Water Daily: August 2022

9-1-22 - Giving It All

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

I have heard some suggest that Jesus “preferred” the poor. That’s not what the Gospel record shows. Jesus had great love for people who were poor, partly because others ignored them, but we also see him interact affectionately with many prosperous folks, even as he invites them to loosen their grip on their resources. He didn’t demand poverty of everyone – but it seems he did of those who wished to go beyond “friend” or “follower” to “disciple.”

“So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions."

Maybe I'm not a disciple yet. I’m on the slow road to giving it all away, as are most people I know. Do we count as wealthy? You bet. We like to compare ourselves to people with more money; looks like we’re just getting by. But even the poor in America are richer than 85% of people in the world, many of whom try to live on less than $1 a day. You do the math.

To some of the wealthy people Jesus interacted with he said, “Give it all.” To others, he didn’t. Zacchaeus in the flush of conversion offers to give half his net worth to the poor; Jesus doesn’t say, “What about the other half?” When Jesus talks about how hard it is for the rich to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, he may be saying it’s impossible – or simply noting that people of means often put their security in their accumulated wealth rather than in God. If you can walk the fine line of having a lot of resources and not relying on them, then you might have the freedom to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.

God wants us to trust in God’s provision, not in our own resources or strategies. The expression, “God helps those who help themselves” is not in the Bible, and is contrary to the spirit of the Good News Jesus preached. Jesus urged radical openness to the grace of God and radical generosity to the poor in wallet. If everyone viewed every child as a precious gift of God, there might be fewer living on garbage heaps.

So, how do we respond, if we’re not ready to give it all away? Today, maybe we begin with gratitude for the resources we have. Name a few, write them down. If you feel a tug of remorse, offer repentance, not because of your resources, but for clinging to them. Have you felt called to share what you have, and didn’t? Name it.

The best way to get better at giving it away is to practice giving it away, a lot. Increase your giving to your church. Sign up for a few more monthly automatic gifts to organizations you believe in. It starts with “Yes, Jesus. I want to follow you. This is what I can give today.” If we truly walk with Him, “what I can give today” will grow and grow. So will we.

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8-31-22 - Counting the Cost

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

What does it cost you to publicly identify as a Christ-follower? Does it cause a problem with your job? Your family? Your social circle? Do people think you’re foolish? For most Western Christians, the biggest hurdle to going deeper as disciples of Jesus is to our time and priorities.

In other parts of the world being a Christian can cost you your life or your basic relationships. I once read about a Syrian convert to Christianity who was ostracized by his Muslim family for becoming too “Western,” even surviving a murder attempt by an uncle, and by the Christians he met as being too “Muslim.” Even people in this country can give offense to their own families and religious traditions when they convert, or be ridiculed and minimized.

Following Jesus was quite dangerous for his immediate disciples. Terrorized by the occupying Romans and oppressed by the temple leadership, the average citizen of Jesus’ place and time did well to keep his head low and stay out of trouble. Leaving your livelihood and family to publicly identify with an itinerant teacher who drew a fair amount of attention, much of it suspicious – this was not a recipe for a quiet life. Those who affiliated with Jesus were risking their comfort, work, family relationships – and often their lives. Hence, in his pep talk to would-be disciples, after telling them how radically they need to reorder their priorities if they’re going to follow him, Jesus gives an example:

“For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, saying, `This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.'”

Maybe for us relationship is a better analogy than architecture. What if we translated Jesus’ example: "Who of you, intending to commit to a relationship, does not first sit down and assess feelings, chemistry, compatibility, to see whether there’s enough to engage it? Otherwise, when you’ve told all your friends 'This is the one!' and then you break up, all who see it will begin to ridicule you, saying, 'They started hot, but sure flickered out in a hurry!'"

Fact is, few people I know have a big conversion, start following Christ and keep going. Many of us come on strong, get distracted or disappointed, wander off, wander back, get complacent again, often for years or decades. Then at some point we stop wandering away – we start to move closer, into knowing and being known. Our priorities of how we spend our time, money and love shift, open up. We keep choosing, coming closer. Maybe if we’d sat down and counted the cost, we wouldn’t have done it – but now, whatever cost there is, doesn’t seem like a cost at all. More like a gift.

What are the things that pull you away from God-life?
Can you offer those to God and ask the Spirit to help you re-order what counts?
Do you want to make this relationship more central in your life? What would that look like?

Know that there is a price, often a hidden one…. and that the reward is worth more than your life.

8-30-22 - Cross Purposes

You can listen to this reflection here.

This Sunday’s gospel passage begins, "Now large crowds were travelling with him… " I wonder how large the crowds were when Jesus was done talking. Was he trying to cull out the faddists and thrill-seekers with his talk of “hating your mother and father,” and “carrying your cross?”
“Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”

Talking about “carrying your cross” to subjects in a Roman colony might just do it – the cross was a brutal and terrifying imperial instrument of execution. I can imagine a few people in that crowd paused, let themselves fall back to the margins, and slunk off home.

I might have been one of them. If we interpret “carry the cross” as “embrace your suffering,” as some have done, I won’t rush forward to sign up. But I don’t believe God desires suffering for his beloved, despite passages in the bible that suggest it can be part of God’s plan. I believe God shows up in the midst of suffering that comes our way from other sources; that God’s power and love can redeem and transform it into an opportunity for healing and growth.

