A soldier asked Abba Mius if God accepted repentance. “Tell me, my dear, if your cloak is torn, do you throw it away?” He replied, “No, I mend it and use it again.” The old man said to him, “If you are so careful about your cloak, will not God be equally careful about his creature?”
We generally like our stuff. After all, that's why we have it, because we liked it to begin with. Of course, some stuff was given to us; but the majority of our stuff came from us. Have you ever noticed that when we really want something we would prefer to purchase it ourselves rather than receive it as a gift? Or is that just me?
We tend to get attached to our stuff. Some of us get overly attached to a particular pen on our desk. Some of us love our cars and care for them deeply. I served on a volunteer fire department once that had in its jurisdiction a man with a classic car collection. We had standing orders to let the house burn and save the garage. If you need an example of this kind of devotion, make your way to the Classic Car Show in Grants Pass this weekend. And I should probably get a new Prayer Book, but red duct tape works wonders.
Whether we care for our stuff out of a sense of passion and devotion, or whether we care for our stuff because we want it to last, or whether we care for our stuff because we choose not to be part of society's throw-away mindset, the operative words there are, “we care for.”
Abba Mius used the image of a torn cloak to make the point that, if the soldier cared for a piece of cloth – just some stuff – enough to mend it and continue using it, would not God care for one of his living creatures enough to help it mend and be of continued use? We are more valuable than a piece of cloth. We are more valuable than stuff. We are more valuable because we were created from the boundless, and boundary-less, love of God.
I received a request to sign a petition this week from a Christian group determined to force a repeal of a variety of recent government actions granting equality to LGBT people. They are intent on stopping what they see as a threat to Christianity and America. There is no sense of love in that petition. There is no sense of caring. There is only hateful outrage that they are being required to share their equality with people they don't like. And that's sad.
It's sad because they choose to not recognize other people as people, just as “others” who need to be stopped and/or eliminated. It's sad because what they care for is maintaining their superiority, not other human beings. It's sad because they can't see God working in any way other than through their own agenda of exclusion. It's sad because they can't see the love of God manifested in people who happen to be different from them.
More than anything else, it's sad because this group of Christians view LGBT people as less valuable than a piece of cloth, stuff not wanted in the first place, whose only value is in the trash.
How do we care for our stuff? How does God care for his stuff? If we aren't caring for others with at least as much devotion as we care for our stuff, or if we are part of a group who sees other people only as useless stuff, maybe we need to rethink why that is.
Amen.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
July 15, 2015
“Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.”
Jesus, Gospel of Mark, 6:31
Those words uttered by Jesus come shortly after he was rejected in his home town where he could do no deeds of power. Those words come shortly after Jesus sends the twelve disciples out into the surrounding villages to preach the gospel, cast out demons and heal the sick. Jesus and the disciples have been busy. Jesus and the disciples have had to deal with handling pressure and people in a variety of circumstances.
After the rejection, after the mission, after the constant demands of their time, Jesus calls the twelve to a mini retreat – “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.”
There are days (or weeks if you read the previous Wednesday Word) where things seem to constantly crush and wear you down. Whether it is coworkers who constantly try your patience, family members who treat others in less-than-loving ways, small outside projects that turn into major overhauls sucking out the joy, or a seemingly never-ending litany of interruptions, complaints and problems with no answers, at some point we begin to feel like we are, or have, come to the end of our proverbial rope. And it seems like, despite all of the gadgets designed to make our lives simpler and easier, our lives are actually getting more complicated, frenzied and stressful.
We are told over and over in hymns and pithy sayings of one sort or another to “follow Jesus.” For many people that involves trying to love our neighbors, turn the other cheek, feed the hungry, clothe the naked and speak for the voiceless. And those are all good and holy things to do, or strive to do. But too many of us miss out on hearing these words, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.”
I have a book on my shelf called, Too Busy NOT to Pray. It was written by Bill Hybels, founder and pastor of the original mega-church, Willow Creek in Chicago. While I don't necessarily agree with his theology, churchmanship or methods, this book is a good reminder that, no matter how busy we think we are, we need to commit to times of prayer. We need to remember to not get caught up in the busy-ness of life and remember to participate in the business of spending time with God.
Where are you in your life? Do you have too many commitments wearing you down? Do you have too many people trying to get a piece of you? Is the clutter of life in general keeping you from participating in the presence of God? We all get there. We all have “those days” or “those weeks.” There are times when we all wonder what we are doing this for.
If that is you, take time to slow down. Take time to pray. Take time to do a spiritual inventory. Take time to follow Jesus.
Come away to a deserted place all by yourself and rest awhile.
Amen.
