, we often have a young child, somewhere between 4 years old and nine, serve as a special acolyte.  They carry a small wooden cross, stand at the front of the nave until just after the opening acclimation, and then they are invited to lead other children out of the nave to a small children’s service where they will hear an age appropriate lesson before returning to join their families for communion.   At one service yesterday, the small acolyte was especially stoic in their actions, standing at the top of the sanctuary focused on their role.  I taped him on the shoulder, “it’s time to lead the children” I whispered.  He paused.  Another gentle nudge.

The acolyte walked down the stairs, and then the unexpected.  A full-on sprint came next.  The mad dash to the nave door, as children scrambled out of the pews to catch up amidst the laughter and joy of the congregation as we observed the young child sprinting to his next stop. 

It was a beautiful moment yesterday, one of those memories that makes church memorable.  I thought about the young child when reading our lesson from 1 Thessalonians.  I wonder if he was worried about making it to chapel in time, or worried that he wouldn’t get there soon enough.  I’m guessing he isn’t alone in the mental game of wondering if we are doing our faith correctly or worrying about showing up in the places we are expected to be.  Paul is encouraging the community gathered in Thessaloniki that they already know about the coming reign of God.  Instead of worrying, they should encourage each other, and build each other up. 

How lovely a reminder.   We are called to build each other up and encourage one another in our faith.  This is different than fixing each other’s beliefs or trying to understand everything perfectly.  It’s different even than getting the pace right.  If you are reading this email, thank you.  I hope you are encouraged.  Keep it up. I going to trust that you are living your faith in a beautiful and hopeful way, following the one who teaches us how to love. Thanks be to God.

John

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What encourages you in your faith?  Are their specific people, or a community?

Daily Challenge: Encourage a friend in their faith. Make a phone call. Send an email. Offer to pray for someone. Be Bold!

'Those who have stood by me' - December 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; Isa. 7:10-25; 2 Thess. 2:13-3:5; Luke 22:14-30

Today’s Reflection

Psalm 31 reminds us of how in God we can find our refuge. The psalmist calls out to God, praying that God would, “Incline your ear to me; make haste to deliver me. Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe, for you are my crag and my stronghold; for the sake of your name, lead me and guide me” (Psalm 31: 2-3). With these words, we are reminded of several of God’s attributes, including that God protects us, comforts us, listens to us, delivers us, and guides us. In my experience, I have found that one of the chief ways through which God offers us refuge—and does all these things for us—is through the friends God places in our lives, the companions God gives us as we find our way through the changes and chances of this life.

In Luke 22, we find Jesus at the end of his time here on earth. He offered his friends bread and wine, saying them to the very words that we still use today (what we call the words of institution) in our Eucharistic prayers: “Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood’” (Luke 22: 19-20).

Sadly, right after that, Jesus’ friends got off track, worrying about who among them is the greatest and who is the least. Jesus reminded them that what greatness really means is to be a servant, as he has done. And then he says to them, “You are those who have stood by me in my trials; and I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom, so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom” (Luke 22: 28-30a). Even Jesus needed friends to stand by him (NRSV) or stay with him (ESV) through the tough moments in life. Jesus’ strong rock, his crag and stronghold, were these friends.

Before the pandemic was ever on our radar, before everyone started Zoom-ing for everything, we set up a Facebook group for our seminary cohort, which is about 17 people who went through the MDiv or Anglican Studies programs together at Seminary of the Southwest. And we had to find a time to meet for video chats that would work for people who are scattered across time zones from Seattle, Washington to Wiesbaden, Germany. We haven’t been meeting quite as often lately—and I’ve been missing these times of encouragement. These are friends who are like family. We are each other’s “crag and stronghold,” and we continue to stand by one another in times of trial—just as Jesus and his friends did, and Paul and his friends in Thessaloniki, too.

I hope you have found people like this as you have journeyed through life, companions to be your “strong rock” along the way. I suspect that for many of you, you have found these kinds of supportive friends in our community here at Saint Stephen’s. To echo Paul’s letter to some of his friends, the Thessalonians, “But we must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters beloved by the Lord. … Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word” (2 Thess. 2: 13, 16-17).

