There are exercises for training care-givers, to help them better understand the experience of given populations. People working with the sight-impaired don light-proof blindfolds and try to get around; people who serve the infirm are told to navigate spaces with canes or wheelchairs.
I don’t know if any such exercises exist to better understand the world as a child experiences it, but I wonder what we’d do to recover that way of seeing. Certainly we’d have to get several feet closer to the floor, and maybe be told to regard every object as a potential plaything, and be encouraged to ask every question that comes to mind.
We need to be able to get back into our “child mind” if we want to be serious about our faith journey, at least according to Jesus: “Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”
This comment may well have shocked the serious adults to whom he addressed it. His own disciples had been busy shooing away the children who were crowding around Jesus, and he told them to let the children come. But to go further and say we needed to emulate them if we wanted to enter the kingdom of God – that’s a radical notion.
It means we may need to embrace dependency instead of going it alone. It means we need to be able to believe in things that we cannot see – and even see them, as our faith vision develops. It means we come to expect joy and playfulness, and cultivate our capacity for wonder. It means we ask our questions, and cry when we're sad, and act silly, and sit down for stories that capture our fancy. And we share these good things with each other.
How much of that applies to your experience of church and Christian community? How might we adapt our circumstances to foster this way of being?
I’ve been talking about how we might perceive the Kingdom as children do. But Jesus didn’t say “perceive,” he said “receive.” We must become receptors if we are to truly accept God’s gifts, even God’s calls to action. When action and giving outweigh the receiving, we find ourselves stuck outside the threshold of God-Life, yearning to get in.
That’s kind of where those children were who wanted to get close to Jesus. And here’s what he did: And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.
If we come to Him like that, he will offer us no less.
A spiritual reflection to encourage and inspire you as you go about your day. Just as many plants need water daily, so do our root systems if they are to sustain us as we eat, work, exercise, rest, play, talk, interact with people we know, don't know, those in between - and the creation in which we live our lives.
10-1-15 - Owners of the Kingdom
The handlers were getting edgy. The candidate was on a tight schedule, with influential people to meet, speeches to give, a movement to advance. There was no time for kissing babies and picking up kids. Security risk, germ risk, not to mention the danger of being upstaged… “Keep the kids away!” they muttered into their walkie-talkies. But the candidate had other ideas:
People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.
I can imagine this is how Jesus’ disciples might be depicted if we updated this story to today. (In fact, I think I heard something like this did happen during Pope Francis’ visit... here is a similar moment, and another from last year here). It does make for great copy – the high and exalted stooping to the lowly and insignificant.
But Jesus was up to something much bigger than a great photo op. He didn’t only say to let the children come – he said that they, in fact, have the highest status of all: to them belongs the Kingdom of God. That makes them owners, these little ones who by law could own nothing, earn nothing, achieve nothing, who were completely dependent upon others. These are the owners of the Kingdom.
What does that say about other insignificant kinds of people? Is Jesus saying the Kingdom also belongs to the destitute, the diseased, the depressed, the disowned - and us, on our worst days? Or is there something peculiar to children that elevates them to this status? Is it in fact their very dependence that makes them so important?
Is Jesus waiting for us to lay down all our products and projects so that our hands are open to receive the whole thing, the fullness of God-Life?
People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.
I can imagine this is how Jesus’ disciples might be depicted if we updated this story to today. (In fact, I think I heard something like this did happen during Pope Francis’ visit... here is a similar moment, and another from last year here). It does make for great copy – the high and exalted stooping to the lowly and insignificant.
But Jesus was up to something much bigger than a great photo op. He didn’t only say to let the children come – he said that they, in fact, have the highest status of all: to them belongs the Kingdom of God. That makes them owners, these little ones who by law could own nothing, earn nothing, achieve nothing, who were completely dependent upon others. These are the owners of the Kingdom.
What does that say about other insignificant kinds of people? Is Jesus saying the Kingdom also belongs to the destitute, the diseased, the depressed, the disowned - and us, on our worst days? Or is there something peculiar to children that elevates them to this status? Is it in fact their very dependence that makes them so important?