How else might we interpret “carry your cross?” One way might be, "Take up your ministry, commit yourself to your part within the whole of God’s mission of restoration and reconciliation." The way each of us is called to participate in God’s mission is a product of our gifts, our passions and our circumstances – and the leading of the Holy Spirit. It is not something we undertake alone. We undertake it with the second half of that imperative, “and follow me.” As we become people of purpose following Christ, using our gifts, filled and guided by the Holy Spirit, we find ourselves more focused and peaceful.

The fullness of Jesus’ ministry involved suffering on the cross. Because he did, we don’t have to. We may be asked to sacrifice our resources, our prerogatives, our agenda; we might even encounter resistance and suffering, but not because suffering is redemptive – because passionate engagement in God’s mission transforms us and the world.

What do you see as one of your ministries as a Christ-follower? Where do your gifts, passions and circumstances intersect? List some of your gifts and passions, and think through your circumstances: where do you live, what do you do, who do you live with, who do you live around? That's important data.

Do you feel asked to sacrifice, “lay down,” any of your privileges, preferences or resources to make space for others? To alleviate suffering for other people? Have a conversation with Jesus about the answers you arrive at.

Finding our way into God’s mission is a lifetime vocation. At different times in our lives we’re called to live out our mission in different ways. Where will you “carry the cross” today?

8-29-22 - Family Values

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

In our current culture, the most benign-seeming things can become controversial, and nothing so much as family. The term “family values” is often associated with conservative Christian groups and their positions on social issues. More liberal elements in society redefine the term "family" beyond biological kin to include those we choose to love, be they adoptive children or same-gendered partners.

Jesus had something to say about family values too, but I doubt our arguments about family would have interested him much. He told his followers to leave the whole concept behind and focus on making his Gospel of forgiveness and freedom known to the world: Now large crowds were travelling with him; and he turned and said to them, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

Did Jesus really say that? Well, this was the man who, when told that his mother and brothers wanted to see him, said, “Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”(Mt 12:50) This is the man whose followers left their homes and families to travel with him, checking in now and then, but committing themselves to a bigger, messier, non-biological family.

Jesus’ teaching radically undermines how human nature and culture lead us to think and act. Our earthly families can be great blessings – and they are among the “things that are passing away.” In the perspective of eternity, they pale in importance to our membership in the family of God. We are invited to walk a fine line in loving and nurturing our human families and not letting our love for them distract us from cultivating our relationship with God and God's people.

That means prizing our family members as gifts from God given in us trust to nurture and help grow, not to possess or cling to. We don’t have to love our families less – we are invited to love our mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters and brothers in the household of God more. Then we are able to be even more loving to those in our human families.

Today, let’s give thanks for our families of origin – the gifts the challenges, the truth.
If your experience of family is painful, can you invite the living water of healing into those wounds?
Then reflect on who you’ve come to know and love in your “God-family” –grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins in the faith. Who comes to mind?
What has she or he brought to your life?
And who are your “children” in faith – people whom you’ve mentored and supported in their faith life?
Finally, who do you know who could use a new family, whom you might bring into the household of God?

During the pandemic, my congregation has expanded to enfold some Canadians who regularly worship, study, pray and minister with us online. Last week, one of these sisters came to visit us in Southern Maryland, bringing along a friend who also became a sister. They marveled at the warm reception – but that’s how you welcome family. The family of God is ever growing, as we expand our circles of love and healing to include ever more brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews. That’s a lot of birthday cards!

8-26-22 - The "No Rewards" Card

You can listen to this reflection here.

“You’ll get your reward in heaven.” That’s a line I heard a lot growing up. But most of the marketing we encounter is geared toward letting us know the rewards we will get the moment we begin using the product. "Credit cards” are now often called “reward cards.”

I encourage people to get involved in helping other people, usually those who fall into the category Jesus names in this story, “the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind,” those who, due to circumstance of birth or disability, are not fully equipped to provide for themselves. I stress the rewards – the satisfaction of using your gifts to make a difference, the expansion of personal experience, the chance to make new friends, the opportunity to participate in God’s mission of restoration and wholeness.

Jesus had no such gambits. He just said, “You’re not going to be rewarded in this life. You’ll see your pay-off way down the line. Do it anyway.” “But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

I prefer it to be more mutual than this; there is something disempowering about only receiving “services,” not having a chance to give back. But Jesus is not talking about works of charity. He is challenging us to forge relationships with people who have nothing worldly or material to offer us. And notice he doesn’t say anything about dropping off sandwiches – he’s talking about hosting banquets to which we invite those who have nothing to offer us back.

Or do they have more to offer than we realize? Something changes when we stop seeing those who frighten or annoy us as “those people,” or view those in need or debilitated as “victims” or “needy,” and rather as people with assets and talents and gifts to offer. It becomes a lot easier to think about having “them” in “our” space. We enlarge our space to accommodate them. Our reading from Hebrews on Sunday reminds us, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

One day at my church in La Plata, a couple of guys who were homeless came in after church, having been told we had a lot of food at coffee hour. We welcomed them – and the next week, they attended the service and one even became a cross-bearer for a time. At another church, I once welcomed a big, "motorcycle mama," somewhat scary-looking woman, and she ended up helping me cook a parish dinner, teaching me the way chefs chop onions. She joined that church, and later went to seminary. Angels.

