(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
Anyone remember New Years Eve, 1999? All the hype and fear surrounding the world’s passage into the year 2000 – you’d think we’d never entered a new millennium before. Well, of course, none of us had – and never before had the world run on computer systems that no one was quite sure would adapt to dates beginning with “2.” How many of us stocked extra water and flashlight batteries that week? And then went out and partied like it was 1999 – because, really, what else are you going to do? Things will work out, or they’ll be challenging. Pop the corks and strike up the band.
We sure do like to know what’s going to happen next year, next day, next hour. And every once in awhile something comes along to remind us how little control we really have over our circumstances. Maybe King Herod had such a moment in our story, hearing from foreign dignitaries of celestial indications that a king had been born for the Jews.
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired where the Messiah was to be born.
“But wait,” he might have thought, “I am the king of the Jews. Sure, I’m corrupt and despotic and completely at the mercy of my Roman overlords – but I AM the king… aren’t I?”
Whatever he thought, Herod’s unease was profound enough to infect his entire community – anxiety has a way of spreading into the systems in which we operate. And most of us, when we fear our well-being is threatened, will go into control mode: we will seek information and amass expertise and plan strategies, all to gain a sense of mastery over a situation we really can’t control. Herod gathered all the religious leaders and prophetic types and asked them to speak the unknowable, that which God had not yet revealed.
Today, as we move through the last day of the year, a year of gains and losses, of achievements and challenges, of death and life – what causes the most anxiety in you? What do you want to know that you cannot yet know, because the time for that has not yet come? A good year-end exercise might be to name those things and invite Jesus to sift them with you. Light a candle, and make a list.
And what are some changes you would embrace? How might you like to see your circumstances improved? It’s good to pray into those desires, inviting God to put flesh on your hopes and dreams as they align with God’s dreams for you. The best prayer of all is this: What dreams is God inviting you to put flesh on today? And in the year to come?
I pray that this New Year’s Eve will offer us some time for reflection before we go hurtling into the next year... On the other hand, it’s just one 24-hour period passing into another – that happens every day. So sit back, chill out – or go out and party like it’s 2019!
12-28-18 - Use Your Words
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
“Use your words.” I never thought to compare the God who rules the universe with a pre-verbal toddler, struggling to make herself understood, but that’s what came to mind as I thought about the holy mystery at the heart of Christmas:
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth…
Why was the Incarnation of God’s Son necessary? In part, because of a communications breakdown. Humankind could not understand the language in which God was speaking. We could not understand who God was. God had to use his Word – and give that Word flesh and send that Word to “pitch tent” among us and sojourn with us for a time, so that he could make God known to us.
No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
The human Jesus himself is worthy of our interest and attention and devotion. But if we forget that all that love and power and mercy and holiness and desire for justice was revealing to us who God is, we miss more than half the point. Jesus, the Son “close to the Father’s heart,” was about demonstrating how things work in the realm of God, the Life of God. He was showing us God, making God known.
At Christmas we celebrate God made known in the most vulnerable of states – and yet powerful enough to command the attention of kings and angels. And, I hope, compelling enough to command our attention and love, in this season when we celebrate his wondrous birth.
God has used is Word to make God’s love known. Today, and every day, we can use our words to make God’s love known to one another, to draw each other closer to the Father’s heart.
“Use your words.” I never thought to compare the God who rules the universe with a pre-verbal toddler, struggling to make herself understood, but that’s what came to mind as I thought about the holy mystery at the heart of Christmas:
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth…
Why was the Incarnation of God’s Son necessary? In part, because of a communications breakdown. Humankind could not understand the language in which God was speaking. We could not understand who God was. God had to use his Word – and give that Word flesh and send that Word to “pitch tent” among us and sojourn with us for a time, so that he could make God known to us.
No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
The human Jesus himself is worthy of our interest and attention and devotion. But if we forget that all that love and power and mercy and holiness and desire for justice was revealing to us who God is, we miss more than half the point. Jesus, the Son “close to the Father’s heart,” was about demonstrating how things work in the realm of God, the Life of God. He was showing us God, making God known.
At Christmas we celebrate God made known in the most vulnerable of states – and yet powerful enough to command the attention of kings and angels. And, I hope, compelling enough to command our attention and love, in this season when we celebrate his wondrous birth.
God has used is Word to make God’s love known. Today, and every day, we can use our words to make God’s love known to one another, to draw each other closer to the Father’s heart.
12-27-18 - Made Children of God
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
People often say that Christmas is for children. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that it is a holiday best enjoyed by those whose capacity for wonder and enchantment is untarnished, who still believe in what cannot be seen, who love the anticipation of wrapped gifts and visiting family.
The run-up to Christmas can leave me feeling a little tarnished, or at least tired. So what good news it is to hear that I have received power to become a child again!
He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
Not everyone accepts the Light of the World; some have grown accustomed to the familiarity of shadows. Not everyone wants light shined in dark places. And by our own strength, we cannot always turn ourselves toward the Light. John suggests that it is Jesus who gives us power to become children of God. We become God’s children not by virtue of lineage or procreation or our own will, but by the power of God which comes from outside us and takes root inside us.
How do we claim – or reclaim – our identity as children of God? How might that reawaken our sense of wonder and delight? It might help to remember that children do not usually feel responsible for everything the way adults tend to do. Can we remind each other that we’re not actually in charge of making things right for everyone?
And children don’t generally let life’s disappointments diminish their ability to expect good things. Remember when there was one gift you were so hoping would be there under the tree? What would that be for you now?
Maybe I need to sit under my barely decorated Christmas tree for a little while and remember the gift I am, the gifts I have been given, the Gift of Love whose birth we celebrate. That just might help me rediscover the joy of being claimed as beloved by that Love, and let my “inner child of God” come out and play a bit.
People often say that Christmas is for children. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that it is a holiday best enjoyed by those whose capacity for wonder and enchantment is untarnished, who still believe in what cannot be seen, who love the anticipation of wrapped gifts and visiting family.
The run-up to Christmas can leave me feeling a little tarnished, or at least tired. So what good news it is to hear that I have received power to become a child again!
He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
Not everyone accepts the Light of the World; some have grown accustomed to the familiarity of shadows. Not everyone wants light shined in dark places. And by our own strength, we cannot always turn ourselves toward the Light. John suggests that it is Jesus who gives us power to become children of God. We become God’s children not by virtue of lineage or procreation or our own will, but by the power of God which comes from outside us and takes root inside us.
How do we claim – or reclaim – our identity as children of God? How might that reawaken our sense of wonder and delight? It might help to remember that children do not usually feel responsible for everything the way adults tend to do. Can we remind each other that we’re not actually in charge of making things right for everyone?
And children don’t generally let life’s disappointments diminish their ability to expect good things. Remember when there was one gift you were so hoping would be there under the tree? What would that be for you now?
Maybe I need to sit under my barely decorated Christmas tree for a little while and remember the gift I am, the gifts I have been given, the Gift of Love whose birth we celebrate. That just might help me rediscover the joy of being claimed as beloved by that Love, and let my “inner child of God” come out and play a bit.
12-26-18 - Witness to the Light
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
Many people are busy bearing witness to darkness, often in destructive ways, seeming to delight in pointing out just how awful this situation or that person is. And there are many who bear witness to the darkness of pain and injustice and oppression, which is an important step in remedying such conditions. That is part of our calling as followers of Christ.
But with it comes an even more important calling: to bear witness to the light. That was the vocation of John the Baptist, a holy man who was not the Holy One, whose mission it was to bear witness to the coming light:
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
The world badly needs more of us to testify to the light – the light that came into the world in the embodied Christ, and is ever coming in through his Body now, the Church.
Today, as we digest our Christmas puddings and clean up the wrapping paper, let’s take some time to reflect on where the light of Christ is most visible. And then find someone and bear witness to that hope. Where do you find yourself called to testify to the light, to proclaim in the face of poverty or evil, illness or lies the triumph of God’s light – even if things still look pretty dark? If we want to be effective at offering that counter-testimony to so much of what passes for truth, we have to be aware of where we experience the light of Christ, what darkness we have known to be enlightened by the presence and love of God.
What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
The life of God is here already, full, vibrant, but we need faith vision to see it. In Christ's Spirit, we have been given that vision, to discern the life that is coming, to see the life that is. As we become able to focus on this future that is already here, we can anticipate with hope, expecting blessing. We are able to believe that healing can come in the starkest of situations, conversion in the darkest of hearts.
And we come to see that what looked like complete darkness is in fact a beautiful night, lit by the Light of the World.
Many people are busy bearing witness to darkness, often in destructive ways, seeming to delight in pointing out just how awful this situation or that person is. And there are many who bear witness to the darkness of pain and injustice and oppression, which is an important step in remedying such conditions. That is part of our calling as followers of Christ.
But with it comes an even more important calling: to bear witness to the light. That was the vocation of John the Baptist, a holy man who was not the Holy One, whose mission it was to bear witness to the coming light:
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
The world badly needs more of us to testify to the light – the light that came into the world in the embodied Christ, and is ever coming in through his Body now, the Church.
Today, as we digest our Christmas puddings and clean up the wrapping paper, let’s take some time to reflect on where the light of Christ is most visible. And then find someone and bear witness to that hope. Where do you find yourself called to testify to the light, to proclaim in the face of poverty or evil, illness or lies the triumph of God’s light – even if things still look pretty dark? If we want to be effective at offering that counter-testimony to so much of what passes for truth, we have to be aware of where we experience the light of Christ, what darkness we have known to be enlightened by the presence and love of God.
What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
The life of God is here already, full, vibrant, but we need faith vision to see it. In Christ's Spirit, we have been given that vision, to discern the life that is coming, to see the life that is. As we become able to focus on this future that is already here, we can anticipate with hope, expecting blessing. We are able to believe that healing can come in the starkest of situations, conversion in the darkest of hearts.
And we come to see that what looked like complete darkness is in fact a beautiful night, lit by the Light of the World.
12-25-18 - Christmas the Prequel
(You can listen to this reflection here.)
Merry Christmas! Jesus is born, the gang’s all assembled at the manger. I hope your gang is assembling somewhere too to enjoy presents and dinner and chatter and love. But this is only the first day of Christmas. The world around us might jettison the trees and start putting up Valentine’s Day decorations tomorrow, but Christ followers are invited to live fully into this 12-day season of holiday holiness and cheer.
Next Sunday is the first Sunday in the season of Christmas. As always, the gospel reading appointed is the passage that opens John’s Gospel. Where Luke and Matthew begin their accounts with the birth of Jesus, and Mark just jumps in thirty years later when Jesus begins his public ministry, John goes deep into the pre-history. Way, way deep, to infinity and beyond. “In the beginning,” he begins, and by that he means before everything. Before anything was, when there was only God, God had a thought and it issued forth as a word, a word with the power of genesis.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.
