7-31-18 - The Work of God

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

Many churches and people spend a lot of energy trying to discern and articulate “their mission.” Yet it’s not our mission we need to concern ourselves with; it’s God’s mission in which we are invited to participate. God’s already out there doing it – what we need to discern is where particularly are we feeling a tug to jump in. So I have learned to say “the mission of God,” and have developed a nice, neat definition of what I think that is, a general definition that makes room for any number of specifics: “The mission of God is to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Why, God may even want to post that on his website!

Yet Jesus defined the work of God far more succinctly. When he told the crowds, “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you,” they asked the next logical question: “What must we do to perform the works of God?” 

Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.”

That’s all? Believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Anointed One, “the one on whom God the Father has set his seal?” What about all that other work we think we’re supposed to do? All that feeding and housing and proclaiming and peacemaking? Not to mention the worship planning, vestry meeting, bulletin folding, Facebook posting that occupies our church lives?

It’s a question of sequence. If we do all that stuff without believing that Jesus is who he said he was, we’re just busy. We may do good things, but we’re working out of our own very finite strength and vision. When we put believing first, when we put our whole focus on faith in Jesus as Lord, we come naturally to live out that belief in the places to which the Holy Spirit directs us – some of which may include peacemaking and proclaiming and planning and posting. Jesus told Martha of Bethany straight out, when she complained that her sister was listening to Jesus instead of helping to put lunch on: “Mary has chosen the better part; it will not be taken from her.”

Where is your emphasis as you live out your life as a Christ-follower? It's easy to get sucked into the works and neglect the Work. One way to reorder our priorities is to recommit ourselves to spending some minutes each day seeking Jesus’ presence, allowing ourselves to be filled with his peace and love. Just sit quietly and say, "Come, Lord Jesus." See what develops.

When we know we’re doing the Work, the works flow forth like that mighty stream of Living Water.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-30-18 - Sleight of Hand

(You can listen to this reflection here. Next Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

Who doesn’t enjoy a good magic trick? Even as we may feel foolish for being taken in, it’s fun to be dazzled. And a good magician knows how to dazzle by diverting our attention. I read a profile of a "theatrical pickpocket," one of the world’s most talented, who can lift a watch off a wrist or remove keys from people’s pockets without them being aware. How could anyone be so dumb? They’re not. They’re normal. The pickpocket is able to get in close, direct their attention where he wants, and then take what he wants.

Jesus certainly got people’s attention with both his teaching and his “deeds of power,” or “signs,” as John’s gospel calls them. As this week’s passage begins, we see that the crowd whom Jesus had given the slip by walking on water to his disciples’ boat, and then “magically” getting the boat to its destination, is once again searching for him. They can’t figure out how he got to the other side of the lake.

So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus. When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.”

Their attention, he says, is on their immediate needs, not on the Life of God at loose in the world. Another group he admonishes for only being interested in the miracles, and for their flash value, not the life-altering power to which they point. One way or another, if our attention is on the temporal, on what we think we need, or what we’re impressed by, we’re apt to miss so much of what God is doing in and around us. Jesus invites us to focus on the eternal – and thus to bring transforming power into the everyday.

“Do not work for the food that perishes,” he says, “but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.”

The evil one tries to get us to focus on all the things that don't matter, so that he can rob us of our peace, our power. Then anxiety and depression and conflict increase - as do wars and advertising budgets. Is your focus today on things that give life or sap life? There's something to pray about...

Jesus is not a magician – but as we allow him to get close to us, he can draw our attention to where it needs to be, on his love and power and grace. He just may pick our pockets of all the valuables that mean nothing, and then, presto!, from behind our ears produce a pearl of great price, and invite us to hold it tight.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-27-18 - Grounded in Love

(You can listen to this reflection here.)

At week’s end, let’s leave the gospel and look at the epistle reading appointed for Sunday, from Paul’s letter to the church at Ephesus. There may be more than one letter contained in this document, as this section from the end of chapter 3 is a clear sign-off. (Chapters 4, 5 and 6 start new threads.) This “sign-off” is a beautiful, doxological prayer from the heart for Paul’s listeners – and, I think, all those who would be followers of Christ. So let’s hear these words for ourselves: "I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name."

Paul begins as all prayers should, acknowledging the One to whom the prayer is made, the One who often has inspired the prayer in the first place. This naming of God, Father, Source roots us in the relationship of which our prayer is an expression. Then Paul asks of that Source specific gifts for his beloved: "I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love."

How wonderful to think of being strengthened on the inside, that Christ might dwell in our hearts as we are rooted and grounded in love. Let’s stay with that for a moment – if Christ dwells in our hearts, we are rooted and grounded in love. Not rooted in condemnation or grounded in despair – rooted and grounded in love. Wow. Christ does dwell in us, by virtue of God’s promise to us in baptism, activated by our faith – so love is our foundation. Think about starting each day with that knowledge.

Yet Paul knows how hard it is to hold that knowledge and live in it, so next he prays that his listeners – and all the saints, which includes us – may have the ability to grasp the full extent of that love: 

"I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."

“To know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge.” Our minds alone cannot know the fullness of God’s love; our minds are too small to contain such a mystery. We need to know it in our bodies, in our senses, in the beauty and intricacy and grandeur that surrounds us in this world, and in our spirits. And we really only begin to grasp the extent of that love in community with others trying to know it. I daresay only in community can we be filled with the fullness of God.

So Paul ends with this doxology, recognizing that we are entirely reliant upon the power of God to know and to act out of the fullness of that love: "Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen."

God’s power – the power that made the heavens and the galaxies and the complexity of each cell – is at work in each of us. And that power, not our own, enables us to accomplish things far beyond the realm of the possible, even more than we can imagine. Only one thing is up to us, really: to invite and release that power, to believe that God can accomplish abundantly more than we can ask or imagine. If we just leave it sitting inside, nothing in this world will change. But if we let it out – look out! Love can change everything.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-26-18 - Master of Molecules

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

It can be hard to fathom the pressure Jesus was under, from his celebrity, notoriety, people’s expectations. After the miracle of the loaves and fish, the stakes got even higher:

When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.” When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.

