You can listen to this reflection here.
The landowner in the story Jesus told about the unfruitful fig tree makes a very harsh assessment about this tree: It is wasting the soil. The response of his gardener is to deal not with the tree, but with the soil: "So he said to the gardener, 'See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?' He replied, 'Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'"
This gardener is a believer in second chances, in improving the conditions in which something (or someone…) can thrive. He does not blame the tree; he does not think it is squandering the very soil in which it sits. He thinks the soil needs some improvement, some aerating, so water and carbon can get to the roots of the tree. And he thinks it needs fertilizing, to add nutrients and catalyze growth.
I am not a biologist, but I am fascinated by the efficiency of eco-systems, whether within the human body or in the natural world. The way limbs and leaves fall and decay, generating nutrients which help bring about new growth in the next season is but one example of organic economy. Nothing is wasted – even waste products.
The same can be true of our lives. In what ways has the “manure” generated in your life functioned to fertilize new growth? Often we don’t want to look at our emotional waste – it’s ugly and smelly and dark, like the biological kind. We’d rather flush it away. But what if we invited God to help us use that matter for growth? What if we asked what use that failed relationship or thwarted professional venture or even trauma could possibly be for our future fruitfulness?
Here I’m venturing into icky territory, but I am fascinated by the uses which medicine is finding for human waste. The careful reintroduction of “cleaned” excrement back into someone’s system can restore the balance of gut biomes, resolve ailments like C.diff and celiac disease, and possibly even cure conditions such as MS. (Here is a compelling and easy to read New Yorker article from a few years back about medical uses of excrement.) I think there is a spiritual analogy here.
This is one purpose for repentance – not to wallow in our “manure,” but to bring into the light things of which we are not proud, to bring healing and redemption into our wounds or failures – and just maybe render them useful to us in the future. Left alone, they just accumulate and decay, building up noxious gases in our psyches. But when we aerate our soil, inviting in light and air, that which seems most useless can become the ground of new growth. We can do this in therapy, in the confessional, or both.
This is true of societal detritus as well as personal. Our attempts to flush away cultural sins such as racism and chronic poverty have not brought healing. We need to reckon with the effects, address the horrors, feel the feelings if we hope to move through the trauma to a new way of being. This is the approach Restorative Justice takes – it can break cycles of vengeance and lead to freedom and new relationships. Maybe learning how to repurpose our waste – compost our failures – can result in the fruit of justice and peace.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Showing posts with label justice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label justice. Show all posts
1-20-25 - Anointed To Proclaim Freedom
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When Jesus began his public ministry, full of the Holy Spirit, his reputation quickly spread as he went from synagogue to synagogue, teaching. And when he came to his home in Nazareth, he showed all his cards. Reading from Isaiah, he sat back and said, “This prophecy is fulfilled in me. Today.” He said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Anointed to bring good news. To those most in need of it – the poor, the captive, the blind, the oppressed. This, he was saying, is what God is up to, has always been up to, is doing among us even now. Today. We who bear the name and life of Christ share in this anointing, whether or not we choose to live it out.
Today we celebrate the life and ministry of one who did not shirk that anointing, but embraced it, gave himself to it even unto death, in the footsteps of his Lord Jesus. Martin Luther King, Jr. knew that the Good News hadn’t gotten around to everyone yet. There were still plenty of poor people who needed to hear it; plenty of people blinded by greed and power and lack of insight; plenty of people still oppressed by injustice and cruelty and the legacy of slavery; plenty of people held captive in systems of racism and white supremacy that hold resources and opportunities for the few – and withhold them from many.
And so he went with his anointing and preached Good News, not only proclaiming release but working tirelessly to bring it about. He worked and proclaimed and wept and dreamed until he was silenced. His dream is not fully realized – the last decade has made that abundantly clear. God’s dream is not yet fully realized in our world. We are invited to use our anointing to help bring it to fullness for all people.
Today read that prophecy of Isaiah that Jesus claimed in the synagogue so long ago, and ask the Spirit to renew this anointing in you, to allow the Spirit to work through you to bring to visible completion the Good News Jesus proclaimed and won for us. Can we open ourselves to God’s dream of wholeness for all of creation, blessing for every child of every race in every place?
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” Today this scripture is fulfilled in our hearing. Join Jesus in making it so.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
When Jesus began his public ministry, full of the Holy Spirit, his reputation quickly spread as he went from synagogue to synagogue, teaching. And when he came to his home in Nazareth, he showed all his cards. Reading from Isaiah, he sat back and said, “This prophecy is fulfilled in me. Today.” He said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Anointed to bring good news. To those most in need of it – the poor, the captive, the blind, the oppressed. This, he was saying, is what God is up to, has always been up to, is doing among us even now. Today. We who bear the name and life of Christ share in this anointing, whether or not we choose to live it out.
Today we celebrate the life and ministry of one who did not shirk that anointing, but embraced it, gave himself to it even unto death, in the footsteps of his Lord Jesus. Martin Luther King, Jr. knew that the Good News hadn’t gotten around to everyone yet. There were still plenty of poor people who needed to hear it; plenty of people blinded by greed and power and lack of insight; plenty of people still oppressed by injustice and cruelty and the legacy of slavery; plenty of people held captive in systems of racism and white supremacy that hold resources and opportunities for the few – and withhold them from many.
And so he went with his anointing and preached Good News, not only proclaiming release but working tirelessly to bring it about. He worked and proclaimed and wept and dreamed until he was silenced. His dream is not fully realized – the last decade has made that abundantly clear. God’s dream is not yet fully realized in our world. We are invited to use our anointing to help bring it to fullness for all people.
Today read that prophecy of Isaiah that Jesus claimed in the synagogue so long ago, and ask the Spirit to renew this anointing in you, to allow the Spirit to work through you to bring to visible completion the Good News Jesus proclaimed and won for us. Can we open ourselves to God’s dream of wholeness for all of creation, blessing for every child of every race in every place?
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” Today this scripture is fulfilled in our hearing. Join Jesus in making it so.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
12-13-24 - This Is Good News?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
"So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people." That’s how Luke ends his reporting on the activities of John the Baptizer. I wonder if John's often harsh clarity (“You brood of vipers!”) sounded like good news to his listeners. Yet they went and told others who also came out to see him. Luke speaks of the crowds around John.
There can be something comforting about hearing the truth, being given a prescription for living in God’s way. But we tend to let those prescriptions lapse – the bible would be about a third of its length if people actually listened to God’s word and followed it. And what about us? We’re hardly a crowd in many churches, yet we show up faithfully. Are we listening faithfully? What might John say to us if we were gathered on that riverbank? It could sound like this:
“Prepare ye the way of the Lord” – that means, look out, folks. That means, repent! You think you’re exempt because you “try to be a good person?” You think you’re in the clear because you’re in church? You haven’t stolen, killed, cheated on your spouse? What we do is the least of it; it’s what we think that gets us into trouble.
And what we don’t do. How we don’t protect the poor and the powerless. How we don’t speak up for the voiceless in the richest country on earth – where some children die because they have no medical coverage. Do you live in a nice house in a safe neighborhood? How many TV sets do you own? How many times a week do you eat out? Do you know that there are places where people get maybe a bowl of rice or grain a day and sleep on the ground?
How much of your wealth are you sharing? How much trash do you generate? How much energy do you consume with all your cars and overheated stores and electronics? Do you benefit from privileges just because you may be white or wealthy? Where you have access to resources and positions because someone else is kept away?
You have a choice – you can participate in unjust structures – or you can stand against injustice. You can wring your hands, or really start sharing your wealth. You can keep eating too much and spending too much, or strip down your lifestyle to what you need and stop feeding the consumer culture.
Don’t want to hear this in church? I’ve got a part to play in your life, friend. I’m here to remind you that repentance is a year-round thing, an everyday, every week thing. I stand here to remind you that everything is not hunky-dory in your house – that there is a lot of clutter standing between you and your God.
Do you want more of God in your life? Do you want Jesus to hang out in your heart? Then make some room for Him! Clean up your houses, people! Jesus is coming. The only trick is – we don’t know when. So we need to keep the house cleaned all the time. That’s a drag, isn’t it?
But He sent me. He sent me to be your wake-up call. So here I am, people – WAKE UP! THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS AT HAND. Turn away from your complacency! Clean it up!
Maybe we want to interrupt that barrage, say, “ Hey – give us a chance. Jesus is coming with fire, but he’s also full of love. Doesn’t it say somewhere that God “desires not the death of a sinner, but that they turn from their wickedness and live?”
And maybe John replies, I just want you to make it real. Real, from the heart. Real repentance, not just talk. That’s what God wants… I guess I’ll be on my way. See you next December, next time you guys take me out and dust me off.
Can we listen to John's good news all year round?
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
"So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people." That’s how Luke ends his reporting on the activities of John the Baptizer. I wonder if John's often harsh clarity (“You brood of vipers!”) sounded like good news to his listeners. Yet they went and told others who also came out to see him. Luke speaks of the crowds around John.
