You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When I was just out of college, my parents lived in Turkey. I spent two months there one summer. On one driving trip to the Black Sea coast, after lots of sight-seeing, I wanted to go to the beach. We checked out several before finding one that was secluded and beautiful. Yet no sooner had we settled on the sand and gone for a swim than a group of young men trooped down the hill and set up nearby. I was very self-conscious, and hoped they’d leave us alone. No such luck – soon one came over and began talking to my father in broken English. It turns out they were soldiers on a day off, and they were making lunch, and would we please join them. I shot my dad a look that said, “Please, no! I do not want to eat with a bunch of strange men we can’t even communicate with! In my bathing suit!” He did try a few times to decline, but Turks are known for their hospitality and are hard to say no to… next thing I knew we had gotten up and gone over to their little camp.
What a lot of activity there was: a couple of guys had a fire going and were preparing to grill some wonderful spiced meat köfte on skewers. Another guy was chopping cucumbers into a pan of lettuce and tomatoes. And there were several loaves of warm ekmek, wonderful Turkish bread. Though we protested that we’d just had lunch, heaping plates were presented to us anyway. We ate. I cannot remember ever having food as good as that. It has remained in my memory as one of the great feasts of my life, social awkwardness, language gaps and all.
That unexpected feast has also stayed with me as an icon of the feasts God prepares for us to stumble onto every day of our lives. No one in that crowd of over 5000 that Jesus and his disciples fed was there for food – they had come for healing, for hope, for wisdom, maybe to catch a glimpse of this Jesus guy, to tell folks at home they’d been there. But God had a feast in store for them.
God has feasts in store for us as well, lots of them. They might be large or small, material or spiritual or both. We have feasts of conversation and books and music, good work and hopefulness. And of course many feasts of food, one of the best ways for us to experience the goodness and abundant generosity of God. Every morning these days I cut into a plump, ripe, perfectly sweet peach, sprinkle a few luscious blueberries on top, and enjoy a feast. Whatever perceived “not-enough-ness” I may encounter later in the day, I have been reminded from the start that God is in the feasting business. As the prophet Isaiah spoke long ago:
Thus says the Lord: "Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.” (Isaiah 55:1-2; also for this Sunday)
What are you spending money on and laboring for that does not satisfy? This dislocating time offers an invitation to shift our priorities. What feasts have you declined, or not recognized until later?
Do you associate God with feasting or with fasting? How might we better balance the two?
We will live differently if we expect feasts. We will give differently if we expect feasts.
We will love differently, and perhaps even allow ourselves to be loved more deeply.
7-30-20 - God's "Enough"
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
No host wants to carry full platters back to the kitchen after a meal – that would suggest that the food was not so good. At the same time, empty serving dishes hint that we did not make enough; leftovers are evidence there was enough and to spare. Abundance. So it was that day of Jesus’ Big Picnic: “And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.”
How often do we find ourselves offering the bare minimum, when God has blessed us with abundance? Vats and vats of water turned to finest wine, thousands fed on what seemed much too little, yet yielding baskets of leftovers. I can just hear Jesus saying to his followers, “Get it? Do you understand how things work in the Life of God?”
I do believe abundance is a principle of God-Life, one we are invited to get used to, even expect. I have also found that sometimes God’s “enough” is just enough, with not a lot to spare. Church budgets with projected deficits come out close to even, but there are no windfall bequests. Just enough people show up to do a work project to get it done. So often, things just work, and there is enough, more than expected, but just enough, not what we'd call abundance.
It is always risky to try to extrapolate the plans of God from our small experiences, but perhaps In these situations, the provision of way too much would invite us to complacency, where just “enough” keeps us faithful and alert. Or maybe we crave more than God thinks we need. Whether enough or more than enough, one thing I’m pretty sure of is that God is not in the business of scarcity.
What do you fear you will not have enough of? What do you have just enough of? Where do you see abundance? Exploring these questions can be a good spiritual diagnostic exercise, giving us clues as to where our trust in God is weak and where it is stronger. Then we can invite the Spirit to build us up where we need it, and pray for the grace to let go where we’re clutching.