When people began to grasp Jesus’ messiah-ship, the danger went way up. There were divergent views about who the messiah would be and why he would come. In times of war and hardship, messianic hopes became conflated with dreams of military victory, a restoration of Israel’s autonomy. Jesus could see how quickly people might make the leap from “the prophet who is to come” (i.e, Messiah) to king – and he wanted to be very sure not to get caught in that crossfire. So he went off alone to pray and recharge.

Ironically, what happened next demonstrated how much more power Jesus had than any prophet or king before or since. Needing to catch up with his disciples who’d gone ahead in the boat, heading back to Capernaum, Jesus simply exercised the authority he had over all of creation, molecules and all, and took a shortcut across the water:

When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” 

But wait, there’s more – not only did he walk on the water; when he caught up with the boat, it immediately reached its destination: Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going. No more battling the head winds – Jesus said, “We’re going home,” and that was it. Home they were.

Jesus didn’t often circumvent the laws of nature with the laws of Spirit – but on this day, he did it many times. Last week I quoted a definition of faith: “Faith is a spiritual force that becomes a catalyst to activate spiritual laws that have authority over natural laws.” That’s what Jesus was doing, multiplying molecules of food, making solid molecules of water, teleporting a boat to the shore. He was activating spiritual laws that have authority over natural laws.

So… can we do that? I believe we can do a lot when the faith moving through us is strong enough. The apostle Peter took a few steps on the water (in Matthew’s version of this story). Agnes Sanford, a healer, exercised faith over storms and earthquakes, and tells stories of commanding wild animals and being obeyed. Madeleine L’Engle remembers as a child routinely going down stairs without touching them. There are many stories. Yet I know that it is very, very hard for us to disconnect from all the data that says “impossible” and open ourselves to the Power for whom all things are possible. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t stroll on the waves. Today, anyway...

But I can build up my faith with prayers for healing and guidance – and the occasional rebuke of wind and weather. Our faith is a spiritual force, and like our muscles, it gets stronger as we exercise it.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-25-18 - More Than Enough

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

How do you feed 5,000 people with five loaves of bread and two fish? Ask people to sit, and get started.

Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted.

As Luke tells the story, Jesus has people sit in groups of fifty, and the disciples distribute. It’s more manageable to feed 50 than 5,000, right? When a challenge feels overwhelming, we can break it down into pieces – much as the bread was broken. No one can eat a whole loaf without breaking it up; no one can feed a crowd without breaking it down.

Once the people were seated, they were fed. But how? There were only five loaves and two fish. As Andrew said, "But what are they among so many people?”

What they were was plenty – we’re told people got as much of both bread and fish as they wanted. Jesus and his followers just kept giving them out, and there kept being enough. This story appears in all four gospels, and in no version does it say Jesus prayed and created a gigantic pile of food that was then distributed. No, he took what they had, blessed it and gave it out, and everyone had as much as they wanted – AND there were leftovers:

When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets.

Abundance is a principle of God’s realm. As Jesus demonstrated the Life of God, there was always more than enough – vats of water turned into wine, twelve baskets of food left after 5,000 people or more were fed to satisfaction. To people living under the cruel thumb of the occupying Romans, over-taxed to the point of starvation, Jesus said, “Trust in God’s way – it is the way of enough and to spare.”

Abundance may not apply in every situation, but we should always expect it and look for it as we move in faith. Usually when we don’t experience abundance it’s because we didn’t move in faith, but rather on our own steam. And I have found that when I do expect it, I experience it more often. And when I expect “not enough,” that’s often what I find.

Many churches and people are locked into “not enough” thinking, oriented to scarcity. That’s a zero sum game that often leads us to squander the assets we’ve inherited without generating new resources, because who wants to give to an institution that sees itself as lacking? We shrink our missions budgets and pour money into aged, leaky buildings, while the world goes hungry for lack of the Bread of Life we have to share. How might we turn around, take the loaves and fishes we have, and get out there and start feeding people?

Where in your life do you experience abundance? And where does scarcity rule? 

How might we invite God to shift our expectations toward abundance in all areas? Sometimes that requires dealing with the very real losses and disappointments we’ve experienced. It takes a lot of courage to hope for more than enough.

Yet I have found that when I do, that’s when the leftovers pile up. 

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-24-18 - Not Enough?

(You can listen to this reflection here.)

Jesus and his disciples have been around the Sea of Galilee, trying to get some alone time. But they keep being interrupted by crowds seeking Jesus’ healing and teaching. In this week’s passage, we find them sitting on a hill as yet another crowd approaches.

Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples… When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do.

Why Jesus felt responsible for feeding the crowd, I don’t know – did they look hungry? Did he want to keep them peaceful? Or is it just a set-up for the miracle about to be revealed? John implies the latter – Jesus already knows the answer, but wants to know what Philip will say. Philip has done the calculations: “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.”

What are we to do when faced with a big need or a big challenge? Assess the cost. Jesus said that those who would follow him must “count the cost,” just as a builder setting out to erect a tower must project the expenses of materials and labor. So in ministry we need to estimate what any given mission will require. Philip does this, and concludes that the cost is greater than they could ever manage. I’ve heard more than one church leader do the same.

But assessing the cost is only one step. One also has to inventory the assets at hand. Andrew takes this step, asking around, doing some re-con: "One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish.” 

Andrew does his homework, but comes to the same conclusion as Philip: It’s not enough. 

"But what are they among so many people?”

For both Philip and Andrew, the size of the crowd overrides all other data. The magnitude of the need shuts down their ability to think creatively and act strategically. As another gospel tells this tale, the disciples actually suggest dismissing everybody before things get out of hand – the idea of feeding the crowd does not occur to them. It’s impossible.

What needs make you feel helpless? It may be a personal need for resources or a health challenge; it may be a national or global crisis. For me right now, the need to protect wildlife and wild places from the depredations of human industry and greed is the crisis about which I feel “there’s not enough.” We don’t have enough time or money or political will, especially with an administration actively seeking to hasten the damage and roll back the protections. How will help come, and in time?

When we only look at need and resources and make our assessments, we often forget the x factor: the power of God. Jesus knew God could feed that crowd through his disciples. He needed his followers to learn that lesson for themselves.

Today I invite you (and me) to sit with a situation that to you feels too big, too scary, too impossible. Then imagine what Jesus sees when he looks at that situation – try to see it through his eyes. Where are the resources? Where is the abundance? Where do you see God-energy at work?