Jesus, Gospel of Mark, 6:31
Those words uttered by Jesus come shortly after he was rejected in his home town where he could do no deeds of power. Those words come shortly after Jesus sends the twelve disciples out into the surrounding villages to preach the gospel, cast out demons and heal the sick. Jesus and the disciples have been busy. Jesus and the disciples have had to deal with handling pressure and people in a variety of circumstances.
After the rejection, after the mission, after the constant demands of their time, Jesus calls the twelve to a mini retreat – “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.”
There are days (or weeks if you read the previous Wednesday Word) where things seem to constantly crush and wear you down. Whether it is coworkers who constantly try your patience, family members who treat others in less-than-loving ways, small outside projects that turn into major overhauls sucking out the joy, or a seemingly never-ending litany of interruptions, complaints and problems with no answers, at some point we begin to feel like we are, or have, come to the end of our proverbial rope. And it seems like, despite all of the gadgets designed to make our lives simpler and easier, our lives are actually getting more complicated, frenzied and stressful.
We are told over and over in hymns and pithy sayings of one sort or another to “follow Jesus.” For many people that involves trying to love our neighbors, turn the other cheek, feed the hungry, clothe the naked and speak for the voiceless. And those are all good and holy things to do, or strive to do. But too many of us miss out on hearing these words, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.”
I have a book on my shelf called, Too Busy NOT to Pray. It was written by Bill Hybels, founder and pastor of the original mega-church, Willow Creek in Chicago. While I don't necessarily agree with his theology, churchmanship or methods, this book is a good reminder that, no matter how busy we think we are, we need to commit to times of prayer. We need to remember to not get caught up in the busy-ness of life and remember to participate in the business of spending time with God.
Where are you in your life? Do you have too many commitments wearing you down? Do you have too many people trying to get a piece of you? Is the clutter of life in general keeping you from participating in the presence of God? We all get there. We all have “those days” or “those weeks.” There are times when we all wonder what we are doing this for.
If that is you, take time to slow down. Take time to pray. Take time to do a spiritual inventory. Take time to follow Jesus.
Come away to a deserted place all by yourself and rest awhile.
Amen.
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
July 8, 2015
“It's just another manic Monday.”
The Bangles
On Sunday, June 28, the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 8, the gospel passage from Mark was the story of Jesus going to the home of Jairus to heal his terminally ill daughter. On the way there, Jesus was interrupted by a woman who had touched his robe in an attempt to be healed of her chronic bleeding. Jesus eventually arrives at Jairus' house, but only after the girl has died.
One of the two areas I preached on was the idea of holy interruptions. How do we deal with interruptions? Can we learn to see interruptions as grace-filled moments? Can we use them to express God's loving presence?
This past Sunday, July 5, the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 9, I preached on where we are able to hear and see God at work in the world around us. The people of Jesus' home town were not able to hear or see God at work because they thought they knew who Jesus was. They thought they knew what he had to say, and they couldn't see him for anyone other than who they thought he was.
In that sermon, I asked how we heard the word of God being preached and where we might see God at work in the world about us. What I didn't say was, “Maybe we need to listen more carefully, and look more closely, at how God is being revealed in the world.”
Between Sunday, June 28 and Tuesday, July 7, I have had ample opportunity to live into these ideas of holy interruptions and looking for God in unexpected places. Last week I met with parishioners after the Sunday services. On Monday I assisted people with gas and emergency lodging. On Tuesday I gathered with others for the Men's Breakfast, had a lunch meeting and met with two people regarding visa issues. And on Wednesday I met with a parishioner and spent a good amount of time following up on the visa issue.
This past Monday and Tuesday I worked with a family member about her deceased father, dealt with someone referred to me for help with a bus ticket (and was also dealing with other legal issues), fielded yet another request for financial assistance, spent 11:45 p.m. to 1:15 a.m. with a self-destructive person who had too much to drink, delivered the man from yesterday to the Greyhound terminal and spent the rest of the day in a form of intervention with said recovering alcoholic and another mutual friend at the hospital working out a productive plan for life.
It has been a busier than normal week. And the question remains, “Can these interruptions to my life be grace-filled moments, and can I hear and see God working through those same moments?”
I hope so. I hope the man on the bus was able to see the face of God in my effort to help get him home. I hope the woman looking for a visa extension can see God working through perseverance. I hope the parishioners and the fallen alcoholic can hear God speaking through me. I hope they all see God caring for them through my actions.
More importantly, I hope I can see all that has transpired as not just another manic Monday, but as grace-filled moments where God is present and working in this very messy and broken world.
Amen.
The Bangles
On Sunday, June 28, the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 8, the gospel passage from Mark was the story of Jesus going to the home of Jairus to heal his terminally ill daughter. On the way there, Jesus was interrupted by a woman who had touched his robe in an attempt to be healed of her chronic bleeding. Jesus eventually arrives at Jairus' house, but only after the girl has died.
