Water Daily: December 2021

12-31-21 - On the Threshold of Grace

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

Here we are - for a moment. The wheels of time are about to spin us into a new year. A new journey unfolds, new destinations, new challenges, new blessings. As we rest on this threshold, we might adopt the outlook of those magi who traveled so far to see this king their study of the stars indicated had been born:

When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Like the magi, we’ve heard of Jesus. We’ve even met him. But we don’t begin to know him. So this year let’s follow whatever stars we discern can lead us to a deeper acquaintance, even intimacy, with him. What might that look like in your life?

And when we arrive at those moments of connection and knowing, let’s allow ourselves to be overwhelmed with joy.

And let’s frequently enter the house where we know he's likely to hang out, and offer our devotion, kneeling because that’s what you do when you’re overcome with gratitude and awe.

And let’s open our hearts and wallets, giving fully of ourselves to this One who’s given everything for us.

And when we return to our ordinary lives – for these moments of grace-filled connection don’t last forever; our lives are a string that connects these pearls into a beautiful strand – let’s go back by another route. Not because we are afraid, but because God is always leading us forward into new gifts, new blessings, new landscapes and vistas, new uses for our gifts, and new companions on the way. Where will the road lead you this year?

Wishing you every blessing as the New Year unwraps its gifts for you!

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12-30-21 - Y2K

You can listen to this reflection 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 – nor had the world run on computer systems no one was 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 not. Pop the corks and strike up the band. (Anyone remember life pre-pandemic?)

We sure do like to know what’s going to happen next year, day, hour. And sometimes (too often, lately) things come 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 Jewish people.

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?”

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.

As we approach the end of this year, a year of trauma and anxiety, gains and losses, achievements and challenges, 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?

12-29-21 - Planning the Journey

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

“If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there,” the Cheshire Cat says (in somewhat different words) in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. That is an approach to life many have adopted – drift and see where you land. Others take the route of intention. Our star-gazing magi were of the latter variety.

As we approach a new year and consider what intentions or goals we may want to set, destinations for which we may want to chart a course, let’s see what wisdom these wise ones might share with us, what steps we might follow to live our life in God with greater purpose.

Discern – Notice what God is up to. Those magi studied the heavens and knew when a new star arose (perhaps a supernova). They were intrigued and explored what it might mean. So we need to be awake to what snags our attention – perhaps a need around us, a passion within us, joy, pain, outrage, tenderness – where has God set a star for you?

Chart a course – How will you get where you are going? What route is best for you – fast, scenic, with or without tolls? Even when we’re not sure of our destination, like those magi, that star we’ve seen gives us a direction. If there are some things you’d like to accomplish this year, or this week, break down the steps required to get there.

Pack – What do you need for this journey? A time set aside each day? A place? A journal? A companion to travel with, someone to share insights and pitfalls as you go? Gifts to bring when you arrive? And what might you choose to leave behind? Distracting activities or people? Disappointments in faith? Previous attempts at spiritual discipline? Patterns that no longer serve you?

Dare - Those magi came to Bethlehem from a faraway land, risking injury, robbery, danger, losing their way. As we embark on our spiritual adventure, let us pray for some of their courage, to be open to what lies ahead, trusting God’s presence with us in challenges and victories, trusting God’s gifts that sustain us on the way, trusting God’s guidance as we move closer to God’s heart.

The term “spiritual journey” is over-used but not inaccurate. Our life in Christ always involves movement forward, an unsettled yearning, pilgrimage. Yet even on the journey we can be alive to the gifts we receive, like a good meal and conversation in a warm place after a day of hiking. As one of my favorite bands, Calexico, sings in Cumbia de Donde:

I'm not from here, I'm not from there.

Where am I going? Should I care?
When will I get there? Can you even say?

I'm in the moment I'm on my way. I'm on my way.

12-28-21 - Getting There

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

Until you’re there, you’re not. This is a truth I relearn every Christmas as I rush to be with family, slowed by speed limits, traffic lights, other drivers. I want to be through the miles, onto the next leg of the route, arriving – but I can only be where I am at each moment. Until you’re there, you’re not.