That's the place to go, to get our faith renewed, and start feeding.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-23-18 - Drawing a Crowd

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

We haven’t moved much in the past few weeks – we’re still with Jesus and his disciples as they criss-cross the Sea of Galilee, encountering one crowd after another, preaching, teaching and healing. But this week we'll see the scene from the perspective of John’s Gospel:

After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick.

John begins this section, “After this…” “After what?” we ask. In the previous chapter, Jesus healed an invalid at the pool of Bethsaida, once more landing in trouble with the temple leaders. As he tries to explain to them his relationship with his heavenly Father, he antagonizes them further. It doesn’t help when he says things like: “But I know that you do not have the love of God in you. I have come in my Father’s name, and you do not accept me.”

Throughout the Gospels, we see how much the religious leaders mistrust Jesus. He challenges the status quo too much, and they feel their authority threatened. But ordinary people flock to him. He is enveloped in crowds wherever he goes, people even running back and forth on the lakeshores to get to where they see his boat headed. What draws these crowds to Jesus? We’re told it’s his teaching and his healing. He did not teach the way other rabbis taught, questioning and crafting complex arguments. He described this realm he called the Kingdom of God by telling stories set in everyday scenes – farms, vineyards, kitchens, pastures, business offices. He spoke of it as a place of grace.

And he demonstrated the reality of this realm through what John calls “signs,” miracles of healing, forgiveness and restoration. Jesus was fully present, compassionate, intuitive, creative – and filled with the Spirit. If we would make our churches centers of contagious faith, we need to model those qualities, inviting Jesus to make them real in us.

There are places in the world where people do throng to hear the Gospel, to receive its teaching, to engage in enthusiastic worship and experience healing. Yet it’s been awhile since many churches in the West drew crowds – some see a trickle at best. To make ourselves feel better, we say, “Who needs a crowd? Probably just full of curiosity seekers. It’s quality, not quantity that matters.” That’s all true – and just maybe God would like our churches to be full of curiosity seekers and those craving meaning and purpose and spiritual connection. Better yet, God might love to see us out of our church buildings, bringing that power and love and joy to people in the course of their daily lives.

I confess I am so consumed with the business of running churches, I don’t even know where or how I’d go about preaching and healing outside. We don’t want to be intrusive, but we want people to know God is real and alive and present. Perhaps you’d join me in praying about the where and when and who. Where might you and your church be called to go outside and make God known?

We don’t need to be obsessed with numbers, but neither need we fear expanding our reach. People still need the same things from Jesus they needed in his day, healing and understanding. If they know they will meet him through us, who knows – we may see throngs too.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-20-18 - He Is Our Peace

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's epistle reading is here.)

At week's end, let’s skip to the epistle reading appointed for Sunday, from Paul’s beautiful letter to the church at Ephesus. This week’s section discusses reconciliation between two factions of Christians who were estranged and becoming more so. Anyone concerned about the alarming divides in American Christianity will note the parallels.

The primary tension afflicting the earliest churches, according to what we read in the book of Acts and Paul’s letters, was between those Jewish Christians who came to faith through Jesus’ Jewish disciples in Judea, and the growing number of Greek and Roman “Gentile” Christians converted through the missionary journeys of Paul and his associates. Paul tried to navigate the conflicts, getting the Jerusalem leadership to back off their demand that Gentile believers be circumcised before baptism, and encouraging the Gentile churches to give generously toward those afflicted by the famine in Judea. But tensions remained; Christ’s body has never truly been one in human history.

In this letter, Paul addresses Gentile believers tired of being considered “not quite Christians” by the Jewish Christian factions. He reminds them that they were once outsiders, “aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.” In light of their new status, he wants them to seek reconciliation with those who would exclude them, and stay rooted in Christ. “For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us.”

Can we be reconciled with Christians who seem to ignore so much Christ did, said and taught? Who ignore his command to welcome the stranger and love the enemy, who assert that our crucified Lord who died the death of a criminal law-breaker in fact “supported the government,” as some U.S. officials have tried to argue? How can we be reconciled in Christ if others don’t seem to be worshipping the same Lord we meet in the New Testament? Here’s a place to start:

So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father.

We all have access to the Father in the Spirit, and so we all have the same access to the truth. What each does with it remains a matter of choice, and it is up to God to reveal and to judge. We are called to bear witness to the truth we encounter in the Gospels, and the Truth we have met in the living person of Jesus Christ. The answer is draw near to Christ, if not to all those who claim to follow him.

Paul ends with this stirring reminder:  

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.

If we make it our intention to base our life in faith on Christ Jesus himself; if we make it our desire to grow together spiritually into a place where God can be known on earth, a temple, a dwelling place; we will have a firm foundation on which to stand in relationship to those who seem to distort Christianity We can disagree without condemning, remembering that the thousands around us who are thirsty for God, are rightly repelled by our conflicts. Let's get busy introducing them to Christ, in peace.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-19-18 - All Were Healed?

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

We end this action-packed chapter of Mark’s gospel with the camera pulling back to a wide angle; after these very specific stories about Jesus’ ministry, we get an overview:

And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the market-places, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.

All who touched it were healed. All who touched even the fringe of Jesus’ cloak were healed. No wonder some healing ministries mail out pre-blessed “healing” handkerchiefs and bits of cloth to people who’ve sent a donation. And maybe I shouldn’t be snarky – if we encounter God in the form of energy, perhaps that divine power lingers in cloth or the walls of holy places. Or is it rather the faith of the people who believe the cloth will heal them that results in healing? Time and again, Jesus told people, “Your faith has healed you.” Is that a "placebo effect?"

Well, as my friend Peter says, "If we knew how, everybody would be doing it." We would actively invite people to be healed. And most Christians do not do that. Why? I think it’s because we have not seen “all healed.” We’ve seen one or two healed, on occasion, and we allow the weight of all those "not healed" to overwhelm us.

I don’t know why so many people in our culture get sick and die without any visible healing – but I do think part of the reason is they’re not prayed for. I wish God would just go ahead without us, but the record of scripture and humanity’s history with God suggests that God has chosen to work through us. And if we don’t allow God to work through us … healing often does not occur. Sure, on rare occasions, God’s will might be for something other than healing, but overall the reign of God leans toward life and more life.