Is Jesus waiting for us to lay down all our products and projects so that our hands are open to receive the whole thing, the fullness of God-Life?
9-30-15 - Law / Grace
Want to see people get legalistic in a hurry? Bring up a “life-style” issue. It even happened around Jesus. In his remarks on marriage, divorce and adultery, we hear the Law emphasized more strenuously than with many of his teachings. He says that the Torah, the Law of Moses, provided a way for men to divorce their wives, but implies that this “out” was only given because of they were so incapable of love. Talking to his disciples in the privacy of the house, he does not offer any wiggle room.
To which we might reply, “Yeah, well, he wasn’t married, was he?”
No, we don’t get to play that card. Jesus knew the human condition well enough, and no doubt had enough married friends to understand how challenging it is for two people to put their lives together for a lifetime. Yet he offers little grace in his teaching on divorce, he who was so forgiving of people who squandered their gifts in loose living, and even those who hoarded wealth and cheated others.
This is one reason it’s never advisable to “proof text,” to find one passage of scripture to back up a position. Chances are another passage will contradict it or provide a broader context in which multiple interpretations can thrive. I think there’s a reason Jesus said these things to his disciples in private rather than to the general public – perhaps he was holding up for those who were leaders, who represented his movement, an ideal standard which he knew people less committed to God-Life might not manage.
That’s a big, wild guess, of course, if a comforting notion. The truth is, I don’t know why Jesus said these things, and why he didn’t say them publicly. What I do know is that the Law is God-given and beautiful – and can crush the life out of us if misused. The Law (at least in abstract) is God’s pure gift, given to impure human vessels who cannot live it fully. This puts us in rather a bind, as Paul wrote about so movingly in Romans 7 (you might read 7 and 8 in full...)
Realizing we cannot meet the demands of God's Law can inspire different responses:
Lawlessness leads to highly subjective ethics and often to licentiousness and heartache.
Legalism distorts God’s gift and focuses us on penalties, and then we lose sight of the Spirit and often find ourselves trying to control other people’s behavior more than our own.
Living in the light of God’s amazing grace leads us to freedom, fostering an environment of love and forgiveness in which people can find themselves, find God, and move toward wholeness. It is only in relationship with God that we are enabled to live the Law as God intended.
If the Law of the Lord is to revive the soul, as the Psalmist wrote, it must be leavened with Grace, described here by a modern-day writer of psalms. Where do you spend your time?
To which we might reply, “Yeah, well, he wasn’t married, was he?”
No, we don’t get to play that card. Jesus knew the human condition well enough, and no doubt had enough married friends to understand how challenging it is for two people to put their lives together for a lifetime. Yet he offers little grace in his teaching on divorce, he who was so forgiving of people who squandered their gifts in loose living, and even those who hoarded wealth and cheated others.
This is one reason it’s never advisable to “proof text,” to find one passage of scripture to back up a position. Chances are another passage will contradict it or provide a broader context in which multiple interpretations can thrive. I think there’s a reason Jesus said these things to his disciples in private rather than to the general public – perhaps he was holding up for those who were leaders, who represented his movement, an ideal standard which he knew people less committed to God-Life might not manage.
That’s a big, wild guess, of course, if a comforting notion. The truth is, I don’t know why Jesus said these things, and why he didn’t say them publicly. What I do know is that the Law is God-given and beautiful – and can crush the life out of us if misused. The Law (at least in abstract) is God’s pure gift, given to impure human vessels who cannot live it fully. This puts us in rather a bind, as Paul wrote about so movingly in Romans 7 (you might read 7 and 8 in full...)
Realizing we cannot meet the demands of God's Law can inspire different responses:
- We can give up, and toss it out altogether, living by our own instincts and reason.
- We can bear down harder, trying to legislate and control what the heart doesn’t seem capable of doing willingly.
- We can carry its standards in tension with the forgiveness of the loving and merciful God we’ve been taught to worship, and invite the transforming power of the Holy Spirit to help us live into it. Gee, which one do you think I favor?