Before we get to the manger and the animals, the shepherds and the angels, the magi and the evil king, before we even get to Mary and her stranger-than-fiction pregnancy, we have this: a word. Not just any word: The Word. God’s Word – and God’s word is more than words. God’s word has the power to make real what did not exist before. God’s word is active, life-making. God’s word is creative, world-making.
How many eons did that Word exist before the time came for him to be given human life, to enter human history? And why did he come into visible being that night in Bethlehem?
There are ever more questions than answers. I only want us to hold this mystery as we worship at the manger this year: that the One whose birth we celebrate was the One who gave birth to us.
A blessed Feast of the Incarnation to you.
Merry Christmas! Jesus is born, the gang’s all assembled at the manger. I hope your gang is assembling somewhere too to enjoy presents and dinner and chatter and love. But this is only the first day of Christmas. The world around us might jettison the trees and start putting up Valentine’s Day decorations tomorrow, but Christ followers are invited to live fully into this 12-day season of holiday holiness and cheer.
Next Sunday is the first Sunday in the season of Christmas. As always, the gospel reading appointed is the passage that opens John’s Gospel. Where Luke and Matthew begin their accounts with the birth of Jesus, and Mark just jumps in thirty years later when Jesus begins his public ministry, John goes deep into the pre-history. Way, way deep, to infinity and beyond. “In the beginning,” he begins, and by that he means before everything. Before anything was, when there was only God, God had a thought and it issued forth as a word, a word with the power of genesis.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.
Before we get to the manger and the animals, the shepherds and the angels, the magi and the evil king, before we even get to Mary and her stranger-than-fiction pregnancy, we have this: a word. Not just any word: The Word. God’s Word – and God’s word is more than words. God’s word has the power to make real what did not exist before. God’s word is active, life-making. God’s word is creative, world-making.
How many eons did that Word exist before the time came for him to be given human life, to enter human history? And why did he come into visible being that night in Bethlehem?
There are ever more questions than answers. I only want us to hold this mystery as we worship at the manger this year: that the One whose birth we celebrate was the One who gave birth to us.
A blessed Feast of the Incarnation to you.
12-24-18 - Encounter on a Hillside
This Christmas Eve, let’s hear from a shepherd and an angel on a moonlit hillside. You can listen to this reflection here. The Gospel reading is here.
A shepherd picks himself up; his companions are still on the ground, awestruck. He belches, turns around – and staggers back at the sight of an angel 1,000 feet tall, filling the sky.
Shepherd: You’re still here.
Angel: Yes… What a beautiful night on earth.
S: There were thousands of you a minute ago.
A: Oh, we couldn’t leave anyone out of this mission. Everyone wanted to come tonight. So often our message is hard; or it’s good news, but with a challenge. This was the purest, the best, the greatest news ever – the move we’ve been waiting for the Creator to make, waiting for all eternity, it feels like.
S: Did you tell lots of people?
A: No – just you and your friends.
S: Why us? Why come to a bunch of guys like us? We’re just shepherds… smelly, crude…
A shepherd picks himself up; his companions are still on the ground, awestruck. He belches, turns around – and staggers back at the sight of an angel 1,000 feet tall, filling the sky.
Shepherd: You’re still here.
Angel: Yes… What a beautiful night on earth.
S: There were thousands of you a minute ago.
A: Oh, we couldn’t leave anyone out of this mission. Everyone wanted to come tonight. So often our message is hard; or it’s good news, but with a challenge. This was the purest, the best, the greatest news ever – the move we’ve been waiting for the Creator to make, waiting for all eternity, it feels like.
S: Did you tell lots of people?
A: No – just you and your friends.
S: Why us? Why come to a bunch of guys like us? We’re just shepherds… smelly, crude…
Nobody talks to us.
A: Who better? You’re living outside, in this field – practically homeless. You need to know God has heard you, has not forgotten you, any of you, rich or poor, whole or broken. That the savior has been born.
S: In a stable in Bethlehem? Who’s going to listen to that crazy story? Who’s going to listen to us?
A: Oh, no one will believe you if you just tell them I said so. That you were just minding your own business while the sheep slept – and a host of angels appeared to you and told you something about good will toward men and going to find a baby in a feed trough? They’ll think you got a particularly bad batch of rotgut. But if you go and see for yourselves – you will be such amazing witnesses, people will believe because of your confidence in what you’ve seen.
S: You’re right about it being a crazy story…
A: Believe me – this is a story they’re going to want to hear. And believe. You will be the first to tell the story of how the world changed overnight. People will be talking about you thousands of years from now. So go – run to Bethlehem. See what I have told you. And then tell it, everywhere.
S: Go. See. Tell. Okay. He rouses the other shepherds.
Come on guys, get up. it’s not over. We have to get to Bethlehem and see if this is true!
He turns back to the angel, but the sky is now clear, just a deep blue with bright shining stars.
Oh. I was going to say goodbye. And thank you.
Hey, who you talking to, man?
And on the breeze the faint flutter of wings and for just a moment a sound like all of heaven is singing. And then the silence of a clear, cold night.
So, who are you going to tell?
A: Who better? You’re living outside, in this field – practically homeless. You need to know God has heard you, has not forgotten you, any of you, rich or poor, whole or broken. That the savior has been born.
S: In a stable in Bethlehem? Who’s going to listen to that crazy story? Who’s going to listen to us?
A: Oh, no one will believe you if you just tell them I said so. That you were just minding your own business while the sheep slept – and a host of angels appeared to you and told you something about good will toward men and going to find a baby in a feed trough? They’ll think you got a particularly bad batch of rotgut. But if you go and see for yourselves – you will be such amazing witnesses, people will believe because of your confidence in what you’ve seen.
S: You’re right about it being a crazy story…
A: Believe me – this is a story they’re going to want to hear. And believe. You will be the first to tell the story of how the world changed overnight. People will be talking about you thousands of years from now. So go – run to Bethlehem. See what I have told you. And then tell it, everywhere.
S: Go. See. Tell. Okay. He rouses the other shepherds.
Come on guys, get up. it’s not over. We have to get to Bethlehem and see if this is true!
He turns back to the angel, but the sky is now clear, just a deep blue with bright shining stars.
Oh. I was going to say goodbye. And thank you.
Hey, who you talking to, man?
And on the breeze the faint flutter of wings and for just a moment a sound like all of heaven is singing. And then the silence of a clear, cold night.
So, who are you going to tell?
12-22-18 - Another Song of Mary
Saturday bonus - more reflection on Mary, in words she might have used...You can listen to this reflection here.
I was not reading, or sewing, as the pictures have it.
If you must know, I was finishing dressing after a morning bath,
I was not reading, or sewing, as the pictures have it.
If you must know, I was finishing dressing after a morning bath,
my clothes scarcely fastened before this intruder stood before me, challenging my modesty.
“Do not be afraid, Mary.”
I was not afraid because I thought him an intruder.
I was afraid because I knew what he was,
the whiff of heaven unmistakable, the light almost unbearable.
“Oh shit,” I thought.“This cannot be good. God wants something from me.”
But never in a million eternities could I have imagined what.
My very flesh, the body God himself crafted, now to be indwelled by holy presence?
And that presence to leave a residue
that would take form as an embryo,
then human miniature
then – flesh, blood, shape, substance, soul, spirit?
Is this what it means to find favor with God?
Why is God turning my world upside down?
Or… could it be that God is turning the whole world upside down?
Righting all the wrongs, restoring all the rights,
lifting up the downcast, casting down the powerful?
Will the hungry be fed, and the oppressed be freed…
because of the one who will come through me?
Is this how God will fulfill the promises made to our ancestors?
Am I to be God’s promise-bearer?
“Do not be afraid, Mary.”
I was not afraid because I thought him an intruder.
I was afraid because I knew what he was,
the whiff of heaven unmistakable, the light almost unbearable.
“Oh shit,” I thought.“This cannot be good. God wants something from me.”
But never in a million eternities could I have imagined what.
My very flesh, the body God himself crafted, now to be indwelled by holy presence?
And that presence to leave a residue
that would take form as an embryo,
then human miniature
then – flesh, blood, shape, substance, soul, spirit?
Is this what it means to find favor with God?
Why is God turning my world upside down?
Or… could it be that God is turning the whole world upside down?
Righting all the wrongs, restoring all the rights,
lifting up the downcast, casting down the powerful?
Will the hungry be fed, and the oppressed be freed…
because of the one who will come through me?
Is this how God will fulfill the promises made to our ancestors?
Am I to be God’s promise-bearer?
12-21-18 - Revolutionary Mary
(You can listen to this reflection here.)
Mary is often depicted in art as quiet and pensive, her gaze downcast. Perhaps artists thought this conveyed her deep devotion, and then it became a convention, like her association with the color blue. But if I were drawing a picture of Mary, her face would be upturned, her eyes toward heaven, and her expression fierce and energized.
This Mary portrayed in Luke's Gospel is not “round yon virgin tender and mild.” (I know, it’s the holy infant who’s tender and mild, and love’s pure light that’s “round” her... but as a child I thought she was round...) She is quick and tough, brave and prophetic, alive to the cosmic implications of what God is doing in her as well as the personal ones.
Mary’s Magnificat is not the song of a meek young woman – it is the cry of a revolutionary who sees in her own chosenness God’s redemption of all the little people, and the bringing low of those who wield power. It foresees equitable distribution of wealth, power, justice. This is Occupy Jerusalem, circa Year O, AD:
God’s mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
It is impossible to take economics and politics out of the Christmas story – or out of any of the Christian story. This Advent these themes ring loudly, as we witness deplorable treatment of refugees on our southern border, and crises and divisions in the world and at home.
It is also impossible to take the women out of the story. Over and over in the Bible, we see God work through strong, faithful, opinionated, courageous women to accomplish God’s purposes. Mary of Nazareth, like Mary of Magdala and Mary and Martha of Bethany, is the recipient of God’s revelation in Christ, and is able to connect the dots between Jesus and cosmic redemption.
Mary’s willingness to say yes, in faith and obedience, are part of what make her holy. But there’s so much more to her. Can we take the time to get to know her more fully, not just a stained glass saint but a flesh and blood girl, who shed her blood and shared her flesh so that the Redeemer might be born? Who bore that “sword piercing her heart” as she watched her precious firstborn court danger and ultimately face a brutal death? Who must have returned again and again to these words of prophecy when it looked like power and evil were winning and the hungry continued to lose out to the well-fed?
I never thought of Mary as a role model – but in the era of girl power and #MeToo, let's take a closer look. Let's heed her call to justice, only partially achieved 2000 years later. Each time we stand with her and bring justice into being, we join her song and make it more true. (Here is a rousing hymnic version of the Magnificat). In the fullness of time, it is the song all the universe will sing.
Mary is often depicted in art as quiet and pensive, her gaze downcast. Perhaps artists thought this conveyed her deep devotion, and then it became a convention, like her association with the color blue. But if I were drawing a picture of Mary, her face would be upturned, her eyes toward heaven, and her expression fierce and energized.