There can be something comforting about hearing the truth, being given a prescription for living in God’s way. But we tend to let those prescriptions lapse – the bible would be about a third of its length if people actually listened to God’s word and followed it. And what about us? We’re hardly a crowd in many churches, yet we show up faithfully. Are we listening faithfully? What might John say to us if we were gathered on that riverbank? It could sound like this:
“Prepare ye the way of the Lord” – that means, look out, folks. That means, repent! You think you’re exempt because you “try to be a good person?” You think you’re in the clear because you’re in church? You haven’t stolen, killed, cheated on your spouse? What we do is the least of it; it’s what we think that gets us into trouble.
And what we don’t do. How we don’t protect the poor and the powerless. How we don’t speak up for the voiceless in the richest country on earth – where some children die because they have no medical coverage. Do you live in a nice house in a safe neighborhood? How many TV sets do you own? How many times a week do you eat out? Do you know that there are places where people get maybe a bowl of rice or grain a day and sleep on the ground?
How much of your wealth are you sharing? How much trash do you generate? How much energy do you consume with all your cars and overheated stores and electronics? Do you benefit from privileges just because you may be white or wealthy? Where you have access to resources and positions because someone else is kept away?
You have a choice – you can participate in unjust structures – or you can stand against injustice. You can wring your hands, or really start sharing your wealth. You can keep eating too much and spending too much, or strip down your lifestyle to what you need and stop feeding the consumer culture.
Don’t want to hear this in church? I’ve got a part to play in your life, friend. I’m here to remind you that repentance is a year-round thing, an everyday, every week thing. I stand here to remind you that everything is not hunky-dory in your house – that there is a lot of clutter standing between you and your God.
Do you want more of God in your life? Do you want Jesus to hang out in your heart? Then make some room for Him! Clean up your houses, people! Jesus is coming. The only trick is – we don’t know when. So we need to keep the house cleaned all the time. That’s a drag, isn’t it?
But He sent me. He sent me to be your wake-up call. So here I am, people – WAKE UP! THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS AT HAND. Turn away from your complacency! Clean it up!
Maybe we want to interrupt that barrage, say, “ Hey – give us a chance. Jesus is coming with fire, but he’s also full of love. Doesn’t it say somewhere that God “desires not the death of a sinner, but that they turn from their wickedness and live?”
And maybe John replies, I just want you to make it real. Real, from the heart. Real repentance, not just talk. That’s what God wants… I guess I’ll be on my way. See you next December, next time you guys take me out and dust me off.
Can we listen to John's good news all year round?
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-28-24 God's House
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Where should they begin, these leaders of Israel’s spiritual life? Jesus, in his tirade at the temple, offended in so many ways. He threw around the furniture. He attacked the system of sacrifice and the economic engine that drove it. He showed no respect or decorum. Yet these transgressions likely paled in comparison to his words: “Stop making my father’s house a marketplace!”
His father’s house? This was the holy temple where God resided on earth. It belonged to Israel. It was the only place where holy rituals could be enacted, where ordinary people could come into contact with the Holy God. And this itinerant teacher presumed to call it his father’s house? This was blasphemy.
When Jesus called the temple in Jerusalem "his father's house" he may have been referencing Israel’s history and the tradition of King David who wanted to “build a house for God.” God replied that it was not David who would build a house for God, but God who would establish a house, a lineage for him, a line from which would come the Messiah. Was Jesus citing his Davidic heritage when he called it “my father’s house?” Not that it would have sounded any less blasphemous to his listeners than calling God his father.
Are places of worship meant to be houses for God? Is that what they are, and is that how we treat them? Or are they spaces for us, places we set apart, hoping to find in them a moment of holy connection, buildings in which we enact rituals that sometimes mediate the divine for us, in which we offer prayers and praises and portions of our wealth in hopes of encountering God? Is that what a sanctuary is for?
Or is a sanctuary a place to welcome people who don’t yet know the living God, but know they are missing a connection they crave? Should we decorate and arrange our churches for God – who likely doesn’t care where we meet, as long as we come in love and openness; for ourselves; or for outsiders who are hungry for God? How would it change the way we arrange and decorate them, and how we conduct ourselves in them, if we saw them as houses for God’s hungry people rather than as places for ourselves?
Just next in our passage, Jesus refers to his body as the temple that cannot be destroyed. Peter describes the people of God as a holy temple built of living stones. I suggest that God’s house is anywhere God’s name and power and love are invoked – every heart, every relationship, every place of prayer and desperate hope can be “my father’s house.”
What if we began to treat parks and street corners as holy spaces? Living rooms? Doctor’s offices? Shelters? Police stations?
Where do you pray? Where do you invite Jesus to make himself known? That is his father’s house today.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Where should they begin, these leaders of Israel’s spiritual life? Jesus, in his tirade at the temple, offended in so many ways. He threw around the furniture. He attacked the system of sacrifice and the economic engine that drove it. He showed no respect or decorum. Yet these transgressions likely paled in comparison to his words: “Stop making my father’s house a marketplace!”
His father’s house? This was the holy temple where God resided on earth. It belonged to Israel. It was the only place where holy rituals could be enacted, where ordinary people could come into contact with the Holy God. And this itinerant teacher presumed to call it his father’s house? This was blasphemy.
When Jesus called the temple in Jerusalem "his father's house" he may have been referencing Israel’s history and the tradition of King David who wanted to “build a house for God.” God replied that it was not David who would build a house for God, but God who would establish a house, a lineage for him, a line from which would come the Messiah. Was Jesus citing his Davidic heritage when he called it “my father’s house?” Not that it would have sounded any less blasphemous to his listeners than calling God his father.
Are places of worship meant to be houses for God? Is that what they are, and is that how we treat them? Or are they spaces for us, places we set apart, hoping to find in them a moment of holy connection, buildings in which we enact rituals that sometimes mediate the divine for us, in which we offer prayers and praises and portions of our wealth in hopes of encountering God? Is that what a sanctuary is for?
Or is a sanctuary a place to welcome people who don’t yet know the living God, but know they are missing a connection they crave? Should we decorate and arrange our churches for God – who likely doesn’t care where we meet, as long as we come in love and openness; for ourselves; or for outsiders who are hungry for God? How would it change the way we arrange and decorate them, and how we conduct ourselves in them, if we saw them as houses for God’s hungry people rather than as places for ourselves?
Just next in our passage, Jesus refers to his body as the temple that cannot be destroyed. Peter describes the people of God as a holy temple built of living stones. I suggest that God’s house is anywhere God’s name and power and love are invoked – every heart, every relationship, every place of prayer and desperate hope can be “my father’s house.”
What if we began to treat parks and street corners as holy spaces? Living rooms? Doctor’s offices? Shelters? Police stations?
Where do you pray? Where do you invite Jesus to make himself known? That is his father’s house today.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-27-24 - Zeal
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Funny thing about the derivatives of the word “zeal.” We think of “zealous” as “on the case” or “committed,” while “zealot” conjures images of bug-eyed maniacs raging about. The word originally referred to members of a Jewish political group in Jesus’ day who were eager to overthrow the occupying Romans.
However, Jesus’ zeal is directed not at the Romans but at his own religious leaders. Presumably he had an opinion about Roman oppression and cruelty visited upon his fellow Jewish citizens, but the concern the gospels speak to was the corruption of God’s message and heart which he saw in the temple leadership. After his rampage in the temple, John tells us, "His disciples remembered that it was written, ‘Zeal for your house will consume me.’”
What is the place for zeal in the Christian life? The early monastic hermits whom we call the Desert Fathers and Mothers, men and women who went into the desert to seek union with God away from the temptations of society, preached the spiritual virtue of apatheia, a detachment from worldly concerns and agendas that they saw as the goal of the spiritual life. The point was not to be passion-less, but to channel our passion into relationship with the God who loves us passionately. I wonder what the abbas and ammas taught about Jesus’ scene in the temple.
Where do we find our balance between wholehearted passion – for justice, for evangelism, for liberation, to name a few, and apatheia, the spiritual value of letting go?
One way to explore this is to discern when we hear God’s call to a particular area of justice-making, and when our interest might be driven by personal needs. I have a friend who began taking real leadership on the issue of sex trafficking. I asked her why that issue, and she said she felt God clearly tell her to work on that. She avoided it for years because it is such an ugly area of human life – but ultimately she said yes. She is galvanizing communities to shine a light on perpetrators and bring freedom to survivors. She is engaging in God’s mission, not furthering a personal agenda.
What issues get you “hot under the collar?” What about that matter hooks you, do you think? Do you feel God has invited you to participate in that aspect of God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation? Do you feel the power of the Holy Spirit with you as you work, and speak, weep or rejoice – or are you drained by the effort? Those are some ways to know where our passion is to be expressed.
However we discern our motivation, let's constantly invite the Spirit into our passion. When we are gripped with outrage over some injustice or corruption, start to note our reaction and pray right then and there – “God, is this a holy anger? Or is this anxiety or guilt or something else?” And if we sense it is a holy anger, we can take the next step and ask, “How would you like me to proceed? Show me where to hold back and wait on you, and where to move forward with all the fullness of your Spirit working in me.”