Jesus said healing is a manifestation of God’s Good News. Why would we leave one of the most central Gospel tools unused? God’s desire for us is not illness or trial, but that we be whole and beloved and available to share God’s love with the world. We can pray anywhere and everywhere, any time someone tells us they are struggling with infirmity, be it physical, mental or spiritual. We can invite the healing stream of God’s life already in us by virtue of our baptism to be released into every situation.

And we can help people to become aware of the obstacles to that healing flow – obstacles like self-loathing, or a conviction that healing is not possible, or a deep-seated resentment, or unhealed trauma. We can help shine the light of the Spirit into those dark corners so our friends become more receptive to the power of God at work in them.

I once heard an interesting definition of faith: “Faith is a spiritual force that becomes a catalyst to activate spiritual laws that have authority over natural laws.” If chapter 6 of Mark’s Gospel teaches anything, it is that Jesus demonstrated amazing authority over natural laws – food, water, diseased cells. As he and others exercised faith, people experienced healing and deliverance.

Jesus still has that authority. He is still coming through the villages, towns and marketplaces - but now through us. Let's make ourselves available as conduits of that healing stream.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-18-18 - Bring the Sick

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

When I lead healing services or offer prayers for healing, people often come forward asking prayer not for themselves, but for others. They are right in line with the people of Jesus’ day. This is what happened when Jesus and the disciples came ashore after their adventure on the high seas:

When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was.

People came to hear what Jesus had to say, to hear his stories and wonder at his teaching. But his healing really drew crowds. For Jesus there was no distinction between preaching and healing. “Proclaim the Good News and heal the sick!” he commanded his followers when he sent them out. Healing and other signs of God’s power demonstrated Jesus’ message: that the realm of God was near, in fact was right here, is right here, coexistent with this earthly realm, and breaking through every time we exercise faith.

Words alone rarely have power to transform lives, but words married to actions that express them can change the world. St. Paul knew this as he went about his missionary journeys. As he wrote to the church in Corinth, “My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.” (I Cor. 2:4) Indeed. The church neglects the ministry of healing to its own detriment, and to the impoverishment of a world that needs the gifts the Spirit has given us.

Jesus’ power to heal is undiminished. Only now, he heals through us, and we invite people to bring friends to him not on mats, but in the power of prayer. We can use our imaginations as we intercede. Instead of just lifting up a name or a story, let’s imagine Jesus in our midst, and see ourselves bringing those for whom we pray right into his presence. Be attentive to what you see in prayer – sometimes the Spirit uses images to clue us in to an underlying cause, or to where healing is starting. I was praying for someone once and had a picture of Jesus with his hand on the back of her neck, where many nerves come together. I don’t know quite what that meant, but I noticed it and gave thanks.

Who would you bring to Jesus if he was in your town? Want to try a prayer experiment? Get quiet and centered, and ask Jesus where he might be for you today. If a place comes to mind, go with it. What do you see and hear, smell and feel? Do you take time with him before you bring in your friends? When you’re ready, imagine escorting the people for whom you are concerned right into his presence. How do they interact with him in your imagination? How do you respond?

Whatever you experience in that prayer time, know that God has heard your prayer, and that God is not idle. Invite Jesus to add his perfect faith to your imperfect faith, and release the outcome to God as fully as you can. Every time it comes back up, gently say, “I thank you, Lord, that you desire wholeness for all.” And believe that the Word made flesh has the power to transform everything. 

He already has.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-17-18 - What Was That About Rest?

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel passage is here.)

Yesterday I wrote about how Jesus invited his disciples to come away and rest after their first mission trip. I spoke of the importance of balancing work and rest, ministry and spiritual refreshment. When we left the story, they had gone off, “in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.”

Well, they didn’t get very far. People, seeing where they were to land, got there ahead of them: Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.

Jesus had the right instinct about the need for his disciples to recharge their batteries, but he gave priority to the need he saw around him. He was moved by the fact that these people would run around the lake while he was crossing it, just to catch his teaching and receive his healing. That told him they were hungry for spiritual leadership and feeding, “sheep without a shepherd,” and he yielded to their need, deferring his own need for retreat.

Was Jesus teaching, and modeling, good self-care? Clergy are constantly reminded about the importance of honoring a day off each week as Sabbath time, a continuous 24-hour period not to engage in the work of ministry. There’s good reason for those warnings – for generations, clergy made themselves available 24/7, to the detriment of their own health and families’ well-being. Clergy misconduct is often rooted in poor boundaries, being “on duty” all the time and then feeling entitled to a little extra compensation, whether in the form of an inappropriate relationship or financial “perks.” The same thing can happen with lay ministers who overdo and don’t take time apart to nurture their spirits.

So, should we do what Jesus says, “Come away and rest awhile,” or what he does, putting first the needs around us? The answer is, “Be guided by the Spirit.” Clearly, Jesus was moved to defer his plans for retreat and address the challenges before him. We know by what follows in this story, the feeding of the 5,000 and walking on water (omitted in the lectionary this week), that he is being led by the Spirit the whole way.

And after the feeding is over, he returns to Plan A: Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. After saying farewell to them, he went up on the mountain to pray.

If you’re in a season where you’re being called to give and give in ministry (I’m not talking about plain old over-working here…), be sure to plan some time to rest and recharge. And if that plan gets blown away, make another. Sooner or later, the balance must be restored. But before that well-deserved retreat comes, you just might find yourself sustained by the Spirit, feeding thousands and walking on water.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-16-18 - Breathing In, Breathing Out

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

I am more comfortable doing than being, producing than consuming, achieving than receiving. When I’m in a busy period, I am even hard-pressed to read; I’d rather be writing, working. But too much of this, and the balance is off. Life in God should be like breathing – we have nothing to breathe out if we don’t breathe in.

Jesus demonstrated this as he was training his disciples. He had just sent them out on their first mission to proclaim the Good News of release in God’s love, to heal people and cast out demons. They seem to have had a successful foray, for they are excited to report in when they return:

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.