The realm of God is one of radical social equality (maybe that’s why so many decline to dwell there). “In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, woman nor man, slave nor free,” Paul wrote into the future. Our superficial differences melt away as we become part of the family of God. And you do meet the most amazing people hanging out with this family.
This “no rewards” card has a surprising number of rewards to offer, right here and now.

8-25-22 - Guest Lists

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

Before Covid, I tried to entertain regularly. I often found myself making mental lists of people I’d like to invite over, people I'd like get to know better, those who have already had me to dinner – and maybe some whom I’d like to invite me back. Sometimes I invite people I think are important, with whom I’d like to become friendly so I feel important. Wrong! says Jesus.

"When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.”

This teaching literally hits us where we live, often in fragmented and stratified communities. Most people see their homes as places of safety and refuge. We might be willing to be challenged outside, and invite the marginalized into our church halls and community centers. But into our homes?

Or is that exactly where we are to live out the Good News? Jesus was always crossing boundaries of difference to bring the Good News, as he did in coming to us in our time and space in the first place. As his followers we also are called to go beyond our zones of familiarity and comfort to reach out to the Other. Sometimes that means going to the unfamiliar, and sometimes welcoming the Other into our own spaces.

What kind of “Other” most scares or bothers you? (think age/ethnicity/profession/style…)
In prayer, can you imagine inviting one of those people into your home, to sit at your table? This is a way we can pray for and about people – in our imaginations.
What would you serve? Try to imagine this, really feel what you would be feeling.
What might you say? What might your guest say? Who else might be around that table?

Inviting strangers or people we find strange into our homes might be a stretch for most of us; it is for me. Perhaps we could start by inviting someone we consider “other” to breakfast or lunch in a restaurant – start with the encounter itself, deal with the discomfort of possibly disconnected conversation. If we remember that Jesus is also at that table with us, we might find it an adventure that opens up possibilities in us. After all, the One who tells us to cross that boundary in the first place isn’t going to skip the party himself.

8-24-22 - Perfect At Humility

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

It’s funny to think of humility as a virtue at which to excel – if we truly succeed, no one will know. “Mirror, mirror on the wall – who’s the humblest of them all?”

But that’s the upside-down-ness of the Life of God – it’s backwards from the way we naturally think. Jesus said, “For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” Humility is to be a characteristic of those who follow Christ. It’s worth spending a little time on. Let’s start with what it is not:

Humility is not humiliation, which is exposure of our worst attributes or actions. Enduring humiliation can sometimes lead us into true humility, but it’s a twisty, undesirable road that can as easily lead to despair and destructiveness.

Humility is not self-abasement or self-denigration. Talking about how awful and unworthy we are is, spiritually speaking, pride; pride being that tendency to equate ourselves with God. When we run ourselves down, we are setting ourselves up as judges of God’s work. That’s pride. Yes, we can judge our actions, and repent of destructive words, thoughts, behaviors – but to judge ourselves innately less worthy than another is as prideful as it is to say we are innately more worthy than another.

We might best define humility as the art of seeing ourselves clearly, seeing God clearly, and knowing the difference. Humility includes rejoicing in our gifts and talents, in who we are as unique creatures made in God’s image. It includes enjoying being the best at what we do – and delighting in that as a gift from God, a gift enhanced by God’s life moving in us. (For a powerful reminder of this, watch the first 1.44 minutes of this clip from the movie Chariots of Fire…)

Humility helps us to love ourselves despite our shortcomings, which creates space for those shortcomings to be transformed. Humility helps us love other people better because we see them as neither more nor less important than we are. Humility helps us invite the love and grace of God into those parts of ourselves that are not as we wish, so that we become transformed from the inside.

What do you love most about yourself? What about yourself do you most wish to be transformed?

God is in the transformation business. You have put yourself in God’s hands. Start giving thanks now for the beauty that shines through you – the beauty of perfect Love mixed with the beauty of Love’s unique creation that is you. Alleluia!

8-23-22 - Seating Order

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

It can be amusing at clergy gatherings watching people try to work their way toward the bishops, angling for seats next to them at meals. Access to the “important people” is often restricted. So imagine, in my first week in a new diocese I attended a conference and found myself sitting with my new bishop at both lunch and dinner. I didn’t have that much impressive conversation in me!

Jesus might have suggested I go to the other end of the table. He had a few things to say to those Pharisees who were observing his table manners so closely. In fact, he turned the tables on them: “If you’re invited to a wedding, go sit at the place furthest away from the action, where you feel the least honored. You might get upgraded, maybe to a table with the bride or groom’s family. But if you pick out that better seat, look out. You just might be asked to move.”

“For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Some people go through life expecting to be seated in the “lesser” seats – and they tend to be a lot happier than those of us who think we know what seats we merit. It can be a great spiritual practice, to walk into any event or party and just end up where and with whom we end up, not trying to plan or maneuver it. Sometimes, though, when I am seated with strangers at a wedding, I find it challenging; instead of a delightful surprise, I just find I’m sitting with people I find uninteresting. And that just means I didn’t take the spiritual practice far enough. What I should have done was to seek Christ in them.

It doesn’t really matter where we sit, or with whom, as long as Jesus is at the table. And he’s already sent us an open invitation. So anytime you don’t know where else you’re going to land, go to his house. Every seat there is perfect.

8-22-22 - Investigating Jesus

You can listen to this reflection here.