We call the great sacrifice our Lord Jesus endured for us – the whole thing, from his arrest through his crucifixion – his “passion,” from the word passio, or suffering. And yet this is also the word we use for ardent love, which is what drove Christ to endure his passion for us. If we let Christ live in us, we will know when to bring it on and when to dial it back. It has to be his work in us, or it’s for nothing.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Funny thing about the derivatives of the word “zeal.” We think of “zealous” as “on the case” or “committed,” while “zealot” conjures images of bug-eyed maniacs raging about. The word originally referred to members of a Jewish political group in Jesus’ day who were eager to overthrow the occupying Romans.
However, Jesus’ zeal is directed not at the Romans but at his own religious leaders. Presumably he had an opinion about Roman oppression and cruelty visited upon his fellow Jewish citizens, but the concern the gospels speak to was the corruption of God’s message and heart which he saw in the temple leadership. After his rampage in the temple, John tells us, "His disciples remembered that it was written, ‘Zeal for your house will consume me.’”
What is the place for zeal in the Christian life? The early monastic hermits whom we call the Desert Fathers and Mothers, men and women who went into the desert to seek union with God away from the temptations of society, preached the spiritual virtue of apatheia, a detachment from worldly concerns and agendas that they saw as the goal of the spiritual life. The point was not to be passion-less, but to channel our passion into relationship with the God who loves us passionately. I wonder what the abbas and ammas taught about Jesus’ scene in the temple.
Where do we find our balance between wholehearted passion – for justice, for evangelism, for liberation, to name a few, and apatheia, the spiritual value of letting go?
One way to explore this is to discern when we hear God’s call to a particular area of justice-making, and when our interest might be driven by personal needs. I have a friend who began taking real leadership on the issue of sex trafficking. I asked her why that issue, and she said she felt God clearly tell her to work on that. She avoided it for years because it is such an ugly area of human life – but ultimately she said yes. She is galvanizing communities to shine a light on perpetrators and bring freedom to survivors. She is engaging in God’s mission, not furthering a personal agenda.
What issues get you “hot under the collar?” What about that matter hooks you, do you think? Do you feel God has invited you to participate in that aspect of God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation? Do you feel the power of the Holy Spirit with you as you work, and speak, weep or rejoice – or are you drained by the effort? Those are some ways to know where our passion is to be expressed.
However we discern our motivation, let's constantly invite the Spirit into our passion. When we are gripped with outrage over some injustice or corruption, start to note our reaction and pray right then and there – “God, is this a holy anger? Or is this anxiety or guilt or something else?” And if we sense it is a holy anger, we can take the next step and ask, “How would you like me to proceed? Show me where to hold back and wait on you, and where to move forward with all the fullness of your Spirit working in me.”
We call the great sacrifice our Lord Jesus endured for us – the whole thing, from his arrest through his crucifixion – his “passion,” from the word passio, or suffering. And yet this is also the word we use for ardent love, which is what drove Christ to endure his passion for us. If we let Christ live in us, we will know when to bring it on and when to dial it back. It has to be his work in us, or it’s for nothing.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
1-15-24 - Act On the Good News
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’
That was core of Jesus’ the message: The time is fulfilled. The kingdom of God has come near. Believe the good news.
It can be hard to believe in the Good News, when so much bad news surrounds us. It takes a special kind of courage, a special kind of faith to continue to believe in the good news of Jesus Christ in the thick of evil.
Today we honor such a man, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who continued to proclaim justice and honor in the face of fire hoses and death threats, beatings and betrayals. But he didn’t just believe in “good news” in the abstract – he lived in relationship with the Good News himself, our Lord Jesus. He followed Jesus into those streets of battle and halls of power. He allowed Jesus to transform his life as he allied himself with God’s mission of justice. He gave voice to God’s dream, and allowed God’s dream to claim him, to take priority over other dreams he may have had for his own life and safety.
Each news cycle reminds us more starkly that the dream of racial equality continues to elude us. Today let’s do more than honor the man who helped bring us this far; let’s align ourselves with his Lord and let him lead us to our part in God’s dream of justice. Until every child knows her intrinsic worth, and can grow into his fullest potential unthwarted by racism or economic, political, or social injustice, we have a distance yet to go. "We've come this far by faith," says one civil rights hymn. It will require faith to get to the promised land Martin saw and worked toward.
How might we today proclaim the proximity of God’s realm?
How might we bring God’s justice into our own situations?
What will we say or do or pray?
How will we act on the Good News Jesus proclaimed?
How will you follow Jesus today?
Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’
That was core of Jesus’ the message: The time is fulfilled. The kingdom of God has come near. Believe the good news.
It can be hard to believe in the Good News, when so much bad news surrounds us. It takes a special kind of courage, a special kind of faith to continue to believe in the good news of Jesus Christ in the thick of evil.
Today we honor such a man, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who continued to proclaim justice and honor in the face of fire hoses and death threats, beatings and betrayals. But he didn’t just believe in “good news” in the abstract – he lived in relationship with the Good News himself, our Lord Jesus. He followed Jesus into those streets of battle and halls of power. He allowed Jesus to transform his life as he allied himself with God’s mission of justice. He gave voice to God’s dream, and allowed God’s dream to claim him, to take priority over other dreams he may have had for his own life and safety.
Each news cycle reminds us more starkly that the dream of racial equality continues to elude us. Today let’s do more than honor the man who helped bring us this far; let’s align ourselves with his Lord and let him lead us to our part in God’s dream of justice. Until every child knows her intrinsic worth, and can grow into his fullest potential unthwarted by racism or economic, political, or social injustice, we have a distance yet to go. "We've come this far by faith," says one civil rights hymn. It will require faith to get to the promised land Martin saw and worked toward.
How might we today proclaim the proximity of God’s realm?
How might we bring God’s justice into our own situations?
What will we say or do or pray?
How will we act on the Good News Jesus proclaimed?
How will you follow Jesus today?
12-22-23 - God of the Impossible
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Did Mary have a choice to decline the mission conferred upon her by God? The Angel Gabriel didn’t really ask; he just announced what was to happen. And yet they did have a conversation, and the angel gave her information which might have helped her get to that grace-filled “yes”: “And now, your relative Elizabeth 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.”
Elizabeth, John the Baptist's mother, became pregnant with him long after she was “in the way of women,” and after a lifetime of infertility and its stigma. Though her conception was “normal," the timing was miraculous enough to comfort Mary that the angel's strange message truly came from God.
We need to be reminded there are no limits to what God can do, because we spend so much time in the realm of limits. And because we see so many situations in which we yearn to see the unlimited power of God break out, and it doesn’t seem to. If all things are possible with God, why can tyrants invade small countries and devastate the lives of civilians? Why are corporations given tax breaks (handouts) while benefits to the poor and vulnerable are gutted? If all things are possible with God, why have so many sweet children and their teachers died in mass shootings in schools, and an average 33 more killed with guns daily in America? If God can do all things, why don’t we always see the healing we yearn for?
Those are all good questions – yet they lead nowhere but to a diminished faith. We are invited to believe in infinite possibilities despite the limits we perceive. We are invited to pray to the God for whom all things are possible… and then to ask how we are to be part of God's response.
I don't know what to do about tyrants but pray for them and give aid to their victims. I certainly don’t know what to do about Congress but pray for profound conversion of heart for those who pass unjust laws. I do know that gun violence can be reduced through sensible laws as well as culture change, and I can be part of that solution. And praying for healing within the overall confines of life and death means accepting that the outcomes of our prayers exist on that continuum as well. That isn’t meant to sound facile; that our prayers are not always answered in the way we desire doesn’t mean they aren’t sometimes answered that way. Each of those “sometimes” is an occasion to strengthen our faith.
What “impossibility” are you facing right now? Are you willing to invite God to work with it, turn it over, squish and mold it like clay, bend it like time and perhaps reveal a deeper mystery of “yes” in it? Are you willing to have your boundaries of the possible stretched? Pray in that today. Ask God to show you where God has placed limits, and where you’re just assuming they exist.
The story of Jesus’ incarnation through Mary of Nazareth is beautiful in so many ways, not the least for how decisively God overturns the “laws” of nature to bring about the overturning of death and sin and disease and injustice, ending the enslavement of this world to darkness. All that happens because Mary joined in the mission of God in the way she could, in the way she was asked. Jesus would continue to overturn those laws in his adult ministry. And, of course, on Easter morning, the God of the impossible demonstrated once again just how infinite his power is.
Nothing is impossible with God. The more we believe it, the further our boundaries of “possibility” will be stretched, and the deeper we will join in God's mission of restoration. And the deeper we go, the more impossible things we see.
Did Mary have a choice to decline the mission conferred upon her by God? The Angel Gabriel didn’t really ask; he just announced what was to happen. And yet they did have a conversation, and the angel gave her information which might have helped her get to that grace-filled “yes”: “And now, your relative Elizabeth 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.”