There are many kinds of prayer. I pray throughout the day, asking, thanking, praising, lamenting, repenting. But there is another way to pray, the “be still and know that I am God” way of sitting quietly in a dedicated time and space, “a deserted place all by yourself,” letting your spirit get quiet so you can hear what God has to say to you. That is where our relationship with Jesus can really grow. Christ followers need this prayer practice too. The longer days and slower pace of summer allow us to jump-start such a practice, taking a retreat or praying outside.

Often, though, I run back to the task list, bouncing to the next thing, ignoring the thirst in my spirit. Or perhaps more precisely, diverting my attention from the thirst in my spirit, because to access that promised living water demands an intimacy I don’t want to give myself to. Jesus invites us to go apart with him just as he invited his first followers. He wants to hear how our lives are, where we are encountering God, how are ministries are bearing fruit, or not. He wants us to rest with him. I think he waits on us as we might wait on a wild animal, sitting quite still so we will draw near, hoping we don't get spooked and run away.

I know this – that to offer ministry in the name of Christ without receiving the regular anointing of Christ in prayer is to offer water from a leaky pitcher. I’m grateful to the Spirit for giving me three words as I write this: rejoice, review, recharge. I recommit myself to allowing God’s presence to draw near to me, and I invite you to join me, setting aside a time, a place, and a heart as open and honest as you can make it. Just sit and say, "Here I am, Jesus." Don't apologize for how long it may have been since you last came - just start where you start.

Rejoice in all the ways God is active in your life and heart. 

Review your day or week, your responses and feelings.
Recharge your spirit, drawing deep from the water of life.

And listen. We may receive guidance, we may receive encouragement, we may be reminded to expect blessing. We may hear many things from the One who made us, among them, “Well done, my beloved.”

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-13-18 - The Hole-y Bible

(You can listen to this reflection here.)

I accept the Holy Scriptures as having spiritual authority, as God-inspired words set down by holy and faithful men and women, our ancestors in faith. I don’t believe in cherry-picking the texts that “work for us,” or picking and choosing what we find helpful or relevant. If anything, I think followers of Christ should ask how we might be made more relevant to the scriptures than the other way around.

And yet… there are passages, like this week’s gospel, which may speak truth about human depravity, but in which I can discern little spiritual benefit. The beheading of John, the rapes of Dinah and Tamar, the conquest of Ai, the endless cosmic battles in Revelation, pretty much the whole bloody book of Judges. What are we to make of these passages in which the human origin or score-settling seems to far outweigh any discernible divine inspiration?

Some people, like Thomas Jefferson, simply cut out the parts of Scripture they don’t agree with; in Jefferson’s case, that meant any reference to the miraculous or supernatural. Others, like Jehovah’s Witnesses, alter passages that don’t match their theology. Others ignore the parts they don’t like, or focus on one part of the Bible to the exclusion of others, which can lead to a dangerous lack of balance in teaching and living. Any of these approaches lead to a hole-y bible rather than Holy Writ.

How can we appreciate the holiness of God’s Word when not every word seems very holy? I try to remember that someone was inviting the presence of the Holy Spirit to indwell it at every stage of its transmission – as a story passed along orally, when written down (sometimes by multiple sources), when edited and collected and consecrated by the community of faith, when translated, and finally when read by us. We can pray that God reveal to us a nugget of grace in even the worst passage. After all, in our lives we encounter many horrible stories in which we need to be able to discern the redemptive power of God, for that is what we proclaim, a God who has triumphed over sin and death.

I appreciate the challenge of finding some good news in any passage of scripture, some connection to God’s plan of salvation. For instance, this week’s gospel passage rounds out the picture we have of John the Baptist, his fierce and fearless dedication to the mission of God, and reminds us that our days in this world are but the blink of an eye in the scope of our eternal life with God.

That being said, we won’t hear this passage in my churches this weekend – I’m in the middle of a worship series on Creation. With only 52 Sundays in the year, and many life-giving, soul-transforming messages to impart. I don’t want to give this sad tale airtime that could go to a story of healing or ministry that encourages the faithful.

This story is a part of the Holy Bible, and as such it is also holy, set apart, like the people of God. We can rejoice in the way that John the Baptist was willing to allow himself to be an integral part of that plan, in life and in death. And we can receive it as one of the realities of this world that is passing away, as God works out that plan “to gather up all things in Christ, things in heaven and things on earth.”

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-12-18 - No Promise of Protection

(You can listen to this reflection here.)

Okay, let’s take a look at this gospel passage I’ve been avoiding all week, which tells the story of how and why John the Baptist was beheaded after many years in King Herod’s dungeon. It’s a grim story; there’s nothing obviously redemptive about it. Evil triumphs over good, as it so often seems to do in the world. Maybe that’s why neither Matthew nor Luke include it in their gospels, even as they absorb so much of what is in Mark’s narrative.

Mark strays into the story as he talks about how some thought Jesus was John the Baptist risen from the dead – and one person who thought that was King Herod. So then Mark tells how Herod came to have John beheaded, though, “Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him.”

It was Herod’s wife who pressured him into arresting John. Herodias had previously been married to Herod’s brother, and John had not hesitated to inform the Galilean king that her remarriage ran counter to the law of Moses. Because he spoke out, “Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him.” She finally saw her moment when Herod threw himself a birthday party with all the VIPs of Galilee. The food and wine flowed freely, and there was even entertainment: Herodias’ daughter (later tradition calls her Salome, but she is not named here), danced for Herod. Her dance so pleased the drunken despot that he swore to give her whatever she wanted, up to half his kingdom, as Hebrew kings were wont to do (see the book of Esther). The girl asks her mother what to ask for and there it is: “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” Herod was “grieved,” we’re told, but his need to save face before his guests trumped his conscience, and so the gruesome order was carried out. John’s head was presented on a platter to the girl, who dutifully gave it to her mother. A great servant of God was dead at the hands of the vengeful and the flirtatious.

So why are we reading this on a Sunday in church, especially in Year B when we seem to skip the story of the healing of the Gadarene demoniac, a much more transformational tale? Maybe a better question is: How can we benefit from this story? Can we find any blessing in it?

It does remind us that serving God comes with no guarantee of safety. We pray for protection from bodily harm, and we thank God when we avoid it, but in fact it is not among the promises we receive as followers of the Crucified One – just ask the many persecuted Christians terrorized and killed the world over.