The sages who had come so many miles in search of the new king whose star they’d seen rising in their night skies had reasons for wanting to get there. They had invested a great deal in this trip, in trusting the stellar guidance as they read it. Maybe people at home had called theirs a fool’s errand; maybe they’d read the stars wrong. This Herod fellow certainly hadn’t known anything about a new king; he just sent them off toward Bethlehem. They didn't even know where "there" was. Until they were there, they weren’t.

But they had that star as a beacon: ...they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.

Imagine what these star-followers felt when the guidance held true! Real men or mythic figures – or both – these sages were overwhelmed with joy when they were led to a simple house. And if they were surprised to find there an ordinary young family, we see no indication in their actions: On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

What a way to greet a king, even one who didn't t look like one: in a house, not a palace; attended only by his mother. Our wise travelers were unfazed. They knew they had arrived where they needed to be. They had come with three goals – they wanted to see, they wanted to honor, they wanted to gift. And when they had done what they came to do, they went home, guided by the wisdom that had brought them to Bethlehem, to be ready for the next adventure.

Maybe we can find in their goals a guide to our devotion:

To want to see Jesus. Make that a prayer; ask the Spirit to expand your faith vision to see Jesus wherever he might be in your life this week, in prayer, in worship, in his Word, in the poor, in other people…
To want to honor Jesus. Offer Him praises, adoration in your heart, with your voice, in your actions…
To give him precious gifts. What is precious to you that you want to offer Jesus? Your time? Energy? Relationships? Maybe ask what he would like you to give… you might be surprised at the answer.

This journey of seeing, honoring, giving is one we make over and over again, arriving “there” only to leave again. Each time we arrive where Jesus is we are strengthened for the next trip, which might be in five minutes, or five weeks; and on each journey we see the sights somewhat differently. Until we’re there, we’re not.

12-27-21 - Star-Chasers

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

They knew their stars, these wise men, magi of scripture and legend, astrologers or astronomers from east of Judea (how far east? Everything’s relative…). They knew they had observed a new star in the night sky, and they knew how to interpret what they saw. According to their calculations, this one indicated a new king for the Jewish people – and this discernment induced them to leave home, undertake a lengthy journey of uncertain destination, find this new monarch and offer honor. Were they cultivating an alliance with a powerful new figure, or simply paying their respects?

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.”

Their predictions got them to the right country, if not the precise location where this new king could be found. And so, logically, they began their search in Jerusalem at the court of the current king, Herod. Bad idea – but that’s how great stories come about. More on that later in the week…

Today, let’s rest with these travelers. I am touched by their priorities, their attention to the movement of the heavens, their conviction that they’d read the stars correctly, their willingness to put aside their daily lives and duties to travel to a foreign land and pay homage to a monarch they’d only learned about through astrological charts and observation. They are models for us of faith in action, even amid our global crises that just keep coming.

Is there a star you are chasing? Another way to ask that is,
Have you discerned a movement of God in your life or in the world around you?

Has it included a call to action for you?
Have you explored this with wise people in your life?
Have you been able to act on your discernment?
Have you been part of someone else’s discernment, been a “wise one” for another?

What divine action do you sense around you at this point in your life, on the cusp of a new year? This is often a time when we pay special attention to new movements in the greater arc of our lives, as the magi scanned the heavens for changes in the stars.

We have an advantage over those eastern sages – we already know the king they were seeking, or at the very least, we’ve been introduced. We don’t need to scan the heavens – we need only seek the light of Christ in and around us, and move toward that. That Star will give us all the direction we need.

12-24-21 - 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 comes to mind as I think 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. Because humankind could not understand the language in which God was communicating. 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.

Jesus himself is worthy of our interest and attention and devotion. But we miss more than half the point if we forget that all that love and power and mercy and holiness and desire for justice was revealing to us who God is. In demonstrating how things work in the realm of God, the Life of God, Jesus was showing us God, making God known.

Tonight we celebrate God made known in the most vulnerable of states – and yet powerful enough to command the attendance of kings and angels. And, I hope, compelling enough to command our attention and love, on this day when we celebrate his wondrous birth. Christmas has just begun.