Elizabeth, John the Baptist's mother, became pregnant with him long after she was “in the way of women,” and after a lifetime of infertility and its stigma. Though her conception was “normal," the timing was miraculous enough to comfort Mary that the angel's strange message truly came from God.
We need to be reminded there are no limits to what God can do, because we spend so much time in the realm of limits. And because we see so many situations in which we yearn to see the unlimited power of God break out, and it doesn’t seem to. If all things are possible with God, why can tyrants invade small countries and devastate the lives of civilians? Why are corporations given tax breaks (handouts) while benefits to the poor and vulnerable are gutted? If all things are possible with God, why have so many sweet children and their teachers died in mass shootings in schools, and an average 33 more killed with guns daily in America? If God can do all things, why don’t we always see the healing we yearn for?
Those are all good questions – yet they lead nowhere but to a diminished faith. We are invited to believe in infinite possibilities despite the limits we perceive. We are invited to pray to the God for whom all things are possible… and then to ask how we are to be part of God's response.
I don't know what to do about tyrants but pray for them and give aid to their victims. I certainly don’t know what to do about Congress but pray for profound conversion of heart for those who pass unjust laws. I do know that gun violence can be reduced through sensible laws as well as culture change, and I can be part of that solution. And praying for healing within the overall confines of life and death means accepting that the outcomes of our prayers exist on that continuum as well. That isn’t meant to sound facile; that our prayers are not always answered in the way we desire doesn’t mean they aren’t sometimes answered that way. Each of those “sometimes” is an occasion to strengthen our faith.
What “impossibility” are you facing right now? Are you willing to invite God to work with it, turn it over, squish and mold it like clay, bend it like time and perhaps reveal a deeper mystery of “yes” in it? Are you willing to have your boundaries of the possible stretched? Pray in that today. Ask God to show you where God has placed limits, and where you’re just assuming they exist.
The story of Jesus’ incarnation through Mary of Nazareth is beautiful in so many ways, not the least for how decisively God overturns the “laws” of nature to bring about the overturning of death and sin and disease and injustice, ending the enslavement of this world to darkness. All that happens because Mary joined in the mission of God in the way she could, in the way she was asked. Jesus would continue to overturn those laws in his adult ministry. And, of course, on Easter morning, the God of the impossible demonstrated once again just how infinite his power is.
Nothing is impossible with God. The more we believe it, the further our boundaries of “possibility” will be stretched, and the deeper we will join in God's mission of restoration. And the deeper we go, the more impossible things we see.
9-18-23 - Unfair
You can listen to this reflection here.
This week we come to one of my favorite parables – the workers in the vineyard. No blood or violence in this one, just grace beyond measure. And boy, does that make some people mad!
You can read the whole story for yourself – here’s the “nutshell” version. A landowner hires day laborers for his vineyard, agreeing to a standard wage. They’re happy, he’s happy. As the day progresses, he goes back out to the marketplace at intervals and hires more workers, even at 5 in the afternoon, when the workday is nearly done. At quitting time, he instructs his manager to pay everyone a full day’s wage. Everyone gets the same – what could be more fair than that? But the ones who worked the whole day feel they should get more than those who worked less time.
"And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’"
Now, maybe their workload grew lighter as more workers were added to the vineyard… but even so, they have a point, don’t they? We almost always have a legitimate grievance when we compare ourselves to other people. But when we stand before God’s grace alone, we're more apt to be in awe of the abundance of mercy extended to us.
Like many of Jesus’ parables, this one is aimed at those who believe they are “in” in God’s realm by virtue of their hard work and righteousness. If we all get the same reward no matter how hard we work, what’s the point of working hard? Precisely! The Kingdom of Heaven is not for strivers – it is for what we become when we’ve finally reached the end of our striving and give up. Give in.
The currency of the Kingdom of Heaven is grace, unmerited love and forgiveness in abundance. Grace goes beyond contract. By its very nature, it is “unfair.” We cannot earn it. It is totally up to God to give, to whomever God wants, no matter how much or how little we try to please God.
How does that sit with you? On our best days, we say, “Whew!” because we know we get a pass. On our worse days, we say, “Hey! How come that one got a break?” Are you having a “thank God for grace” day or a “I want them to get what’s comin’ to them” day? If you’re in the former position, amen! You are in in the Life of God. Spend some time today giving thanks for all the ways you see and pass along God's grace.
If the idea of mercy for another – especially a heinous monster – is troubling you, that’s fine too. We feel what we feel. With those feelings we can pray for those undeserving people. Pray that they might come within reach of God’s true blessing. That’s the only force I know of that can transform the blackest heart. It's happened before...
Some years ago, I-Tunes users received a free gift of the new U2 album appearing in their playlists, whether or not they wanted it. Many in fact resented it. But In honor of that gift, let’s end with an old song of theirs, “Grace,” especially these lyrics:
This week we come to one of my favorite parables – the workers in the vineyard. No blood or violence in this one, just grace beyond measure. And boy, does that make some people mad!
You can read the whole story for yourself – here’s the “nutshell” version. A landowner hires day laborers for his vineyard, agreeing to a standard wage. They’re happy, he’s happy. As the day progresses, he goes back out to the marketplace at intervals and hires more workers, even at 5 in the afternoon, when the workday is nearly done. At quitting time, he instructs his manager to pay everyone a full day’s wage. Everyone gets the same – what could be more fair than that? But the ones who worked the whole day feel they should get more than those who worked less time.
"And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’"
Now, maybe their workload grew lighter as more workers were added to the vineyard… but even so, they have a point, don’t they? We almost always have a legitimate grievance when we compare ourselves to other people. But when we stand before God’s grace alone, we're more apt to be in awe of the abundance of mercy extended to us.
Like many of Jesus’ parables, this one is aimed at those who believe they are “in” in God’s realm by virtue of their hard work and righteousness. If we all get the same reward no matter how hard we work, what’s the point of working hard? Precisely! The Kingdom of Heaven is not for strivers – it is for what we become when we’ve finally reached the end of our striving and give up. Give in.
The currency of the Kingdom of Heaven is grace, unmerited love and forgiveness in abundance. Grace goes beyond contract. By its very nature, it is “unfair.” We cannot earn it. It is totally up to God to give, to whomever God wants, no matter how much or how little we try to please God.
How does that sit with you? On our best days, we say, “Whew!” because we know we get a pass. On our worse days, we say, “Hey! How come that one got a break?” Are you having a “thank God for grace” day or a “I want them to get what’s comin’ to them” day? If you’re in the former position, amen! You are in in the Life of God. Spend some time today giving thanks for all the ways you see and pass along God's grace.
If the idea of mercy for another – especially a heinous monster – is troubling you, that’s fine too. We feel what we feel. With those feelings we can pray for those undeserving people. Pray that they might come within reach of God’s true blessing. That’s the only force I know of that can transform the blackest heart. It's happened before...
Some years ago, I-Tunes users received a free gift of the new U2 album appearing in their playlists, whether or not they wanted it. Many in fact resented it. But In honor of that gift, let’s end with an old song of theirs, “Grace,” especially these lyrics:
What once was hurt / What once was friction / What left a mark / No longer stings /
5-2-23 - I'll Take You There
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“I know a place,” sings Mavis Staples, “Ain't nobody cryin', ain't nobody worried;/ Ain't no smilin' faces, lyin' to the races… I’ll take you there.”
“And you know the way to the place where I am going,” says Jesus.
Do we? Do we know how to get to that place where pain and anxiety and injustice are no more, where “sorrow and sighing will flee away?” (Isaiah 51) Thomas surely didn’t.
Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him."
In a relational system like the Christian faith, everything – places, routes, truth, even life – comes down to a person. And not just any person – the person of Jesus of Nazareth, whom we claim was the humanly embodied Son of God. Beyond following a way, assenting to a truth, living a life, as Christ followers we are invited to know Jesus. Knowing Jesus is the Way to know God most fully. Knowing Jesus brings us into a relationship with Truth. Knowing Jesus allows us to fully live that abundant Life he promised.
Of course, scholars have, do and will argue about how exclusive that next sentence was intended to be. Did Jesus really say that, and what did he mean? I just focus on what he said after that: “If you know me, you will know my Father also.” Jesus said he was the Way. Best? Only? Fastest? I don’t know. This is the revelation I have received, so this is where I rest. I seek to know the fullness of God by allowing Jesus into my life in relationship, in conversation, in guidance and sensing and love. If I ever know Jesus well enough, I might explore other spiritual ways. Certainly I can appreciate them, but this one is deep enough for me.
If we’ve grown up with the notion that God is very close, like a grand-dad sitting in his rocker, then Jesus’ proclamation might have little power. But if, like his hearers, you’ve been taught that God is far away and too impossibly holy to be known, then you can understand how radical it was for Jesus to proclaim that one could know God through knowing him.
