“Do not be always wanting everything to turn out as you think it should, but rather as God pleases, then you will be undisturbed and thankful in your prayer.”
Abba Nilus
Prayer can be a tricky thing.
It is used for giving thanks. It is used for offering praise. It is used as an intercession on behalf of others. It has been used to invoke calamity on enemies (such as Ps. 137). It is used to ask God for what we need. And sometimes the shortest prayers are the most honest, as Anne Lamott wrote in her book, Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers.
“What do you think prayer is?” I ask people. As you would expect, I get answers that run the gamut from one end of the spectrum to the other, touching on all of the aspects of prayer I mentioned above.
One of the things I think we all forget is that prayer is how we connect with God. Prayer is how we deepen our relationship with God. Like lunch with a friend or a game of cards or time spent on the river or any number of activities that we spend with our friends, prayer is how we spend time with God. It is how we converse, how we listen, how we express our feelings, and how we grow.
A good relationship needs time for both sides to speak and time for both sides to listen. It is in the speaking that we open up to another person. It is in the speaking that we take risks and share our own thoughts with another person. It is in the listening that we learn about another person. It is in the listening that we value and honor another person.
Prayer is the activity of developing our relationship with God. The problem, though, is that, unlike any other relationship we have, God doesn't always give immediate feedback. Oftentimes it seems as if God isn't listening. But maybe that's because we are spending too much time talking and not enough time listening ourselves.
When we pray, maybe we need to not only spend more time listening ourselves, but listening TO ourselves. What do our prayers sound like? If we were God, how would we receive our prayers? Do our prayers sound like the chorus from Toby Keith, “I wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I, wanna talk about Number One”?
“But when you pray, pray like this: Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
Prayer, among other things, is a time of discernment. Where are you leading me? How can I help usher in the kingdom? Do I need a course correction? How might I best use my talents? Where do I go from here? Am I doing the right thing?
There are times when we express our doubts, anger, thanksgivings, gratitude and concerns through prayer. A good relationship with God will allow for all of that. But when we pray, in all times and in all conditions, maybe we should end our prayers with, “Your will be done.” Among other things, this might help us to remember, as Abba Nilus suggested, that we truly belong to God and are living in God's time, not ours.
Amen.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
April 8, 2015
Ayeka?
Genesis 3:9
If you were at the 10 a.m. Easter service, you will recall that my sermon tied together the second story of creation and the resurrection. In that creation story, God placed humans in a garden to work as co-creator and to till it and tend it. But the humans disobeyed God, eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and were banished from the garden before they could eat from the tree of life.
When Jesus was taken down from the cross, he was placed in a tomb in a garden. Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb only to discover it was empty. While standing there in tears, and trying to figure out where Jesus' body had been taken, she meets someone she supposes to be the gardener. It turns out that the gardener was, in fact, Jesus.
These two stories, creation and resurrection, are the beginning and the end for us. In the story of creation, humanity lives in perfect relationship in a garden created by God. But humans disobeyed God, ate fruit from the forbidden tree, and their eyes were opened. Later in the evening, as God is walking in the garden, he calls out to them, “Ayeka? Where are you?” but they hid from God because they were naked and ashamed. It was because of this breaking of trust and an inability to take responsibility for their own actions for which they were banished from the garden. This is the beginning of the story of God working throughout Scripture to mend that broken relationship.
Jesus' body was placed in a tomb in a garden. The Gospel of John records that when Mary first saw Jesus she mistook him for the gardener. On the one hand, she was wrong in thinking he was the gardener. On the other hand, she was right without knowing she was right. She met the resurrected Jesus, the Master Gardener, at that tomb in the garden. And, like God in Genesis, he called out to her.
In an online community where I participate on a regular basis, I pointed people to my Easter sermons. A person who goes by the name of Shiphrah99 made a comment that has stuck with me: “Perhaps the hiding in Eden is redeemed with refusing to hide in Gethsemane.”
Ayeka? Where are you?
In a garden we hid because we had broken our relationship with God and were naked and ashamed.
In a garden Jesus prayed, “Not my will but yours be done;” and in a garden Jesus refused to hide from God and from those who would take him away.
We are being called by name back into the garden to eat from the tree of life that is Jesus and back into a right relationship with God.