One of the two areas I preached on was the idea of holy interruptions. How do we deal with interruptions? Can we learn to see interruptions as grace-filled moments? Can we use them to express God's loving presence?
This past Sunday, July 5, the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 9, I preached on where we are able to hear and see God at work in the world around us. The people of Jesus' home town were not able to hear or see God at work because they thought they knew who Jesus was. They thought they knew what he had to say, and they couldn't see him for anyone other than who they thought he was.
In that sermon, I asked how we heard the word of God being preached and where we might see God at work in the world about us. What I didn't say was, “Maybe we need to listen more carefully, and look more closely, at how God is being revealed in the world.”
Between Sunday, June 28 and Tuesday, July 7, I have had ample opportunity to live into these ideas of holy interruptions and looking for God in unexpected places. Last week I met with parishioners after the Sunday services. On Monday I assisted people with gas and emergency lodging. On Tuesday I gathered with others for the Men's Breakfast, had a lunch meeting and met with two people regarding visa issues. And on Wednesday I met with a parishioner and spent a good amount of time following up on the visa issue.
This past Monday and Tuesday I worked with a family member about her deceased father, dealt with someone referred to me for help with a bus ticket (and was also dealing with other legal issues), fielded yet another request for financial assistance, spent 11:45 p.m. to 1:15 a.m. with a self-destructive person who had too much to drink, delivered the man from yesterday to the Greyhound terminal and spent the rest of the day in a form of intervention with said recovering alcoholic and another mutual friend at the hospital working out a productive plan for life.
It has been a busier than normal week. And the question remains, “Can these interruptions to my life be grace-filled moments, and can I hear and see God working through those same moments?”
I hope so. I hope the man on the bus was able to see the face of God in my effort to help get him home. I hope the woman looking for a visa extension can see God working through perseverance. I hope the parishioners and the fallen alcoholic can hear God speaking through me. I hope they all see God caring for them through my actions.
More importantly, I hope I can see all that has transpired as not just another manic Monday, but as grace-filled moments where God is present and working in this very messy and broken world.
Amen.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
July 1, 2015
“All too quickly we feel and resent what we suffer at the hands of others, but remain indifferent to the suffering we inflict upon others.”
Thomas a'Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Book 2, Chapter 5
When I first read this, the first thing I thought of was the quote from Jesus: “Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye?” It's all too easy to point out the faults of others while ignoring or rationalizing our own faults.
That was the first thing I thought. But, as I sat with it, I realized that this wasn't really what Thomas was saying. It went deeper than that. It goes deeper because, while Jesus' words challenge us to exam our own faults before we criticize the faults of others, these words of Thomas begin to remind us of the suffering we cause to others. Thomas wrote these words at the earliest in 1418. He was ahead of his time by approximately 580 years when, in 1998, an updated Confession of Sin appeared in the supplemental liturgical resource Enriching Our Worship 1 with the words, “We repent of the evil that enslaves us, the evil we have done, and the evil done on our behalf.”
For some of us in our modern American society, we are accustomed to getting what we want when we want it. This is reflected in small ways in our expectation of being served at a restaurant promptly, or being politely waited on at clothing stores while we purchase the items we want, or being able to fill our refrigerators with fresh produce, or taking everyday activities for granted.
But when we don't get our food fast enough, when the clothes and food we want are unavailable, or when someone else is granted the right of equal access for something we thought was our privilege, too many of us make the claim, “It's not fair,” or make claims of persecution. In reality, we are not being persecuted and it is fair; it's just that we would rather see our own inconvenience and “suffering” instead of the inequality and suffering done to others by, or on behalf of, us.
And this goes well beyond quick, inexpensive food and clothing items. This also addresses a variety of privileges we take for granted but are often unwilling to grant to those who differ from us. A certain group of people can expect to be served and purchase basic items without question, while another group of people are unable to purchase those same basic items because of income inequality, lack of availability, or are refused services based upon “deeply held religious beliefs.”
There seems to be a (unfounded) belief that granting equal rights to “them” means fewer rights for me.
At its very worst though, it shows up in the actions of Dylann Roof and the recent unidentified arsonists, who are so afraid of granting people of color equal access to the various privileges they themselves enjoy, that they are driven to kill people and burn churches.
Will we continue to believe we are being persecuted when others are granted the same rights and privileges that we ourselves enjoy? Will we remain indifferent to the pain and suffering inflicted on others, either by us directly or by others “on our behalf?”
These words of Thomas a'Kempis, and the words in the aforementioned Confession, should give us pause and prompt us to open our eyes to a world fallen short of God's will that there is no partiality.
Amen.