Lawlessness leads to highly subjective ethics and often to licentiousness and heartache.
Legalism distorts God’s gift and focuses us on penalties, and then we lose sight of the Spirit and often find ourselves trying to control other people’s behavior more than our own.
Living in the light of God’s amazing grace leads us to freedom, fostering an environment of love and forgiveness in which people can find themselves, find God, and move toward wholeness. It is only in relationship with God that we are enabled to live the Law as God intended.
If the Law of the Lord is to revive the soul, as the Psalmist wrote, it must be leavened with Grace, described here by a modern-day writer of psalms. Where do you spend your time?
9-29-15 - Holy Matrimony
When Jesus is asked whether or not divorce is permissible for the faithful, he goes to the Scriptures, quoting Genesis: But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two but one flesh."
Sounds simple enough. It’s the ideal of what marriage is. Much more than a change of life status and condition, marriage in the Judeo-Christian view is the creation of a new person, if you will, an entity crafted from the union of the two partners. It’s a beautiful ideal, and maddeningly difficult to live into, especially in a culture that understand marriage as the consummation of romantic love. And to the question of whether only two people of different gender can become “one flesh,” the bible is silent, as it is on abortion, medical ethics, labor laws, and so many other issues that vex us today.
What Jesus is not silent on is the sanctity of the union once made. He answers the Pharisees in a fairly general way – "Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”
But Mark tells us that in private he has a different answer for his disciples:
Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. He said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”
Harsh words. I wonder why Jesus didn’t want to define it so starkly in public. And why this statement allows no room for situations like abuse, infidelity or neglect that might warrant dissolving a marriage. And what are we to make of our situation, in which so many marriages suffer estrangement, unfaithfulness and often break down completely?
In the Episcopal wedding liturgy, the congregation is asked, after the two parties have declared their intent, whether they will do all in their power to support these two persons in their life in Christ. This is where we have a chance to enhance the “holy” in matrimony. Whether or not we are present when a couple made their vows, we can pray for them, talk with them, tangibly support their ongoing emotional and spiritual connection. And we can counter the cultural messages about marriage with the Christian narrative – that God has made a new creation out of two distinct persons in order that they reveal Love in the world. That new creation is fragile and vulnerable – it needs nurturing and protecting.
It is not up to each couple to save their marriage – it is up to their community to support and to love them, even when they fail to stay together. If we want to see marriage upheld as holy, let’s pray and support the couples we know, for the holy comes from God, through God's people.
Sounds simple enough. It’s the ideal of what marriage is. Much more than a change of life status and condition, marriage in the Judeo-Christian view is the creation of a new person, if you will, an entity crafted from the union of the two partners. It’s a beautiful ideal, and maddeningly difficult to live into, especially in a culture that understand marriage as the consummation of romantic love. And to the question of whether only two people of different gender can become “one flesh,” the bible is silent, as it is on abortion, medical ethics, labor laws, and so many other issues that vex us today.
What Jesus is not silent on is the sanctity of the union once made. He answers the Pharisees in a fairly general way – "Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”
But Mark tells us that in private he has a different answer for his disciples:
Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. He said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”
Harsh words. I wonder why Jesus didn’t want to define it so starkly in public. And why this statement allows no room for situations like abuse, infidelity or neglect that might warrant dissolving a marriage. And what are we to make of our situation, in which so many marriages suffer estrangement, unfaithfulness and often break down completely?
In the Episcopal wedding liturgy, the congregation is asked, after the two parties have declared their intent, whether they will do all in their power to support these two persons in their life in Christ. This is where we have a chance to enhance the “holy” in matrimony. Whether or not we are present when a couple made their vows, we can pray for them, talk with them, tangibly support their ongoing emotional and spiritual connection. And we can counter the cultural messages about marriage with the Christian narrative – that God has made a new creation out of two distinct persons in order that they reveal Love in the world. That new creation is fragile and vulnerable – it needs nurturing and protecting.