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Who are the people have stood with you through times of trial, the people who are your rock and stronghold that help you feel safe? And who counts you among the sources of strength and protection in their life?

Daily Challenge

Find a moment to write a note, send a text, or make a call to a few of the “rocks” God has given to you as a source of support and place of refuge in your life. Tell them what they mean to you. Remind them that you are there for them whenever they need a refuge and a castle to keep them safe.

Light and Love - November 30

Today’s Readings: The Feast of St. Andrew
AM: Psalm 34; Isaiah 49:1-6; 1 Corinthians 4:1-16
PM: Psalm 96, 100; Isaiah 55:1-5; John 1:35-42 

Someone told me this week about their spiritual practice and mindset for living: to breathe in light and breathe out love. Absorbing God’s radiance and warmth as the source of inspiration sounds like a robust way to fill one’s lungs with oxygen and one’s spirit with hope. Then, in gratitude, the complementary response is to exhale God’s abiding and honest love to all. Choosing to approach the day in this way sets her in a posture to live fully into God’s grace and generosity.

The mantra of breathing in light and breathing out love is simple in concept and very difficult in application. I pondered a tense interaction that transpired earlier in the week. En route to someone’s house in Highland Park, a fire engine was blocking the road. I could not pass. Just before I backed up, a black sedan pulled in behind me. I waited a moment. I tried backing out, but I kept brushing up against a curb and it was really tight to get past his car. Then, a fire marshal vehicle pulled up, with lights on. I was able to move my vehicle forward for the fire department personnel to get to the scene. I rolled down my window to signal the driver of the black car to pull forward or to back up, so that I could get out more easily. He did not budge.

It did not appear that the fire truck situation would be cleared quickly and I had a pastoral visit to make at someone’s home. This was delaying my arrival even more. I felt trapped and in quite a quandary. After waiting and wondering, I decided to get out of my car and ask the man if he would please move over so that I could get by. He looked at me and shook his head, “No.” He then turned his head away from me. I gestured again. He pulled down his car’s visor so that he could not see me from where I was standing outside his vehicle. It was the most bizarre impasse.

Rattled, I surveyed the gap between our cars and went back to my car. I tried again to extricate my vehicle, backing up tenuously and missing his Honda by mere inches. I turned around and went a different way to the destination. Later that day, I heard the “breathe in light, breathe out love” mantra. I fell short of that mindset in the tension in Highland Park. I felt stress and a lack of understanding. I am still befuddled by the driver of that black Honda.

The reading from Isaiah 49 appointed for this morning reminded me of the centering mantra of light and love. God says to the prophet Isaiah on behalf of all Israel, “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (v. 6b) The Lord sees that the people who have lived through exile and return are an inspiration in their testimony. Their story of hardship and hope is one that can illumine the hearts of others. It is a story to be told to generations of people who also find themselves in spaces of darkness and hopelessness. And even in those places where trees are cut to the ground, God’s love and strength is present as new shoots spring forth from stumps. The salvific promise of Jehovah does not waver; it spreads.

Friends, that hope and love spread through us some days, and always with God’s help. Whether the mantra of “breathe in light and breathe out love” is easy or beyond consideration, know that God is our strength and our constant companion, no matter what.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you felt trapped, at an impasse? How did you respond? What helped you get through?

Daily Challenge

Sit and contemplate what breathing in God's light and breathing out God's love looks like for you today. Then, try to live into this mantra for a day. Journal about how it went. Tell someone about your experiences - successes and failures!

Accepting Responsibility - November 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7; Isa. 1:10-20; 1 Thess. 1:1-10; Luke 20:1-8

With the Thanksgiving break this past week, my family enjoyed some quality movie time.  On Saturday, we watched the 2017 Wonder Woman box office hit.  The movie is set during World War I, a global war at play.  Wonder Woman believes that the “War to end all Wars” is really the work of the Greek God, Ares.  There is this scene where she is demanding to know who is at fault for the great war.  

 The protagonist, a good-natured US pilot, has promised to take Wonder Woman to the center of the action, but he doesn’t believe that Ares is involved.  There is a beautiful scene where the pilot is arguing about who is responsible for the war and he places the burden of responsibility on all of humanity.   “We are all responsible for this war.” 