God is calling. Ayeka? Where are you?
Are we willing to answer?
Amen.
Genesis 3:9
If you were at the 10 a.m. Easter service, you will recall that my sermon tied together the second story of creation and the resurrection. In that creation story, God placed humans in a garden to work as co-creator and to till it and tend it. But the humans disobeyed God, eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and were banished from the garden before they could eat from the tree of life.
When Jesus was taken down from the cross, he was placed in a tomb in a garden. Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb only to discover it was empty. While standing there in tears, and trying to figure out where Jesus' body had been taken, she meets someone she supposes to be the gardener. It turns out that the gardener was, in fact, Jesus.
These two stories, creation and resurrection, are the beginning and the end for us. In the story of creation, humanity lives in perfect relationship in a garden created by God. But humans disobeyed God, ate fruit from the forbidden tree, and their eyes were opened. Later in the evening, as God is walking in the garden, he calls out to them, “Ayeka? Where are you?” but they hid from God because they were naked and ashamed. It was because of this breaking of trust and an inability to take responsibility for their own actions for which they were banished from the garden. This is the beginning of the story of God working throughout Scripture to mend that broken relationship.
Jesus' body was placed in a tomb in a garden. The Gospel of John records that when Mary first saw Jesus she mistook him for the gardener. On the one hand, she was wrong in thinking he was the gardener. On the other hand, she was right without knowing she was right. She met the resurrected Jesus, the Master Gardener, at that tomb in the garden. And, like God in Genesis, he called out to her.
In an online community where I participate on a regular basis, I pointed people to my Easter sermons. A person who goes by the name of Shiphrah99 made a comment that has stuck with me: “Perhaps the hiding in Eden is redeemed with refusing to hide in Gethsemane.”
Ayeka? Where are you?
In a garden we hid because we had broken our relationship with God and were naked and ashamed.
In a garden Jesus prayed, “Not my will but yours be done;” and in a garden Jesus refused to hide from God and from those who would take him away.
We are being called by name back into the garden to eat from the tree of life that is Jesus and back into a right relationship with God.
God is calling. Ayeka? Where are you?
Are we willing to answer?
Amen.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
April 1, 2015
“Lord God, whose blessed Son our Savior gave his body to be whipped and his face to be spit upon: Give us grace to accept joyfully the sufferings of the present time, confident of the glory that shall be revealed; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”
Collect for Wednesday in Holy Week
This is a hard week. We move from shouts of, “Hosanna!” and the singing of, “All glory, laud and honor, to thee Redeemer, King!” to shouts of, “Crucify him!” and the singing of, “Ride on! Ride on in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die.”
This is a hard week. We participate in the last supper, both in the form of the agapé meal on Thursday evening and in the final Communion of Holy Week.
This is a hard week. We silently watch as Jesus is taken away from us and we actively desert him, both being symbolized in the stripping of the altar.
This is a hard week. We walk the way of the cross, stopping fourteen times to pray and meditate on that event. We hear the seven last words of Christ spoken from the cross as he is dying. And we see the tomb where his lifeless body is laid, symbolized by the empty sanctuary and funeral pall over the altar.
And while this may be a hard week for us, it is nothing like the week experienced by Jesus, for we are not likely to be whipped or spat upon. What Jesus did was to take the sin of the world upon himself for our sake. He allowed himself to be whipped and spit upon for daring to give a voice to the voiceless. He allowed himself to be whipped and spit upon for having the audacity to treat all people as equal in the eyes of God. He allowed himself to be whipped and spit upon for challenging the deeply held religious beliefs of certain people. He allowed himself to be whipped and spit upon because love is greater than obedience.
There is a lot to pay attention to this week, not the least of which is our own personal acts of betrayal and denial. But as we spend time reflecting on those mighty acts, may we also look to see how we can follow in the footsteps of Jesus. How might we give voice to the voiceless? How might we work to treat all people equally? How might we challenge certain beliefs, choosing love over obedience?
Those are often unpopular stands to take, and taking those stands may cause us a certain amount of suffering. But if we choose to follow Jesus down that path, let us pray for the grace to accept that which comes our way.