It is not up to each couple to save their marriage – it is up to their community to support and to love them, even when they fail to stay together. If we want to see marriage upheld as holy, let’s pray and support the couples we know, for the holy comes from God, through God's people.
9-28-15 - Culture Wars
We land smack dab in the middle of it this week, my friend: marriage and children. Jesus weighs in – not on marriage equality because that was not a phenomenon, but on divorce, a topic on which many vocal opponents of “gay marriage” are silent, perhaps because divorce is so prevalent in our times, even among Christian evangelicals.
Let’s look at how and why he comments on the topic at all:
Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” He answered them, “What did Moses command you?” They said, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.” But Jesus said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you." (Here is this week's gospel passage.)
Jesus does not bring this subject up on his own. When he teaches, he focuses on how we can better understand God’s love and activity in our world, and how we are to treat the poor, the infirm, the elderly, the young, the alien, and those with whom we have conflict. Jesus seems little interested in laying down the law on marriage or any of the topics that claim so much time and energy in American Christianity.
But here come the Pharisees, trying to bait him again, this time on whether or not divorce is permissible. Jesus is, as always, cagey in his response. He does not answer the question himself. He points them back to the Law of Moses, “What did Moses command you?” They answer that the Law allows a man to divorce his wife. And Jesus replies that this “out” is provided to allow for “hardness of heart,” not because it is godly. (More tomorrow on what else he says …)
My question is: what does this have to do with the Gospel of Jesus Christ? What does this have to do with “the kingdom of God has come among you,” “The Word became flesh and dwelt among you full of grace and truth?” It was then, and is now, a distraction from the fullness of Jesus’ message. Yes, how we live, and the honor with which we do and do not regard the people in our lives, is definitely connected to that Good News of wholeness restored. I just don’t believe that’s where we are to focus. When we focus on human behavior, we stop looking at Jesus and proclaiming him as Lord.
I try hard not to get too drawn into the “culture war” debates. They so massively distort what the Christian enterprise is and is meant to be. They obscure the power of love and healing with which the Church has been entrusted, and trumpet legalism instead of love, law to the detriment of grace. All of revelation is important, but when the debate about these matters drowns out the Great Commandment to love God with heart, soul and mind – and your neighbor as yourself – we have a problem.
One of the religious organizations I follow has as its tagline: “Love your neighbor. No exceptions.” When somebody asks what you think about marriage, sexuality, or any other social issue of the day, you might just “pull a Jesus” and ask in return: How can we best love our neighbor on this question?
I guarantee it’ll change the quality of the conversation and invite Jesus to be smack dab in the middle of it.
Let’s look at how and why he comments on the topic at all:
Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” He answered them, “What did Moses command you?” They said, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.” But Jesus said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you." (Here is this week's gospel passage.)
Jesus does not bring this subject up on his own. When he teaches, he focuses on how we can better understand God’s love and activity in our world, and how we are to treat the poor, the infirm, the elderly, the young, the alien, and those with whom we have conflict. Jesus seems little interested in laying down the law on marriage or any of the topics that claim so much time and energy in American Christianity.
But here come the Pharisees, trying to bait him again, this time on whether or not divorce is permissible. Jesus is, as always, cagey in his response. He does not answer the question himself. He points them back to the Law of Moses, “What did Moses command you?” They answer that the Law allows a man to divorce his wife. And Jesus replies that this “out” is provided to allow for “hardness of heart,” not because it is godly. (More tomorrow on what else he says …)
My question is: what does this have to do with the Gospel of Jesus Christ? What does this have to do with “the kingdom of God has come among you,” “The Word became flesh and dwelt among you full of grace and truth?” It was then, and is now, a distraction from the fullness of Jesus’ message. Yes, how we live, and the honor with which we do and do not regard the people in our lives, is definitely connected to that Good News of wholeness restored. I just don’t believe that’s where we are to focus. When we focus on human behavior, we stop looking at Jesus and proclaiming him as Lord.