A similar examination of how and when and to whom we find ourselves giving abundantly, and where we give with a tight fist, or not at all, provides a helpful inventory of our relationships and anxiety levels. What circumstances prompt you to give generously?
Whether we have leftovers for a week or just enough to cover our needs, it is all provision from the One who made us. As we grow in recognizing and appreciating God's gifts, we can live and love with the kind of abundance that is God's hallmark. As we receive, so let us give. As Jesus said, "A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Luke 6:38)
No host wants to carry full platters back to the kitchen after a meal – that would suggest that the food was not so good. At the same time, empty serving dishes hint that we did not make enough; leftovers are evidence there was enough and to spare. Abundance. So it was that day of Jesus’ Big Picnic: “And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.”
How often do we find ourselves offering the bare minimum, when God has blessed us with abundance? Vats and vats of water turned to finest wine, thousands fed on what seemed much too little, yet yielding baskets of leftovers. I can just hear Jesus saying to his followers, “Get it? Do you understand how things work in the Life of God?”
I do believe abundance is a principle of God-Life, one we are invited to get used to, even expect. I have also found that sometimes God’s “enough” is just enough, with not a lot to spare. Church budgets with projected deficits come out close to even, but there are no windfall bequests. Just enough people show up to do a work project to get it done. So often, things just work, and there is enough, more than expected, but just enough, not what we'd call abundance.
It is always risky to try to extrapolate the plans of God from our small experiences, but perhaps In these situations, the provision of way too much would invite us to complacency, where just “enough” keeps us faithful and alert. Or maybe we crave more than God thinks we need. Whether enough or more than enough, one thing I’m pretty sure of is that God is not in the business of scarcity.
What do you fear you will not have enough of? What do you have just enough of? Where do you see abundance? Exploring these questions can be a good spiritual diagnostic exercise, giving us clues as to where our trust in God is weak and where it is stronger. Then we can invite the Spirit to build us up where we need it, and pray for the grace to let go where we’re clutching.
A similar examination of how and when and to whom we find ourselves giving abundantly, and where we give with a tight fist, or not at all, provides a helpful inventory of our relationships and anxiety levels. What circumstances prompt you to give generously?
Whether we have leftovers for a week or just enough to cover our needs, it is all provision from the One who made us. As we grow in recognizing and appreciating God's gifts, we can live and love with the kind of abundance that is God's hallmark. As we receive, so let us give. As Jesus said, "A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” (Luke 6:38)
7-29-20 - How To Feed a Crowd
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Today is the feast day of Mary and Martha of Bethany, who were among Jesus’ closest friends. It is sweet irony to celebrate these sisters, one a paragon of spiritual devotion, the other a champion hostess, the same day that we study Jesus and his disciples challenged with feeding a crowd numbering in the thousands, with very little food and no planning to speak of. But Jesus channeled some Martha energy and got it organized:
Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled.
Sure, he had the power of God working through him. He also had a savvy grasp of logistics and crowd control. He had people sit down; we’re often much more receptive when seated. Other accounts tell us that he had people sit in groups of 50 and 100 – now we’re talking manageable groups. We can imagine feeding 50 or 100. Then Jesus took what was on hand, the five loaves and two fish, looked up to heaven – presumably in prayer, a prayer of blessing, a prayer of thanksgiving for what was about to happen – then blessed the food and broke it up.
And here’s how it got to the people: he gave it to the disciples, and they gave it to the crowds. Jesus didn’t personally feed anyone that day – the disciples did. And as they did, they kept having enough. It doesn’t say that Jesus prayed up a mountain of bread and fish, from which they refilled their baskets. It just says they gave it out, and kept not running out. “And all ate and were filled.”
So often we think something is impossible, insurmountable. Well, if God says it is possible, and if we sense God inviting us to bear God’s power into, say, entrenched racism, a global pandemic, peace in the Middle East and on our own streets, we don’t have to know how it will work; we don’t need to see the whole picture from the start. We can step out in faith, doing the next manageable task, and then the next one, trusting the provision of the One who sent us. God already has the whole thing worked out – and for some reason is waiting for us to carry the baskets, hand out the food, bind up the wounds, help to transform structures of injustice.
