Today, the prayer offered from church clergy is so beautiful I had to pass on to you.
Happy New Year!
Friday | December 31
"Words fitly spoken are things of beauty and power that bring life and joy." Dallas Willard "I write to discover what I know." Flannery O'Connor "I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn." --Anne Frank' "Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write." ― Rainer Maria Rilke
Today, the prayer offered from church clergy is so beautiful I had to pass on to you.
Happy New Year!
Friday | December 31
Do you believe in miracles?
When we read the story of Jesus feeding the 5000, we wonder how that miracle could happen. We shake our heads and try to find the meaning of the story. We read all four gospel versions to gain understanding. We learn Jesus and the disciples had been busy and they tried to remove themselves to rest, but the crowds pursued this new world Jesus was demonstrating in his love and compassion and care. They just couldn't get enough of him.
I find it interesting that in all four gospels, Jesus asks the disciples how the people should be fed. In all four gospels, he even says pointedly "You feed them." He already knows he will perform the miracle, but he tests the disciples to see if they trust him.
And then, Jesus blesses the food and feeds the crowd and there is an abundance of leftovers to share.
"And all ate and were filled; and they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish.
Mark 6:42-43
For me, this is symbolic of why the church offers the sacrament of Holy Communion and why it is important to participate.
Granted, because of the pandemic, we now receive it in what resembles a pill packet. The foil is peeled back to uncover a tiny bit of "bread of life, broken for you" Turn the packet over and peel back to receive "the cup of salvation poured out for you". It takes more introspection to receive the elements this way. It's not about a minister, or the beautiful chalice, or coming to the altar to receive it. It's just about our own heart tuned to the Giver and the gift we have all been given. A miracle.
Walter Brueggeman says Communion is the reminder: "Jesus has turned the world into abundance. God is the gift who keeps on giving and the people around Jesus are empowered to receive abundance and in turn, to act generously."
Are you astonished at the surplus in your life?
Maybe that's one miracle of Advent!
God of Endless Generosity,
In your love you welcomed when you were tired, you healed when you saw the needs of the helpless, you fed when you saw the hungry. And you showed us by your example what we should do for a hurting world. Help us to have the eyes to see, the ears to hear, and a heart to know your will.
Astound us, God, with your miraculous love.
(Celebrating Abundance by Walter Brueggeman. Westminster John Know Press. 2017)
:
I look out the window on this
beautifully ordered fall day and wonder too.
While in our best attempts to come
alongside, support those who are experiencing devastating loss, we can never
take the pain away. We can never fully feel the depth of their sorrow. We can
never make their lives feel normal again. We feel so helpless. We have no
words. We are awkward and confused ourselves. We are like the children, left wondering why
someone so important in their lives is now not coming home to dinner, not kicking
the ball in the park, not tucking them in bed and singing their favorite song.
While we have no human ability to
heal the broken hearts around us, the Bible says God will heal. Psalm 34:18
reminds us “The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are
crushed in spirit.”
We will never truly be set free
from the grief we carry with us – ours or someone else’s, but we can find comfort
in the simple coming alongside another in their pain. The gentle quiet of
spirit touching spirit, hearts anchored in an eternal longing that yearns for the
world to be made right moves us toward healing and hope. As a devotional read
this morning. “These longings and
desires—to be whole, to be a part of something beautiful—are a good thing. They
are not to be dismissed. They are given to us by God. They are inside of us
because we are made for eternity, for Heaven, for communion with the Holy Trinity
and with his saints. This is where our story is headed, our true home
where our grief is healed, and we are made whole again.”
As
believers, we have a home being prepared for us. Our story is not finished. Death does not have the final say. We are
created for an eternal home in Heaven. And because we have this kind of hope,
we discover we do have something to offer - we can comfort others by offering
all the physical things that represent peace, love, kindness, and goodness. It’s
different for each one because we all have different gifts, but when given in
love, offer up a pleasing aroma to the Lord.
Holy Week.
I could not help but consider the small, beautiful donkey
who led the procession during Palm Sunday worship. The service where palm
branches are waved, and the congregation senses the approaching events of the
week to come. The humble, lowly donkey – being led into Jerusalem, a symbol of
humility, yet kingship; a humble acceptance, yet a resolute commitment.
I could not help but wonder if we as church people
understood the symbolism.
As Christians we find ourselves wanting the fanfare, the
excitement and pomp of the liturgical seasons. And I must say, celebrating the
liturgical seasons has taught me much about the Christian year. But there’s so
much more. It should take us deeper into our understanding of the walk Jesus
would make, the final teachings he would offer his listeners, the continued lack
of understanding of his disciples.