Of course, Hollywood had a real villain to make a better movie.  Wonder Woman had returned to defeat the war-hungry Ares, but I appreciated the responsibility of the pilot, the awareness that as humans, our lives are intertwined in a way that makes it challenging most times to discern absolute blame on one side or the other.  We all play a role in perpetuating the world that we have inherited. 

This season of Advent, we have begun reading from Isaiah.  The prophet looks to address an entire people reminding them that the world they are responsible for caring for is not as it is.  It isn’t a lament to how they have been treated (Isaiah will touch upon this later), but addresses initially a self-reflective window to a people’s role in the wellbeing of others. 

What a helpful beginning for this season of Advent! As we long for the kingdom of God to break through, our first inclination is not to turn to all the wrongs done by other people, of the ways we have been wronged, but instead to turn inwardly in exploring our own lives, and to recognize that all of Christianity has played a role in perpetuating this world we have inherited.  And then, through our own repentance and self-examination, we can then turn to God’s agency in making something new out of our lives and this world. 

Our reading today ends:

 “Come now, let us argue it out, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool. If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land; but if you refuse and rebel, you shall be devoured by the sword; for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” Let us follow God and enjoy the fruits of what God is doing in our midst. 

John+ 

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What is your practice of self-examination?  How easy is it for you to accept responsibility for what is much larger than yourself? 

Daily Challenge:    One of the Eucharistic Prayers of the People (Form VI) includes a Confession of sin.  This group of prayers begins on page 392.  Trying using this prayer this week in your personal prayer life. 

'All who knew her called her mother' - November 18

Today’s Readings: Feast Day of Hilda of Whitby: Psalm 122; Ephesians 4:1-6; Matthew 19:27-29 

Today’s Reflection

“All who knew her, called her mother,

because of her outstanding devotion and grace.” —Bede

The woman whose life we are celebrating today, Hilda, was born in 614 in Northumbria, which today is Yorkshire in the north of England. I first heard of Hilda when I visited Yorkshire in 2013. My college roommate Lisa and her husband John had relocated to England for work for a few years; while on sabbatical from my university, I decided to go visit them along with Karen, another college friend.

Lisa had been writing a blog of all their road trips around the UK, and her photographs of the ruined abbeys at Rievaulx and Whitby in Yorkshire had captured my imagination. We arrived in Whitby on a very blustery September morning; the ruins that stand on the cliff looking over the North Sea and the town of Whitby are old, but are in fact of an abbey built later, in Norman times, but on the same site as where Hilda founded an abbey centuries before, in the 600s.

Her name Hilda or Hild derives from the Saxon word for battle, or in Anglo-Saxon Hilda means heroine or in Old German it means the warrior woman. This is an appropriate name for her, as she was born during a time of many wars and power struggles amongst those who wanted to rule over the various regions of what we now think of as Britain. Amidst all this conflict and chaos, Hilda’s father Prince Hereric was forced to go into exile while Hilda was an infant. During this time, Hilda’s mother Lady Breguswith had what has come to be seen as a prophetic dream, which the historian Bede recounts in his History of the English Church and People:

“[Hilda’s] life was the fulfillment of a dream which her mother Breguswith had when Hilda was an infant, during the time that her husband was living in banishment under the protection of the British king Cerdic…. In this dream she fancied that he was suddenly taken away, and although she searched everywhere, she could find no trace of him. When all her efforts failed, she discovered a most valuable jewel under her garments; and as she looked closely, it emitted such a brilliant light that all Britain was lit by its splendor.”

This dream was fulfilled in her daughter, whose life afforded a shining example not only to herself but to all who wished to live a good life.

Not long after this dream, Hilda’s father Hereric was poisoned to death. Hilda, her older sister, and her mother are thought to have lived under the protection of King Edwin, through which Hilda would have had met the many people coming in and out of his court, including members of the early Christian religious communities asserting their influence around England, Wales, and Ireland.

King Edwin married Ethelburga of Kent, which is in the south of England, to which Augustine had been sent to establish the Roman church in what we know today as Canterbury. So, Ethelburga was a Christian and when she moved north to marry Edwin, she did so with the understanding that she would retain her Christian faith and bring along a priest, Palinius. When Hilda was about 13 years old, Edwin and his whole household, and many others around what is now York were baptized on the site of what is today York Minster.