A blessed Eve of the Feast of the Incarnation to you. God has used his Word to make God’s love known. I pray that today, and every day, we will use our words to make God’s love known to one another.

12-23-21 - 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. It may be 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.

I confess my capacity for wonder is a little tarnished these days. A spate of funerals on top of Advent and Christmas planning has kept me busy the past eight weeks - and that was before Omicron started its spread. I only put my crèche up yesterday and haven’t had time to shop for gifts. No lights or ornaments yet bedeck my halls, which pretty well describes my engagement in the whole Yuletide thing this year. 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 too 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. The way John puts it is that Jesus 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? Remember, children do not generally feel responsible for everything the way adults tend to. Can we remind each other that we’re not actually in charge of making Christmas, or the world, 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? Let yourself hope.

Maybe I need to sit under my undecorated 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 are about to celebrate. Maybe that will help me rediscover the joy of being claimed as beloved by that Love, and let my inner child of God come out to play.

12-22-21 - 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 lately, 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 pain and injustice and oppression – which is important to remedying such conditions. Often that is part of our calling as followers of Christ. But not without the even more important calling: to bear witness to the light. That was the vocation of John the Baptist, a holy man who came 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.

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 in our world, we have to be aware of where we experience the light of Christ, what darkness we have seen enlightened by the presence and love of God.

Today the light will last a little longer than yesterday now that we’re past the winter solstice; tomorrow, a little longer still. As Christ followers we are always living on this side of the longest night, as we participate in bringing more light each day than the last. In the midst of preparations for Christmas Eve, take a little time to reflect on where the light of Christ is most visible to you. And then find someone and bear witness to that hope.

12-21-21- Life and Light

You can listen to this reflection here.

Well, this worked out nicely – the next part of this week's gospel passage is about life and light, light overcoming darkness. And here it is, the longest night of the year. We’ve experienced increasing darkness all through Advent – and not only with the shortening of days. Now comes the promise that light will prevail: 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.

I once had a very vivid dream. I was driving a car in a strange city, my parents in the back seat. In this city, all the hospitality businesses – hotels, restaurants, bars – were in one part of town, and we were looking for a particular hotel driveway. But there were no lights. Nothing. No car lights, no street lights, no lights in windows, nothing. Pitch black. We were hurtling through the dark, looking for this driveway, with no way to see. It was very scary.

And then someone in the back said, “Have you tried the infra-red lights?” And I flicked a switch on the dashboard, and boom! All the lights sprang out. Street lights, lights from cars, lights in windows. They’d all been there, but we couldn’t see them without the infra-red lights.

It seemed to me the next morning that this had been a God dream – but I wasn’t sure what it meant, until a few years later I learned how infra-red works. I hadn’t known it when I had the dream, at least not consciously. Infra-red vision works by detecting heat; it sees where life is, and that shows up as light. Life is light. “In Him was life, and that life was the light of humankind.” I gradually realized that this dream was about seeing with the eyes of faith, seeing what is already fully here but not visible without faith vision.

The life of God is here already, full, vibrant, but we need faith vision to see it. In Christ, we have been given that vision, to see 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 looks like complete darkness is in fact a beautiful night in a wonderful city – we might even say a city of blinding lights– lit by the Light of the World.

12-20-21 - The Real Beginning

You can listen to this reflection here.

Friday night we will celebrate the beginning of Jesus’ earthly life, with candles and carols and pageants. And then on Sunday, those who venture to church will be invited to contemplate the real beginning of Jesus’ life – which, John’s Gospel tells us, happened before time began.

Yes, next Sunday is the first Sunday in the (12-day! don’t kick your tree to the curb yet!)) season of Christmas. As always the gospel reading appointed is this passage that opens John’s Gospel. Where Luke and Matthew begin their gospel 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. Deep, 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 more questions than answers. Let’s just hold this thought as we make our own journey to the manger this week: that the One whose birth we celebrate was the One who gave birth to us.

12-17-21 - Mary the Revolutionary

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

Mary of Nazareth is often depicted in art as quiet and pensive, her gaze downcast. Perhaps some artists thought that conveyed her deep devotion, and then it became a convention, like associating her with the color blue. If I were to draw a picture of Mary, her face would be upturned, her gaze focused toward heaven, and her expression fierce and energized.