Being invited to dinner is one of the great pleasures in life, in my opinion. But would Jesus agree? So often we read in the gospels about him going to dinner at the home of a Pharisee and being placed under a microscope. The Pharisees, teachers of the Law and respected religious leaders, were in equal measure fascinated with Jesus and alarmed by him. They seemed always to be observing and interrogating him, even at dinner.

As we will see this week, Jesus returned the favor, watching and commenting on their actions as well. Today let’s stay with the introduction to this story:

On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely…

I wish people nowadays were scrutinizing Jesus this closely. Many have no interest in getting to know him – and maybe that's because we haven't made the introductions. What if we were to invite people we know to investigate Jesus – to read about him in the Gospels, to invite communication with him in prayer, to examine the work done in his name, to hang out with those who follow his Way of Love?

Of course, it's also up to us to represent him well. People will likely want to know more if we demonstrate the sweetness of being a Christ-follower more than the judgmentalism of the Pharisee. Christians – at least in the United States in these times – are more known for judging than for loving, and that’s a huge loss. As one evangelical leader, John Maxwell, puts it, “Christ-followers should stop correcting and start connecting.”

And maybe we need to investigate Jesus again for ourselves. Many of us grew up in church, inherited faith from our parents, have heard the stories thousands of times – but when did we last read the gospels all the way through? When did we last make a study of Jesus’ encounters with people, or of his healings, or his parables? Many of us need to fall in love with Jesus again – or for the first time. The best way to do that is to get to know him for ourselves.

Let’s metaphorically invite Jesus to dinner this week – or breakfast. Let’s commit to reading a story about him every day, and make a note of what we observe, as though he were right in front of us. I think we’ll be surprised by something he says or does that is outside our expectations. We don’t have to scrutinize, but we can certainly get to know him better. Then we’ll be better placed to introduce him to our friends and neighbors.

8-19-22 - The Next Healing

You can listen to this reflection here.

in this week’s gospel story, we see not only that Jesus could heal infirmity with a word of faith; we see him establish healing as an activity worthy of the Sabbath, God’s holy day. Healing is what God does.

“And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?” When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.

It’s great that the crowd rejoiced at what Jesus was doing. I bet he wanted even more for them to start doing what he was doing, to believe in the power of God released into the world. He wanted them – and us – to engage in healing as a principal sign of the reign of God unleashed.

Maybe if we saw such immediate outcomes to our prayers, we would do a lot more praying. On the other hand, If we engaged more often in healing prayer, we might see many more immediate outcomes. Happily, God’s life is a both/and kind of place. We are invited to pray at all times and in all places. And I can testify that the more we approach infirmity with prayer, the more often and quickly we see healing.

If I fall or get hurt, I immediately invoke the presence of Jesus to be with me, to release his healing love already in me. When I burn or ding myself, I invite God to release healing power and love in my body, thanking all the cells for their healing work – and I often see things heal faster without scarring. When I practice my faith on relatively small things, it’s stronger when I need to pray for bigger, scarier things, inviting God to release peace and power into a huge complex of anxiety or illness.

So it is today, in any and every place where the Spirit of God is present through the Body of Christ – meaning, us, who are Christ’s hands and feet and eyes and ears and voice of love in the world now. We have been given tremendous power through our access to God in the Spirit. So when we encounter someone afflicted in body, mind or spirit, we don’t have to think, “I’m not the right person.” We can just go, “Oh yeah, I know the right person. And he’ll show up any time I invoke his name. Come, Lord Jesus.” That is the ancient prayer, “Maranatha.” Come, Lord Jesus.

Today, keep inviting God to release healing love and power in you, where you’re hurting. And keep praising. And add a third thing: ask God to show you today someone for whom you are to pray, for whom you are to invite Jesus to release healing grace. It might be a person close to you, or someone you see on the news. You don’t have to offer to pray with them, though that’s always great. You can simply say, “Come Lord Jesus – here’s someone who needs you. Be here. Release your power and love in him, in her.”

God is with us seven days a week, 24 hours a day, at all times and in all places. God cannot be contained or constrained. The more we pray, the more God’s life breaks out and restores the world. Every day.

8-18-22 - Honoring the Sabbath

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

If someone with a chronic disability became instantly healed during a worship service in my church, I would be thrilled and amazed. Not so much the leader of the synagogue in which Jesus healed the woman crippled for eighteen years:

When Jesus laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day.”

It’s interesting that he addresses the crowd rather than Jesus directly. Is he genuinely concerned about a spiritual matter, or trying to get back the attention that has pivoted to his famous guest preacher? Or is he so frightened by this show of power that he can only retreat into the rules and regulations on which he has built his religion? Whatever his motives, he seems spectacularly unable to see the Life unfolding right in front of him.

This is a classic case of being correct and still wildly wrong. This leader is right that the Sabbath, ordained by God as a day set apart for worship, rest and recreation, is to be honored. He is completely wrong in defining healing as dishonoring “work.” As Jesus points out, we continue to care for and feed our families and animals on the Sabbath – because the Sabbath was made to celebrate life. Anything that increases life and expands our experience of God-Life is a suitable Sabbath activity. The passage from Isaiah appointed for Sunday defines “trampling the sabbath” as “pursuing your own interests.” Giving life, health, freedom, joy, peace, love to others honors God, and therefore honors God’s holy day.