When Hilda was 33 years old—halfway through her life—she took monastic vows. She had thought at first she would live as a monastic in France, but she was persuaded by Aidan of Lindisfarne to remain in Northumbria and work to build up the church there. She began at Hartlepool, and then was tasked to begin a house at Streanshalch, now known as Whitby, and later another at Hackness. The abbey at Whitby was a double house, which means it was both men and women—and Hilda was the abbess for all of them.

What kind of abbess was Hilda that Bede would describe her in such glowing terms—that in her mother’s dream Hilda was signified by a jewel shining its light to illuminate all of England? First, we know Hilda was a church planter—she founded three abbeys or houses, the last one in the final year of her life as her health was failing. Second, we know Hilda was a mentor to many, including to Caedmon, the shepherd turned poet. Many future priests, and five bishops, were spiritually formed in her abbey. Third, we know Hilda was a wise woman and advisor—people sought out her counsel, so much so that her abbey was site of the Synod of Whitby in 664, at which decisions were made concerning whether the church in England should follow the Roman or the Celtic tradition.

Like a multi-faceted jewel, Hilda’s different dimensions or facets allowed the light of Christ to shine out in different directions, magnified through the houses she founded and led, the people in whose lives she invested her time and care, and the leaders whom she influenced through her wise counsel.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Who has been a Hilda-like figure in your life, someone who has been a channel of godly wisdom and insight?

Collect for Hilda of Whitby

O God of peace, by whose grace the abbess Hilda was endowed with gifts of justice, prudence, and strength to rule as a wise mother over the nuns and monks of her household: Raise up these gifts in us, that we, following her example and prayers, may build up one another in love to the benefit of your Church; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Life Lessons - November 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144
Mal. 1:1, 6-14; James 3:13-4:12; Luke 17:11-19

In the opening words of Love is the Way, Presiding Bishop Michael Curry shares that one of his daughters asked him what he was writing about. His answer to her was this: “Some of what I’ve learned from faith, family, community, and ancestors.”

Her response summarized what she heard, “So you’re writing about life lessons?”

Yes. Exactly. Lessons of struggle. Lessons of support. Lessons of being beloved children of God together. Curry cites the influences upon his own path, including his father, grandmother, and Dr. Martin Luther King, who said, “We must learn to live together as brother or perish together as fools.” For if we choose the latter, we turn our backs on community and descend into chaos. Curry suggests that this was true in the 1960s and it is true today.

These nuggets of wisdom and life lessons are woven into the message in the Epistle from James appointed for today, too. Written for an audience that long preceded us, the Christian community was struggling to work through tensions in togetherness. Living “right” is sometimes hard, even when we are grounded in God’s love. This letter from James brings up honest and important topics today. For example, he asks of the community, “Who is wise and understanding among you?” Can you imagine the people lifting their eyes or standing up straighter, as if to subtly gesture that they fall into this category?

James continues, “Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth.” You see, that is where sin and brokenness, disorder and wickedness seep into the cracks…when we put the “I” first. James allows that to sink in and then moves to show the better way – God’s way: “wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.”

In the last 24 hours, there was a parenting tension in our house. A sick kid. A failure to communicate. And frustration. It is tough. And I hear James’ words speaking right to my heart. It is hard to live in community. It is a challenge to stay tethered to the wisdom of God, when I stumble over my own selfishness and insistence on control.

James’ words are humbling to me right now. Life lessons are like that. It is the gift of Holy Scripture, staying grounded in the Word.

The final words of chapter 3 are these: “And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.” James ends with a message of hopefulness.

Friends, let us make peace today with our words, our hearts, our hands – always grounded and guided in God’s abiding love.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What life lessons do you pass along to others?

Where do wisdom and faith collide for you?

Daily Challenge

Reread the passage from James 3:13 - 4:12. Listen for where you feel conflict or want to say, "Yeah, but...". Spend ten minutes journaling about how God is working on you through wisdom and life lessons.