This Mary portrayed in the Gospels is not “round yon virgin tender and mild.” (I know, I’m butchering the lyrics – it’s the holy infant who’s tender and mild, and love’s pure light that’s “round” her... but this was my impression as a child.) 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, of power, of 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 – indeed, I would assert, out of any of the Christian story. These Advent those themes continue to ring loudly, as we face such crises and divisions in the world and at home. It is also impossible to take 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, as Luke’s gospel shows us. 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’ve never thought of Mary as a heroine – but I’m seeing her anew. I’m heeding her call to justice, only partially achieved 2000 years later. Every time we stand with her and bring justice into being, we join her song and make it truer. (Here is a rousing hymnic version of the Magnificat).

In the fullness of time, this is the song all the universe will sing, as God's justice comes to all at last.

12-16-21 - Magnified

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

There are moments when we are filled with gratitude and grace, aware that God is real and has acted in our lives. Those are the times when our spirits swell and words of praise burst forth from us. One of the biggest such moments in human history may have been Mary’s, when Elizabeth delivered confirmation 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 the words she may have said, 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.

The word “magnified” here puzzles me. I think of magnifying as something 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 magnified Mary’s spirit, expanded it, filled it.

Sometimes our spirits feel very small and pinched, like a tire without air. We need that breath of life that comes from realizing – again – how very great God is, and how very near God’s love is; to refill our spirits and make them bigger than they were. Not for nothing are the words "pneuma," or spirit, and "pneumatic" related.

Events can happen which 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.

12-15-21 - Believing

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

I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted from trying to “do ministry,” especially at this time of year. Getting Christmas together for two churches, not to mention myself. Writing sermons and press releases, posting events and hosting meetings. Seeking discernment. The list is endless.

And all God really wants from me, and from you, is that we believe. That we believe his promises. That we rely on her power. That we trust their presence and goodness and gifts.

One of the most powerful parts of the story of Mary and Elizabeth’s encounter that we explore 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 the things 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 that promise. 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 particular ministry, 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. If you do feel a nudging from the Spirit toward some ministry or expression of your gifts, start to explore that; ask others what they think; take one step and then another and see where you end up. As they say, it's easier to steer a car when it's moving.

When we don’t really believe that God will do what God has promised, God cannot work through us. 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 become the means through which God brings his promises to fulfillment. Blessed are we.

12-14-21 - The Kick Felt Round the World

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

What must it have been like for a post-menopausal woman to be pregnant for the first time? Perhaps now, reproductive technology being what it is, some women have experienced that. But in the hill country of Judea in the waning days of 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, and 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 too 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 praises the Holy One and confirms 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 us to consider what new life might be stirring inside us, 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 better how to make that room. Partly it means 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 feel ourselves filled with the Holy Spirit? Give voice with a loud cry and proclaim your blessedness!

12-13-21 - 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. (My own churches have had the readings out of lectionary sequence, but more chronologically.) Back we go to Galilee, or rather to Judea, where young Mary has gone “with haste” to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Having received the rather alarming news of her impending pregnancy by the power of the Holy Spirit, Mary 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 injustice do you wish you could set right?
What person or people do you feel called to encourage and support?

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.

12-10-21 - Advance Man

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

He wore skins and lived off the grid. Way off, deep in the wilderness. He ate locusts, washing them down with wild honey. He was a freak show – and a holy man. Crowds of people came out of the city to find him and hear his often harsh message: “Repent! God is coming! Quit whining and return to the ways of your Creator.”

They listened, they responded and went into the River Jordan in droves. They wondered if he was the prophet Elijah or even the long-awaited Messiah. They wanted to worship him. But that’s where he drew the line: “Listen, I’m not the one you’re looking for. I’m just the advance man for a much bigger show. The opening act.”

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals.”

Even after Jesus began his public ministry receiving John’s baptism, after Jesus began to draw away the crowds and even some of John’s disciples, there were some who sought John. I imagine his message was easier to swallow, in many ways. "Stop sinning and start living righteously." Good and bad, black and white, not like Jesus' elliptical stories and counter-intuitive teachings that made no sense. John was simpler.