The Sabbath is one of God’s greatest gifts to us, and we ignore it at our own peril – and often our ill health. When each day of the week looks the same as any other, we don’t recharge or relax in a meaningful way. The toxins of stress build up and poison our interactions with the world and those closest to us. Our ability to be creative and to see solutions to problems grows stunted. We need the Sabbath, and the world needs it – and I dare say God needs us refreshed and ready for participating in God’s mission.

Every day is a good day for healing. Every day is a good day to set the captives free. Every day is a good day to release the power of God to bring Life into the world. Where do you need to see that Life released today?

8-17-22 - The Posture of Praise

You can listen to this reflection here.

Have you ever tried to praise God when you’re hunched over or miserable? Of all the types of prayer, praise is one of the most embodied. When we are filled with the Spirit of God, excited about what God is doing or has done in, through, or for us, we naturally straighten our spines, even extend our arms, open our hands. Our bodies participate with our minds and our spirits in the act of praise.

Praise is the first thing the crippled woman in our story did, as the effect of Jesus’ declaring healing on her took hold:

Immediately she stood up straight and began praising God.

Maybe she was exalting at being able to stand up straight for the first time in eighteen years; she was also participating in the prayer, inviting the Spirit to bless her into wholeness. Praise is one of the best conductors for healing power there is. When we’re praising God, it’s hard to focus on how sick, scared or miserable we are. Those things may still be there, but they’re not where we’re putting our energy.

Maybe praise releases endorphins – spiritual, if not chemical. Really exuberant praise, as at rock and roll shows or ball games, probably releases the chemical kind. When we release ourselves in praise, it also spreads good feelings to the people around us. There’s no downside to praising the One who made us, who heals us, who loves us.

Praise is a choice, an act of will. We choose to praise God for everything we know and believe about God, no matter what else is going on in our lives. It’s an act of will that opens us up to the power that makes us whole. Most of us need to practice praise; it doesn't come naturally. It can be hard to do with words, because we run out of them quickly. And it can feel funny to just repeat phrases like “God, I praise you. I honor you. I exalt you….” We don’t talk to people in our lives that way – we don’t have to be so stiff with God either. We can let our spirit take the lead.

Try praising God without words. Maybe sing a hymn or song you love, or bring up an image of beauty or love in your mind and thank God for that. And if something anxious or negative intrudes, gently say, “Not now. It’s praise time…”

We might invite our bodies to take the lead, opening ourselves into a posture of praise: sit or stand up straight; fill your lungs with deep, long, cleansing breaths; ask your arms how they would like to praise their maker. We might dance, or walk. If movement is difficult, we move what we can, and make that a prayer for restored mobility.

What if our posture was the first thing we address when we’re feeling stressed or sad or anxious? Remember that woman, bent over for so long, suddenly able to stand straight. She can be our model for the posture of praise.

8-16-22 - You Are Set Free

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

Yesterday I invited us to think about an area in life in which we feel stuck, a condition or limitation we just live with because we don’t think anything can be done - which is like saying that thing is more powerful than God. Most likely the woman in our story, bent over with a damaged spine for eighteen years, thought that was her future. The gospel writer says she was afflicted by an evil spirit. She may have been told it was the result of sin. In some Christian circles she might be told her suffering was a way of coming closer to God, an honor, a test, a blessing even.

Jesus told her, “Here’s something we can heal.” When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God.

It is his first instinct – “Let's take care of that.” He doesn’t deliberate and wonder if it’s “God’s will." He knows illness and disability are not God’s intention for us. We don't always see healing as immediately as in this story; often it’s more gradual. But we can trust that it is God’s will that we be whole, even when we do not see that wholeness fully manifest in this life; bodies and minds do sustain damage. Yet we see it more when often as we trust that wholeness is the will of our God whom we call One and Perfect. How could such a One desire less than wholeness for us?

Freedom is also God’s desire for us, and for this world. Jesus said he had come to proclaim release to the captives. Anytime we’re unsure of God’s will in a given situation, we can ask where we sense the most freedom and pray toward that. This does not mean we don’t honor commitments to relationships or jobs, which can at times feel like they impinge on our personal freedom. It means we look for where God is inviting us to be free within those commitments. If our workday is confining, we plan in times for a restorative walk or rest. If church feels like a burden, we make sure there are some activities in which we are just nurtured, not working. If our movement is constricted by disability, we pray for healing and restoration.

What came up when you thought about something you’re stuck with that God can release you from? Bring that to Jesus in prayer. Invite the power and love that made the universe to be released in you, in your body, your mind, your spirit. And expect that the living water of God is flowing and bringing new life to you wherever you need it most.

“For freedom, God has made us free,” Paul reminded the Galatians (5:1). We honor God when we accept that gift every time God offers it.

8-15-22 - Perseverance

You can listen to this reflection here.

How long have you lived with an ailment or a limitation? A destructive habit? A job that doesn’t fit your gifts? This week we meet a woman who was bent over, crippled for 18 years. And then she met Jesus.

Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight.

Eighteen years. That’s a long time not to be able to look anyone in the eye, to have to strain to see the sky. That’s a long time to be the object of pity and whispers, maybe even scorn. A long time to live in pain, for scoliosis, if that’s what she had, is painful, and when your spine is so radically out of alignment, it puts pressure on other muscles in the body.

But she persevered. As this week’s gospel passage tells the story, she doesn’t even ask for healing. She just shows up for worship on the sabbath, when Jesus happens to be teaching. It may not even have occurred to her that she could be free of her disabling and incurable condition.