Pay Attention - November 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52; Hab. 2:1-4,9-20; James 2:14-26; Luke 16:19-31

On Wednesday nights, I lead two Bible studies, one for a group of Men at Saint Stephen’s, and the other to a group of Young Adults at Saint Stephen’s.  A typical week includes asking two questions to the entire group before we dig into the appointed scripture passage.  The first question is always the same: “Where did you see God this week?”   

While the Bible studies are open to everyone, we have built over the past year, a pretty committed group.  Most people who attend are regular in their attendance, and the experiment that we are trying is asking the question – if we begin to look for God every week, does it get easier to see God in our lives?  Now, a year into this process rarely does someone lack an answer to this question.  What is even more amazing to me, is we have moved from primarily seeing God in the early morning walks, the vastness of the sky and stars, and the beauty of creation, to also seeing God in the ordinary actions of strangers and friends.  The more people pay attention, the easier it is to see God in all things. 

But it requires paying attention.  Our reading from Habakkuk begins, “I will stand at my watch-post, and station myself on the rampart; I will keep watch to see what he will say to me, and what he will answer concerning my complaint.  Habakkuk is waiting for the Lord, standing attention, and expecting a response.  And the Lord answers him in verse 2 offering a vision of seeing God. 

How different are our lives when we actually pay attention! I have no doubt that God is in your life actively working for we believe that is what it means to be Baptized with the Holy Spirit.  And I have little doubt that the more we pay attention, the more we will realize the gift of the Spirit.  So may we stand at our watch post looking for what God is doing in our midst.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where have you seen God this week?  How easy or difficult is it for you to ask that question?

Daily Challenge: Consider going to one of the Bible Studies at church this week, or if you are a member of another faith community, go to one there.  We have 14 offerings every week and you can find the program guide here.

Jesus tells stories to help us repent - November 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Joel 2:12-19; Rev. 19:11-21; Luke 15:1-10

Jesus told stories that were highly relatable to his audience. The parables were focused upon events that were relevant to the time and place. In Luke 15, Jesus speaks to crowds that include the faithful attenders – Pharisees and the scribes of the Temple – and those who are less pristine – the tax-collectors and sinners. He tells them two stories of loss – one of livestock and the other of money.

The parable of the lost sheep highlights that one sheep was in peril apart from the herd of 100. Jesus asks, “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?” He poses the question in a way to assert that the shepherd must seek the lost one. Who would confess to acting otherwise? And then what happens? When the fluffy animal is located, it is lifted up above the brambles and predators and rests upon the steady shoulders of the shepherd. And much joy ensues. The shepherd calls his friends and family, sharing the celebratory spirit that the sheep was lost and now is found. Lest the Pharisees and scribes think he was talking exclusively to the tax-collectors and other garden variety sinners with this message, Jesus adds a fine point at the end of the parable: “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous people who need no repentance.”

In essence, Jesus says, “I am looking at you, too, my well educated and faithful colleagues. You are not beyond the need for repentance and forgiveness.”

Jesus continues, bringing in an example of a woman who has ten days’ wages – ten silver coins – and one goes missing. It could be the tithe she is to give to the Temple that is lost. And what does the audience expect her to do in response? Search and search and search until she finds it! And like the shepherd who locates the lost sheep, the woman calls together her network of support, “Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.” As in the previous parable, Jesus adds a note of commentary at the end, “Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

Jesus is preaching the message that repentance is met with joy – ALWAYS. While it is painful and uncomfortable and we might grumble getting to that point, God desires that we turn our faces and our lives toward God. In doing so, we can no longer point fingers or separate ourselves from others. This is not easy.

I wonder what parables Jesus would tell us today? Would he name the midterm elections? Would he address aggressive behaviors of those masked by their vehicles in traffic or by pseudonyms in social media? Would he point to poverty and hunger and war? How would Jesus use the scenarios that divide us to open our eyes to our need for repentance? How would he stir us to see the blessing of God upon us all and available to us all?

Though the mark left by Jesus is two thousand years old, I imagine Jesus’ words and parables to us as people living in the world – regardless of the technological advances – continue to be the messages we read in Luke 15: Persistence. Repentance. Forgiveness. Celebration. Love.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Think of a time when you realized a story of criticism was calling you out. How did it feel to see yourself - your sinfulness - recognized? What did you do in response?