This Mary portrayed in Luke's Gospel is not “round yon virgin tender and mild.” (I know, it’s the holy infant who’s tender and mild, and love’s pure light that’s “round” her... but as a child I thought she was round...) She is quick and tough, brave and prophetic, alive to the cosmic implications of what God is doing in her as well as the personal ones.
Mary’s Magnificat is not the song of a meek young woman – it is the cry of a revolutionary who sees in her own chosenness God’s redemption of all the little people, and the bringing low of those who wield power. It foresees equitable distribution of wealth, power, justice. This is Occupy Jerusalem, circa Year O, AD:
God’s mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
It is impossible to take economics and politics out of the Christmas story – or out of any of the Christian story. This Advent these themes ring loudly, as we witness deplorable treatment of refugees on our southern border, and crises and divisions in the world and at home.
It is also impossible to take the women out of the story. Over and over in the Bible, we see God work through strong, faithful, opinionated, courageous women to accomplish God’s purposes. Mary of Nazareth, like Mary of Magdala and Mary and Martha of Bethany, is the recipient of God’s revelation in Christ, and is able to connect the dots between Jesus and cosmic redemption.
Mary’s willingness to say yes, in faith and obedience, are part of what make her holy. But there’s so much more to her. Can we take the time to get to know her more fully, not just a stained glass saint but a flesh and blood girl, who shed her blood and shared her flesh so that the Redeemer might be born? Who bore that “sword piercing her heart” as she watched her precious firstborn court danger and ultimately face a brutal death? Who must have returned again and again to these words of prophecy when it looked like power and evil were winning and the hungry continued to lose out to the well-fed?
I never thought of Mary as a role model – but in the era of girl power and #MeToo, let's take a closer look. Let's heed her call to justice, only partially achieved 2000 years later. Each time we stand with her and bring justice into being, we join her song and make it more true. (Here is a rousing hymnic version of the Magnificat). In the fullness of time, it is the song all the universe will sing.
12-20-18 - Magnified
(You can listen to this reflection here.)
There are times when we are filled with gratitude and grace, aware that God is real and has acted in our lives. These are the moments when our spirits swell and words of praise burst forth from us. As Luke tells the story, Mary experienced such a moment when Elizabeth confirmed that the baby she was carrying was indeed the Lord of heaven and earth.
Who knows what she actually said – Luke was not there, after all. But he gave beautiful shape to words she may have spoken, words that are both humble and grand, personal and global, rooted in Israel’s past and the glorious promise of deliverance to come, proclaiming justice and mercy:
And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation."
I’ve always puzzled about the word “magnified” here. I think of magnifying as what you do to make something appear bigger than it is, and God needs no magnification. If anything, God needs to be brought down to a scale we can reckon with (one way of thinking about the Incarnation…). It’s not Mary’s soul that magnifies God, but the Spirit that has magnified Mary’s spirit, expanded it, filled it.
Sometimes our spirits feel very small and pinched, like a tire without air. We need the breath of life that comes from realizing – again – how very great God is, and how very near God’s love, to refill our spirits and make them bigger than they were. Not for nothing are the words "pneuma,"for spirit, and "pneumatic" related.
Events and experiences can magnify our spirits. At other times we need to rely on our memory of how God has acted in the past, and our faith in the promise of restoration to come. That’s why we pray, setting aside time to remember and claim God’s promises and allow that remembering and claiming to lead to proclaiming the Good News.
How about this for a spiritual exercise, today or this weekend: Write your own hymn of praise, your Magnificat. What would you say in praise? What great things has the Mighty One done for you? Where has God shown the strength of his arm? Where do you want to see justice break forth?
What a wonderful way to prepare to celebrate Jesus’ birth, and to honor the woman who bore him into the world, in whom God was truly magnified in every possible way.
There are times when we are filled with gratitude and grace, aware that God is real and has acted in our lives. These are the moments when our spirits swell and words of praise burst forth from us. As Luke tells the story, Mary experienced such a moment when Elizabeth confirmed that the baby she was carrying was indeed the Lord of heaven and earth.
Who knows what she actually said – Luke was not there, after all. But he gave beautiful shape to words she may have spoken, words that are both humble and grand, personal and global, rooted in Israel’s past and the glorious promise of deliverance to come, proclaiming justice and mercy:
And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation."
I’ve always puzzled about the word “magnified” here. I think of magnifying as what you do to make something appear bigger than it is, and God needs no magnification. If anything, God needs to be brought down to a scale we can reckon with (one way of thinking about the Incarnation…). It’s not Mary’s soul that magnifies God, but the Spirit that has magnified Mary’s spirit, expanded it, filled it.
Sometimes our spirits feel very small and pinched, like a tire without air. We need the breath of life that comes from realizing – again – how very great God is, and how very near God’s love, to refill our spirits and make them bigger than they were. Not for nothing are the words "pneuma,"for spirit, and "pneumatic" related.
Events and experiences can magnify our spirits. At other times we need to rely on our memory of how God has acted in the past, and our faith in the promise of restoration to come. That’s why we pray, setting aside time to remember and claim God’s promises and allow that remembering and claiming to lead to proclaiming the Good News.
How about this for a spiritual exercise, today or this weekend: Write your own hymn of praise, your Magnificat. What would you say in praise? What great things has the Mighty One done for you? Where has God shown the strength of his arm? Where do you want to see justice break forth?
What a wonderful way to prepare to celebrate Jesus’ birth, and to honor the woman who bore him into the world, in whom God was truly magnified in every possible way.
12-19-19 - Blessed Is She
(You can listen to this reflection here.)
It can be exhausting "doing ministry” at this time of year. Getting Christmas together for a community, not to mention myself. Writing sermons and press releases, posting events and hosting services, visiting the sick; the list is endless.
And all God really wants from me and you is that we believe. That we believe God’s promises. That we believe God’s power. That we trust God’s presence and goodness and gifts.
One of the most powerful elements of the story of Mary and Elizabeth’s encounter that we are exploring this week is Elizabeth’s simple statement about what makes Mary blessed: “And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”
Simply taking God at God’s word is all we really need to do. That’s what garnered Abraham righteousness in God’s sight, according to St. Paul; not what he did or said, but his believing God’s crazy promise about a son. Mary received a pretty crazy promise about a son too – even more outrageous than Abraham’s. But she said “Yes,” and she took action on what that promise was. Her coming to see Elizabeth was one of the ways she put believing into action.
What promises has God made to us? There are general promises we can find in Scripture – like the promise of peace in the midst of anxiety (Philippians 4), the promise of Christ’s presence always (Matthew 28), the promise of the Holy Spirit (Luke 11). Peace, presence, power – not a bad start.
And sometimes we discern specific promises. Perhaps you’ve sensed God inviting you into a specific ministry and blessing, with some clarity about what will unfold. If the Bible is any indication, these sorts of callings can often seem far-fetched. It might be easy to dismiss them, or try to ignore them, especially in an age when we are not surrounded by people of faith who can help us confirm them spiritually.
Are there any crazy God promises you feel called to believe? If they’re really unusual, check your discernment with other people of faith, and keep praying. If you get a yes, take the first step.
Sometimes God might work through us in a way that we didn’t expect or were scarcely aware of, but in general we need to believe that God will do what God has promised in order to be an effective channel; It’s tricky like that. Acting in faith in such a way that our lives and priorities actually begin to be transformed is a matter of believing that what the Lord has spoken, the Lord will bring into being.
And sometimes we are the means through which God brings his promises to fulfillment.
It can be exhausting "doing ministry” at this time of year. Getting Christmas together for a community, not to mention myself. Writing sermons and press releases, posting events and hosting services, visiting the sick; the list is endless.
And all God really wants from me and you is that we believe. That we believe God’s promises. That we believe God’s power. That we trust God’s presence and goodness and gifts.
One of the most powerful elements of the story of Mary and Elizabeth’s encounter that we are exploring this week is Elizabeth’s simple statement about what makes Mary blessed: “And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”
Simply taking God at God’s word is all we really need to do. That’s what garnered Abraham righteousness in God’s sight, according to St. Paul; not what he did or said, but his believing God’s crazy promise about a son. Mary received a pretty crazy promise about a son too – even more outrageous than Abraham’s. But she said “Yes,” and she took action on what that promise was. Her coming to see Elizabeth was one of the ways she put believing into action.
What promises has God made to us? There are general promises we can find in Scripture – like the promise of peace in the midst of anxiety (Philippians 4), the promise of Christ’s presence always (Matthew 28), the promise of the Holy Spirit (Luke 11). Peace, presence, power – not a bad start.
And sometimes we discern specific promises. Perhaps you’ve sensed God inviting you into a specific ministry and blessing, with some clarity about what will unfold. If the Bible is any indication, these sorts of callings can often seem far-fetched. It might be easy to dismiss them, or try to ignore them, especially in an age when we are not surrounded by people of faith who can help us confirm them spiritually.
Are there any crazy God promises you feel called to believe? If they’re really unusual, check your discernment with other people of faith, and keep praying. If you get a yes, take the first step.
Sometimes God might work through us in a way that we didn’t expect or were scarcely aware of, but in general we need to believe that God will do what God has promised in order to be an effective channel; It’s tricky like that. Acting in faith in such a way that our lives and priorities actually begin to be transformed is a matter of believing that what the Lord has spoken, the Lord will bring into being.
And sometimes we are the means through which God brings his promises to fulfillment.
12-18-18 - The Kick Felt 'Round the World
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
Imagine what it must have been like for a post-menopausal woman to be pregnant for the first time. Perhaps now, infertility technology being what it is, some women have experienced that. But in back-country Judea in the waning BCE, it must have been a challenge for Elizabeth, so long childless and now suddenly, wondrously, filled with new life.
And here comes Mary, herself mysteriously, wondrously with child. The unborn one inside Elizabeth begins to do somersaults: 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 leaped in her womb.
And now another life stirs within her, more familiar than the one in her womb. The Holy Spirit of God fills her and she gives full voice to her praise: 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 leaped for joy. "
If Mary came seeking confirmation of the angel’s message, God delivered that in abundance. And if Elizabeth had any doubts about God’s purposes in her own unlikely pregnancy, these also were laid to rest. Now she knew for certain that the child she was carrying had a holy destiny. With great humility and gratitude, she praised the Holy One and confirmed that the child in Mary’s womb is her Lord. What a moment. No wonder this encounter is among the most frequently painted of Biblical scenes.
Yesterday I asked you to consider what new life might be stirring inside you, what new purposes, plans, projects, passions. If we want these to grow and develop, we have to nurture them along, not ignore them until the time comes for them to be born. We have to feed them, and make room for them to kick, even leap and do backflips.
I wish I knew how to make that room. Partly, is insisting on time for quiet and inactivity, as challenging as that can be in our 24/7 world. It means taking walks, and tea breaks, writing in a journal, and yes, committing to quiet prayer time each day, a spiritual discipline that so often eludes me. God may be speaking volumes, but if we never check in, how are we going to know? It's pre-natal care for the spirit.