Perseverance is a virtue – that sometimes can get in the way of our faith. We are invited as Christ followers to believe that there is nothing in this world that we need to be stuck with. Nothing is beyond the reach of God’s transforming power – except a human heart firmly turned away from him. God’s power can set us free from illness, infirmity, even injustice as we exercise our faith and invite God to release that healing stream in us. We may not always live long enough to see the full healing, especially of societal ills, but imagine how much healing we do see as we believe and pray.

As we begin this week, bring into the foreground of your awareness something you feel you are truly stuck with, from which you’d like to be freed. Just hold it in your mind’s eye, and imagine what you would look or feel or act like released from that condition. That visioning is itself an act of prayer.

Let’s see what the Holy Spirit does with that as we continue in conversation with God about it. I believe something will break open – maybe our hearts, for a start.

8-12-22 - The Cloud

You can listen to this reflection here.

I once saw a cartoon which showed a little boy at a funeral asking his mother, “Mommy, is Pop-Pop in the cloud now?” As we end this week, let’s touch on one more reading for Sunday, the great passage from the New Testament letter to the Hebrews. It explicates the writer’s definition of faith: “… the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” The passage lists a host of God’s people who persevered in faith despite persecutions and trials, never seeing the fruit for which they worked. The writer suggests these departed heroes and heroines of dogged faithfulness constitute a cloud of encouragers to inspire us to righteousness and Christ-centered living:

...since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

Faith can sometimes feel like heavy work in the face of the world’s ills and evidence of human destructiveness – but remember, faith is not a solitary undertaking. Faith is to be practiced in community, and our community stretches beyond what we can see, even beyond the breathing. Episcopalians, with other Christian traditions, affirm the communion of saints, those alive today and those who have gone before us. How might it strengthen your faith to cultivate a greater awareness of that cloud of witnesses surrounding you, upholding you in prayer?

I want to be clear – the cloud of witnesses is not about ghosts. Whatever ghosts may be, they seem to be spirits not yet at rest. The spirits to which the writer to the Hebrews refers are saints in light, existing in the presence of God, emanating love, not direct communications with the living. When we get messages from the heavenly places, it is from the Holy Spirit. If we think a person is communicating with us from beyond, that is a different matter, and one I do not consider spiritually healthy for Christ-followers to engage with. The Spirit of Christ is the only spirit we need.

When we undertake God’s mission in the face of uncertainty, and when we face setbacks in ministry, we can call to mind that cloud of witnesses and set our successes and failures in the light they shed. We can even, in prayer, invite strength from that holy number, and draw on their store of faith when ours feels insufficient. God invites us to believe the impossible; the communion of saints helps us do that.

Sometimes, when facing a church with way too many empty seats, I remember there are others worshiping with us, filling the air and every available place, our space thick with their faithfulness and love. That is a “cloud-based resource” at the highest level, and it’s absolutely free, forever and ever.

8-11-22 - Wild Grapes

You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's reading from the Hebrew Bible is here.

We have yards and yards of wild raspberries growing by one of my churches (actually, they’re wine berries, I’ve learned, an invasive but delicious cousin to the raspberry). It’s always a delight to come upon fruits or vegetables growing wild. Often they seem all the sweeter for being unexpected. So why would God have a problem with wild grapes?

And now, inhabitants of Jerusalem and people of Judah, judge between me and my vineyard. What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it? When I expected it to yield grapes, why did it yield wild grapes?

The prophet Isaiah is speaking for God – that’s what prophets do, deliver a message they believe God has entrusted them to carry. He was writing in a time of impending crisis for Israel, as attempts to play off competing empires against each other were failing and yet another foreign occupation loomed. Jerusalem was threatened; Israel’s way of life and faith was in peril. Many of the prophetic writings attempt to explain how these dire times had come to pass. The prophets usually located the cause in Israel’s unfaithfulness to the One God; the charges most commonly cited were failure to honor the Law, failure to exercise economic justice and care for the poor and vulnerable, and diluting the religious tradition by mingling with people of other religions.

This is what is meant by “wild grapes,” not simply free-spirited non-conformists, but people and communities who have turned from God’s way. Isaiah asserts that the community has now turned so fully away, it stands in opposition to God – “Judge between me and my vineyard.” The God he poetically reveals is having a moment of frustration – “What more was there to do that I have not done?” and lament - “Why did it yield wild grapes?”

This is certainly a very human depiction of God, yet it invites us to imagine a process by which the incarnation of the Son came to be. Was it the plan from the “beginning of the ages,” as some scriptures say, or was it a response by a loving vine-grower unwilling to walk away when his crop came up wild? “What more was there to do?” We can imagine the next thought, “I will send my son…”

Jesus later told a parable, a midrash, or new version, of this passage, about a vineyard rented to tenants who abused their relationship with the owner, beat his representatives and finally killed his son. The grapes were still wild in his earthly sojourn. But he knew that was not the way the story ended, that the death of the son was not the last word, that Life would triumph over death, over sin, over despair.

In that Life, which we receive in baptism and renew in holy communion and prayer, we have the capacity to lose our mouth-puckering wildness, to become sweet and juicy, wine to gladden the hearts of those we meet. We can grow on the sides of paths where people will come upon us, maybe even think we’re wild. But we are God’s grapes, bearers of Life.

8-10-22 - The Vineyard

You can listen to this reflection here.