May the movement of this week affect you deeply. May you have the courage to follow in the way of the cross. May you accept what comes with grace. And May you have the faith to see through to Resurrection.
Amen.
Collect for Wednesday in Holy Week
This is a hard week. We move from shouts of, “Hosanna!” and the singing of, “All glory, laud and honor, to thee Redeemer, King!” to shouts of, “Crucify him!” and the singing of, “Ride on! Ride on in majesty! In lowly pomp ride on to die.”
This is a hard week. We participate in the last supper, both in the form of the agapé meal on Thursday evening and in the final Communion of Holy Week.
This is a hard week. We silently watch as Jesus is taken away from us and we actively desert him, both being symbolized in the stripping of the altar.
This is a hard week. We walk the way of the cross, stopping fourteen times to pray and meditate on that event. We hear the seven last words of Christ spoken from the cross as he is dying. And we see the tomb where his lifeless body is laid, symbolized by the empty sanctuary and funeral pall over the altar.
And while this may be a hard week for us, it is nothing like the week experienced by Jesus, for we are not likely to be whipped or spat upon. What Jesus did was to take the sin of the world upon himself for our sake. He allowed himself to be whipped and spit upon for daring to give a voice to the voiceless. He allowed himself to be whipped and spit upon for having the audacity to treat all people as equal in the eyes of God. He allowed himself to be whipped and spit upon for challenging the deeply held religious beliefs of certain people. He allowed himself to be whipped and spit upon because love is greater than obedience.
There is a lot to pay attention to this week, not the least of which is our own personal acts of betrayal and denial. But as we spend time reflecting on those mighty acts, may we also look to see how we can follow in the footsteps of Jesus. How might we give voice to the voiceless? How might we work to treat all people equally? How might we challenge certain beliefs, choosing love over obedience?
Those are often unpopular stands to take, and taking those stands may cause us a certain amount of suffering. But if we choose to follow Jesus down that path, let us pray for the grace to accept that which comes our way.
May the movement of this week affect you deeply. May you have the courage to follow in the way of the cross. May you accept what comes with grace. And May you have the faith to see through to Resurrection.
Amen.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
March 25, 2015
“Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, “So, could you not stay awake with me one hour?”
Matthew 26:40
In the final, late night hours before his arrest, Jesus went to Gethsemane to pray for the strength to submit to God's will. Earlier in the evening he had shared the Passover meal with his disciples, modifying it into what we now know as Holy Communion, and foretold of his betrayal and the desertion of the rest of his disciples. This was a stressful and confusing time for all involved.
After they had sung the hymn, Jesus led the eleven disciples (Judas having left the group to go round up a mob) out to the Mount of Olives. Leaving eight disciples behind, Jesus took with him Peter, James and John up further to the place called Gethsemane. And then, leaving those three behind, Jesus went on further by himself to pray. He prayed to God, “if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.”
It was a stressful and confusing time for all involved; but Jesus knew his hour had come and all he asked was that his friends spend one wakeful and watchful hour with him before being condemned to death.
A week from tomorrow the Great Three Days, the Triduum, begins that runs from Maundy Thursday through Good Friday and Holy Saturday to the evening of Easter. During that time we share a meal and foot washing, participate in the final Communion before Easter and strip the altar. During that time we go to the cross with Good Friday services at Noon and 7 p.m. During that time we mourn the death of Jesus as all the world lives in the moment between death and resurrection. And finally we celebrate Christ’s victory over death.
But to get to Easter we must go through Good Friday. To get to resurrection we must go to the cross.
A week from tomorrow the Triduum begins with Maundy Thursday. Church tradition asks that we, too, stay wakeful and watchful through the night and up to Noon on Good Friday.
But Church tradition only asks us, like Jesus asked his disciples, to stay awake for one hour. Many churches have night watches at some location in their building. Many others ask their faithful members to stay awake in prayer at a location convenient to them. I ask you, the faithful members of St. Luke's, to remain awake for one hour at some point during the hours from the evening of Maundy Thursday to Noon on Good Friday.
There is a sign up sheet on the kitchen door for people to commit to one hour of wakeful watchfulness and prayer. Will you commit to staying awake with Jesus for one hour that night? Will you pray with Jesus for the strength to do God's will?
In the words of a favorite hymn: Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of this hour.