And when we do feel the kicks? When we do feel ourselves filled with the Holy Spirit? Give voice with a loud cry and proclaim your blessedness!
Imagine what it must have been like for a post-menopausal woman to be pregnant for the first time. Perhaps now, infertility technology being what it is, some women have experienced that. But in back-country Judea in the waning BCE, it must have been a challenge for Elizabeth, so long childless and now suddenly, wondrously, filled with new life.
And here comes Mary, herself mysteriously, wondrously with child. The unborn one inside Elizabeth begins to do somersaults: 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 leaped in her womb.
And now another life stirs within her, more familiar than the one in her womb. The Holy Spirit of God fills her and she gives full voice to her praise: 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 leaped for joy. "
If Mary came seeking confirmation of the angel’s message, God delivered that in abundance. And if Elizabeth had any doubts about God’s purposes in her own unlikely pregnancy, these also were laid to rest. Now she knew for certain that the child she was carrying had a holy destiny. With great humility and gratitude, she praised the Holy One and confirmed that the child in Mary’s womb is her Lord. What a moment. No wonder this encounter is among the most frequently painted of Biblical scenes.
Yesterday I asked you to consider what new life might be stirring inside you, what new purposes, plans, projects, passions. If we want these to grow and develop, we have to nurture them along, not ignore them until the time comes for them to be born. We have to feed them, and make room for them to kick, even leap and do backflips.
I wish I knew how to make that room. Partly, is insisting on time for quiet and inactivity, as challenging as that can be in our 24/7 world. It means taking walks, and tea breaks, writing in a journal, and yes, committing to quiet prayer time each day, a spiritual discipline that so often eludes me. God may be speaking volumes, but if we never check in, how are we going to know? It's pre-natal care for the spirit.
And when we do feel the kicks? When we do feel ourselves filled with the Holy Spirit? Give voice with a loud cry and proclaim your blessedness!
12-17-18 - Haste
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
In Sunday Gospel Land, we’re going backward. Having spent two weeks with John the Baptist (when Jesus was already a grown man), we zip back to both men’s pre-natal life. Back we go to Galilee, or rather to Judea, to where young Mary has gone “with haste” to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Mary, having received the rather alarming news of her impending pregnancy by the power of the Holy Spirit, is told by that frightening angel that Elizabeth, “who is in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.”
One piece of news or the other sent Mary quickly away from her native Nazareth:
Whatever may be stirring, ask God to make it clear. That prayer doesn’t always get answered quickly, but we should not tire of asking it. And we should be ready to move with haste when we have a chance to find out just what it is God is up to now. For nothing will be impossible with God.
In Sunday Gospel Land, we’re going backward. Having spent two weeks with John the Baptist (when Jesus was already a grown man), we zip back to both men’s pre-natal life. Back we go to Galilee, or rather to Judea, to where young Mary has gone “with haste” to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Mary, having received the rather alarming news of her impending pregnancy by the power of the Holy Spirit, is told by that frightening angel that Elizabeth, “who is in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.”
One piece of news or the other sent Mary quickly away from her native Nazareth:
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.
What induced her haste? Was she anxious to verify the angel’s claims, to be reassured that she was not crazy, had not hallucinated the whole stupefying encounter? Was she eager to get away from prying eyes and nagging tongues, and gossip that could have exposed her to more than disgrace – were she found to have committed adultery while betrothed, she could have faced a penalty of death. Luke doesn’t tell us why she went “with haste,” but the phrase stands out in this season when we are invited to embrace waiting and watching. Mary didn’t wait – she just went. Perhaps guided by the Holy Spirit, perhaps by her own raging emotions, she high-tailed to the hill country.
There is a place and time for waiting in the life of faith. “Those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength,” we read in Isaiah 40. “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage,” says Psalm 27. Certainly there is a lot of waiting during a pregnancy. Yet there is also a time and a place for action, for moving quickly to right a wrong, or to stand with someone under attack, or to discern what exactly God is doing when you feel the Spirit’s nudge.
Discernment is a tricky business. Often we need to wait for things to unfold in God’s time. But when we do get a word or prompt, even a hint of where God is inviting us to serve, we can seek confirmation right away.
What stirrings of the Spirit are animating you these days? What activity of God are you drawn to participate in? What person or people do you feel called to encourage and support?
What induced her haste? Was she anxious to verify the angel’s claims, to be reassured that she was not crazy, had not hallucinated the whole stupefying encounter? Was she eager to get away from prying eyes and nagging tongues, and gossip that could have exposed her to more than disgrace – were she found to have committed adultery while betrothed, she could have faced a penalty of death. Luke doesn’t tell us why she went “with haste,” but the phrase stands out in this season when we are invited to embrace waiting and watching. Mary didn’t wait – she just went. Perhaps guided by the Holy Spirit, perhaps by her own raging emotions, she high-tailed to the hill country.
There is a place and time for waiting in the life of faith. “Those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength,” we read in Isaiah 40. “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage,” says Psalm 27. Certainly there is a lot of waiting during a pregnancy. Yet there is also a time and a place for action, for moving quickly to right a wrong, or to stand with someone under attack, or to discern what exactly God is doing when you feel the Spirit’s nudge.
Discernment is a tricky business. Often we need to wait for things to unfold in God’s time. But when we do get a word or prompt, even a hint of where God is inviting us to serve, we can seek confirmation right away.
What stirrings of the Spirit are animating you these days? What activity of God are you drawn to participate in? What person or people do you feel called to encourage and support?
What injustice do you wish you could set right? Do you feel called into a new job or vocation?
To pick up a new friend or pastime?
Whatever may be stirring, ask God to make it clear. That prayer doesn’t always get answered quickly, but we should not tire of asking it. And we should be ready to move with haste when we have a chance to find out just what it is God is up to now. For nothing will be impossible with God.
12-14-18 - John
Today we turn to hear from one of those whom God chose to reveal the mystery of Incarnation, John the Baptist – this is how Sunday's gospel might come sound if he burst into our churches. You can listen to this reflection here.
I’m back…. What’s with the mood lighting? Soft music? You think that’s what Advent is all about? Think again, folks. You think it’s a nice little quiet time? Preparing for the one who’s coming? This is Jesus we’re talking about – he isn’t all about gentle. He’s about truth. He’s about real. He’s about fire. “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. He’s gonna clear his threshing floor and gather up the wheat –but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
You got it? You don’t get ready for a forest fire with a little fire extinguisher. “Prepare ye the way of the Lord” – that means, look out, folks. That means, repent!
You think you’re exempt because you “try to be a good person?” Give me a break! You think you’re in the clear because you’re in church? Because you haven’t stolen, killed, cheated on your spouse? You know what nice, gentle Jesus says about that? You even think hateful thoughts about someone, you’re guilty of murder. That’s sin – what we do is the least of it; it’s what we think that gets us into trouble.
And what we don’t do. How we don’t protect the poor and the powerless. How we don’t speak up for the voiceless. Are there voiceless ones in the richest country on earth – where some children die because they have no medical coverage? You don’t think that can be laid at your feet?
Do you or do you not live in a nice house in a safe neighborhood? How many TV sets do you own? How many times a week do you eat out? Do you or do you not know that there are places in this world where people get maybe a bowl of rice or grain a day and sleep on the ground?
How much of your wealth are you sharing? How much trash do you generate? How much energy do you consume with all your cars and overheated shopping malls and electronic gadgets? How are you paying for all this over-consumption – with blood and debt?
Do you or do you not benefit from privileges just because you may be white or wealthy? Where you have access to resources and positions because someone else is kept away? But you can’t do anything about that, can you? You can’t do anything about war and refugees and famines, can you?
You don’t think you have much to repent of? Think again – you are a part of your people, and the guilt of your people is your guilt. I’m here to call you to repentance, to clean up your acts. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
You have a choice – you can participate in unjust structures – or you stand against injustice. You can wring your hands, or you can really start sharing your wealth. You can keep eating too much and spending too much, or strip down your lifestyle to what you need and stop feeding the consumer culture.
Wait a minute – are you actually supposed to do something after you say you’re sorry? Is that what repentance means? You’re actually supposed to approach things a different way? Not just come in here and say sorry for the same things over and over, but actually ask God to help change your heart?
Maybe you're thinking, "This is not what I come to church for. I’m glad he’s not the Messiah.” Well, you know what – I’m glad too. Because what God’s gonna ask of him… well, that’s a baptism way harsher than mine.
But I’ve got a part to play in your life, friend. I’m here to remind you that repentance is a year-round thing, an everyday, every week thing. I stand here to remind you that everything is not hunky-dory in your house – that there is a lot of clutter standing between you and your God.
Do you want more of God in your life? Do you want Jesus to hang out in your heart? Then make some room for Him! Let me ask you something – I haven’t lived in a house since I was a kid, so I don’t know about this stuff. But when you have important guests coming over, you clean, right? All the bathrooms, the kitchen; you vacuum, put stuff away? Make up the beds in the guest room, put out the nice towels.
So clean up your houses, people! Jesus is coming. The only trick is – you don’t know when. So you need to keep your house cleaned all the time. That’s a drag, isn’t it? We kind of forget and slip back into our clutter stuff, because he hasn’t sent us an e-mail with the day or the time.
But He sent me. He sent me to be your wake-up call. So here I am, people – WAKE UP! THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS AT HAND. GET YOURSELVES CLEAN! TURN AWAY FROM YOUR COMPLACENCY!
A priest comes out and says: Hey – give us a chance. Jesus is coming with fire, but he’s also full of love. Doesn’t it say somewhere that God “desires not the death of a sinner, but that they turn from their wickedness and live?”
John: Look, I’m an action guy, you know? I just want you to make it real, that’s all. Real, from the heart. Real repentance, not just talk. That’s what God wants.… I guess I’ll be on my way. See you next December, I guess – next time you guys take me out and dust me off.
Priest: We won’t forget about you. We’ll think about you every time we say our confession, okay? And we’ll remember we need to act, not just talk about it.
John: That’s okay, don’t remember me… keep your focus on Jesus. Start thinking like him. He’s the message, anyway. He’s the guy. And the guy is coming – get ready!
I’m back…. What’s with the mood lighting? Soft music? You think that’s what Advent is all about? Think again, folks. You think it’s a nice little quiet time? Preparing for the one who’s coming? This is Jesus we’re talking about – he isn’t all about gentle. He’s about truth. He’s about real. He’s about fire. “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. He’s gonna clear his threshing floor and gather up the wheat –but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
You got it? You don’t get ready for a forest fire with a little fire extinguisher. “Prepare ye the way of the Lord” – that means, look out, folks. That means, repent!
You think you’re exempt because you “try to be a good person?” Give me a break! You think you’re in the clear because you’re in church? Because you haven’t stolen, killed, cheated on your spouse? You know what nice, gentle Jesus says about that? You even think hateful thoughts about someone, you’re guilty of murder. That’s sin – what we do is the least of it; it’s what we think that gets us into trouble.