Is that a lot of pressure for us? Yes and no. Yes – I do believe that if every true Christ-follower in the world helped to feed others, no one would go hungry. And if more of us stood up to violence and injustice, more people would live in safety. The challenges are only insurmountable because so few do take action. That being said, it’s NOT a lot of pressure, because it isn’t our work – it’s God’s work. We simply make ourselves available. We don’t have to engineer it.
Given what’s going on the world this year, this week, I can hear how “pie in the sky” I sound. I also believe it’s true. So I must ask each day, “Lord, who do you want me to feed? What do you want me to be doing about racial equity?”
What challenge do you sense, which you feel is way beyond your capacity? Is God asking you to do something about it? Then God will show you what resources you already have, and provide what’s lacking. Spend some prayer time on that one today. Then take it, bless it, break it, and give it away.
Today is the feast day of Mary and Martha of Bethany, who were among Jesus’ closest friends. It is sweet irony to celebrate these sisters, one a paragon of spiritual devotion, the other a champion hostess, the same day that we study Jesus and his disciples challenged with feeding a crowd numbering in the thousands, with very little food and no planning to speak of. But Jesus channeled some Martha energy and got it organized:
Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled.
Sure, he had the power of God working through him. He also had a savvy grasp of logistics and crowd control. He had people sit down; we’re often much more receptive when seated. Other accounts tell us that he had people sit in groups of 50 and 100 – now we’re talking manageable groups. We can imagine feeding 50 or 100. Then Jesus took what was on hand, the five loaves and two fish, looked up to heaven – presumably in prayer, a prayer of blessing, a prayer of thanksgiving for what was about to happen – then blessed the food and broke it up.
And here’s how it got to the people: he gave it to the disciples, and they gave it to the crowds. Jesus didn’t personally feed anyone that day – the disciples did. And as they did, they kept having enough. It doesn’t say that Jesus prayed up a mountain of bread and fish, from which they refilled their baskets. It just says they gave it out, and kept not running out. “And all ate and were filled.”
So often we think something is impossible, insurmountable. Well, if God says it is possible, and if we sense God inviting us to bear God’s power into, say, entrenched racism, a global pandemic, peace in the Middle East and on our own streets, we don’t have to know how it will work; we don’t need to see the whole picture from the start. We can step out in faith, doing the next manageable task, and then the next one, trusting the provision of the One who sent us. God already has the whole thing worked out – and for some reason is waiting for us to carry the baskets, hand out the food, bind up the wounds, help to transform structures of injustice.
Is that a lot of pressure for us? Yes and no. Yes – I do believe that if every true Christ-follower in the world helped to feed others, no one would go hungry. And if more of us stood up to violence and injustice, more people would live in safety. The challenges are only insurmountable because so few do take action. That being said, it’s NOT a lot of pressure, because it isn’t our work – it’s God’s work. We simply make ourselves available. We don’t have to engineer it.
Given what’s going on the world this year, this week, I can hear how “pie in the sky” I sound. I also believe it’s true. So I must ask each day, “Lord, who do you want me to feed? What do you want me to be doing about racial equity?”
What challenge do you sense, which you feel is way beyond your capacity? Is God asking you to do something about it? Then God will show you what resources you already have, and provide what’s lacking. Spend some prayer time on that one today. Then take it, bless it, break it, and give it away.
7-28-20 - Nothing But...
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Many of us have been challenged at times to provide a meal for guests on very short notice. It can be fun to see what we can whip up from food we have around. But well over 5,000 people out in a field? I think we’d throw up our hands, just as Jesus’ disciples did. Aware that the people had been there all day, and that crowds and hunger can be a risky combination, hey sensibly suggested Jesus suspend the healing and teaching, and send people off to eat:
When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.”