But at some point, about mid-week, Jesus abruptly stops
teaching and departs from the crowd. I personally think maybe he had had
enough. Maybe he was tired of trying to show the people who He really was. Maybe
he knew he had to save his strength for what was to come.
He had to get away.
David Packer says in
his excellent Lenten devotional, A Journey To The Cross, “Christ withdrew to a
different type of service: to answer the call of separateness. Alone with God,
in the company of friends and disciples, He prepared for the trials that awaited
Him. The balance of Christ’s life, of time alone with God as well as time with
His followers gives us an example to follow. We need this in our lives. No one
is able to become all that they should be in Christ without spending time in private
devotion and prayer, communing with God privately.”
I love the above sentence, “ Alone with God, in the company
of friends and disciples, He prepared for the trials that awaited Him.”
I know from limited experience the value of time away.
Anyone who has gone on retreat knows the value of being still. Anyone who has
had to remove themselves from daily life due to illness or death can find
strength in stepping away. Anyone who has shared an intimate conversation over
a cup of coffee knows the restoration in gives. Jesus’ example of removing himself
to a quiet retreat with his closest is such a lesson for all of us today.
Here in the middle of the week, can you step away from the
to-do list? Push the “pause” button and reflect on this week and the pain, and
the passion, and the promise it holds for us. Call a relative or a friend and share
your ideas, your failures, your hopes, your faith.
Worship God. Accept others.
I think it is what Jesus was doing in the middle of Holy
Week.
I struggle with discipline. I've been meaning to write. I look at a half-finished manuscript and think about where to begin - again. Relieved of response, I answer the phone and walk away from the work that waits. I water the pots and fill the bird feeder and sweep the floor as I ponder the ease of distraction.
I order another copy of my favorite book on writing-Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. So witty, so real and poignant. She helps me laugh at myself and begin again. She says to write every day. Write something. Sit down at the same time every day and write. Put some thoughts down. And if no profound thoughts come, just write about the toast you had for breakfast or describe the workman outside your window spraying for weeds. Put the words down. No one will ever read it. Just observe and write. Why? Because something tugs at you.
So my writing exercise today is this: I've been thinking about the silver lining in our lives. These days, it seems every conversation of which I am a part, we agree on some silver lining as a result of pandemic isolation. The phrase "silver lining" can be defined as the good that comes out of bad, the bright side, or some kind of positive aspect that comes from a negative situation. We've all heard that every cloud has a silver lining. Now, I think, is the time we begin gathering the good, silver lining that is to be found from our year in seclusion. Yes, we must sift through much of the bad, but the good is there for those who work to find it.
As we begin to emerge from our cloud of pandemic isolation, I wonder what the silver linings will be for you. For me, just off the top of my head: Neighbors becoming better acquainted with one another. Exercising at home instead of going to the gym. Reading more books. Discovering more ways to cook chicken than thought possible. Dreaming of and planting a long-envisioned garden. "Zooming" with each other to keep the communication lines flowing for families, church/work committees, anniversary and birthday celebrations.
Like the butterfly, emerging takes time. And it does not happen without some effort or struggle involved. Like the butterfly, emerging has to happen in our own unique ways. For those of us who have survived we'll have to gradually let our barriers down, risk some interactions, take the baby steps in moving back into the world we love. For those who have experienced a harsher pandemic, it won't be so easy. Granted, the world won't be the same. We will miss some people we loved. We must mourn with those grieve. We must sift through all that was bad about this year and try to redeem all the good.
The question becomes, "Will I emerge from the cloud of isolation and be better as a result of it?" Even more important that those of us who managed to dodge the virus or financial loss, it is upon us to find every bit of good and share it however we can. We must never forget the tragedy of it all--lives lost, jobs lost, health lost, priorities rearranged. But if we can focus on all the silver linings, we can emerge as whole human beings, ready to fly - like the butterfly.
Light always overcomes darkness. Jesus said, "Behold, I am making all things new!"
The feast outside my window announces spring is on its way.
Somehow the robins know to come. Somehow the berries are perfect for the picking. It happens about this time every year. Just as the daffodils begin to shoot their green spikes from the frozen ground and the quince offers up a few bright pink buds, the rhythm of the seasons proclaim, "It's time."
The winter is quiet and still. Shorter days and cold temperatures beckon a daily fire in the fireplace. Our firewood man, Raymond, claims that those who enjoy fires in their fireplaces are happier people. I marvel at his philosophical thinking.
Agatha Christie once said, "I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know, quite certainly, that just to be alive is a grand thing."
As we have quietly moved through the winter months of this pandemic, we could all claim some despair, some sorrow, some misery, but I would venture to guess all of us love being alive. It is a grand thing as the mystery writer states.