And what we don’t do. How we don’t protect the poor and the powerless. How we don’t speak up for the voiceless. Are there voiceless ones in the richest country on earth – where some children die because they have no medical coverage? You don’t think that can be laid at your feet?
Do you or do you not live in a nice house in a safe neighborhood? How many TV sets do you own? How many times a week do you eat out? Do you or do you not know that there are places in this world where people get maybe a bowl of rice or grain a day and sleep on the ground?
How much of your wealth are you sharing? How much trash do you generate? How much energy do you consume with all your cars and overheated shopping malls and electronic gadgets? How are you paying for all this over-consumption – with blood and debt?
Do you or do you not benefit from privileges just because you may be white or wealthy? Where you have access to resources and positions because someone else is kept away? But you can’t do anything about that, can you? You can’t do anything about war and refugees and famines, can you?
You don’t think you have much to repent of? Think again – you are a part of your people, and the guilt of your people is your guilt. I’m here to call you to repentance, to clean up your acts. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
You have a choice – you can participate in unjust structures – or you stand against injustice. You can wring your hands, or you can really start sharing your wealth. You can keep eating too much and spending too much, or strip down your lifestyle to what you need and stop feeding the consumer culture.
Wait a minute – are you actually supposed to do something after you say you’re sorry? Is that what repentance means? You’re actually supposed to approach things a different way? Not just come in here and say sorry for the same things over and over, but actually ask God to help change your heart?
Maybe you're thinking, "This is not what I come to church for. I’m glad he’s not the Messiah.” Well, you know what – I’m glad too. Because what God’s gonna ask of him… well, that’s a baptism way harsher than mine.
But I’ve got a part to play in your life, friend. I’m here to remind you that repentance is a year-round thing, an everyday, every week thing. I stand here to remind you that everything is not hunky-dory in your house – that there is a lot of clutter standing between you and your God.
Do you want more of God in your life? Do you want Jesus to hang out in your heart? Then make some room for Him! Let me ask you something – I haven’t lived in a house since I was a kid, so I don’t know about this stuff. But when you have important guests coming over, you clean, right? All the bathrooms, the kitchen; you vacuum, put stuff away? Make up the beds in the guest room, put out the nice towels.
So clean up your houses, people! Jesus is coming. The only trick is – you don’t know when. So you need to keep your house cleaned all the time. That’s a drag, isn’t it? We kind of forget and slip back into our clutter stuff, because he hasn’t sent us an e-mail with the day or the time.
But He sent me. He sent me to be your wake-up call. So here I am, people – WAKE UP! THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS AT HAND. GET YOURSELVES CLEAN! TURN AWAY FROM YOUR COMPLACENCY!
A priest comes out and says: Hey – give us a chance. Jesus is coming with fire, but he’s also full of love. Doesn’t it say somewhere that God “desires not the death of a sinner, but that they turn from their wickedness and live?”
John: Look, I’m an action guy, you know? I just want you to make it real, that’s all. Real, from the heart. Real repentance, not just talk. That’s what God wants.… I guess I’ll be on my way. See you next December, I guess – next time you guys take me out and dust me off.
Priest: We won’t forget about you. We’ll think about you every time we say our confession, okay? And we’ll remember we need to act, not just talk about it.
John: That’s okay, don’t remember me… keep your focus on Jesus. Start thinking like him. He’s the message, anyway. He’s the guy. And the guy is coming – get ready!
12-13-18 - Fire
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire… Isn’t this the season for nice cozy fires? Not when we let John the Baptist in. The fire he’s talking about, which he says Jesus will bring, is another force altogether, which will do more than warm us:
“He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing-fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.
What kind of good news is this – the ax, the winnowing fork, the unquenchable fire? I only like fire when contained in a candle or crackling merrily in a fireplace. And unquenchable fire? Isn’t that an image of eternal damnation?
Not only – God snared Moses with a bush that was on fire but not consumed. And fire is one of our symbols for the power of the Holy Spirit. Our life in Christ begins with water, the transforming water of baptism by which we are made one with Christ, and members of God’s family. Yet God’s life is released in us as we are baptized with the fire of the Holy Spirit. That’s where we get the power by which God works transformation through us. We need water and fire.
Once, while on retreat, I prayed fervently that the Spirit “set my heart on fire with love for you.” A good and holy prayer, right? But God shot right back: “Do you know what you’re asking? My fire consumes everything that is not of me.”
The fire of God is a purifying flame, and if we let it, it will indeed purify us. I’ve heard a story that depicts this process beautifully. I have no idea how accurate it is, but it’s a lovely image of how gold was purified in olden times. The smelter would take the gold and put it into a pot and put a fire under it. As the gold melted, the impurities in it would rise to the surface, all that is known as “dross,” everything that’s not gold, that’s gotten mixed in; all of that would rise to the surface, and the refiner would skim it off.
And then he’d make the fire hotter, and more impurities would rise to the surface, and he’d skim them off. And then he’d make the fire hotter and more elements that were not pure gold would rise, and he’d skim them off. And then he’d make the fire hotter. Until there were no impurities left. Until, when the refiner looked into the pot, he saw his own image perfectly reflected back to him in the gold.
In this metaphor, we are the gold, of course. And you know the Refiner. But there’s something else: the pot which contains us is the Love of God, the One who was called Love. This pot has been fired in the furnace and will not crack. This Love bears the fire with us. This Love contains us as we are purified, and made ready to spend eternity with him.
If we want a deeper experience of God’s love and power, we need to ask for a deeper filling of the fire of God, the Holy Spirit. There may be parts of our lives we don’t want to see scorched - can we offer God access anyway? Can we let him burn away the parts of us that are inauthentic, not true to who God made us to be? Can we let in the purifying flame? Can we become the fire of God, burning bushes that cause the world to turn aside to look?
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire… Isn’t this the season for nice cozy fires? Not when we let John the Baptist in. The fire he’s talking about, which he says Jesus will bring, is another force altogether, which will do more than warm us:
“He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing-fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.
What kind of good news is this – the ax, the winnowing fork, the unquenchable fire? I only like fire when contained in a candle or crackling merrily in a fireplace. And unquenchable fire? Isn’t that an image of eternal damnation?
Not only – God snared Moses with a bush that was on fire but not consumed. And fire is one of our symbols for the power of the Holy Spirit. Our life in Christ begins with water, the transforming water of baptism by which we are made one with Christ, and members of God’s family. Yet God’s life is released in us as we are baptized with the fire of the Holy Spirit. That’s where we get the power by which God works transformation through us. We need water and fire.
Once, while on retreat, I prayed fervently that the Spirit “set my heart on fire with love for you.” A good and holy prayer, right? But God shot right back: “Do you know what you’re asking? My fire consumes everything that is not of me.”
The fire of God is a purifying flame, and if we let it, it will indeed purify us. I’ve heard a story that depicts this process beautifully. I have no idea how accurate it is, but it’s a lovely image of how gold was purified in olden times. The smelter would take the gold and put it into a pot and put a fire under it. As the gold melted, the impurities in it would rise to the surface, all that is known as “dross,” everything that’s not gold, that’s gotten mixed in; all of that would rise to the surface, and the refiner would skim it off.
And then he’d make the fire hotter, and more impurities would rise to the surface, and he’d skim them off. And then he’d make the fire hotter and more elements that were not pure gold would rise, and he’d skim them off. And then he’d make the fire hotter. Until there were no impurities left. Until, when the refiner looked into the pot, he saw his own image perfectly reflected back to him in the gold.
In this metaphor, we are the gold, of course. And you know the Refiner. But there’s something else: the pot which contains us is the Love of God, the One who was called Love. This pot has been fired in the furnace and will not crack. This Love bears the fire with us. This Love contains us as we are purified, and made ready to spend eternity with him.
If we want a deeper experience of God’s love and power, we need to ask for a deeper filling of the fire of God, the Holy Spirit. There may be parts of our lives we don’t want to see scorched - can we offer God access anyway? Can we let him burn away the parts of us that are inauthentic, not true to who God made us to be? Can we let in the purifying flame? Can we become the fire of God, burning bushes that cause the world to turn aside to look?
12-12-18 - Power
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
It seems that every day brings fresh outrage, reports of words or actions by people in authority that demean others or diminish their civil rights. From corruption and disdain in the highest offices of our land, to policemen shooting unarmed people, hyper-wealthy financiers and huge corporations using loopholes to avoid paying their share of taxes, it’s hard to trust anyone with power.
And, once again, John the Baptist is up to the minute:
Even tax-collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, ‘Teacher, what should we do?’ He said to them, ‘Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.’ Soldiers also asked him, ‘And we, what should we do?’ He said to them, ‘Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.’
How are we to respond as people of faith called to humility and love? Much of what is being said and done publicly is so contrary to what Jesus proclaimed and lived, it seems to demand a response from any ne with a Christian conscience. We need to stand against destructive lies and demagoguery – Jesus did a lot of that. And yet he also said we are to love those who would persecute us. How?
What John did was to call people back to their true selves and remind them of their charge as public servants. He told them to be satisfied with the compensation they were receiving, not to crave more. Now, he was speaking to people who came to him; they were open to counsel on how to live more righteously. A lot of the people causing my blood pressure to rise lately don’t think they need to be taught anything about humility or how to be a bearer of Christ.
The most powerful thing we can do, really, is to pray for those who speak and act destruction. Pray for the most abusive and outrageous. That is exactly who Jesus told us to pray for. And for terrorists. And for destroyers of wildlife. And for those who game the system. The whole lot.
Every time we hear about a new outrage, how about we stop and pray for the perpetrator? Pray for God to bless them and recall them to their true selves. Imagine what change could come about if we wielded the only weapon we’re actually given: the spiritual power in the name of Jesus to transform even the coldest heart. I’m going to start. You with me? We have a lot of praying to do!
It seems that every day brings fresh outrage, reports of words or actions by people in authority that demean others or diminish their civil rights. From corruption and disdain in the highest offices of our land, to policemen shooting unarmed people, hyper-wealthy financiers and huge corporations using loopholes to avoid paying their share of taxes, it’s hard to trust anyone with power.
And, once again, John the Baptist is up to the minute:
Even tax-collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, ‘Teacher, what should we do?’ He said to them, ‘Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.’ Soldiers also asked him, ‘And we, what should we do?’ He said to them, ‘Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.’
How are we to respond as people of faith called to humility and love? Much of what is being said and done publicly is so contrary to what Jesus proclaimed and lived, it seems to demand a response from any ne with a Christian conscience. We need to stand against destructive lies and demagoguery – Jesus did a lot of that. And yet he also said we are to love those who would persecute us. How?
What John did was to call people back to their true selves and remind them of their charge as public servants. He told them to be satisfied with the compensation they were receiving, not to crave more. Now, he was speaking to people who came to him; they were open to counsel on how to live more righteously. A lot of the people causing my blood pressure to rise lately don’t think they need to be taught anything about humility or how to be a bearer of Christ.