In other gospel versions of this story – and it is one of the few that appear in all four gospels – Jesus tells the disciples to assess their resources before concluding that they don’t have enough. In Matthew’s account, they must already have done that, for they are quick with the answer, and give it in the negative: “We have nothing here but…” Nothing but. The “but” belies the “nothing,” but obviously they consider the assets so inadequate to the need as to count for nought.
What is your “default setting” – that there is not enough, or that plenty is possible? Are there areas in your life where you are so sure you don’t have enough, that you don’t even consider the possibility of God providing? I’m pretty trusting about finances, not so much when it comes to success.
Where have you known scarcity? Where have you known abundance? When we assume scarcity, that’s often what we experience. And when we assume plenty, even if we can’t imagine from where it might come, we more often find that.
Today in prayer let’s bring before God those places in our life where we experience “not-enough-ness” and those where we experience plenty. These might include relationships we’re in, work we do, gifts we want or have, use or don’t use. Maybe envision a bunch of baskets, some empty, some full. Put labels on them in your imagination. Give thanks for the full ones. Invite God to transform your relationship to the empty ones – maybe they got empty at one point in your life, and you’re afraid to imagine them filled. Or maybe all your baskets are full. What does the Spirit say about these things/feelings/people?
What if instead of “we have nothing but...,” the disciples had said, “Well, we have five loaves and two fish…” It still might not seem like enough, but putting it that way gives room for hope. “Nothing but...” closes the conversation. Unless, of course, you’re talking to Jesus, who said, “With God all things are possible,” and then demonstrated the truth of that crazy statement in the most amazing way.
Many of us have been challenged at times to provide a meal for guests on very short notice. It can be fun to see what we can whip up from food we have around. But well over 5,000 people out in a field? I think we’d throw up our hands, just as Jesus’ disciples did. Aware that the people had been there all day, and that crowds and hunger can be a risky combination, hey sensibly suggested Jesus suspend the healing and teaching, and send people off to eat:
When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.”
In other gospel versions of this story – and it is one of the few that appear in all four gospels – Jesus tells the disciples to assess their resources before concluding that they don’t have enough. In Matthew’s account, they must already have done that, for they are quick with the answer, and give it in the negative: “We have nothing here but…” Nothing but. The “but” belies the “nothing,” but obviously they consider the assets so inadequate to the need as to count for nought.
What is your “default setting” – that there is not enough, or that plenty is possible? Are there areas in your life where you are so sure you don’t have enough, that you don’t even consider the possibility of God providing? I’m pretty trusting about finances, not so much when it comes to success.
Where have you known scarcity? Where have you known abundance? When we assume scarcity, that’s often what we experience. And when we assume plenty, even if we can’t imagine from where it might come, we more often find that.
Today in prayer let’s bring before God those places in our life where we experience “not-enough-ness” and those where we experience plenty. These might include relationships we’re in, work we do, gifts we want or have, use or don’t use. Maybe envision a bunch of baskets, some empty, some full. Put labels on them in your imagination. Give thanks for the full ones. Invite God to transform your relationship to the empty ones – maybe they got empty at one point in your life, and you’re afraid to imagine them filled. Or maybe all your baskets are full. What does the Spirit say about these things/feelings/people?
What if instead of “we have nothing but...,” the disciples had said, “Well, we have five loaves and two fish…” It still might not seem like enough, but putting it that way gives room for hope. “Nothing but...” closes the conversation. Unless, of course, you’re talking to Jesus, who said, “With God all things are possible,” and then demonstrated the truth of that crazy statement in the most amazing way.
7-27-20 - Godly Interruptions
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Jesus needed a little time off, a little time for retreat and prayer, and for grief. He had just learned of the brutal death of John the Baptist, beheaded at the whim of a party girl and her vengeful mother. So he planned a spiritual getaway. He was modeling excellent self-care, as we say in clergy circles. But even Jesus’ plans can be interrupted:
Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.