How do you know Jesus? Through prayer? Books? Stained glass windows? Movies? Bible study? How well do you want to know Jesus? Do you want to let him come close, or stay at arm’s length?
If we say to God in prayer, “I’d like to know you more,” I believe the Spirit will begin to reveal God to us. I don’t know in what way – if you offer that prayer, you might want to keep a prayer notebook to write down whatever you experience in coming to know God better.
God wants to be known by us. That is why Jesus came like us – so we could at least recognize him enough to draw near. And when we draw near to that place… we find God.
“I know a place,” sings Mavis Staples, “Ain't nobody cryin', ain't nobody worried;/ Ain't no smilin' faces, lyin' to the races… I’ll take you there.”
“And you know the way to the place where I am going,” says Jesus.
Do we? Do we know how to get to that place where pain and anxiety and injustice are no more, where “sorrow and sighing will flee away?” (Isaiah 51) Thomas surely didn’t.
Thomas said to him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him."
In a relational system like the Christian faith, everything – places, routes, truth, even life – comes down to a person. And not just any person – the person of Jesus of Nazareth, whom we claim was the humanly embodied Son of God. Beyond following a way, assenting to a truth, living a life, as Christ followers we are invited to know Jesus. Knowing Jesus is the Way to know God most fully. Knowing Jesus brings us into a relationship with Truth. Knowing Jesus allows us to fully live that abundant Life he promised.
Of course, scholars have, do and will argue about how exclusive that next sentence was intended to be. Did Jesus really say that, and what did he mean? I just focus on what he said after that: “If you know me, you will know my Father also.” Jesus said he was the Way. Best? Only? Fastest? I don’t know. This is the revelation I have received, so this is where I rest. I seek to know the fullness of God by allowing Jesus into my life in relationship, in conversation, in guidance and sensing and love. If I ever know Jesus well enough, I might explore other spiritual ways. Certainly I can appreciate them, but this one is deep enough for me.
If we’ve grown up with the notion that God is very close, like a grand-dad sitting in his rocker, then Jesus’ proclamation might have little power. But if, like his hearers, you’ve been taught that God is far away and too impossibly holy to be known, then you can understand how radical it was for Jesus to proclaim that one could know God through knowing him.
How do you know Jesus? Through prayer? Books? Stained glass windows? Movies? Bible study? How well do you want to know Jesus? Do you want to let him come close, or stay at arm’s length?
If we say to God in prayer, “I’d like to know you more,” I believe the Spirit will begin to reveal God to us. I don’t know in what way – if you offer that prayer, you might want to keep a prayer notebook to write down whatever you experience in coming to know God better.
God wants to be known by us. That is why Jesus came like us – so we could at least recognize him enough to draw near. And when we draw near to that place… we find God.
3-16-23 - Truth To Power
You can listen to this reflection here.
A student of power dynamics could have a field day with the Christian gospels. The next part of this week’s story shows how much power the powerless can have, and how much control people with an illusion of power can try to exert over others. The Pharisees depicted here could put a hostile Congressional hearing to shame.
Unsure what to make of this miracle of healing, these leaders interrogate the man born blind. When he maintains his story – “This man came along, made a paste with mud, put it on my eyes, sent me to wash it off, and then I could see” – they decide to question the man’s parents. They don’t contradict the story, so they go back to the man himself.
So for the second time they called the man who had been blind, and they said to him, “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.” (I think we call that leading the witness… ) He answered, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” They said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?”
Where does this man get the boldness to answer the authorities with such wit and sarcasm? Perhaps knowing that God has healed him so powerfully frees him to stand up to these ecclesiastical bullies. He gets a reaction: Then they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.” The man answered, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”
Talk about transformation! This man who used to beg every day, the only occupation his disability allowed him, is now revealed as a theologian and a lawyer, turning their logic back on them. “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” Clearly, his spiritual vision functions as well as his new eyesight. This man, who recently held the lowest social status, now speaks with authority to the authorities.
Where can we get the courage to stand against power that abuses authority and distorts logic? We may encounter such people in our own lives, workplaces, even families, not to mention governments. How do we speak truth to them? We locate our power in the same place the now-seeing man did: knowing we are so beloved of God, that God would move heaven and earth to make us whole. It is in our awareness of our need, weakness before God, reliance on God's strength, that we find the power to stand for justice and truth.
Today, remind yourself of the different ways God has healed and strengthened you over the years. Recall the ways you used to have trouble functioning, that you’ve overcome. Name your gifts, and the transformations you’ve undergone. You might also name ways in which you still feel disabled, ill equipped, out of control. Invite the Spirit of God to pour God’s love into those areas in you, and make you whole.
St. Paul reminds us that God’s strength is perfected in our weakness. Anytime we’re unsure of where we stand, we can remember that we stand in the might of the God who made all that is, seen and unseen. As we stand in that power and love, we see more and more of God’s love at work.
A student of power dynamics could have a field day with the Christian gospels. The next part of this week’s story shows how much power the powerless can have, and how much control people with an illusion of power can try to exert over others. The Pharisees depicted here could put a hostile Congressional hearing to shame.
Unsure what to make of this miracle of healing, these leaders interrogate the man born blind. When he maintains his story – “This man came along, made a paste with mud, put it on my eyes, sent me to wash it off, and then I could see” – they decide to question the man’s parents. They don’t contradict the story, so they go back to the man himself.
So for the second time they called the man who had been blind, and they said to him, “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.” (I think we call that leading the witness… ) He answered, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” They said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?”
Where does this man get the boldness to answer the authorities with such wit and sarcasm? Perhaps knowing that God has healed him so powerfully frees him to stand up to these ecclesiastical bullies. He gets a reaction: Then they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.” The man answered, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”
Talk about transformation! This man who used to beg every day, the only occupation his disability allowed him, is now revealed as a theologian and a lawyer, turning their logic back on them. “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” Clearly, his spiritual vision functions as well as his new eyesight. This man, who recently held the lowest social status, now speaks with authority to the authorities.
Where can we get the courage to stand against power that abuses authority and distorts logic? We may encounter such people in our own lives, workplaces, even families, not to mention governments. How do we speak truth to them? We locate our power in the same place the now-seeing man did: knowing we are so beloved of God, that God would move heaven and earth to make us whole. It is in our awareness of our need, weakness before God, reliance on God's strength, that we find the power to stand for justice and truth.
Today, remind yourself of the different ways God has healed and strengthened you over the years. Recall the ways you used to have trouble functioning, that you’ve overcome. Name your gifts, and the transformations you’ve undergone. You might also name ways in which you still feel disabled, ill equipped, out of control. Invite the Spirit of God to pour God’s love into those areas in you, and make you whole.
St. Paul reminds us that God’s strength is perfected in our weakness. Anytime we’re unsure of where we stand, we can remember that we stand in the might of the God who made all that is, seen and unseen. As we stand in that power and love, we see more and more of God’s love at work.
1-30-23 - Salty
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As Jesus’ followers began to live and travel with him, they discovered just how many things they had to learn how to do: feed the hungry, proclaim the Gospel, encourage the poor, heal the sick – oh, and raise the dead when necessary. But he also told them how they were to be: “You are the salt of the earth.”
As we know, salt has many functions – flavor-enhancer, food-preserver, fluid-retainer are a few that come to mind. Jesus here refers to the first, to salt as an agent that adds flavor to food, and brings out the flavors in other ingredients. He suggests that this is a critical function of religious communities – that they both add and elicit flavor.
And if they’re bland or watered down… forget it. Jesus does not mince words about the consequences of salt having lost its flavor. “…but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled underfoot.”
Is he talking about the lukewarm, semi-corrupt religious leadership of Israel in his day? Or the tepid, play-it-safe ministry of so many churches today? Is he warning his followers to maintain their character no matter what comes at them?
How do we interpret this call to be “salt” in our spiritual lives and communities? First, we might think about where we add flavor and zest. What sectors of your life do you enliven because of who you are, and because of your connection to God? Work, school, family, ministry, play, church – these are a couple of spheres; you might name more. In the last six years millions of ordinary people around the world have added “activist” to their resumes, carving out time for community organizing. That is being salt in the body politic. Ask God where you are called to be salt.
And how about this second function of salt, to bring out the natural flavors of other ingredients? How do you elicit the gifts and enthusiasms and generosity of the people with whom you interact in those spheres? How does – or doesn’t – your faith community do that within its larger context? How can we be salt in our world?
And who is adding salt to your life? Who is bringing forth your natural flavors? Does the interaction work to make something greater than the parts?
At its most basic level, this teaching of Jesus reminds us that our spiritual engagements need to be full of life and flavor, not rote, dull, lukewarm, complacent, or tired. I’d go further: God wants our whole lives to reflect the savory flavor of God’s love and mercy, justice and peace - and we're how that flavor gets in to what God is cooking up. So into the shaker we go - get ready to be sprinkled.
As Jesus’ followers began to live and travel with him, they discovered just how many things they had to learn how to do: feed the hungry, proclaim the Gospel, encourage the poor, heal the sick – oh, and raise the dead when necessary. But he also told them how they were to be: “You are the salt of the earth.”