Daily Challenge

Say the Confession of Sin (BCP pg. 79). Then, read the Absolution: "Almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us all our sins through our Lord Jesus Christ, strengthen us in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep us in eternal life. Amen."

Sit in prayer, feeling joyful. Imagine God's deep joy in forgiving and welcoming you.

Let's Lament - November 7

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Joel 1:1-13; Rev. 18:15-24; Luke 14:12-24

Two weeks ago, I was invited to Samford University to answer a simple question with ten other clergy from different denominations: what is the role of lament in your worship? The first half of the conversation was focused on trying to understand how we use lament, and the second half was concerned with helping us to find tools to be more intentional about lament.  I was struck that at least two pastors mentioned that their congregations resist lament because they feel pressure for everything to always be happy and joyful. 

Maybe I was feeling a little self-righteous as I scoffed at the uninformed answer.  We Episcopalians are good at lamenting.  I mean we chant the Great Litany on the first Sunday in Lent, and we read the Psalms, even working through them every seven weeks in our cycle of Morning Prayer.  And my self-righteousness is only possible because of the liturgical nature of our worship.  If I’m honest, I’m not much different.  As a priest, I want people to leave worship hopeful, lifted up, encouraged, and … happy.  And, yes, I know ‘happy’ is rather shallow.

Today, we begin reading from prophet Joel. It begins with a harrowing description of a plague of locusts and then pivots to a military catastrophe that devastates the people. In this section, people are cut off from food, and their lands are devastated.  Later in Joel (2:11b), “Truly the day of the Lord is great; terrible indeed—who can endure it?” Joel is offering a lament, recognizing the pain that his people are going through.  It’s not a happy reading.

But here is why lament is important.  Life might be full of joy, but it is not always happy.  We walk through pain and suffering all of the time.  People can feel cut off from their livelihood and experience great suffering and lament reminds us that this is not a new experience and that God is with us.  Sometimes in naming what is unpleasant, we are then able to move to a more joyful place. 

I’d encourage you not to skip the tougher parts of the Bible.  Maybe those sections resonate today, or maybe they will resonate at another chapter in your life.  The stories are a reminder that no matter what we experience, God is always with us.  We might not be happy, but we will be comforted, and that is good news.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What role does lament play in your faith life?  Is there a certain feeling you expect to come away from at church? 

Daily Challenge: Make a list of things that are not working in your life.  Write them down, then crumble up the paper and throw it away.  How did it feel to name what isn’t working? 

Up to Our Necks - November 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Ecclus. 50:1,11-24; Rev. 17:1-18; Luke 13:31-35

Today’s Reflection

It’s healthy to be able to recognize when things are not going so well for us, to acknowledge that we are stuck and that we need some help to get unstuck. In order to get the support we need, we first must admit that we do, in fact, need a hand.

The psalm appointed for this morning shows us a vivid and familiar picture of what it is to feel completely overwhelmed by our life. As we read at the beginning of Psalm 69:

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 (Ps. 69: 1-4).

This psalm reminds me of a song called “Down in the Lowlands” by Charlie Peacock, who took Psalm 69 and made it his own (way back in 1986). Whenever I hear this psalm, I hear Peacock and his collaborator Vince Ebo as they give voice to this lament:

Down in the lowlands, where the water is deep,
Hear my cry, hear my shout,
Save me, save me,
Down in the lowlands, where the water is deep,
Hear my cry, hear my shout,
Save me, save me.

Could this be it?
Could I be drowning?
Have I failed to be heard by the only one who can save me?
Show me some mercy, and touch me again,
Please lift me up above where I am.

Whether in the original words of the psalmist, or in Peacock’s reimagining of it, Psalm 69 gives voice to that feeling of being overwhelmed by our life, whether as a nation or as a family or as an individual. As noted Psalms scholar Robert Alter confirms, “In this psalm, the familiar image of drowning as a metaphorical representation of near death is elaborated with arresting physiological concreteness: The rising waters come up to the neck; the speaker feels his feet slipping from underneath him in the water as he sinks into the mire; then the current sweeps him away.”