I wonder if his heart sank as the boat approached his “deserted place” and he saw it teeming with people, people who had walked the long way around the lake to get to where he was going to be because they wanted to be healed. If he thought, “Darn, there goes my quiet time…” or, “Sorry, it’s my day off, and I really need one this week,” or “I’m grieving and I need a time out…” the Gospel writers don’t tell us. He saw the crowd, he had compassion, and began an impromptu healing service that lasted all day.
Are we to be always ready to give ourselves away when people need us? That’s a good recipe for burn-out – but is burn-out even an operative principle in the Realm of God? Good personal boundaries are important, of course – and perhaps we're best off when we allow the Holy Spirit to set those boundaries for us. Jesus had an impeccable (literally) sense of self, and did not allow himself to be manipulated by the needs of others. But he did respond to needs as led by the Spirit.
And when he gave, he did not give from his own human resources. He allowed himself to be a conduit for the power and love of the Spirit. Yes, he felt tired at times, and there was an occasion when he said he felt power go out of him when someone touched him for healing. But for the most part, he demonstrated extraordinary stamina, preaching, teaching, healing, on the move all the time.
That is his gift to us, we who are united with him in baptism. When we are running on Holy Spirit power, we know when to stop and talk, when to keep moving, when to offer healing, when to act on our dreams. And when we’re on Spirit power, our energies are renewed and replenished. I can always tell when I’ve gone back to Kate-Power – it runs down, and I get discouraged and testy. Holy Spirit Power jazzes me up and energizes me, even when my to-do list has been disrupted.
How about you? Can you think of a time when your plans were interrupted by something that turned out to be ministry? Did you make the decision to go with the interruption rather than fighting it, or did you ignore the ministry opportunity in order to stay focused on your plans? How did you decide? How did it feel?
Today let’s sit quietly in prayer, coming into God’s presence with thanksgiving, and asking the Spirit to lead us to godly interruptions. Let’s ask the Spirit to fill us, to increase our capacity to carry God’s power and insight and love and peace and strength – other people need it.
We might say it is our mission as agents of healing and restoration in the name of Jesus to bring people to where he is going to be. We don’t always know where that is, but he did give us a few clues: in the Word, in the bread and wine at worship, in the poor and those in need – and, indeed, everywhere two or three of us gather in his name. Bring your friends – Jesus will be rowing up any minute now.
Jesus needed a little time off, a little time for retreat and prayer, and for grief. He had just learned of the brutal death of John the Baptist, beheaded at the whim of a party girl and her vengeful mother. So he planned a spiritual getaway. He was modeling excellent self-care, as we say in clergy circles. But even Jesus’ plans can be interrupted:
Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.
I wonder if his heart sank as the boat approached his “deserted place” and he saw it teeming with people, people who had walked the long way around the lake to get to where he was going to be because they wanted to be healed. If he thought, “Darn, there goes my quiet time…” or, “Sorry, it’s my day off, and I really need one this week,” or “I’m grieving and I need a time out…” the Gospel writers don’t tell us. He saw the crowd, he had compassion, and began an impromptu healing service that lasted all day.
Are we to be always ready to give ourselves away when people need us? That’s a good recipe for burn-out – but is burn-out even an operative principle in the Realm of God? Good personal boundaries are important, of course – and perhaps we're best off when we allow the Holy Spirit to set those boundaries for us. Jesus had an impeccable (literally) sense of self, and did not allow himself to be manipulated by the needs of others. But he did respond to needs as led by the Spirit.
And when he gave, he did not give from his own human resources. He allowed himself to be a conduit for the power and love of the Spirit. Yes, he felt tired at times, and there was an occasion when he said he felt power go out of him when someone touched him for healing. But for the most part, he demonstrated extraordinary stamina, preaching, teaching, healing, on the move all the time.
That is his gift to us, we who are united with him in baptism. When we are running on Holy Spirit power, we know when to stop and talk, when to keep moving, when to offer healing, when to act on our dreams. And when we’re on Spirit power, our energies are renewed and replenished. I can always tell when I’ve gone back to Kate-Power – it runs down, and I get discouraged and testy. Holy Spirit Power jazzes me up and energizes me, even when my to-do list has been disrupted.