The most powerful thing we can do, really, is to pray for those who speak and act destruction. Pray for the most abusive and outrageous. That is exactly who Jesus told us to pray for. And for terrorists. And for destroyers of wildlife. And for those who game the system. The whole lot.
Every time we hear about a new outrage, how about we stop and pray for the perpetrator? Pray for God to bless them and recall them to their true selves. Imagine what change could come about if we wielded the only weapon we’re actually given: the spiritual power in the name of Jesus to transform even the coldest heart. I’m going to start. You with me? We have a lot of praying to do!
12-11-18 - Greed
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
How many coats is too many? Sweaters? Shoes? Cans of tuna? Does it count if the coats are old? Where is the line between thrift and greed? I fear John the Baptist would say we crossed it a long time ago.
In response to his harsh words about the judgment to come upon those who do not “bear fruit worthy of repentance,” John’s listeners were perplexed – and anxious:
And the crowds asked him, ‘What then should we do?’ In reply he said to them, ‘Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.’
I like stuff. I like accumulating it, and I must like storing it and moving it, because much of my stuff has been with me awhile. (I just went to a wedding wearing an outfit I’ve had since my twenties, so keeping stuff does foster frugality…) Yet I’m also burdened by owning so much, and moved by the need of so many in the world. I suspect I’m not the only person who squirms in that cognitive dissonance.
Greed is not hard to define. It is keeping more than you need, and not sharing it with people who do need it. Almost everyone I know is complicit in a system that fosters greed, even encourages it – after all, buying things is our duty to keep the economy going, right? Except that we could as well keep the economy going by buying things for other people, people who are not related to us, who do not have the resources we have.
Part of my problem, when I am reminded of the hold greed has on me, is that I go to the “all or nothing” place. I’m not ready to downsize to a 300-square-foot tiny house and a 20-item wardrobe and give everything else away, so I guess I just stay greedy until I’m ready to change, right?
Maybe not. Maybe there is an incremental approach. Maybe we develop strategies to slow down our rate of accumulation and accelerate our giving to others – and by others, I mean people in genuine need, not gift-giving to our loved ones.
What if we commit to buying one item for a homeless family for every two gifts we buy this Christmas season? What if we make an equivalent donation each time we buy something for ourselves that we don't really need? Even beginning to evaluate our purchases would go a long way toward making us more aware of how much we have relative to so many others. And linking our accumulation to giving would help us release a lot more.
Do I want to take all the joy out of prosperity? No. I just think it's possible that John – and Jesus, and St. Francis, and thousands of other saints over millennia – had a point. If our joy is located in our prosperity, we’re not ready to dwell in the Life of God. And when our joy is located in the Life of God… we're apt to redefine prosperity.
How many coats is too many? Sweaters? Shoes? Cans of tuna? Does it count if the coats are old? Where is the line between thrift and greed? I fear John the Baptist would say we crossed it a long time ago.
In response to his harsh words about the judgment to come upon those who do not “bear fruit worthy of repentance,” John’s listeners were perplexed – and anxious:
And the crowds asked him, ‘What then should we do?’ In reply he said to them, ‘Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.’
I like stuff. I like accumulating it, and I must like storing it and moving it, because much of my stuff has been with me awhile. (I just went to a wedding wearing an outfit I’ve had since my twenties, so keeping stuff does foster frugality…) Yet I’m also burdened by owning so much, and moved by the need of so many in the world. I suspect I’m not the only person who squirms in that cognitive dissonance.
Greed is not hard to define. It is keeping more than you need, and not sharing it with people who do need it. Almost everyone I know is complicit in a system that fosters greed, even encourages it – after all, buying things is our duty to keep the economy going, right? Except that we could as well keep the economy going by buying things for other people, people who are not related to us, who do not have the resources we have.
Part of my problem, when I am reminded of the hold greed has on me, is that I go to the “all or nothing” place. I’m not ready to downsize to a 300-square-foot tiny house and a 20-item wardrobe and give everything else away, so I guess I just stay greedy until I’m ready to change, right?
Maybe not. Maybe there is an incremental approach. Maybe we develop strategies to slow down our rate of accumulation and accelerate our giving to others – and by others, I mean people in genuine need, not gift-giving to our loved ones.
What if we commit to buying one item for a homeless family for every two gifts we buy this Christmas season? What if we make an equivalent donation each time we buy something for ourselves that we don't really need? Even beginning to evaluate our purchases would go a long way toward making us more aware of how much we have relative to so many others. And linking our accumulation to giving would help us release a lot more.
Do I want to take all the joy out of prosperity? No. I just think it's possible that John – and Jesus, and St. Francis, and thousands of other saints over millennia – had a point. If our joy is located in our prosperity, we’re not ready to dwell in the Life of God. And when our joy is located in the Life of God… we're apt to redefine prosperity.
12-10-18 - Holy Ranting
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
Anyone with a Facebook account is familiar with the rant – an impassioned articulation of support or denunciation, fueled by indignation, righteous or otherwise, sometimes punctuated by biting wit. A good rant can leave you feeling somewhat singed, or slightly sick.
John the Baptist, like many a prophet in Israel’s tradition, was a master of the good rant. He let the crowds who’d come out to see him know just what he thought of their sight-seeing curiosity and trendy repentance.
John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
Wow. In a few short words, he’s called them a nest of poisonous snakes and warned them of wrath, fire and axes. He’s told them their history as “God’s chosen people” will not protect them from God’s righteous judgment. Is this the kind of preaching that fills churches?
It didn’t seem to hurt John’s numbers… nor did he care. Like the prophets of old, he had a message from God to deliver, and he delivered it without concern for the outcome. He was there to tell them what they needed to hear, and to offer them a ritual that made visible the internal repentance to which he called them. What people did with that message was between them and God.
The prophets we meet in the Hebrew Bible didn’t mince words either. Their prophecies veered between doom and promise, and were often terrifying. A prophet doesn’t have to be frightening, but the prophet does have to honestly say what she or he believes God wants the people to hear. That’s the tricky part – to speak for God, and not just out of your own sense of right or wrong - or grievance.
John’s essential message, if we take out the scary bits, was that people were to bear the fruit of repentance, not just say the words. If they were genuinely sorry for the way they had been living, conducting business and relationships, there should be a visible effect in changed lives and behaviors.
We are not to stop calling out injustice and untruth when we see it. We are to work for equity and access to resources and security for all people, and if necessary to speak against those who would deny those basic rights. Sometimes that speaking out will include ranting. More often it will entail a steady, relentless process of forming relationships in which communication can happen in humility and honesty.
Jesus could get up a good rant too – but usually he brought transformation by drawing people into a relationship of love. A good prophet speaks the truth; a good leader fosters relationships to bring about outcomes that reflect that truth. I am called to that ministry, transformation in Christ’s love.
Anyone with a Facebook account is familiar with the rant – an impassioned articulation of support or denunciation, fueled by indignation, righteous or otherwise, sometimes punctuated by biting wit. A good rant can leave you feeling somewhat singed, or slightly sick.
John the Baptist, like many a prophet in Israel’s tradition, was a master of the good rant. He let the crowds who’d come out to see him know just what he thought of their sight-seeing curiosity and trendy repentance.
John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."
Wow. In a few short words, he’s called them a nest of poisonous snakes and warned them of wrath, fire and axes. He’s told them their history as “God’s chosen people” will not protect them from God’s righteous judgment. Is this the kind of preaching that fills churches?
It didn’t seem to hurt John’s numbers… nor did he care. Like the prophets of old, he had a message from God to deliver, and he delivered it without concern for the outcome. He was there to tell them what they needed to hear, and to offer them a ritual that made visible the internal repentance to which he called them. What people did with that message was between them and God.
The prophets we meet in the Hebrew Bible didn’t mince words either. Their prophecies veered between doom and promise, and were often terrifying. A prophet doesn’t have to be frightening, but the prophet does have to honestly say what she or he believes God wants the people to hear. That’s the tricky part – to speak for God, and not just out of your own sense of right or wrong - or grievance.
John’s essential message, if we take out the scary bits, was that people were to bear the fruit of repentance, not just say the words. If they were genuinely sorry for the way they had been living, conducting business and relationships, there should be a visible effect in changed lives and behaviors.
We are not to stop calling out injustice and untruth when we see it. We are to work for equity and access to resources and security for all people, and if necessary to speak against those who would deny those basic rights. Sometimes that speaking out will include ranting. More often it will entail a steady, relentless process of forming relationships in which communication can happen in humility and honesty.
Jesus could get up a good rant too – but usually he brought transformation by drawing people into a relationship of love. A good prophet speaks the truth; a good leader fosters relationships to bring about outcomes that reflect that truth. I am called to that ministry, transformation in Christ’s love.
12-7-18 - Another Song of Zechariah
Today we'll turn from Sunday's gospel to hear from one of those whom God chose to reveal the mystery of Incarnation, Zechariah, the aged father of John the Baptist.
You can listen to this reflection here.
I didn’t hear much after “Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son.” She would what? We would have what? How? Why now? Why not… The questions filled me, knocking each other out of the way, jostling for attention. I will have a son? Elizabeth will bear a son? I am to have a small child in the house, to teach and raise? I am to have a namesake?
Ah no, I remember that much from what followed. He is to be called John. The angel, or whatever he was, said a lot of other things about this child yet to be, almost like someone already knew him quite well. An ascetic, he would be. A leader. A prophet. A holy man.
I only asked one thing – you wouldn’t have thought it so bad. “How will I know? I’m old, and Elizabeth is long past childbearing, not that that we were ever able to conceive.”
How I can I now conceive the inconceivable?
“I said so,” said Gabriel, like that should be enough. “God sent me. You think an angel is going to show up in front of you and tell you something false, imaginary?” And for my temerity in asking a logical question, he made me mute. He took my speech. He took my language, my precious words, my ability to express, to convince, to curse, to bless.
Or did he give me something? The time, the space, the silence, to digest the crazy promise, the mission my son, my child, my already-beloved will have?
You can listen to this reflection here.
I didn’t hear much after “Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son.” She would what? We would have what? How? Why now? Why not… The questions filled me, knocking each other out of the way, jostling for attention. I will have a son? Elizabeth will bear a son? I am to have a small child in the house, to teach and raise? I am to have a namesake?
Ah no, I remember that much from what followed. He is to be called John. The angel, or whatever he was, said a lot of other things about this child yet to be, almost like someone already knew him quite well. An ascetic, he would be. A leader. A prophet. A holy man.
I only asked one thing – you wouldn’t have thought it so bad. “How will I know? I’m old, and Elizabeth is long past childbearing, not that that we were ever able to conceive.”
How I can I now conceive the inconceivable?
“I said so,” said Gabriel, like that should be enough. “God sent me. You think an angel is going to show up in front of you and tell you something false, imaginary?” And for my temerity in asking a logical question, he made me mute. He took my speech. He took my language, my precious words, my ability to express, to convince, to curse, to bless.
Or did he give me something? The time, the space, the silence, to digest the crazy promise, the mission my son, my child, my already-beloved will have?