There are few images more evocative of life and fruitfulness, mystery and joy than vineyards. All over the bible we can find vineyards, literal and figurative. For the rest of this week, let’s go to the vineyard depicted in Isaiah – a place of cultivation and care, which yielded a surprising crop:

Let me sing for my beloved my love-song concerning his vineyard:
My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill.
He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines;
he built a watch-tower in the midst of it, and hewed out a wine vat in it;
he expected it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes.

In the gospel passage set for this week, we find Jesus in “scorched earth” mode, literally. He speaks of the fire he has come to bring upon the earth, wishing it were already kindled. We can find precedent for his righteous rage in this prophetic poetry of Isaiah’s, which tells in a few short lines the whole history of God and God’s people. It speaks of this world as a vineyard carefully cultivated by God in a fertile place, cleared and planted, with provisions for protection and wine-processing.

This is how we might see the creation – a beautiful world prepared for us, a place of fertility, with everything provided so that we could thrive and produce good fruit. It even has a watch-tower – an image of God’s vigilant protection from evil of God’s beloved. And this creator is also named as beloved. It’s all set up to enable humankind to produce vats of wonderful, life-giving, joy-inducing wine.

But – there’s always a 'but' in a good story – the choice vines (chosen people?) did not yield cultivated grapes. What grew were not smooth, sweet wine grapes, but wild grapes. Wild grapes might have some virtues, but they’re not reliable. What a great metaphor for what early theologians called original sin – a proclivity toward self-gratification that results in thoughts and actions that do not honor God, neighbor or even our truest selves. God expects us to be sweet grapes, and often we can be wild, destructive.

This is the wrong Jesus came to right, the condition he came to heal, the conversion he came to empower. Because of Jesus, we are not stuck in “wild grape” mode; we can become fruit-bearing, life-bringing grapes. And as we actively participate in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ, we attach ourselves to vines that carry that mission into every place and person in pain and need.

Our story of salvation is the story of God’s restoration of that vineyard. God invites us to be a part of bringing that work to completion, until the Creator’s full intention is reflected in our world. That is work worth raising a glass to.

8-9-22 - Reading the Weather

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

When I need to know how to dress for the day, or whether or not to close my windows, I check a weather app. I can get a detailed forecast 48 hours ahead, or a more general one ten days out. In former times people had other ways of predicting the weather:

He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat’; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?”

Jesus has just spoken of an impending crisis: “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed!” He does not clarify the exact nature of this crisis, but he’s furious that his followers seem unable to discern what is happening. From where we stand, it appears he is referring to his spiritual battle with the forces of evil, and the human structures and systems that allow evil to have its sway. He is on a mission to burn away the chaff of sin, and to release the captives who are bound to it. And the way he will do that, this “baptism with which I am to be baptized,” is his upcoming passion and death.

Jesus did accomplish the redemption of the world on the cross, and confirmed that in his rising to new life on Easter morning. If he has already won our liberation, is there more discernment for us? Do we need to scan signs to predict what is to come? How are we to read this troubling passage?

We live in the “already/not-yet. His work is accomplished yet still being brought to completion. The devil’s days are numbered yet, as we can see, sin and evil are still having a pretty good run. And the means by which God seems to have chosen to engage these final skirmishes is through us. We don’t need to battle evil – but we do need to see it, name it, and call in the spiritual forces of God to overwhelm it.

Paul writes that one of the gifts given to Christ-followers is the ability to discern spirits – to know when evil is present, to know when God is present. We are to pay attention to the clouds darkening our land, the prevailing winds blowing in the world, and to pray all the more when the signs indicate bad weather ahead. We don’t need to shrivel up in a heap when things look bad, or tuck our heads into the sands of our many modes of distraction and avoidance – we can stand firm on the promises of God, the saving work of Christ, our identity as redeemed sinners and saints of the Realm of God.

Evil cannot stand against the name of Jesus. It is our work to invoke his name and his power, early and often.

8-8-22 - Division

You can listen to this reflection here.

Reading the prophets of Israel can feel like witnessing an abusive relationship. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” “Wham! You’ll get what you deserve.” “Oh, but I love you and one day it’ll all be wonderful…” These writings tell the story of a broken relationship between God and God’s chosen people, who seemed incapable of fidelity despite God’s gracious provision and forgiveness. And the way the prophets rendered the words of God (and the way those who later wrote down those words conveyed them) often make God sound like a petty tyrant as well as a thwarted lover.

We get a sense of danger as well as deep disappointment, “Here is what I wanted for you, what I did everything to ensure for you – but you could not stay with me, and now I can’t protect you from the consequences of your choices.” It’s often a bitter message, and I confess as I read both the gospel appointed for this Sunday and the passage from Isaiah, it’s hard not to see these texts through the lens of the deep divisions in our country and world.

Let’s start with the Gospel, which shows Jesus in a dire mood, speaking of fire and division. He has just been telling a parable about being prepared for God’s appearing, and he seems pretty ticked off: “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!”

If division is what Jesus was after, he’d be happy in America at this moment in our history. We are defined by many things other than our divisions, but our fault lines keep getting more pronounced, our positions dug in, fissures widening. This cannot possibly be God’s will for us, can it?