May you have a blessed and meaningful Holy Week.
Amen.
Matthew 26:40
In the final, late night hours before his arrest, Jesus went to Gethsemane to pray for the strength to submit to God's will. Earlier in the evening he had shared the Passover meal with his disciples, modifying it into what we now know as Holy Communion, and foretold of his betrayal and the desertion of the rest of his disciples. This was a stressful and confusing time for all involved.
After they had sung the hymn, Jesus led the eleven disciples (Judas having left the group to go round up a mob) out to the Mount of Olives. Leaving eight disciples behind, Jesus took with him Peter, James and John up further to the place called Gethsemane. And then, leaving those three behind, Jesus went on further by himself to pray. He prayed to God, “if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.”
It was a stressful and confusing time for all involved; but Jesus knew his hour had come and all he asked was that his friends spend one wakeful and watchful hour with him before being condemned to death.
A week from tomorrow the Great Three Days, the Triduum, begins that runs from Maundy Thursday through Good Friday and Holy Saturday to the evening of Easter. During that time we share a meal and foot washing, participate in the final Communion before Easter and strip the altar. During that time we go to the cross with Good Friday services at Noon and 7 p.m. During that time we mourn the death of Jesus as all the world lives in the moment between death and resurrection. And finally we celebrate Christ’s victory over death.
But to get to Easter we must go through Good Friday. To get to resurrection we must go to the cross.
A week from tomorrow the Triduum begins with Maundy Thursday. Church tradition asks that we, too, stay wakeful and watchful through the night and up to Noon on Good Friday.
But Church tradition only asks us, like Jesus asked his disciples, to stay awake for one hour. Many churches have night watches at some location in their building. Many others ask their faithful members to stay awake in prayer at a location convenient to them. I ask you, the faithful members of St. Luke's, to remain awake for one hour at some point during the hours from the evening of Maundy Thursday to Noon on Good Friday.
There is a sign up sheet on the kitchen door for people to commit to one hour of wakeful watchfulness and prayer. Will you commit to staying awake with Jesus for one hour that night? Will you pray with Jesus for the strength to do God's will?
In the words of a favorite hymn: Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of this hour.
May you have a blessed and meaningful Holy Week.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
March 18, 2015
“Life is a journey. The trouble is that we accumulate a whole lot of baggage along the way.”
The Rev. Steven R. Ford, Assisting Clergy, St. James the Apostle, Tempe, AZ
This is a sentence written by Fr. Ford toward the end of an article he wrote in The Living Church entitled “Excess Baggage.”
His article discusses the similarities between those who travel and our own journey through life. There are two types of travelers, he says: those who attempt to bring everything they might possibly need for a trip and stuff it all into one or two very large suitcases; and those who bring only the bare minimum. He contends that this second way is more biblical (“Take nothing for your journey . . .” Mark 6:8-9; “One's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions,” Luke 12:15b) as well as more liberating, allowing one the freedom to be spontaneous and the opportunity to see and do more rather than being overly tied down to one specific place.
He eventually gets around to pointing out the similarities between physical travel and spiritual travel. “The weighty baggage within all of us includes resentments and jealousies that are useless in successful living. Our baggage contains things like envy and pride, which get in the way of our dealings with others as well as with God . . . Our journey is made difficult by our 'carrying heavy burdens'.”
What he's getting at here is the issue of forgiveness. Too often forgiveness is presented as something we “must” do, or as a facade behind which offenders hide, transferring the blame to those offended. And yes, Jesus did tell us that we needed to forgive those who harmed or injured us “not seven times, but seventy-seven times” (Matt. 18:22); so there is a gospel imperative to forgive. The more I think about forgiveness, though, the more I conclude that it's not for the benefit of those who offended me, but it's for the benefit of me.
By not forgiving, we set ourselves up to carry a whole lot of excess baggage. By not forgiving, we allow ourselves, spiritually and emotionally, to be held hostage by the acts of another. Forgiving is not forgetting – we would not allow a person to be treasurer after committing financial improprieties, but we would allow them to remain in the church. Forgiveness allows us to realize we are carrying too much. Forgiveness allows us to unpack and get rid of those burdens which weigh us down. Forgiveness allows us to travel through life lighter, allowing us the freedom to not be tied down by specific sins committed against us. And forgiveness allows us the opportunity to establish reconciliation.