Time and space to contemplate being the father of one who will speak for God, a teacher, a path-maker, going before the coming savior, making hearts ready to receive that new life.
Time and space to try to grasp the promise of salvation, of a savior – for I know my son is to be connected to one who will deliver humanity, all the world, even the cosmos…
Time and space to absorb mercy, mercy I have never felt I needed, as a good and upright man from a priestly line.
Mercy not only for me, but for all who sit in shadows and hopelessness.
Time and space to absorb mercy, mercy I have never felt I needed, as a good and upright man from a priestly line.
Mercy not only for me, but for all who sit in shadows and hopelessness.
12-6-18 - The Level Road
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
Who knew that God was in the road business? Flattening, milling, paving, making a way so that he can ride in to the world? That’s the vision that Isaiah sketched, cited by John as he urged people to prepare for God’s advent in Christ:
"Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth…"
Another prophet, Baruch, also spoke about leveling the road, not for so much for God’s travel as for that of the people of God returning home from exile:
"For God has ordered that every high mountain and the everlasting hills be made low
and the valleys filled up, to make level ground, so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God."
We can find this leveling principle in much of Scripture – it shows up in the songs of Hannah and Zechariah and Mary, suggesting an economic leveling as the poor are raised up and the “mighty cast down from their thrones.” It’s there in teachings to lift up our praises even in the face of woes. And of course we see it worked out in Jesus’ life, as he met rich and poor, powerful and lowly with equal love and challenge.
What does this metaphor do for us? After all, there is much to be said for highs and lows, whether we are hiking in the mountains or navigating the complex terrain of a relationship. Who wants everything level?
Well, just as there is a benefit to having level roads, even in hilly terrain, so we, as ones led by the Spirit, are invited to move through the inevitable bumps, even punishing hills of our lives from a level place, grounded in the life of Christ within us. As a wise friend once reminded me, “God doesn’t promise to change our circumstances. God promises to change us within them.” God gives us the grace to deal with our circumstances, the highs and the lows.
Grace is the level road which invites many people to travel on it, returning from the various exiles in which we find ourselves to the embrace of the One who eagerly waits for us to come home.
And grace is the level road on which that One comes to us, gaining access to our hearts and minds, our faith and hope and dreams, our wounds and disappointments.
The level road is for us and for God. It is where we can meet God and walk the highlands and lowlands together.
Who knew that God was in the road business? Flattening, milling, paving, making a way so that he can ride in to the world? That’s the vision that Isaiah sketched, cited by John as he urged people to prepare for God’s advent in Christ:
"Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth…"
Another prophet, Baruch, also spoke about leveling the road, not for so much for God’s travel as for that of the people of God returning home from exile:
"For God has ordered that every high mountain and the everlasting hills be made low
and the valleys filled up, to make level ground, so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God."
We can find this leveling principle in much of Scripture – it shows up in the songs of Hannah and Zechariah and Mary, suggesting an economic leveling as the poor are raised up and the “mighty cast down from their thrones.” It’s there in teachings to lift up our praises even in the face of woes. And of course we see it worked out in Jesus’ life, as he met rich and poor, powerful and lowly with equal love and challenge.
What does this metaphor do for us? After all, there is much to be said for highs and lows, whether we are hiking in the mountains or navigating the complex terrain of a relationship. Who wants everything level?
Well, just as there is a benefit to having level roads, even in hilly terrain, so we, as ones led by the Spirit, are invited to move through the inevitable bumps, even punishing hills of our lives from a level place, grounded in the life of Christ within us. As a wise friend once reminded me, “God doesn’t promise to change our circumstances. God promises to change us within them.” God gives us the grace to deal with our circumstances, the highs and the lows.
Grace is the level road which invites many people to travel on it, returning from the various exiles in which we find ourselves to the embrace of the One who eagerly waits for us to come home.
And grace is the level road on which that One comes to us, gaining access to our hearts and minds, our faith and hope and dreams, our wounds and disappointments.
The level road is for us and for God. It is where we can meet God and walk the highlands and lowlands together.
12-5-18 - Cleansing Waters
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
We often refer to John as “the Baptist,” perhaps causing some to wonder why he's not "John the Lutheran." Some translations call him “John the Baptizer.” Luke identified him not by vocation, but by his parentage, “son of Zechariah.”
...the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.
The “baptism” John offered bore little relation to the rite of Christian initiation we know as baptism in the church. He was not baptizing people into the identity or family of Christ – he was offering a ritual cleansing to symbolize the spiritual cleansing of repentance and forgiveness. And why would anyone need a “baptism of repentance?” To clear the way in their hearts for the message Jesus would bring and the reconciliation to God he would make possible.
John was the advance man. His mission was articulated even before his conception, when his father received a visit from the Angel Gabriel telling him that he and his aged wife Elizabeth, long childless, were to have a son:
The angel said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.’
To make ready a people prepared for the Lord – that is the mission for which John lived and died. He approached it by calling people to repent, for personal sins and shortcomings as well as complicity in societal sin and injustice.
I have been asked why we confess sins in church – doesn’t that convey a message of shame and “not-good-enough-ness?” I would not drop that from the liturgy for the same reason that John was in the repentance business: If we want to welcome God, we need to be real about ourselves. We need to make room in the clutter of our hearts and lives. In fact, I prefer to put the confession closer to the beginning of the worship, so that we can clear the decks and make space for the Spirit before we engage the Word and share the Meal.
We are to share John’s mission to "make ready a people prepared for the Lord." We don’t need to point out to people their sins or sinfulness; we need only be clear and humble about our own, in a graceful way, speaking freely of our need for forgiveness and God’s abundant mercy. That way we invite people to bring their whole selves into an encounter with God, and let them know that everything can be transformed, everything made whole.
We often refer to John as “the Baptist,” perhaps causing some to wonder why he's not "John the Lutheran." Some translations call him “John the Baptizer.” Luke identified him not by vocation, but by his parentage, “son of Zechariah.”
...the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.
The “baptism” John offered bore little relation to the rite of Christian initiation we know as baptism in the church. He was not baptizing people into the identity or family of Christ – he was offering a ritual cleansing to symbolize the spiritual cleansing of repentance and forgiveness. And why would anyone need a “baptism of repentance?” To clear the way in their hearts for the message Jesus would bring and the reconciliation to God he would make possible.
John was the advance man. His mission was articulated even before his conception, when his father received a visit from the Angel Gabriel telling him that he and his aged wife Elizabeth, long childless, were to have a son:
The angel said to him, ‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.’
To make ready a people prepared for the Lord – that is the mission for which John lived and died. He approached it by calling people to repent, for personal sins and shortcomings as well as complicity in societal sin and injustice.
I have been asked why we confess sins in church – doesn’t that convey a message of shame and “not-good-enough-ness?” I would not drop that from the liturgy for the same reason that John was in the repentance business: If we want to welcome God, we need to be real about ourselves. We need to make room in the clutter of our hearts and lives. In fact, I prefer to put the confession closer to the beginning of the worship, so that we can clear the decks and make space for the Spirit before we engage the Word and share the Meal.
We are to share John’s mission to "make ready a people prepared for the Lord." We don’t need to point out to people their sins or sinfulness; we need only be clear and humble about our own, in a graceful way, speaking freely of our need for forgiveness and God’s abundant mercy. That way we invite people to bring their whole selves into an encounter with God, and let them know that everything can be transformed, everything made whole.
12-4-18 - Incoming!
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
When I was newly ordained, I was part of a monthly diocesan Ordinands Training Program. Once, when we were meeting at diocesan offices, we were surprised by a sign indicating our meeting room which read, “Ordnance Training.” A Freudian misspelling, perhaps? We agreed it was pretty apt.
This comes to mind when I read these words: “…the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.” I think of shouts in battle, “Incoming!,” warning soldiers to get out of the way of enemy bombs and shells. Is this how it felt to John when the Word of God came to him in the wilderness? What God asked of John did prepare people for the coming of Christ – and also set him up for imprisonment and an untimely death in Herod’s dungeon.
In the bible, the wilderness is a place where people often heard the word of God. And so it is for us – eventually, when we leave behind the clutter of our lives and spend time in wilder, less programmed spaces, we become more open to the urging of the Spirit. It can involve quite a wait; the word of God comes on God’s timetable, which can be frustrating for those of us accustomed to making things happen. And sometimes it unfolds in increments instead of all at once. But when the word of God comes to us with a message or a mission, it can be explosive, demanding that we rearrange our lives and priorities, even our relationships.
John had a very big part to play in the unfolding of God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ. God is inviting you and me to participate in that mission as well – and we need to make ourselves available to receiving that word. If you want the word of God to come to you, tell God that in prayer. Say, “I’m open. I’m listening. And I'm willing to have my life rearranged.”
Maybe this Advent we can find some wilderness time, in short bits or for a proper retreat, and see how the Spirit is inviting us to participate in reshaping this world.
When I was newly ordained, I was part of a monthly diocesan Ordinands Training Program. Once, when we were meeting at diocesan offices, we were surprised by a sign indicating our meeting room which read, “Ordnance Training.” A Freudian misspelling, perhaps? We agreed it was pretty apt.
This comes to mind when I read these words: “…the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.” I think of shouts in battle, “Incoming!,” warning soldiers to get out of the way of enemy bombs and shells. Is this how it felt to John when the Word of God came to him in the wilderness? What God asked of John did prepare people for the coming of Christ – and also set him up for imprisonment and an untimely death in Herod’s dungeon.
In the bible, the wilderness is a place where people often heard the word of God. And so it is for us – eventually, when we leave behind the clutter of our lives and spend time in wilder, less programmed spaces, we become more open to the urging of the Spirit. It can involve quite a wait; the word of God comes on God’s timetable, which can be frustrating for those of us accustomed to making things happen. And sometimes it unfolds in increments instead of all at once. But when the word of God comes to us with a message or a mission, it can be explosive, demanding that we rearrange our lives and priorities, even our relationships.
John had a very big part to play in the unfolding of God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ. God is inviting you and me to participate in that mission as well – and we need to make ourselves available to receiving that word. If you want the word of God to come to you, tell God that in prayer. Say, “I’m open. I’m listening. And I'm willing to have my life rearranged.”
Maybe this Advent we can find some wilderness time, in short bits or for a proper retreat, and see how the Spirit is inviting us to participate in reshaping this world.
12-3-18 - Specificity
(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)
I am so happy to be back in the Land of Luke in our Sunday gospel readings. I appreciate Luke’s emphases on healing, justice, the work of the Holy Spirit, highlighting Jesus’ compassion, and friendships with women and people marginalized by disease, ethnicity, poverty, wealth or sin. And maybe it’s the medical training (if the author of this Gospel and Acts is Luke the physician mentioned in the latter work…), but Luke is often very precise in his reportage, telling the story as fully and accurately as possible.
So it is that, before he tells us about John the Baptist appearing in the wilderness, he gives us the who, what, when and where:
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.