I try hard not to get too drawn into the “culture war” debates. They so massively distort what the Christian enterprise is and is meant to be. They obscure the power of love and healing with which the Church has been entrusted, and trumpet legalism instead of love, law to the detriment of grace. All of revelation is important, but when the debate about these matters drowns out the Great Commandment to love God with heart, soul and mind – and your neighbor as yourself – we have a problem.
One of the religious organizations I follow has as its tagline: “Love your neighbor. No exceptions.” When somebody asks what you think about marriage, sexuality, or any other social issue of the day, you might just “pull a Jesus” and ask in return: How can we best love our neighbor on this question?
I guarantee it’ll change the quality of the conversation and invite Jesus to be smack dab in the middle of it.
9-25-15 - Pass the Salt
I don’t have a clue what Jesus meant by this:
“For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it?” (The whole passage assigned for Sunday is here.)
Since he’s just talked about the fires of hell as a consequence of sin, I’m guessing that has something to do with it. Is he saying that each of us has a taste of sin’s consequences, both the immediate personal outcomes, and the separation from God that results? It is that last, more eternal consequence that Jesus has freed us from, but sometimes we feel the heat of those fires. Is that what it means to be salted with fire?
And what does that have to do with the qualities of salt? How do we maintain the saltiness of salt? (And how do we read this metaphor in an age and culture all too aware of the dangers of consuming salt…)
It is all too inscrutable to me. I could consult commentaries, but not today. So I will focus on the last sentence, which does strike me as something we can connect with:
“Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”
More than once Jesus commends “saltiness” in his followers and warns of the dangers of salt that has lost its flavor. Might we link "salt" with the power of the Holy Spirit at work in followers of Christ? Trying to live as a Christian without the active participation of the Spirit can make us dull and flavor-less, adding little to the world around us beyond vague talk of love and ordered worship in pretty buildings. Is Jesus condemning the Spirit-less religiosity he so often saw in the religious leaders of his time?
What does it mean to have salt in ourselves? It means, in part, that we feel the flow of God-Life in us; we know we’re part of an enterprise bigger than ourselves. It means we confront discouragement with prayer, and defeat with hope, sorrow with a joy borne not of circumstances, but of faith.
When do you feel the most “salty,” alive, full of flavor as a Christian? Is it in works of service or giving? In worship or prayer? When you’re reading the bible? Organizing ministries for others to live into? Talking about God’s involvement in your life? Pay attention to where you most come alive – chances are that’s where you have salt within yourself.
And when we have salt within ourselves, it’s not so hard to be at peace with one another.
“For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it?” (The whole passage assigned for Sunday is here.)
Since he’s just talked about the fires of hell as a consequence of sin, I’m guessing that has something to do with it. Is he saying that each of us has a taste of sin’s consequences, both the immediate personal outcomes, and the separation from God that results? It is that last, more eternal consequence that Jesus has freed us from, but sometimes we feel the heat of those fires. Is that what it means to be salted with fire?
And what does that have to do with the qualities of salt? How do we maintain the saltiness of salt? (And how do we read this metaphor in an age and culture all too aware of the dangers of consuming salt…)
It is all too inscrutable to me. I could consult commentaries, but not today. So I will focus on the last sentence, which does strike me as something we can connect with:
“Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”
More than once Jesus commends “saltiness” in his followers and warns of the dangers of salt that has lost its flavor. Might we link "salt" with the power of the Holy Spirit at work in followers of Christ? Trying to live as a Christian without the active participation of the Spirit can make us dull and flavor-less, adding little to the world around us beyond vague talk of love and ordered worship in pretty buildings. Is Jesus condemning the Spirit-less religiosity he so often saw in the religious leaders of his time?
What does it mean to have salt in ourselves? It means, in part, that we feel the flow of God-Life in us; we know we’re part of an enterprise bigger than ourselves. It means we confront discouragement with prayer, and defeat with hope, sorrow with a joy borne not of circumstances, but of faith.
When do you feel the most “salty,” alive, full of flavor as a Christian? Is it in works of service or giving? In worship or prayer? When you’re reading the bible? Organizing ministries for others to live into? Talking about God’s involvement in your life? Pay attention to where you most come alive – chances are that’s where you have salt within yourself.