We are almost through our Lenten journey. Let us remember that Lent is not only about confessing our sins to God, seeking repentance and making a right beginning, but that Lent is also about how we offer forgiveness to others.
Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us. As we forgive others, so will God offer forgiveness in the same measure.
As Lent winds down, may you discover the joys of traveling lighter.
Amen.
The Rev. Steven R. Ford, Assisting Clergy, St. James the Apostle, Tempe, AZ
This is a sentence written by Fr. Ford toward the end of an article he wrote in The Living Church entitled “Excess Baggage.”
His article discusses the similarities between those who travel and our own journey through life. There are two types of travelers, he says: those who attempt to bring everything they might possibly need for a trip and stuff it all into one or two very large suitcases; and those who bring only the bare minimum. He contends that this second way is more biblical (“Take nothing for your journey . . .” Mark 6:8-9; “One's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions,” Luke 12:15b) as well as more liberating, allowing one the freedom to be spontaneous and the opportunity to see and do more rather than being overly tied down to one specific place.
He eventually gets around to pointing out the similarities between physical travel and spiritual travel. “The weighty baggage within all of us includes resentments and jealousies that are useless in successful living. Our baggage contains things like envy and pride, which get in the way of our dealings with others as well as with God . . . Our journey is made difficult by our 'carrying heavy burdens'.”
What he's getting at here is the issue of forgiveness. Too often forgiveness is presented as something we “must” do, or as a facade behind which offenders hide, transferring the blame to those offended. And yes, Jesus did tell us that we needed to forgive those who harmed or injured us “not seven times, but seventy-seven times” (Matt. 18:22); so there is a gospel imperative to forgive. The more I think about forgiveness, though, the more I conclude that it's not for the benefit of those who offended me, but it's for the benefit of me.
By not forgiving, we set ourselves up to carry a whole lot of excess baggage. By not forgiving, we allow ourselves, spiritually and emotionally, to be held hostage by the acts of another. Forgiving is not forgetting – we would not allow a person to be treasurer after committing financial improprieties, but we would allow them to remain in the church. Forgiveness allows us to realize we are carrying too much. Forgiveness allows us to unpack and get rid of those burdens which weigh us down. Forgiveness allows us to travel through life lighter, allowing us the freedom to not be tied down by specific sins committed against us. And forgiveness allows us the opportunity to establish reconciliation.
We are almost through our Lenten journey. Let us remember that Lent is not only about confessing our sins to God, seeking repentance and making a right beginning, but that Lent is also about how we offer forgiveness to others.
Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us. As we forgive others, so will God offer forgiveness in the same measure.
As Lent winds down, may you discover the joys of traveling lighter.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
March 11, 2015
“At the moment when a man goes astray, if he says, 'I have sinned,' immediately the sin ceases.”
Abba Poemen
While a good thought, I think it's more complicated than that. If, in the middle of an armed robbery, the robber recognizes he is sinning yet continues in the act of robbery, simply saying, “I have sinned” doesn't immediately end the sin he is continuing to commit. The same could be said for any number of other sins: making idols of that which are not God; failing to respect the dignity of other people and/or the environment; being negligent in prayer; adultery; lying; theft; anger; envy; and the list goes on.
Repentance is a multi-step process that is more complicated than simply saying, “I have sinned.”
First, we must recognize that we are even sinning. Oh, the big ones are obvious – murder, adultery, stealing, lying. But what about others that maybe aren't so obvious? Do we recognize that we are sinning then? It's been said that the most broken of the 10 Commandments is Number 4 – Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. How do we know we are sinning? Use the mother/grandmother test. In other words, if mom or grandma wouldn't approve, maybe you should rethink what you are doing.
Second, we need to actually repent of our actions. Once we've recognized that we have committed a sin, we need to confess that sin to God and ask for forgiveness. This isn't the modern, “I'm sorry you were offended; you should forgive me” tripe that has become so common. This is the honest, “I'm sorry I hurt you; I humbly ask your forgiveness” kind. As the introduction to the Confession in Rite One says, “Ye who do truly and earnestly repent of your sins . . .”