To speak the truth in the face of persecution, to proclaim the Good News that Jesus is Lord, to take his teachings at face value and love your enemy – this is the call of every follower of Christ, always hoping that the worst we will face is rejection or a complacent disinterest. That is the worst most of us will face – so maybe we can be bolder about speaking the truth and proclaiming the Gospel, if only to honor those who paid a much higher price.

The only positive element I find in this story is at the end:
When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

It reminds us that John was part of a holy community, with followers willing to stand by him in life, and claim him as their own in death. That community carried on his legacy and his life. May we do as much for the martyrs of our time, in the name of Christ.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-11-18 - Trust Fund

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's epistle reading is here.)

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a “trust fund baby,” to have wealth sufficient to buy anything I want, to know I will receive a steady stream of income my whole life. Would it be freeing? Deadening? Enabling of dysfunction or generosity or both?

I doubt I’ll ever know that in the financial sense. But I’m told I’m the beneficiary of a pretty huge trust fund spiritually, one that I can access any time I want:

In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.

This inheritance, which gives us access to the power that made the heavens, which can heal the sick and revive the soul, is already ours: “We have obtained” it. Paul lays out some steps to taking hold of it – hearing the word of truth, the Good News of access to the love of God; believing in Jesus Christ; being sealed in the Holy Spirit as a pledge on the inheritance to come. "Marked with the seal" refers to the chrismation in baptism, that moment when the newly baptized is anointed with oil. In our Episcopal rite, this is accompanied by the words, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”

In that moment, we receive the gift of the Spirit in our lives, the Spirit of Christ with whom we are united in baptism. All the riches in that trust fund become available to us – the faith to believe in what cannot be seen, the power to heal what seems hopeless, the grace to forgive the unforgivable, the capacity to love beyond our ability. That sealing, Paul says, is a pledge, a down payment, on the fullness of life in the Spirit we will know in eternity, which we begin to live into in this life.

The question for us is: will we draw on the funds already available to us, or leave that trust fund sitting? There is no benefit to leaving it alone – unlike most bank accounts, this fund grows as it is drawn on; it accrues interest by being used. It will never run out, and there is no limit to how many times we can withdraw from it. God’s power is not rationed or constrained – we can pray for bad colds as well as world peace, and never exhaust the power and love there for us.

For what would you like to draw on that trust fund? Where around you do you perceive a need for healing, hope, forgiveness, peace, grace and love? Go ahead – take it out. The fund will not diminish. It will only grow.

We have heard the truth of the Gospel. We are invited to believe and to be baptized. We have received the promised Holy Spirit, and been given the bank card to use the funds. The password is Maranatha, “Come, Lord Jesus.”

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-10-18 - Lavish Grace

(You can listen to this reflection here.)

When was the last time something was lavished on you? Hospitality? Kindness? Luxury? We don’t always associate words like “lavished” and “riches” and “pleasure” with our relationship with God (thank you, Puritan forebears!). But Paul lays it on thick when rhapsodizing about God’s generosity toward us in forgiveness and redemption.

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

How we feel about being forgiven and redeemed is linked to whether or not we feel we need forgiving and redeeming. Some people feel guilt and shame pretty easily – for them, those are words of life. Others are offended by the notion that we, good creatures made in the image of God, could be characterized as “sinners”; they find the whole notion of confession and forgiveness oppressive. Some resist the language of sin in our worship services, as though the word itself conveys a wrong emphasis. Perhaps we should talk about hurtfulness; most people get that.

St. Paul had no problem talking about guilt and shame – he knew how prideful and arrogant he had been as a follower of the Mosaic law, and how violently and zealously he had persecuted Christ-followers. He had a visceral gratitude for the forgiveness and redemption he came to understand as God's gift through Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. Seeing how destructive he could be allowed him to grasp the true cost and immeasurable value of God’s forgiving grace.

John Newton, the repentant slave trader who wrote the hymn Amazing Grace, understood what that unmerited redemption was worth once he came to see how lost he was, how depraved in his disregard for the value of other human beings. It took recognizing his sinfulness to understand the extent of God’s transforming love – a love that not only restores individuals, but is part of God’s larger plan to restore all of creation to wholeness, “things in heaven and things on earth.”

When have you have been the recipient of “amazing grace” from someone? From God? It can be simultaneously humiliating and exhilarating to be on the receiving end of forgiveness when we’re aware of how hurtful we can be.

And have you been called upon to forgive an extraordinary hurt? How did you come to offer that gift? Was it connected to grace you’ve received? This is one reason we include confession in our prayers – to remember who we are, and how loved we are because and in spite of who we are.

Our nation saw grace “lavished” when members of Emmanuel AME Church in Charleston, even the families of those massacred there, freely offered forgiveness to the murderer. Many observers took offense at that, feeling that that young man did not deserve to be forgiven, especially as he seemed unrepentant. To which the Christian says, "Exactly." Those who offered forgiveness understood that, from the perspective of God’s holiness, none of us deserve it, yet God has lavished grace upon us.

Only as we understand that we need and have received that grace for ourselves are we truly able to lavish it on others. And as we do that, God's plan for the cosmos gets more and more complete.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-9-18 - ABC: Adopted, Blessed, Chosen

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's Epistle reading is here.)

Murder. Beheadings. Corrupt despots. Politicians partying with underage femme fatales. We get plenty of this in the news; must we encounter it in the pages of our Bible? Well – yes, there’s plenty of all that in the Bible, which, after all, chronicles the movement of God in human life – and often reminds us how desperately humankind needs that gift. A most unappealing story comes up in this Sunday's gospel: the account of how King Herod came to have John the Baptist beheaded. No doubt we can learn something from this sordid tale, but I have no wish to spend our whole week on it.

Happily Sunday’s readings also include one of my top ten hits – the beginning of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. This letter contains some of the most beautiful, lyrical passages in the New Testament; one year I actually memorized the first three chapters as a Lenten discipline. Paul is so effusive in his praise of God and so passionate in his prayer for this community he has heard about. Here's how it starts:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved.

Just pick out the verbs in that paragraph: blessed, chosen, destined, bestowed. In each case, God is the actor and we are the receivers – we are those blessed with every spiritual blessing that is going on right now in the heavenly places; we are those chosen before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before God in love. That one sentence binds up our deepest past and our farthest future – and it’s all right now, already happening, on earth as it is in heaven.