As we know, salt has many functions – flavor-enhancer, food-preserver, fluid-retainer are a few that come to mind. Jesus here refers to the first, to salt as an agent that adds flavor to food, and brings out the flavors in other ingredients. He suggests that this is a critical function of religious communities – that they both add and elicit flavor.
And if they’re bland or watered down… forget it. Jesus does not mince words about the consequences of salt having lost its flavor. “…but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled underfoot.”
Is he talking about the lukewarm, semi-corrupt religious leadership of Israel in his day? Or the tepid, play-it-safe ministry of so many churches today? Is he warning his followers to maintain their character no matter what comes at them?
How do we interpret this call to be “salt” in our spiritual lives and communities? First, we might think about where we add flavor and zest. What sectors of your life do you enliven because of who you are, and because of your connection to God? Work, school, family, ministry, play, church – these are a couple of spheres; you might name more. In the last six years millions of ordinary people around the world have added “activist” to their resumes, carving out time for community organizing. That is being salt in the body politic. Ask God where you are called to be salt.
And how about this second function of salt, to bring out the natural flavors of other ingredients? How do you elicit the gifts and enthusiasms and generosity of the people with whom you interact in those spheres? How does – or doesn’t – your faith community do that within its larger context? How can we be salt in our world?
And who is adding salt to your life? Who is bringing forth your natural flavors? Does the interaction work to make something greater than the parts?
At its most basic level, this teaching of Jesus reminds us that our spiritual engagements need to be full of life and flavor, not rote, dull, lukewarm, complacent, or tired. I’d go further: God wants our whole lives to reflect the savory flavor of God’s love and mercy, justice and peace - and we're how that flavor gets in to what God is cooking up. So into the shaker we go - get ready to be sprinkled.
1-26-23 - The Foolishness of God
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's epistle reading is here.
I’ve never been a big fan of rallies and marches – they take a lot of time and resources to organize, divert a lot of people’s energies from more strategic action on the issue being marched for, and rarely change anyone’s mind. But on the occasions when I have participated in such events, especially ones that draw hundreds of thousands of people together to bear witness to a desire for justice and equity, I understand their power: a power based not on might or authority, but on agreement, on ordinary people coming together to become a political force. They send a message of empowerment to those who are regarded – or regard themselves - as foolish, weak, low and despised, things that are not. They can remind us of the power we have when we come together as the “insignificant." We can overcome evil. And when we come together in Jesus’ name, in the name of the One who allowed himself to become shamed, weak, low and despised, evil does not have a chance.
For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength. Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.
Great words – but evil is still having a good run, is it not, when gun manufacturers continue their stranglehold on our Congress, preventing the passage of sensible gun laws; when people of color in this country are more likely to be shot by police, and be denied opportunities afforded white people; when hunger continues to devastate some communities and countries, while much of the world throws away food as waste? We will never run out of injustices to protest – what power do we have?
I’ve shared here a definition of the devil, whom Christians regard as the source of evil in this world, as “the enemy of human nature.” Paul reminds us in Ephesians 6:12 that “our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against the powers, the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” Yes, we are called as those “who are not” – in the sight of the powers that be – to reduce to nothing things that are. But our weapons are spiritual and communal, not destructive.
The Good News we have been called to proclaim is this story of God’s great reversal, of God’s lifting up those who are downcast. It has always been good news to the poor and those on the margins; less so to the wealthy and powerful. And where we are wealthy and powerful, we need to consider God’s call to humility and justice.
As we embody this good news, we bring it into being, this realm of God in which peace and justice already reign. Let it be so on earth, as it is in heaven.
I’ve never been a big fan of rallies and marches – they take a lot of time and resources to organize, divert a lot of people’s energies from more strategic action on the issue being marched for, and rarely change anyone’s mind. But on the occasions when I have participated in such events, especially ones that draw hundreds of thousands of people together to bear witness to a desire for justice and equity, I understand their power: a power based not on might or authority, but on agreement, on ordinary people coming together to become a political force. They send a message of empowerment to those who are regarded – or regard themselves - as foolish, weak, low and despised, things that are not. They can remind us of the power we have when we come together as the “insignificant." We can overcome evil. And when we come together in Jesus’ name, in the name of the One who allowed himself to become shamed, weak, low and despised, evil does not have a chance.
For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength. Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.
Great words – but evil is still having a good run, is it not, when gun manufacturers continue their stranglehold on our Congress, preventing the passage of sensible gun laws; when people of color in this country are more likely to be shot by police, and be denied opportunities afforded white people; when hunger continues to devastate some communities and countries, while much of the world throws away food as waste? We will never run out of injustices to protest – what power do we have?
I’ve shared here a definition of the devil, whom Christians regard as the source of evil in this world, as “the enemy of human nature.” Paul reminds us in Ephesians 6:12 that “our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against the powers, the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” Yes, we are called as those “who are not” – in the sight of the powers that be – to reduce to nothing things that are. But our weapons are spiritual and communal, not destructive.
The Good News we have been called to proclaim is this story of God’s great reversal, of God’s lifting up those who are downcast. It has always been good news to the poor and those on the margins; less so to the wealthy and powerful. And where we are wealthy and powerful, we need to consider God’s call to humility and justice.
As we embody this good news, we bring it into being, this realm of God in which peace and justice already reign. Let it be so on earth, as it is in heaven.
12-23-22 - Shepherds and Angels - and You
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The stable wasn’t the only center of action that original Christmas – God’s great production had multiple locations and a huge cast. The holy child birthed and swaddled, we fade out on the manger and shift focus to the fields outside Bethlehem, to a group of shepherds “keeping watch over their flocks by night.” Flocks were precious assets, and nighttime perilous – predators, thieves; many dangers lurked.
Herding sheep was not a glamorous profession in Jesus’ time, if ever. Shepherds were considered the dregs of society, dirty, crude, unkempt, the last ones on earth you’d think would be the first to hear world-transforming news. But our God of surprises doesn’t see in such categories. The least likely became the first – does that sound familiar?
And not only the first to hear; this earthy bunch were the recipients of a celestial visit, a host of angels. The highest possible order of being, shining with the glory of the Lord, and rough-hewn riff-raff, brought together on that bright hillside to share joy.
“In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Think God was up to something? Think God is still up to something? A bunch of folks from whom no one expected anything good were entrusted with the best news of all – the birth of the Messiah, a savior, the Lord. This revelation, backed up by the most amazing light show ever seen, became their news to tell. To be the bearer of news everyone wants to hear – that’s quite a status upgrade.
Of the many messages in this strange tale we tell over and over, here is one: no one, no kind of person, no category of person is insignificant in God’s eyes. In God’s Life the most marginalized – even the most objectionable – can become the center of the story.
The stable wasn’t the only center of action that original Christmas – God’s great production had multiple locations and a huge cast. The holy child birthed and swaddled, we fade out on the manger and shift focus to the fields outside Bethlehem, to a group of shepherds “keeping watch over their flocks by night.” Flocks were precious assets, and nighttime perilous – predators, thieves; many dangers lurked.
Herding sheep was not a glamorous profession in Jesus’ time, if ever. Shepherds were considered the dregs of society, dirty, crude, unkempt, the last ones on earth you’d think would be the first to hear world-transforming news. But our God of surprises doesn’t see in such categories. The least likely became the first – does that sound familiar?
And not only the first to hear; this earthy bunch were the recipients of a celestial visit, a host of angels. The highest possible order of being, shining with the glory of the Lord, and rough-hewn riff-raff, brought together on that bright hillside to share joy.
“In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Think God was up to something? Think God is still up to something? A bunch of folks from whom no one expected anything good were entrusted with the best news of all – the birth of the Messiah, a savior, the Lord. This revelation, backed up by the most amazing light show ever seen, became their news to tell. To be the bearer of news everyone wants to hear – that’s quite a status upgrade.
Of the many messages in this strange tale we tell over and over, here is one: no one, no kind of person, no category of person is insignificant in God’s eyes. In God’s Life the most marginalized – even the most objectionable – can become the center of the story.
“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
Who is on the margins of your life, or your community’s life? Can you invite someone into the center? Can you honor the least likely person by entrusting him with this amazing news? Maybe you feel like you are the least likely person. Know this: God has chosen you to share God’s most precious gift. Wrap your mind around that while you’re wrapping presents.
For a little while that night, there was peace, there was joy, there was amazement and wonder, shared between shepherds and angels, earth and heaven. I pray that for us, as we hear or tell the Magnificent Story again tomorrow night, as we look for those at the edges and invite them into the center: Peace. Joy. Amazement. Wonder. O come, let us adore him!
Who is on the margins of your life, or your community’s life? Can you invite someone into the center? Can you honor the least likely person by entrusting him with this amazing news? Maybe you feel like you are the least likely person. Know this: God has chosen you to share God’s most precious gift. Wrap your mind around that while you’re wrapping presents.