It can still be tempting to focus on the servants of God when they are really holy, fully devoted to loving and serving God; to confuse worshiper and worshiped. Clergy are taught to be wary of congregants who project onto them qualities they want to see rather than the real, flawed human leader in front of them. Leaders of real holiness have the humility to know their function is to help lead people into relationship with Christ.

And when people are in a relationship with Jesus, they can go beyond the simplicity of “repent” and “be a better person.” They become ready to dwell in the both/and world of the father’s love for the sinner, the sister’s laying aside her needs for her family, the cheating tax collector becoming a great philanthropist, the slave trader becoming a forgiven abolitionist.

John knew who he was, and who he wasn’t, and that makes him one of the greatest saints in history. And yet Jesus said, “The one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” John got to usher people to the gates of the Kingdom; we get to live there.

12-9-21 - 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? Well, not when we let John the Baptizer 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.

That doesn’t sound like such good news to me – the ax, the winnowing fork, the unquenchable fire. I prefer my fires contained in a candle or crackling merrily in a fireplace. And unquenchable fire? Isn’t that an image of eternal damnation?
Yet fire is also 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. And then 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.

I once had a prayer experience in which I fervently asked the Spirit to “set my heart on fire with love for you.” A good and holy prayer, isn’t it? 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 once heard a story that describes 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 to open ourselves to 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 God 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 that the world sees?

12-8-21 - Power

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

Every day seems to bring a fresh outrage, reports of words or actions by people in authority that demean others or diminish their civil rights. From policemen shooting unarmed citizens, to hyper-wealthy financiers and huge corporations using legal loopholes to avoid paying their share of taxes, to Christian leaders using the rhetoric of hatred and violence, 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 to abuses of power 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 anyone with a Christian conscience. We need to stand against distortions 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 who cause my blood pressure to rise 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 changes could come about if we wielded the only weapon we’re given: the spiritual power in the name of Jesus to transform even the coldest heart. My Facebook feed is going to inspire an awful lot of praying!

12-7-21 - 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 I 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. In fact, I look forward to one day getting some of my mother’s stuff! (Happily, she’s still enjoying it at 96…) And yet I’m also burdened by it, and deeply 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 we try the incremental approach. Maybe we figure out some 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? (Or buy a gift for a youth in foster care as part of my church’s Giving Tree… click here for the list.) What if we make an equivalent donation each time we buy something for ourselves that is not strictly needed? 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 I suspect linking our accumulation to giving would help us release a lot more.

Am I trying 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.

12-6-21 - Holy Ranting

You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here. Scroll down for info about an upcoming online Advent Retreat this Saturday.

Today is St. Nicholas Day – a day of cheerful giving in the tradition of the great Bishop of Myra. Yet, though he was known for generosity, lending his name to the jolly figure we now know as Santa Claus, St. Nicholas could be fierce and combative when he felt Christian belief was being attacked. One of the many legends about him has him slapping the Egyptian theologian Arius in the face at the Council of Nicea over whether or not Jesus the Son was the equal of God the Father. (The Council eventually came down on the side of the full equality of all three persons of the Trinity, and Arius has gone down in history as a heretic…)

Old Nicholas, like anyone with a social media account today, was no stranger to 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 – yet 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. That is our mission, transformation in Christ’s love.

Advent Spa for the Spirit - Saturday, December 11

Taking the Advent theme of awakening, we'll explore how we can wake to the still voice in our own spirits, to the lives of others, and to the Life of God all around us.
We'll gather on Zoom at 9 and be done around noon. You can register here - more information and the link will be sent. Please invite others who may like to come.

12-3-21 - Another Song of Zechariah

Today we turn from Sunday's gospel to the story of two elders whom God invited into our story of Incarnation, Zechariah and Elizabeth, the aged parents of John the Baptist. This imagined monologue is based on Luke 1:5-25, 57-66. You can listen to this reflection here.

…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.”

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 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 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 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 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.

Mercy not only for sin; mercy that brings new life into being, as the dawn brings forth a new day… Mercy that makes whole.

Have I been made silent to receive that gift of peace?