Finally, there is the desire to actually stop doing what we are doing and change our behavior. To continue with the last sentence from above, “ . . . and intend to lead a new life.” This is obviously the most difficult aspect of the process because we keep sinning. Liars keep lying, thieves keep stealing, whatevers keep whatevering. We are human and we occasionally and consistently stumble into sin. But once we recognize that sin, once we repent and confess that sin, are we willing to do the hard work of living differently? That's the challenge.
Abba Poemen gives us a good place to start when we have gone astray: immediately recognize that we have strayed and confess that particular sin without delay and without excuse. Following that, we would do well to remember both the Ash Wednesday liturgy and the Reconciliation liturgy.
On Ash Wednesday we are invited to the observance of a holy Lent through, among other things, self-examination and repentance. On Ash Wednesday we are invited to make a right beginning of repentance. As we move through Lent, remember that repentance is a multi-step process.
The Dismissal for Form Two of The Reconciliation of a Penitent proclaims, “Now there is rejoicing in heaven; for you were lost, and are found; you were dead, and are now alive in Christ Jesus our Lord. Go (or abide) in peace. The Lord has put away all your sins.”
As we move through Lent, remember that the goal is not to make us sinners miserable. The goal is to remember that God rejoices at our return and our move from death to life.
Amen.
Abba Poemen
While a good thought, I think it's more complicated than that. If, in the middle of an armed robbery, the robber recognizes he is sinning yet continues in the act of robbery, simply saying, “I have sinned” doesn't immediately end the sin he is continuing to commit. The same could be said for any number of other sins: making idols of that which are not God; failing to respect the dignity of other people and/or the environment; being negligent in prayer; adultery; lying; theft; anger; envy; and the list goes on.
Repentance is a multi-step process that is more complicated than simply saying, “I have sinned.”
First, we must recognize that we are even sinning. Oh, the big ones are obvious – murder, adultery, stealing, lying. But what about others that maybe aren't so obvious? Do we recognize that we are sinning then? It's been said that the most broken of the 10 Commandments is Number 4 – Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. How do we know we are sinning? Use the mother/grandmother test. In other words, if mom or grandma wouldn't approve, maybe you should rethink what you are doing.
Second, we need to actually repent of our actions. Once we've recognized that we have committed a sin, we need to confess that sin to God and ask for forgiveness. This isn't the modern, “I'm sorry you were offended; you should forgive me” tripe that has become so common. This is the honest, “I'm sorry I hurt you; I humbly ask your forgiveness” kind. As the introduction to the Confession in Rite One says, “Ye who do truly and earnestly repent of your sins . . .”
Finally, there is the desire to actually stop doing what we are doing and change our behavior. To continue with the last sentence from above, “ . . . and intend to lead a new life.” This is obviously the most difficult aspect of the process because we keep sinning. Liars keep lying, thieves keep stealing, whatevers keep whatevering. We are human and we occasionally and consistently stumble into sin. But once we recognize that sin, once we repent and confess that sin, are we willing to do the hard work of living differently? That's the challenge.
Abba Poemen gives us a good place to start when we have gone astray: immediately recognize that we have strayed and confess that particular sin without delay and without excuse. Following that, we would do well to remember both the Ash Wednesday liturgy and the Reconciliation liturgy.
On Ash Wednesday we are invited to the observance of a holy Lent through, among other things, self-examination and repentance. On Ash Wednesday we are invited to make a right beginning of repentance. As we move through Lent, remember that repentance is a multi-step process.
The Dismissal for Form Two of The Reconciliation of a Penitent proclaims, “Now there is rejoicing in heaven; for you were lost, and are found; you were dead, and are now alive in Christ Jesus our Lord. Go (or abide) in peace. The Lord has put away all your sins.”
As we move through Lent, remember that the goal is not to make us sinners miserable. The goal is to remember that God rejoices at our return and our move from death to life.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
March 4, 2015
“Holy things for the holy people”
Eastern Orthodox invitation to Communion
I read an article recently by a priest who wrote about a personal dry spell, or desert journey, or struggle or whatever you want to call it.
In that article he talked about his Lenten discipline of wearing a cassock on a regular basis. And by “regular basis,” I mean pretty much from the time his day starts until it ends. He wears it at Morning Prayer, in the office, when he goes out to lunch, under his alb at Communion, when he visits parishioners and when he makes hospital calls.