For a little while that night, there was peace, there was joy, there was amazement and wonder, shared between shepherds and angels, earth and heaven. I pray that for us, as we hear or tell the Magnificent Story again tomorrow night, as we look for those at the edges and invite them into the center: Peace. Joy. Amazement. Wonder. O come, let us adore him!
11-29-22 - Leveling the Road
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
John the Baptist was a profoundly counter-cultural figure out there in the desert, but something about his message commanded attention. Matthew tells us, "Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan...”
His message was simple: repent and get ready – something is up. God is on the move.
...John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: `Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'"
Even in his day John was linked with Isaiah’s prediction that a prophet would arise out in the wilderness crying, “Prepare the way of the Lord.” That prophecy says,
“Make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, all people will see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”
Making space for the life of God breaking into our lives means building a highway for Christ to travel, a straight and level road in the desert of this world. This “leveling,” the valleys being lifted and mountains brought low, the rough and rugged ground becoming plains, is a metaphor which has economic, political, even emotional dimensions.
When we start looking for peaks and valleys, highs and lows, we can see them everywhere: in our environment, in toxic slag heaps and crater-filled mining areas; in our economy, in the income gap between rich and poor, widening at an alarming rate in our times – for countries as well as individuals. We can find disparity in our own moods, as we become hostage to pressure and stress from without and within. There is an equalizing element to this spiritual work, as we make space for the life of God, the love of God, the justice of God.
As you survey the world and your own life, what hills might be brought low and what vacancies filled in?
A simpler way to ask that might be: What do you have too much of in your life (think spiritually and emotionally as well as materially…)?
What do you not have enough of? What feels empty in you that needs to be filled?
If we can answer those two questions, we have some prayer work laid out for the season of Advent, as we keep praying into those “too-much-es,” and “not-enoughs.” Why is the “too-much-ness” there? Has the deficiency always existed? Is there an external, justice dimension to our personalissues?
Christ has come, Christ is coming, Christ will come again. How might we make a level road for him to walk - into our world, into our hearts?
John the Baptist was a profoundly counter-cultural figure out there in the desert, but something about his message commanded attention. Matthew tells us, "Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan...”
His message was simple: repent and get ready – something is up. God is on the move.
...John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: `Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'"
Even in his day John was linked with Isaiah’s prediction that a prophet would arise out in the wilderness crying, “Prepare the way of the Lord.” That prophecy says,
“Make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, all people will see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”
Making space for the life of God breaking into our lives means building a highway for Christ to travel, a straight and level road in the desert of this world. This “leveling,” the valleys being lifted and mountains brought low, the rough and rugged ground becoming plains, is a metaphor which has economic, political, even emotional dimensions.
When we start looking for peaks and valleys, highs and lows, we can see them everywhere: in our environment, in toxic slag heaps and crater-filled mining areas; in our economy, in the income gap between rich and poor, widening at an alarming rate in our times – for countries as well as individuals. We can find disparity in our own moods, as we become hostage to pressure and stress from without and within. There is an equalizing element to this spiritual work, as we make space for the life of God, the love of God, the justice of God.
As you survey the world and your own life, what hills might be brought low and what vacancies filled in?
A simpler way to ask that might be: What do you have too much of in your life (think spiritually and emotionally as well as materially…)?
What do you not have enough of? What feels empty in you that needs to be filled?
If we can answer those two questions, we have some prayer work laid out for the season of Advent, as we keep praying into those “too-much-es,” and “not-enoughs.” Why is the “too-much-ness” there? Has the deficiency always existed? Is there an external, justice dimension to our personalissues?
Christ has come, Christ is coming, Christ will come again. How might we make a level road for him to walk - into our world, into our hearts?
11-10-22 - New Heavens/New Earth
You can listen to this reflection here.
For the rest of this week we will focus on one of the readings from the Hebrew Bible set for Sunday, a beautiful prophecy in Isaiah, in which God announces: “For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth.” This promise is timely.
Many Christians express their faith and hope in God’s justice by working to ensure equality for all members of our society – people of all colors, genders, levels of wealth, sexual orientations, countries of origin, religious traditions. They see this as is a way of harnessing the power of heaven, to participate with God in bringing about that new earth. Isaiah gives voice to this yearning for peace and security which should be the birthright of every man, woman and child – and animal – on this planet. He articulates beautifully the hope of a restored creation living in harmony:
I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime...
Reading that, I think of families grieving the death of elders or infants who did not have access to affordable healthcare; of women and girls who see protection for women being stripped away and now feel less secure; of people of color watching the resurgence of unabashed racism, afraid for their children; of men and women who have lost children and spouses, brothers and uncles to ever increasing levels of gun violence – the sound of weeping never quite dies away.
I think of the promise of security and work and rest depicted in this prophecy:
They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat…
This is true peace, when each person can live in safety in her own home, bringing up his children to thrive in trust. This is the world God says he is bringing into being. This is the promise we are invited to participate in making real. And that work is still before us. Perhaps the challenge is greater now, but the work remains, and we do not do it alone.
What do you long for when you think of God making new heavens and a new earth? What aspect of life in this world do you feel called to help renew? Where do you want to put your energies?
Start by praying about that area, and imagining yourself making a difference, in the power of the Spirit. What do you see yourself doing or saying? Keep inviting God into it.
I know I will keep working and praying for peace on our streets and honor in the halls of power. “They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.”
I believe in the power of love to transform and convert the most evil heart. I have to, despite evidence to the contrary. The evidence is not more powerful than the power and the promise of God. God is creating the new heavens and the new earth – and we are here at the beginning. Every day.
For the rest of this week we will focus on one of the readings from the Hebrew Bible set for Sunday, a beautiful prophecy in Isaiah, in which God announces: “For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth.” This promise is timely.
Many Christians express their faith and hope in God’s justice by working to ensure equality for all members of our society – people of all colors, genders, levels of wealth, sexual orientations, countries of origin, religious traditions. They see this as is a way of harnessing the power of heaven, to participate with God in bringing about that new earth. Isaiah gives voice to this yearning for peace and security which should be the birthright of every man, woman and child – and animal – on this planet. He articulates beautifully the hope of a restored creation living in harmony:
I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime...
Reading that, I think of families grieving the death of elders or infants who did not have access to affordable healthcare; of women and girls who see protection for women being stripped away and now feel less secure; of people of color watching the resurgence of unabashed racism, afraid for their children; of men and women who have lost children and spouses, brothers and uncles to ever increasing levels of gun violence – the sound of weeping never quite dies away.
I think of the promise of security and work and rest depicted in this prophecy:
They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat…
This is true peace, when each person can live in safety in her own home, bringing up his children to thrive in trust. This is the world God says he is bringing into being. This is the promise we are invited to participate in making real. And that work is still before us. Perhaps the challenge is greater now, but the work remains, and we do not do it alone.
What do you long for when you think of God making new heavens and a new earth? What aspect of life in this world do you feel called to help renew? Where do you want to put your energies?
Start by praying about that area, and imagining yourself making a difference, in the power of the Spirit. What do you see yourself doing or saying? Keep inviting God into it.
I know I will keep working and praying for peace on our streets and honor in the halls of power. “They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the LORD.”
I believe in the power of love to transform and convert the most evil heart. I have to, despite evidence to the contrary. The evidence is not more powerful than the power and the promise of God. God is creating the new heavens and the new earth – and we are here at the beginning. Every day.
11-9-22 - Faith On Trial
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Oh, how good it is to type “November 9,” to be on the other side of election day. I generally post Water Daily a few days in advance, so I am writing this blind. And maybe that’s a good thing… to live by faith means to believe in God’s goodness even though we can’t see around the next corner.
And faith is what Jesus is getting at in this talk to his followers. He is preparing them for hard times to come, when the structures of their faith are torn away and they face persecution from both Jewish leaders and Roman occupiers for their belief in Christ.
"But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name.”
He says they will be betrayed by family and friends and handed over, and, “some of you will die.” But there’s an upside, he says: this will give them a chance to testify. Then he says something strange: don’t prepare. “So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.”
Defending our faith is something few of us will have to face. I have heard testimony from African clergy who have known bitter persecution and bombed churches and death threats. But most Christians I know are more likely to be mocked than persecuted for their faith. “Why do you bother with that?”
And what would you answer? What do you say when people ask why you believe in Christ? As the old saw goes, “If you were on trial for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” Name some of that evidence.
We may not have to stand up for our faith very often, but there are occasions when we’re called to testify in other ways – to stand for justice, to speak truth to those who have the power to change things. Every American of faith is going to have a chance in the coming weeks and months and years to bear witness to the power of love in the face of division and rage, perhaps violence. I don’t know what those confrontations may look like, but I believe we can pray for the filling of the Holy Spirit to be ready to stand for love and justice, humility and peace. We may not know what to say, but Jesus, who has promised to be with us through His Spirit, will be right there – and he can be pretty persuasive.
After all, it’s not our job to represent God, or even to make other people believe in God. It is only up to us to make the introductions, to speak of the love and truth we experience. The Spirit can do the rest.