Maybe the waiting for vaccines and the waiting for the numbers to decline has forced us to quiet ourselves enough to get in touch with the rhythms of life:
Stillness and action-
listening and decision.
These, according to Richard Foster, are the rhythms of God. He says, "It is in the everyday and commonplace that we learn patience, acceptance, and contentment." And so we look to nature or a crackling fire for our direction. We find assurance in a starry night or we comfort a friend who needs a listening ear. Everyday and commonplace occurrences - unique for each one and made available by the beating heart of God.
We must ask ourselves if we have learned anything during the recent months of winter quiet. Have we allowed ourselves to practice stillness? Have we waited to take action? Have we become a better listener and less hasty in our decision-making?
Are we more patient, accepting, and content?
Someone once said peace comes when we live in harmony with the rhythms of life, and joy comes when we catch the rhythm of God's heart.
We never know where the year will take us, do we?
This time last year we had no idea how carefree life was as we finalized plans for a golf trip to Ireland and a family beach vacation early summer. Little did we know the carefree planning would turn into an unforgettable year - one of fear, heartache, uncertainty and confusion. A year that taught us much about ourselves, our neighbors, and the way in which we socialize, shop, and worship. New words came into use - like shelter-in-place and quarantine, and Zoom..
And now it seems each of us knows someone who did not survive this dreaded virus. Hearts are broken and lives are changed forever. Psalm 34:18 reminds us that "The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and draws near to those who are crushed in spirit." When we cannot be close to our grieving friends, we can take comfort in asking God to be the arms around those who weep and mourn.
Elizabeth Kubler Ross, the Swiss American psychiatrist said, "It's only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on earth - and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up - that we will begin to live each day to the fullest, as if it was the only one we had."
And so, I guess it is fitting that this year's word is a phrase - Just Do Your Part. Living every day as if it is our only day left - it doesn't have to be spectacular. In fact, it can be as simple as picking up the dry-cleaning or making the chile the way he/she likes it. It might just be a friendly text - like today when my girlfriends texted about loving the Christmas season and leaving things up a little longer. All just doing their part to be kind to each other and have a little fun on a cold, wintry day.
What will your part be? When this year comes to a close - and it happens quickly - will you be able to say you did your part to help heal, to offer hope, to be kind, to forgive, to love, to learn and grow?
Eugene Peterson says it well in Romans 12:1-2
I don't understand how so many of us are shocked at the White House security breach. Horrified, we watch and cry out, "This doesn't happen in America!"
It doesn't?
If this sort of thing does not happen in America, then please tell me what has been going on for the last year. For probably over a year, we have watched similar breaches throughout our country - businesses burned to the ground, cities destroyed, lives lost or changed forever and very seldom have we cried out "This does not happen in America!"
No. Instead, we have watched the destruction across our land and called it a peaceful protest.
We have read the statistics about the rate of homicides that have sky-rocketed across our beautiful America and we cannot help but wonder if this, too, is part of the breach in our divided country. When it hits home and a precious 7-year-old is murdered down the street from where I live, I'd say there is more than a security breach at our capital building, but a breaking down of our very neighborhoods.
Breach is defined, according to Webster, as an act of breaking or failing to observe a law, agreement, or code of conduct. It is also defined as a gap in a wall, barrier, or defense, especially one made by an attacking army. We could make a long list of "breaches" that have occurred in our community, our country, and our world throughout history.
People have been disobeying the law for a long time. And there are consequences according to God's Law. (I was recently reminded by a wise young woman that a distinction needs to be made between God's Law and Man's Law.) Read some of the Old Testament and you will see how over and over the Israelites disobeyed God. Over and over there were "breaches" where God removed himself and just let the people have their wicked ways. They suffered mightily, repented, and returned to God's favor. Not without consequences though. Look at poor Moses - he wandered around for 40 years in the desert because his people would not enter the land of plenty. And when Joshua led the people into the promised land poor Moses was not allowed to enter. Consequences.
These words are all synonyms for the word "breach":
fracture, crack, rent, opening, alienation, split, rift, schism, separation; dissension.
Whatever you want to call it....however you wish to define it, we (as Christians) find ourselves more and more at a crossroads in our faith. Henry Blackaby, author of Experiencing God, calls this a "crisis of belief". As Christians, we must decide - will we face the future armed with our faith intact? If so, then we must take action as we wait and watch to see where God is working. Staying close to the Lord, asking his guidance, seeking his will, is the best course of action when we are at a loss of what to do in a complex and confusing world. There would be fewer breaches if we all put God first.
I believe God is in total control of this breach, along with the many other fractures, separations, and cracks that we have all helped to create. May He forgive us of our sins and guide us through to His Light.
In God We Trust.