His Lenten discipline began as a response to the aforementioned dry spell. At some point, Sunday morning became just another thing to do. Get to church early enough to unlock the building, turn on the lights, start the coffee, make sure everything is ready to go, get vested, get through the service, meet with people, schedule appointments, turn everything off, lock up, visit a parishioner or two and call it a day. Sunday was not a Sabbath. Sunday had become just another work day. Holy Eucharist had lost its luster, its meaning and its mystery. It had ceased to be Holy and had become ordinary, and the worshipful words of the service had become a tired, meaningless old script read too often.
This is something all priests need to be on guard against, and it was staring him in the face. So he donned the cassock.
He donned the cassock to remind him of his calling. He donned the cassock as a daily reminder of the Holy Orders he vowed to live into. He donned the cassock to remind him of the burdens he carries as a priest. He donned the cassock to remind him that he was a conduit for holy things given to holy people. He donned the cassock to remind him to listen to the Spirit, because it is in our wilderness journeys that we are given a new way of being.
For this priest, the cassock reminds him of his daily walk with God and it reminds him of the dignity and benefit of those holy things of which we partake every Sunday.
Are you in a dry spell or living in the wilderness? Know that God is preparing you for something new.
Has Sunday become just another day? Has Sunday worship become just one more chore to check off the to-do list? Not all of us can, or should, wear cassocks to remind us of our relationship with God and others. But we should all remember that we are a holy people, and that our worship allows us to participate in and partake of holy things.
May your Lenten discipline allow you to listen for God doing something new. May your Lenten discipline allow you to gain a deeper sense of the mystery that is our worship. May your Lenten discipline remind you that you are a holy people. May your Lenten discipline give you a greater awareness that we have the honor and responsibility of sharing in holy things.
This Sunday, may you once again see holy things given to a holy people.
Amen.
Eastern Orthodox invitation to Communion
I read an article recently by a priest who wrote about a personal dry spell, or desert journey, or struggle or whatever you want to call it.
In that article he talked about his Lenten discipline of wearing a cassock on a regular basis. And by “regular basis,” I mean pretty much from the time his day starts until it ends. He wears it at Morning Prayer, in the office, when he goes out to lunch, under his alb at Communion, when he visits parishioners and when he makes hospital calls.
His Lenten discipline began as a response to the aforementioned dry spell. At some point, Sunday morning became just another thing to do. Get to church early enough to unlock the building, turn on the lights, start the coffee, make sure everything is ready to go, get vested, get through the service, meet with people, schedule appointments, turn everything off, lock up, visit a parishioner or two and call it a day. Sunday was not a Sabbath. Sunday had become just another work day. Holy Eucharist had lost its luster, its meaning and its mystery. It had ceased to be Holy and had become ordinary, and the worshipful words of the service had become a tired, meaningless old script read too often.
This is something all priests need to be on guard against, and it was staring him in the face. So he donned the cassock.
He donned the cassock to remind him of his calling. He donned the cassock as a daily reminder of the Holy Orders he vowed to live into. He donned the cassock to remind him of the burdens he carries as a priest. He donned the cassock to remind him that he was a conduit for holy things given to holy people. He donned the cassock to remind him to listen to the Spirit, because it is in our wilderness journeys that we are given a new way of being.
For this priest, the cassock reminds him of his daily walk with God and it reminds him of the dignity and benefit of those holy things of which we partake every Sunday.
Are you in a dry spell or living in the wilderness? Know that God is preparing you for something new.
Has Sunday become just another day? Has Sunday worship become just one more chore to check off the to-do list? Not all of us can, or should, wear cassocks to remind us of our relationship with God and others. But we should all remember that we are a holy people, and that our worship allows us to participate in and partake of holy things.
May your Lenten discipline allow you to listen for God doing something new. May your Lenten discipline allow you to gain a deeper sense of the mystery that is our worship. May your Lenten discipline remind you that you are a holy people. May your Lenten discipline give you a greater awareness that we have the honor and responsibility of sharing in holy things.
This Sunday, may you once again see holy things given to a holy people.
Amen.
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