But fear not! Psalm 69 begins to take a hopeful turn. Beginning in verse 14, the psalmist says,

As for me, this is my prayer to you… ‘In your great mercy, O God, answer me with your unfailing help. Save me from the mire, do not let me sink… Answer me, O Lord, for your love is kind; in your great compassion, turn to me (Ps. 69: 14-18).

And then later in the psalm, we hear this:

The afflicted shall see and be glad; you who seek God, your heart shall live. For the Lord listens to the needy and his prisoners he does not despise (Ps. 69: 34-35).

When we are feeling most overwhelmed by the deep waters of troubling times, when it seems like there is no escaping whatever situation we find ourselves stuck in, it is good to know that we have a God who will hear our cry and will answer us. We have a God who will turn toward us and show us compassion.

But how does God hear us and show us this compassion? In my experience, God shows that he sees us and hears us when we show up for one another. When we turn toward a fellow human being who is crying out for help—whether they are asking with a loud shout or in a desperate whisper—we are showing God’s saving help and compassion to that person. Who is God asking you to turn toward today, to extend a hand to help free them from whatever deep mire they are stuck in right now?

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a time when you felt absolutely overwhelmed by life—or maybe that time for you is right now. Did someone come alongside you in a way that helped you keep believing in a God of love and compassion? What did that person say or do that helped you to feel seen, loved, and supported?

Daily Challenge

Ask God to show you someone in your circle of influence who may feel like they are drowning in deep waters or stuck in deep mire at this moment in their life. Listen for how God may be nudging you to be the person who gives them the support they need to get their feet back on dry land again.

All Souls' Day - November 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 130; PM Psalm 116:10-17; Isaiah 25:6-9; 1 Corinthians 15:50-58; John 5:24-27 

Today is the commemoration of All Souls’ Day, or the day we remember all of the faithful departed. It is an observance that sometimes gets swept up with All Saints’ Day. Often our prayers for the saints expand to involve those who are saints in our own lives. We may do this around this season, or on our own rhythms around a departed loved one’s birthday, date of death, or special anniversary.

The Mexican observance of Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) began in the 16th century and continues today, being acculturated into the variety of ways Americans bring celebration and memory, grief and fun together. This occasion is described as a big family reunion in which the deceased are the guests of honor. Through the creation of ofrendas (altars of remembrance), special photographs and items dear to the person who has died are featured and arranged in a decorative manner.

After my mom died, I created an ofrenda unwittingly. I kept photos of her arranged with her jewelry box, perfume, hairbrush, and glasses. I could not bear to move them. It became an altar – a meeting place where I would pause or sigh. I needed that little connection point, because I missed her so much.

In the scriptures appointed for All Souls’ Day, an excerpt from Isaiah 25 is offered. The Lord makes a promise to “swallow up death for ever” and “wipe away the tears from all faces” and “the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth”. In the midst of destruction and loss, God’s people of Israel need to hear this assurance relayed from the prophet Isaiah. They are lost and aggrieved, untethered to a place of home or comfort. These words of Isaiah resonate with me in times when I mourn, for I want to believe that God can bring the kind of change that wraps up death and life together, removing the need to weep and wallow.

Jesus reiterates this promise in the gospel according to John: “Very truly, I tell you, the hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. For just as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son also to have life in himself; and he has given him authority to execute judgement, because he is the Son of Man.” (5:25-27) God gives power to Jesus to share shouts of welcome, to call to the dead and those living. To call the name of each beloved child of God with the resonance of resurrection. To open our ears and bring us to everlasting life. It is beyond my ability to fully comprehend, and yet I am rapt with this promise. My mind does not always grasp it, but I feel it in my chest. I feel that reality. I feel that reconciling love that binds me together with those around me today and those who have died. I know that my Redeemer lives, and that Jesus will not leave me comfortless. He will not leave you either.

So whether you dance in the revelry of the Day of the Dead festivities at Sloss Furnaces tonight or offer prayers to God in thanksgiving for those who have died, hear the encouragement of the apostle Paul in his letter to the church in Corinth: “be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.”

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When someone you love dies, how do you go about saying goodbye? What physical items do you hold onto? How do you pray to God in those times of loss?

Daily Challenge

Take a moment to reflect more on All Souls' Day and those you know who have died. Write their names down. Pray the prayers (in traditional or contemporary language) found in this link.