Oh, how good it is to type “November 9,” to be on the other side of election day. I generally post Water Daily a few days in advance, so I am writing this blind. And maybe that’s a good thing… to live by faith means to believe in God’s goodness even though we can’t see around the next corner.
And faith is what Jesus is getting at in this talk to his followers. He is preparing them for hard times to come, when the structures of their faith are torn away and they face persecution from both Jewish leaders and Roman occupiers for their belief in Christ.
"But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name.”
He says they will be betrayed by family and friends and handed over, and, “some of you will die.” But there’s an upside, he says: this will give them a chance to testify. Then he says something strange: don’t prepare. “So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.”
Defending our faith is something few of us will have to face. I have heard testimony from African clergy who have known bitter persecution and bombed churches and death threats. But most Christians I know are more likely to be mocked than persecuted for their faith. “Why do you bother with that?”
And what would you answer? What do you say when people ask why you believe in Christ? As the old saw goes, “If you were on trial for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” Name some of that evidence.
We may not have to stand up for our faith very often, but there are occasions when we’re called to testify in other ways – to stand for justice, to speak truth to those who have the power to change things. Every American of faith is going to have a chance in the coming weeks and months and years to bear witness to the power of love in the face of division and rage, perhaps violence. I don’t know what those confrontations may look like, but I believe we can pray for the filling of the Holy Spirit to be ready to stand for love and justice, humility and peace. We may not know what to say, but Jesus, who has promised to be with us through His Spirit, will be right there – and he can be pretty persuasive.
After all, it’s not our job to represent God, or even to make other people believe in God. It is only up to us to make the introductions, to speak of the love and truth we experience. The Spirit can do the rest.
10-13-22 - Have a Little Faith
You can listen to this reflection here.
Talk about burns – how’s this for a closing: “And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" That’s what Jesus says at the end of his story.
Faith. That again. Isn’t it nicer when the focus is on God’s action – or delayed action? With this parting shot, Jesus swerves the lens neatly back to us. That persistent widow in his story, annoying as she may have been, was also an examplar of faith. She had faith in a system that thus far had yielded no justice. But she kept at it.
How about us? I know many people who turn away from God because their suffering, or the suffering of others, has not been alleviated, as though that were the only criteria for belief. I acknowledge the reality of that pain – AND I want to invite people with that viewpoint to widen their field of vision. On any given day, most of us can see many blessings and answers to prayer and signs of God-life, as well as the persistence of injustice and challenges. We are invited to take it all in, to give praise in all circumstances, to allow the blessings to strengthen our faith for the challenges.
As I wrote this, John Hiatt’s song, Have a Little Faith in Me started up in my head. Though it is a love song from a man to a woman, I can imagine our loving God singing it to us: When the road gets dark and you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark, and have a little faith in me.
Today in prayer, instead of making lists and thinking of all the areas where we want to see God’s justice, let’s recall God’s faithfulness and our own faith. If you want to try a new prayer experience, play the song and imagine God singing it to you (okay, if John Hiatt as God is a little too much, you could just read the words…)
God has chosen to work through our faith, weak or strong as it may be at any given moment. It is a key ingredient in bringing forth justice. So remember. Remember the times when you’ve known God’s faithfulness, and dare to have a little faith, one more time, for Jesus to find.
Talk about burns – how’s this for a closing: “And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" That’s what Jesus says at the end of his story.
Faith. That again. Isn’t it nicer when the focus is on God’s action – or delayed action? With this parting shot, Jesus swerves the lens neatly back to us. That persistent widow in his story, annoying as she may have been, was also an examplar of faith. She had faith in a system that thus far had yielded no justice. But she kept at it.
How about us? I know many people who turn away from God because their suffering, or the suffering of others, has not been alleviated, as though that were the only criteria for belief. I acknowledge the reality of that pain – AND I want to invite people with that viewpoint to widen their field of vision. On any given day, most of us can see many blessings and answers to prayer and signs of God-life, as well as the persistence of injustice and challenges. We are invited to take it all in, to give praise in all circumstances, to allow the blessings to strengthen our faith for the challenges.
As I wrote this, John Hiatt’s song, Have a Little Faith in Me started up in my head. Though it is a love song from a man to a woman, I can imagine our loving God singing it to us: When the road gets dark and you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark, and have a little faith in me.
Today in prayer, instead of making lists and thinking of all the areas where we want to see God’s justice, let’s recall God’s faithfulness and our own faith. If you want to try a new prayer experience, play the song and imagine God singing it to you (okay, if John Hiatt as God is a little too much, you could just read the words…)
God has chosen to work through our faith, weak or strong as it may be at any given moment. It is a key ingredient in bringing forth justice. So remember. Remember the times when you’ve known God’s faithfulness, and dare to have a little faith, one more time, for Jesus to find.
10-12-22 - Justice-Makers
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“Justice delayed is justice denied," goes the saying. This expression can sound tunnel-visioned, oblivious to what are in some cases competing claims, or the need for a process of culture change. Or maybe it’s always true, and those less hurried are simply benefiting more from the status quo. “It ain’t that simple,” they say. But to those waiting for justice, it ain’t that complicated.
After telling how the judge is eventually worn down by the widow’s persistence, Jesus says: “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them.”
My first reaction is, “Quickly? Not delayed? How many have cried out to God day and night, century after century, and still the powerful dominate the weak, and the rich hoard resources that keep others poor, and the corrupt steal justice from the powerless..." What do we do with these words?
Well, we can trust, and wait. Chalk it up to the eternal mysteries and keep our focus on all the times we do see justice break through. That’s important, to keep our focus on where God is. And we can go deeper, to try to understand better what Jesus was saying. What if we flip it? What if the God figure in the parable isn’t the judge, but the widow? If we might be any character in a parable, so could God.
How does it change our interpretation if we see God as that helpless widow? We could say that, in giving us free will, God has stayed his own power, and relies on us to choose justice over self-gratification. In the Bible, we see God over and over and over again asking his chosen ones to turn back to him, to righteousness and truth and integrity and justice. And over and over again in those stories humankind refuses.
What if God, persistent as that widow, is asking us to bring justice into being? What if, rather than waiting for justice to come from “on high,” we engage more fully as justice-makers, participating with God in restoring all things and all people to wholeness? We may feel helpless in the face of injustices but we aren’t called to work alone. Enough people working together with God’s power can overcome any injustice.
If you were to see yourself as a maker of justice, where would you start? (Or continue…) Somewhere in your life or community, among friends or acquaintances? With a national or global issue?
And what do you see as your obstacles to bringing forth justice in that situation?
Who do you need as allies and reinforcements? List some...
Who are your adversaries – and how might you pray for them?
If this feels overwhelming, remember this: God has entrusted us with the ministry of peace and justice, and God has equipped us with gifts, colleagues – and the power of the Holy Spirit. With the power that made the universe working in us – we can bring about justice. Sooner. Together.
“Justice delayed is justice denied," goes the saying. This expression can sound tunnel-visioned, oblivious to what are in some cases competing claims, or the need for a process of culture change. Or maybe it’s always true, and those less hurried are simply benefiting more from the status quo. “It ain’t that simple,” they say. But to those waiting for justice, it ain’t that complicated.
After telling how the judge is eventually worn down by the widow’s persistence, Jesus says: “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them.”
My first reaction is, “Quickly? Not delayed? How many have cried out to God day and night, century after century, and still the powerful dominate the weak, and the rich hoard resources that keep others poor, and the corrupt steal justice from the powerless..." What do we do with these words?
Well, we can trust, and wait. Chalk it up to the eternal mysteries and keep our focus on all the times we do see justice break through. That’s important, to keep our focus on where God is. And we can go deeper, to try to understand better what Jesus was saying. What if we flip it? What if the God figure in the parable isn’t the judge, but the widow? If we might be any character in a parable, so could God.
How does it change our interpretation if we see God as that helpless widow? We could say that, in giving us free will, God has stayed his own power, and relies on us to choose justice over self-gratification. In the Bible, we see God over and over and over again asking his chosen ones to turn back to him, to righteousness and truth and integrity and justice. And over and over again in those stories humankind refuses.
What if God, persistent as that widow, is asking us to bring justice into being? What if, rather than waiting for justice to come from “on high,” we engage more fully as justice-makers, participating with God in restoring all things and all people to wholeness? We may feel helpless in the face of injustices but we aren’t called to work alone. Enough people working together with God’s power can overcome any injustice.
If you were to see yourself as a maker of justice, where would you start? (Or continue…) Somewhere in your life or community, among friends or acquaintances? With a national or global issue?
And what do you see as your obstacles to bringing forth justice in that situation?
Who do you need as allies and reinforcements? List some...
Who are your adversaries – and how might you pray for them?
If this feels overwhelming, remember this: God has entrusted us with the ministry of peace and justice, and God has equipped us with gifts, colleagues – and the power of the Holy Spirit. With the power that made the universe working in us – we can bring about justice. Sooner. Together.
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.
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.
12-10-21 - 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.
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.
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