How about you? Can you think of a time when your plans were interrupted by something that turned out to be ministry? Did you make the decision to go with the interruption rather than fighting it, or did you ignore the ministry opportunity in order to stay focused on your plans? How did you decide? How did it feel?
Today let’s sit quietly in prayer, coming into God’s presence with thanksgiving, and asking the Spirit to lead us to godly interruptions. Let’s ask the Spirit to fill us, to increase our capacity to carry God’s power and insight and love and peace and strength – other people need it.
We might say it is our mission as agents of healing and restoration in the name of Jesus to bring people to where he is going to be. We don’t always know where that is, but he did give us a few clues: in the Word, in the bread and wine at worship, in the poor and those in need – and, indeed, everywhere two or three of us gather in his name. Bring your friends – Jesus will be rowing up any minute now.
7-24-20 - The New and the Old
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Tradition. Innovation. Between these poles runs a continuum which informs many of the controversies and conflicts in churches. And corporations. And non-profits. And healthcare and politics and the arts. Where we find ourselves on that spectrum reveals much about our approach to life. It should not surprise us that Jesus approaches this tension with a both/and:
And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”
Being trained for the kingdom of heaven means lifelong learning. The phrase suggests that understanding the ways of the kingdom, the ways of God-Life, requires training; it does not come naturally to us. This is why churches invite engagement in “faith formation” activity as well as regular attendance at worship. No one can imbibe the values and ways of the Kingdom in one or two hours a week at worship. Are you in a “training program?"
It also appears that living the God-Life as Jesus revealed it involves exercising generosity, like the master of a household sharing of his treasure. And what he is to share is interesting, “what is new and what is old.” A complete orientation toward innovation can be as toxic as leaning entirely on the tradition. Yes, “Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8) AND “Behold, I am making all things new.” (Revelation 21:5) In the truth of these two statements we find our life.
What are some of the “old” gifts that you carry and offer? Things from your tradition, from your own history and upbringing, things that will never go out of style?
Who wants the old and lovely treasures you offer?
And what is in your store of new treasure? New insights, patterns, relationships, gifts, ministries, life? Are you as generous sharing the new as the old?
As Christ followers, we are called to live, even thrive in this tension between the old and the new. God is rarely in the last place we encountered him. The Spirit is always moving around the neighborhood, activating the servants of God who are open to participating in what God is up to. And what God is up to is bringing new life to tired things and people – even to tired churches.
Today for our prayer let’s take one from the Book of Common Prayer. (See, I am capable of bringing out of the storehouse something old!) This is from the ordination service:
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were being cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
“Have you understood all this?” he asked. They answered, ‘Yes.’
Tradition. Innovation. Between these poles runs a continuum which informs many of the controversies and conflicts in churches. And corporations. And non-profits. And healthcare and politics and the arts. Where we find ourselves on that spectrum reveals much about our approach to life. It should not surprise us that Jesus approaches this tension with a both/and:
And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”
Being trained for the kingdom of heaven means lifelong learning. The phrase suggests that understanding the ways of the kingdom, the ways of God-Life, requires training; it does not come naturally to us. This is why churches invite engagement in “faith formation” activity as well as regular attendance at worship. No one can imbibe the values and ways of the Kingdom in one or two hours a week at worship. Are you in a “training program?"
It also appears that living the God-Life as Jesus revealed it involves exercising generosity, like the master of a household sharing of his treasure. And what he is to share is interesting, “what is new and what is old.” A complete orientation toward innovation can be as toxic as leaning entirely on the tradition. Yes, “Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8) AND “Behold, I am making all things new.” (Revelation 21:5) In the truth of these two statements we find our life.
What are some of the “old” gifts that you carry and offer? Things from your tradition, from your own history and upbringing, things that will never go out of style?
Who wants the old and lovely treasures you offer?
And what is in your store of new treasure? New insights, patterns, relationships, gifts, ministries, life? Are you as generous sharing the new as the old?