Luke gives us the lay of the land, the context – exactly when this story took place, the locations that were germane, the political figures of import, and the spiritual leaders. He even tells us whose son John was, and where he was when this word of God came to him.
This is more than attention to historical detail. Luke reminds us that this great story of God’s intervention in Gods own creation isn't just a mythic tale – it is specific. It happened to real people in real places, facing real challenges and circumstances. Our Good News is infinite and universal – and as specific as a unique person born to a particular family in a particular place and community. Theologians even have a term for this: the scandal of particularity. (Trot that out at your next dinner party...)
The power of the human incarnation of the Son of God is for all people in all times and places. But that incarnate person, Jesus, was rooted in a specific time and place. So are you. So am I. The infinite and universal Love of God has also shown up in your particular person and circumstances, family, networks, preoccupations and prejudices. You first encountered the Gospel in a particular setting and person and community, just as Christ-in-you is the best way that people around you will get to know God.
Where was it that you first encountered the Living God? When? Who was in authority, and who was important in your life? What was happening in the world around you? Take some time to recall the circumstances in which the revelation of God’s love first became real to you.
That’s your story within the Great Story. We can only effectively share the Great Story if we begin with how God showed up for us - and that story is always specific.
I am so happy to be back in the Land of Luke in our Sunday gospel readings. I appreciate Luke’s emphases on healing, justice, the work of the Holy Spirit, highlighting Jesus’ compassion, and friendships with women and people marginalized by disease, ethnicity, poverty, wealth or sin. And maybe it’s the medical training (if the author of this Gospel and Acts is Luke the physician mentioned in the latter work…), but Luke is often very precise in his reportage, telling the story as fully and accurately as possible.
So it is that, before he tells us about John the Baptist appearing in the wilderness, he gives us the who, what, when and where:
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.
Luke gives us the lay of the land, the context – exactly when this story took place, the locations that were germane, the political figures of import, and the spiritual leaders. He even tells us whose son John was, and where he was when this word of God came to him.
This is more than attention to historical detail. Luke reminds us that this great story of God’s intervention in Gods own creation isn't just a mythic tale – it is specific. It happened to real people in real places, facing real challenges and circumstances. Our Good News is infinite and universal – and as specific as a unique person born to a particular family in a particular place and community. Theologians even have a term for this: the scandal of particularity. (Trot that out at your next dinner party...)
The power of the human incarnation of the Son of God is for all people in all times and places. But that incarnate person, Jesus, was rooted in a specific time and place. So are you. So am I. The infinite and universal Love of God has also shown up in your particular person and circumstances, family, networks, preoccupations and prejudices. You first encountered the Gospel in a particular setting and person and community, just as Christ-in-you is the best way that people around you will get to know God.
Where was it that you first encountered the Living God? When? Who was in authority, and who was important in your life? What was happening in the world around you? Take some time to recall the circumstances in which the revelation of God’s love first became real to you.
That’s your story within the Great Story. We can only effectively share the Great Story if we begin with how God showed up for us - and that story is always specific.
11-30-18 - Waiting With Elizabeth
Today we'll turn from Sunday's gospel to hear from one of those whom God chose to reveal the mystery of Incarnation, Elizabeth, the aged mother of John the Baptist. (You can listen to this reflection here. The gospel story is here.)
Now that he’s here, my little John, it’s hard to remember a time when he wasn’t. All those years of yearning, the shame and disgrace at my infertility, the envy I felt toward all the mothers around me who took their children for granted… that all faded like steam from a kettle when Zechariah returned from Jerusalem, mute and full of news he couldn’t tell me, and I became pregnant.
When I asked him what had happened in the temple, he wrote it out for me: “An angel appeared to me and told me that my prayer has been heard. He said you would bear me a son, and we will name him John.” It didn’t occur to me to take this literally! I was sure an angel had appeared to my husband, and that the muteness meant something, but I thought it was some spiritual message for us. It wasn’t until a few months on, as I realized something was going on inside my body, that it dawned on me that this was true!
And then, in my sixth month, Mary came to see me so unexpectedly – I remember that like it was yesterday. They told me my cousin was here, and I came out to the hall – and everything went white for a few seconds. The baby inside me went nuts – it felt like he was trying to do back-flips. “Mary is holding the Son of God in her womb, inside her.” That was as clear as day to me, even before she told me about the angel and everything. I didn’t even think about how strange and impossible that could be, that God would somehow be there, inside a woman’s body, but I was filled with this knowledge. Nothing seemed impossible to me anymore. I knew my child would have an important mission, but her child... he is our salvation.
Feeling filled with the Holy Spirit, I said, very loudly – I’m pretty soft-spoken most of the time – “Blessed are you among women! And blessed is the child you will bear. But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” Because I felt so humbled and so privileged, like I was in the presence of something very sacred, very… holy. I told her how the baby inside me leapt for joy at the sound of her voice – like he knew.
I said, “Blessed is she who believes that what the Lord said to her will actually be accomplished. What faith!” How is it we could believe these strange things, both of us? Why is it Mary could believe what the angel said, and my husband couldn’t? But then, did I believe all those years, when I felt God was withholding blessing from me, that God did have a plan for me, that God did love me?
I don’t think God wants us to have no expectations. I think God wants us always to expect his blessing, and to be open to what that looks like. I had to learn a new way to wait on the Lord. Only when I had given up on what I wanted was I free to receive God’s greatest gift to me. Only when I stopped expecting a child did I find myself … expecting.
Now that he’s here, my little John, it’s hard to remember a time when he wasn’t. All those years of yearning, the shame and disgrace at my infertility, the envy I felt toward all the mothers around me who took their children for granted… that all faded like steam from a kettle when Zechariah returned from Jerusalem, mute and full of news he couldn’t tell me, and I became pregnant.
When I asked him what had happened in the temple, he wrote it out for me: “An angel appeared to me and told me that my prayer has been heard. He said you would bear me a son, and we will name him John.” It didn’t occur to me to take this literally! I was sure an angel had appeared to my husband, and that the muteness meant something, but I thought it was some spiritual message for us. It wasn’t until a few months on, as I realized something was going on inside my body, that it dawned on me that this was true!
And then, in my sixth month, Mary came to see me so unexpectedly – I remember that like it was yesterday. They told me my cousin was here, and I came out to the hall – and everything went white for a few seconds. The baby inside me went nuts – it felt like he was trying to do back-flips. “Mary is holding the Son of God in her womb, inside her.” That was as clear as day to me, even before she told me about the angel and everything. I didn’t even think about how strange and impossible that could be, that God would somehow be there, inside a woman’s body, but I was filled with this knowledge. Nothing seemed impossible to me anymore. I knew my child would have an important mission, but her child... he is our salvation.
Feeling filled with the Holy Spirit, I said, very loudly – I’m pretty soft-spoken most of the time – “Blessed are you among women! And blessed is the child you will bear. But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” Because I felt so humbled and so privileged, like I was in the presence of something very sacred, very… holy. I told her how the baby inside me leapt for joy at the sound of her voice – like he knew.
I said, “Blessed is she who believes that what the Lord said to her will actually be accomplished. What faith!” How is it we could believe these strange things, both of us? Why is it Mary could believe what the angel said, and my husband couldn’t? But then, did I believe all those years, when I felt God was withholding blessing from me, that God did have a plan for me, that God did love me?
I don’t think God wants us to have no expectations. I think God wants us always to expect his blessing, and to be open to what that looks like. I had to learn a new way to wait on the Lord. Only when I had given up on what I wanted was I free to receive God’s greatest gift to me. Only when I stopped expecting a child did I find myself … expecting.
11-29-18 - Standing Before God
(You can listen to this reflection here.)
Jesus certainly paints a frightening picture of the end times in the portion of Luke’s gospel we hear next Sunday. Perhaps his mood was colored by what was coming next for him – betrayal, arrest, trial, torture and execution, experiencing the full range of human capacity for cruelty. But the apocalypse he foretells is one all of his followers would face. Whether that prophecy was realized in persecutions wrought by the Romans, or whether it is a cosmic cataclysm still to come, he urged them to stay alert and prayerful:
"Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”
The end of the world has come many a time upon people and families and communities and nations. It comes in natural disasters and in man-made horrors like war and famine. The Syrian people have been enduring it for far too long. Is there a final “end” for which we are to be ready at all times?
The early Christians thought so. They took Jesus’ words at face value and thought his return would be imminent. This assumption led some to religious rigor, and others to licentiousness – if the world is going to end any minute, why bother with rules? As weeks turned to years and to decades, people realized they needed to focus on living in the now, releasing the power and joy that are our inheritance as beloved of God. So Paul, writing to the church in Thessalonika (in a passage we'll hear for this Sunday), says:
"May the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you. And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints."
This is another way to prepare ourselves to “stand before the Son of Man” – to learn to love more wholly, to train our hearts in the ways of holiness, to practice repentance and forgiveness, and excel at showing love and hospitality when it is challenging to do so.
We don’t have to wait for the end of the world to stand before Jesus, though one day, we’re told, this present reality will end and we will face him as judge. If we turn our hearts toward that relationship in the here and now, the “then and later” will become something to anticipate, not to fear, no matter how traumatically it occurs.
Practice in your prayer today – stand before Jesus and say, “Make me ready. Make me ready for your life in and around me.” I believe he will answer that prayer in amazing and wondrous ways.
Jesus certainly paints a frightening picture of the end times in the portion of Luke’s gospel we hear next Sunday. Perhaps his mood was colored by what was coming next for him – betrayal, arrest, trial, torture and execution, experiencing the full range of human capacity for cruelty. But the apocalypse he foretells is one all of his followers would face. Whether that prophecy was realized in persecutions wrought by the Romans, or whether it is a cosmic cataclysm still to come, he urged them to stay alert and prayerful:
"Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.”
The end of the world has come many a time upon people and families and communities and nations. It comes in natural disasters and in man-made horrors like war and famine. The Syrian people have been enduring it for far too long. Is there a final “end” for which we are to be ready at all times?
The early Christians thought so. They took Jesus’ words at face value and thought his return would be imminent. This assumption led some to religious rigor, and others to licentiousness – if the world is going to end any minute, why bother with rules? As weeks turned to years and to decades, people realized they needed to focus on living in the now, releasing the power and joy that are our inheritance as beloved of God. So Paul, writing to the church in Thessalonika (in a passage we'll hear for this Sunday), says:
"May the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you. And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints."
This is another way to prepare ourselves to “stand before the Son of Man” – to learn to love more wholly, to train our hearts in the ways of holiness, to practice repentance and forgiveness, and excel at showing love and hospitality when it is challenging to do so.
We don’t have to wait for the end of the world to stand before Jesus, though one day, we’re told, this present reality will end and we will face him as judge. If we turn our hearts toward that relationship in the here and now, the “then and later” will become something to anticipate, not to fear, no matter how traumatically it occurs.
Practice in your prayer today – stand before Jesus and say, “Make me ready. Make me ready for your life in and around me.” I believe he will answer that prayer in amazing and wondrous ways.
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