Paul writes that God destined us for adoption as God’s children through Christ. This is great for us, but also, it appears, somehow adds to the praise of God’s grace freely given us in the Beloved, who is Christ. Imagine: when we receive God’s grace, it further praises the giver of that very gift. So when we refuse the gift of grace, when we try to justify ourselves, when we shun God’s forgiving mercy and insist on punishing ourselves, when we stubbornly cling to our self-sufficiency and illusions of control… God is less praised. Who'd have thought that not taking an offered gift could have such cosmic effect?

I was born into a wonderful human family in which I am birth-daughter, sister, aunt. I have also been adopted into the eternal and worldwide family of God, which has made me daughter, sister, mother to so many beautiful souls, chosen with me before the foundations of the world to be holy and blameless before God in love.

I can think of no better prayer today – for us to take in the immeasurable love in which we were made and in which we live. Thanks be to God!

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-6-18 - On the Job Training

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

Those who would carry forward the ministry of Jesus’ apostles as ordained leaders today must often go through a great deal of discernment and training and formation. In the Episcopal church, discernment can take 3-5 years, with parish committees, diocesan committees, meetings with bishops, psychologists, often more than once. Training means a three-year seminary education, learning church history, theology, practice of ministry and how to interpret the Scriptures. Formation includes field education, chaplaincy, spiritual direction, mentorships, retreats…

And a person can emerge from all that and still not feel equipped to cast out demons or cure people of disease! Which is what the original apostles of Jesus did on their first foray, learning as they went: So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

This is fairly astonishing; these men had no formal instruction, and had until recently been living ordinary lives, with families, engaged in livelihoods like fishing and tax collecting. But you don't need training to allow the Spirit of God to work through you – you need to learn how to get out of God’s way. We can see, following this band of Christ-followers through the pages of the New Testament, that it took a lot longer to get that down. But here, at the outset, they are already competent at demonstrating the healing and power over evil that are prime markers of God’s realm.

Do we feel equipped to be apostles of Christ in our surroundings? Do we even know what that means for us? It’s not complicated; “apostolic” means doing whatever Jesus’ apostles did. And they did this: proclaimed God’s reign, invited people to open themselves to God’s love (repentance), and demonstrated that love by curing the sick and casting out evil wherever they encountered it. They did this not on their own, but by God’s power working through them as Jesus gave them authority. That’s apostolic.

We too have been given this gift of Spirit and this authority over evil. We don’t need any more training to be apostles than the original ones did. We too can learn on the job.

Still, as strongly as I believe this, I find it hard to get out there. It’s so counter-cultural for us, to go out in public, or among people we know, offering prayer and healing. I've developed teams at different churches to do just that, and we find excuses not to go. Yet whenever we do, we encounter such a positive reception and such blessing.

I am deeply grateful for all the formal education and training I received, and I hope my communities benefit from it. I also know that all I really need is the power of the Holy Spirit alive and working through me, and the courage to let her flow. You too!

Today I turn over a new decade on my odometer - pray that the Spirit keeps flowing thick and fast through me.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-5-18 - Radical Hospitality

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

Many churches use the term “radical hospitality” to describe their processes for welcoming visitors. In practice, this often means good signage, an alert and well-trained cadre of greeters, easy-to-follow service booklets, and people ready to help newcomers navigate the liturgy and escort them personally to coffee hour. On a deeper level, it can mean that a congregation is trained to welcome people who "come as they are,” not to impose its norms upon visitors, to create an atmosphere of warmth and acceptance and openness to the gifts a visitor might bring.

This is the kind of hospitality which Jesus’ disciples were to seek as they went out in twos on their first mission without Jesus: He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place.”

Since he’d already told them not to take any money or extra clothing, it was clear they wouldn’t be bearing hostess gifts. They would bring the power to heal, authority over unclean spirits, and the Good News of release and wholeness to be found in Jesus Christ. If they found people willing to take them in and care for them under those conditions, they were to remain there, not moving from house to house looking for the best breakfast. The point was to leave time and energy free for preaching and healing.

And if they did not find that kind of hospitality or the people in a given town didn’t want to hear their message? Then they should keep moving, and find somewhere more fruitful:
"If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”

This might sound harsh to us, but Jesus wasn’t sending his disciples out on a Grand Tour. He was sending them to proclaim the Gospel and to exert authority over evil. To do that they were going to have to become what one wag humorously described herself to be: “fiercely dependent" - and discerning about where to spend time.

Hospitality that is truly radical allows a wonderful exchange between visitor and host. It does not treat a visitor as a guest, but welcomes her as family the very first time she comes. It does not put all the focus on what we can offer, setting up an “us and them,” or subtly seek to exert power through generosity. We should seek a mutual sharing of gifts when we bring dinner to the homeless shelter as much as when someone joins us for worship.

Truly radical hospitality recognizes that each person may well be an apostle of Jesus Christ, with gifts and a message for us. How many more church visitors might come a second time if we asked, instead of, “What can we do for you?” it was, “What are the gifts you bring? We welcome them as we welcome you.”

Sometimes radical hospitality is what we're called to find, and sometimes it's what we're called to offer. Both ways, we are called to give and to receive, all at the same time. And in that giving and receiving, community is formed.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-4-18 - Packing Light

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

My baggage volume varies greatly according to mode of transportation, temperature and likelihood of a social life. If I’m flying to the cottage, I pack pretty light, since I’ll have to carry my luggage and don't need much dress-up attire. Going to a weekend wedding, I’ve been known to carry multiple outfits and more pairs of shoes than there are occasions to wear them – one must have options.

I would have flunked Jesus' Packing 101. As he headed out on another teaching tour, he sent his disciples out too: He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics.

I guess he didn’t mean sandals in seven colors, did he? They were to carry nothing, no luggage, no change of clothes, no money. He insisted they rely completely on the resources they could find in the villages to which they went. They had to live by faith and the Spirit's guidance.

I wonder if we could do this for even one day. Some have to; others have tried it. I know of a bishop who lived homeless in New York City for a month, and there is Barbara Ehrenreich’s experience detailed in her book “Nickel and Dimed,” in which she attempted to live in America on minimum wage jobs. But I don’t think many of us would get very far.