As Christ followers, we are called to live, even thrive in this tension between the old and the new. God is rarely in the last place we encountered him. The Spirit is always moving around the neighborhood, activating the servants of God who are open to participating in what God is up to. And what God is up to is bringing new life to tired things and people – even to tired churches.
Today for our prayer let’s take one from the Book of Common Prayer. (See, I am capable of bringing out of the storehouse something old!) This is from the ordination service:
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were being cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
“Have you understood all this?” he asked. They answered, ‘Yes.’
7-23-20 - One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish
You can listen to this reflection here.
Jesus uses a diverse set of characters and settings in these short parables of the Kingdom… agriculture, baking, real estate, commerce. Now we enter the realm of fishing, a profession he must have come to know well. (Why did the carpenter never tell a recorded parable about woodworking, I wonder?) Let’s examine this one, which brings us back to those lovely Last Judgment themes:
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
On the surface, this one seems pretty clear – we can all understand sorting. This story, like the one about the weeds and the wheat, depicts that aspect of God-Life that deals with final judgment. But here we get angelic anglers, picking the good fish from the bottom feeders.
What can we see in this simple tale when we sit with it?
Well – there’s a randomness to the catching, isn’t there? The kingdom of heaven doesn’t seem to have very discerning technique – that net is thrown into the sea, the sea perhaps representing the entire creation, and any old fish can swim in. What distinguishes fish worthy of keeping from those to be tossed is not articulated in this story – it is not for us to judge our fellow fish, but to love.
Also notice that the net is not drawn ashore until it is full. New Testament writings hint that God is in no hurry to ring down the curtain on this age, preferring to wait until all have received and responded to the invitation to new life. It’s up to us to extend that invitation. That is called evangelism.
Some people do evangelism to save people from the fires of hell. I prefer to stress the joys of heaven and experience of God-Life we start to enjoy right here and now. Offering other fish a swim in the Water of Life is a gift we can share. (I’m seeing the net as a good thing in this context…)
Are you feeling fishy today? Willing to pray as a fish - which can breathe under the water, undisturbed by turbulence on the surface? Are you willing to be caught? Is there anyone whom you’d like to invite into the net with you?
Some fish, as we know, will hop right into the frying pan, no matter what invitations we extend. Many others, I pray, will choose to join us in the life-giving waters of baptism.
Jesus uses a diverse set of characters and settings in these short parables of the Kingdom… agriculture, baking, real estate, commerce. Now we enter the realm of fishing, a profession he must have come to know well. (Why did the carpenter never tell a recorded parable about woodworking, I wonder?) Let’s examine this one, which brings us back to those lovely Last Judgment themes:
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”
On the surface, this one seems pretty clear – we can all understand sorting. This story, like the one about the weeds and the wheat, depicts that aspect of God-Life that deals with final judgment. But here we get angelic anglers, picking the good fish from the bottom feeders.
What can we see in this simple tale when we sit with it?
Well – there’s a randomness to the catching, isn’t there? The kingdom of heaven doesn’t seem to have very discerning technique – that net is thrown into the sea, the sea perhaps representing the entire creation, and any old fish can swim in. What distinguishes fish worthy of keeping from those to be tossed is not articulated in this story – it is not for us to judge our fellow fish, but to love.
Also notice that the net is not drawn ashore until it is full. New Testament writings hint that God is in no hurry to ring down the curtain on this age, preferring to wait until all have received and responded to the invitation to new life. It’s up to us to extend that invitation. That is called evangelism.
Some people do evangelism to save people from the fires of hell. I prefer to stress the joys of heaven and experience of God-Life we start to enjoy right here and now. Offering other fish a swim in the Water of Life is a gift we can share. (I’m seeing the net as a good thing in this context…)
Are you feeling fishy today? Willing to pray as a fish - which can breathe under the water, undisturbed by turbulence on the surface? Are you willing to be caught? Is there anyone whom you’d like to invite into the net with you?
Some fish, as we know, will hop right into the frying pan, no matter what invitations we extend. Many others, I pray, will choose to join us in the life-giving waters of baptism.
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