Jesus is the Prince of Peace, as the angel foretold at his conception. He is the source of peace for us, and the power for us to be peacemakers. But let’s not forget: Jesus did come into this world to do battle with the powers of evil – that is the fight he was itching to engage, the fight he wants his followers to join him in. Each time those who might be his disciples capitulate to injustice, tolerate intolerance, benefit from systems rigged in favor of the white and wealthy, fail to love our neighbor as ourselves, we recede from that fight. And every time we make a different choice, an inconvenient or even sacrificial choice, we help usher in the reign of true peace Jesus brought into this world.

How does this scripture sit with you? Where are you being called to draw the line, to pray for the conversion of those who seek only their own good to the harm of others? We are called to stand with Jesus against evil and hate-mongering. That’s a division, if you will, one that can lead us to unity.

8-5-22 - Almost Home

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

Those who follow Christ as Lord, who seek to receive and share his life with the world, are not called to settle. We are to be people on the move; the original name for Christ-followers was “People of the Way.” As a person who has never owned a home, always living in church-owned housing or rentals, I sometimes have to remind myself, “This is not yours. Some day you will have to leave this house.”

The same is true of our life in this world. As we learn to live this way, settling in for the day yet ready to move tomorrow, we’re much more open to the Life with which God wants to fill and surround us. This is a quality the writer of Hebrews ascribes to the heroes of faith he lists – people who are moving toward their promised future in God, aware that they are not yet Home:

They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them.

When I baptize people, I remind them that they now have dual citizenship, passports in this world and in that realm we will enjoy for eternity with God. We already gain access to that land in this life. Choosing to live there intentionally can help us avoid getting too settled in the loves and joys with which we are blessed in this world. The goal of the spiritual life is to learn to hold those people and things and jobs we love, yet hold them lightly, ready to move when called.

Few of us want to consider ourselves strangers and foreigners on the earth, as the magnitude of our global refugee crisis acutely reminds us. But strangers we are to be, on the move, accepting hospitality where offered, getting by where it is not, expecting blessing in the famines as in the feasts. We do not go back to the places – or people – we think of as home; we move forward by faith into the future God has prepared for us.

Whenever I’ve had to leave one beloved house, I’ve found God has prepared an equally delightful home in the next place. But even these charming homes are as nothing compared to the city God has prepared for us. I intend to enjoy every moment of my life here, always remembering it is not mine to keep.

8-4-22 - Greeting God's Promises

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

The writer of Hebrews defines faith for us in a particular way: the assurance of things hoped for; the conviction of things not seen. To illustrate his view he cites various parts of Abraham’s story, as well as a list of other biblical heroines and heroes of faith (read the whole chapter…) What makes these people exemplars of faith is not their “victories” – it is that they believed even though they never saw the full fruit of their longing manifest in their lifetimes. "All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them."

What a beautiful way of conceiving faith: seeing the promises of God in our mind and heart and spirit, and greeting those promises ahead on the road. I'm put in mind of the father of the prodigal son, “But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.” What if we personified the promises of God? Would that help us anticipate them with more hope and faith?

We do get to see and taste the goodness of God right here and now, in many ways. I am struck by how, in every place I move to, God provides a house for me with blessings I could not have anticipated, at a price I can afford. That is a small example that also exemplifies my social privilege, but it is a consistent form of blessing and a huge reminder to me that God is faithful in greater things too.

Our invitation is to believe in God’s promise of Life, here and now and then and later; in God’s promise of peace and provision and presence and power; to believe that God’s reign of justice will emerge, and more quickly as we engage in God’s work of bringing it into being; to believe that refugees will find homes and wars will cease and evildoers be converted and everyone will “sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid.” (Micah 4:1-5) That is God’s great promise.

Just as God regards us from a distance as already fully righteous in Christ, so we are invited to pray and work and believe in God’s promises in the conviction that they are approaching, close enough to call out to on the road: “Hello there! I see you coming, and I can’t wait to see you up close!” These promises are moving toward us all the time – and we can run to them and embrace them and live them.

8-3-22 - All That We Cannot See

You can listen to this reflection here.

The last line of our reading from Genesis and the first in our passage from Hebrews flow so naturally into each other, it is as though they were one text. From “And Abram believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness,” we go right into:

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.

The writer of Hebrews even uses Abraham as Exhibit A of his thesis. He cites Abraham's faithfulness in leaving his homeland and family and setting out with Sarai into the land God had promised him, despite the derision of his clan (“You think there is only one God, and he talks to you?!?”), and he cites Abraham’s believing the preposterous promise of heirs more numerous than the stars in the heavens. Abraham is a pretty mixed bag when it comes to character and choices, but in his fidelity to the One God and the intimacy of that relationship as it is conveyed in Genesis, he is a shining star.

Why is it so hard for us to feel sure about things we only hope for – for, once we receive what we hope for, we no longer need to hope. Why do we waver in our conviction about things we cannot see, cannot prove? We trust in engineers we don’t know, elected officials we hope have our interests at heart, online security, relationships, a whole web of systems and networks we hope will continue to work for us… Why not extend that degree of faith to the God whose Spirit is so often clearly discernible, if never visible?

What often makes it so difficult to trust in what we cannot see is what we do see – evidence of pain and sorrow and the persistence of evil in this world. In the moments when those “realities” overwhelm us, the content of our faith can look like a fairy story told to calm anxious children. That’s why faith is a muscle that must be exercised and practiced and tested. We never know what is around the next corner; we do know that God has been faithful and good throughout our lives, even in the times that were painful.

It comes down to this: our faith in what we cannot see needs to be stronger than our doubt in what we can. We believe, until faith gives way to sight.