Why would Jesus insist on such stringent conditions for his disciples on their first trip out? To go with nothing, no money, no safety net? Perhaps it’s because he wasn’t sending them with nothing. For one thing, he sent them in twos; nobody went alone. And he sent them with the Spirit’s power, and authority over unclean spirits. They had ammunition against the strongest danger they faced, spiritual temptation and interference from the minions of the Evil One. Physical challenges they could handle, if they could learn to trust.

Absolute faith would be required for those who were to carry forward the mission of God revealed in Christ. Absolute faith is still required. All our safety nets and insurance and savings hold us back from putting “our whole trust in his grace and love,” as Episcopalians promise in baptism. And no, I’m not ready to part with mine yet. I am ready to look at and pray about how they compromise my faith.

St. Francis of Assisi, when he renounced his family’s wealth and severed his relationship with his father, even took off his clothes so as to carry nothing from that life with him. One requirement of those who would join him, at least in the early days when he was still in charge of his own order, was that brothers sell all their possessions and give them to the poor, owning no property at all.

On this Independence Day, contemplating an America in which 64 million people work for less than $15 an hour, while the 400 richest Americans have more wealth than the 204 million who make up the lowest 64 percent of the US population (2017 stats, per the Poor People’s Campaign), we need to ask not only what it means to pack light, but what our independence means if it is shared by so few.

What Christians are to do with wealth is one of the most vexing questions that face us. Giving a lot away makes us feel better about having it – and for those who are content to be on the outer edges of Christ’s life, that is just fine. Jesus did commend generosity. But for those who follow him closely? I suspect our baggage contains much to pray about.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-3-18 - The Power of Unbelief

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

I live in a beautiful place, but one without wifi. For an internet connection, I rely on a hotspot generated by my phone, which in turn depends on the signal strength at any given moment. It can take forever to accomplish a simple task, like posting and sending Water Daily, when the connection isn’t as strong as it can be. This comes to mind as I read about the effect his townspeople’s skepticism had on Jesus’ ability to wield the power of God:

Then Jesus said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief.

All he could do was cure “a few sick people.” It is hard to imagine that anything can impede the power of God to effect what it will, especially when channeled by one whose faith lacks nothing. But Jesus attributed the “connectivity problem” to the unbelief he encountered in that place where they thought they knew him so well. People further away accepted him fully as he was; his homies could not believe that the Yeshua they’d grown up with was indeed the Anointed One, the Messiah. Their lack of faith held him back.

This should not surprise us. We think of Jesus as the power behind miracles, yet over and over he commends the faith of the people whom he heals, saying, “Your faith has made you well." Jesus responded to the faith he encountered – and I guess he still does. It puts a lot of pressure on us, doesn’t it, to think that God responds to the faith of those praying.

It can be a quick jump from there to the notion that someone who is sick or hurting doesn’t experience healing because they lack faith – and unfortunately, some in the healing ministry tell people that. Wrong. The faith to which God responds needs to be in the community that is praying for someone to be healed. God does not punish people for lack of faith – it just seems that God’s power is impeded when there is a lot of disbelief in a system. That’s why communities in which healing is regularly invited and expected tend to see a lot more of it than those who think it’s rare and don’t exercise their faith in prayer.

Does that put a lot of responsibility on us as people of faith? You bet it does! It means our faith matters more than perhaps we wish it did. It means we do all we can to strengthen the faith of those around us. We make space for questions, sure, but we don’t encourage disbelief. The stronger the faith in the community, the more invitation there is for Jesus power to be released in and through us.

As our Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, has said in, quoting St. Augustine, "Without God we cannot; without us, He will not.” And he added, “Together with God we can and we will.”

Without us, God will not. The Omnipotent can, of course, but has chosen to give us that much power to participate in God’s work. Let’s tap into the signal and let the connectivity and power flow!

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.

7-2-18 - Too Close to See

(You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.)

In the stories we’ve read the past few weeks, Jesus has been busy - preaching to massive crowds, stilling a storm, healing multitudes, restoring a young girl to life. Maybe he needed a break? A little of Mom’s home cooking? We don’t know why, but Mark tells us that his next move was to go home.

He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joss and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him.

Whoever said familiarity breeds contempt had a clue. When people have known you for a long time, they often feel they know the “real you.” They're too close to see you clearly. Perhaps they feel some envy if you've changed or done well “out in the world.” The people of Nazareth may have been proud to hear of Jesus’ exploits, but when he’s right there, teaching in the synagogue, they don’t seem able to celebrate his wisdom or his power. It makes them too uncomfortable to see him break out of the box they built for him.

We too can be like Jesus’ neighbors – after all, many of us have known him all our lives, or at least known about him. We know his bio – his wondrous birth, horrific death, miraculous resurrection, even if we might be a bit muddy on what happens in between. Whatever our level of engagement with Jesus, it’s easy to put him in a box along with a lot of other preconceived notions we cling to.

But Jesus is always breaking out of the boxes we build for him. When we begin to know him, to hear for ourselves his often sardonic wisdom, to encounter the uncontainable power he brings even from beyond the grave, to recognize the claims he makes on us as people of faith who are to be seekers of justice… we might react like those townsfolk.

“Who is this guy? I thought he was all about being a good person. You mean he’s really about undoing structures that hold back the less privileged? You mean he really asks me to lay down my prerogatives in the cause of peace? He’s really about healing my wounds, not just some lepers back then? Maybe I don’t want him near my wounds. Maybe I don’t want to tear down injustices when they benefit me or my people.”

If we have grown up with Jesus, with the gentle shepherd in children’s bibles (as though shepherds don’t have to be fierce!), we might have to let a lot go and start fresh, seeking to know him in our lives now. We won’t find him in the pages of our bibles – that is where we learn about him.

To know him, we need to spend time in his presence, in prayer. If we’re not already in that habit, simply sit in a room with some quiet and say, “Come, Lord Jesus. What do you want for me today?” Do it again the next day, and write down what comes to you in that time of quiet encounter.

I have a feeling we’ll get an answer, and that can be the beginning, or the continuation, of an acquaintance that always breaks out of the box – and maybe even breaks us out of our own boxes.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here.