And when we have salt within ourselves, it’s not so hard to be at peace with one another.
9-24-15 - Grand Guignol Gospel?
It is somewhat ironic to hear the man who healed the maimed, the lame and the blind suggest people put themselves in such states, but here it is, one of the toughest of all of Jesus’ tough teachings:
“If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.”
It is a challenge to find the Good News in this “Grand Guignol” of Jesus sayings. This is a violent wake-up call to be clear about our priorities, to be realistic about the consequences of sin – and to put God-Life first, no matter what. It is short on the message of grace and forgiveness, and in its stark clarity offers a kind of tough love we might recognize from other spheres.
Think, for instance, what we might say to an addict one bender away from losing her life. In such light, this language doesn’t look so harsh. Or an oncologist telling a patient that his only hope is to cut out a tumor, even at the risk of compromising healthy tissue. We wouldn’t think twice. Often we fail to connect sin with such dire consequences in our lives – surely we have time to shape up, ask forgiveness, we think; we can get straightened out tomorrow. One more day of gossip or petty lies or gluttony won’t make that great a difference, right?
If we’re willing to take sin seriously without obsessing about it, there are many more gentle measures we can take before it becomes a cancer in our lives, or a will-weakening addiction. We can adopt a practice of regular confession, not so we wallow in our sins, but to shine the light of truth upon ourselves and recognize the often unseen effects of sinful tendencies in us. We can practice forgiving others regularly, so that we don’t let resentment and judgment build up. We can cultivate compassion, which allows us to look past the damage we do or endure, and pray for the wounded person behind the actions.
Are there patterns, habits, even people in your life whom you would do well to cut off, cut out, so that you can live in greater freedom and purpose? Are there parts of yourself that need to be cut away? I was once praying about an over-dependency I had, and got an image of this big, bloody, tuberous tumor in a chest cavity, attached by numerous blood vessels, which I had to let Jesus remove and heal. Yuck – and Alleluia.
We can trust ourselves to the Great Physician, the surgeon who knows how to cut cleanly, the healer who knows how to apply balm to our wounds and restore us to wholeness.
“If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.”
It is a challenge to find the Good News in this “Grand Guignol” of Jesus sayings. This is a violent wake-up call to be clear about our priorities, to be realistic about the consequences of sin – and to put God-Life first, no matter what. It is short on the message of grace and forgiveness, and in its stark clarity offers a kind of tough love we might recognize from other spheres.
Think, for instance, what we might say to an addict one bender away from losing her life. In such light, this language doesn’t look so harsh. Or an oncologist telling a patient that his only hope is to cut out a tumor, even at the risk of compromising healthy tissue. We wouldn’t think twice. Often we fail to connect sin with such dire consequences in our lives – surely we have time to shape up, ask forgiveness, we think; we can get straightened out tomorrow. One more day of gossip or petty lies or gluttony won’t make that great a difference, right?
If we’re willing to take sin seriously without obsessing about it, there are many more gentle measures we can take before it becomes a cancer in our lives, or a will-weakening addiction. We can adopt a practice of regular confession, not so we wallow in our sins, but to shine the light of truth upon ourselves and recognize the often unseen effects of sinful tendencies in us. We can practice forgiving others regularly, so that we don’t let resentment and judgment build up. We can cultivate compassion, which allows us to look past the damage we do or endure, and pray for the wounded person behind the actions.
Are there patterns, habits, even people in your life whom you would do well to cut off, cut out, so that you can live in greater freedom and purpose? Are there parts of yourself that need to be cut away? I was once praying about an over-dependency I had, and got an image of this big, bloody, tuberous tumor in a chest cavity, attached by numerous blood vessels, which I had to let Jesus remove and heal. Yuck – and Alleluia.
We can trust ourselves to the Great Physician, the surgeon who knows how to cut cleanly, the healer who knows how to apply balm to our wounds and restore us to wholeness.
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