Thomas a'Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Book 2, Chapter 5
When I first read this, the first thing I thought of was the quote from Jesus: “Why do you see the speck in your neighbor's eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye?” It's all too easy to point out the faults of others while ignoring or rationalizing our own faults.
That was the first thing I thought. But, as I sat with it, I realized that this wasn't really what Thomas was saying. It went deeper than that. It goes deeper because, while Jesus' words challenge us to exam our own faults before we criticize the faults of others, these words of Thomas begin to remind us of the suffering we cause to others. Thomas wrote these words at the earliest in 1418. He was ahead of his time by approximately 580 years when, in 1998, an updated Confession of Sin appeared in the supplemental liturgical resource Enriching Our Worship 1 with the words, “We repent of the evil that enslaves us, the evil we have done, and the evil done on our behalf.”
For some of us in our modern American society, we are accustomed to getting what we want when we want it. This is reflected in small ways in our expectation of being served at a restaurant promptly, or being politely waited on at clothing stores while we purchase the items we want, or being able to fill our refrigerators with fresh produce, or taking everyday activities for granted.
But when we don't get our food fast enough, when the clothes and food we want are unavailable, or when someone else is granted the right of equal access for something we thought was our privilege, too many of us make the claim, “It's not fair,” or make claims of persecution. In reality, we are not being persecuted and it is fair; it's just that we would rather see our own inconvenience and “suffering” instead of the inequality and suffering done to others by, or on behalf of, us.
And this goes well beyond quick, inexpensive food and clothing items. This also addresses a variety of privileges we take for granted but are often unwilling to grant to those who differ from us. A certain group of people can expect to be served and purchase basic items without question, while another group of people are unable to purchase those same basic items because of income inequality, lack of availability, or are refused services based upon “deeply held religious beliefs.”
There seems to be a (unfounded) belief that granting equal rights to “them” means fewer rights for me.
At its very worst though, it shows up in the actions of Dylann Roof and the recent unidentified arsonists, who are so afraid of granting people of color equal access to the various privileges they themselves enjoy, that they are driven to kill people and burn churches.
Will we continue to believe we are being persecuted when others are granted the same rights and privileges that we ourselves enjoy? Will we remain indifferent to the pain and suffering inflicted on others, either by us directly or by others “on our behalf?”
These words of Thomas a'Kempis, and the words in the aforementioned Confession, should give us pause and prompt us to open our eyes to a world fallen short of God's will that there is no partiality.
Amen.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
June 24, 2015
“If you knew the whole Bible by heart and the teachings of all the philosophers, what would all this avail you without the love of God, and without His grace?”
Thomas a'Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Book 1, Chapter 1
On Mondays I lead a Bible study at the Rogue Valley Retirement Center. We are currently working our way through Matthew, and this week we focused on Chapter 15. That chapter opens up with scribes and Pharisees confronting Jesus over the issue of ritual hand washing. Jesus goes on the offensive and talks about how the traditions of hand washing and allowing children to abandon their parents are in direct opposition to God's will. What he's telling those around him is that we cannot be tainted by what we perceive as impurities in others. Verses 1-20 have Jesus arguing against limited, literal readings of Scripture that are designed to keep people out, in favor of generous readings of Scripture that look to manifest the love of God to everyone through our behavior.
The argument the Pharisees and scribes were essentially making was, “Scripture clearly says . . .”
The scribes and the Pharisees knew their holy scripture and the teachings that derived from it. They were constantly playing a game of scriptural one-upmanship with Jesus, looking to prove they had all the right scriptural answers in an attempt to maintain their purity and holiness. By holding to ritual law, by maintaining their cleanliness, as was dictated in both scripture and thousands of years of teachings, they could maintain their holiness while ostracizing and condemning others.
This wasn't just an issue for the Pharisees and scribes of Jesus' day, it is an issue for Christians today as well. Today we also have people who know the Bible by heart. Today we have people quoting scripture in reference to the curse of Ham. Today we have people who find scriptural support for slavery and the continued oppression of African Americans. Today we have people who find scriptural support for the degrading and exclusion of women, minorities and outsiders. Today we still have people more concerned with their own purity and being tainted by perceived impurities of others than with expressing the love of God in thought, word and deed.
I don't know Dylann Roof or what he knew about the Bible. But I do know that groups steeped in racism (such as the KKK and the Council of Conservative Citizens) and in the patriarchy movement (such as Quiverfull) often recite chapter and verse of the Bible as both a foundation of their hatred and rationale to ostracize, condemn and sometimes kill others.
The arguments these groups are essentially making is, “Scripture clearly says . . .”
Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you. Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law. Let all you do be done in love. Whoever does not love, abides in death.
If you knew the whole Bible by heart and the teachings of all the philosophers, what would all this avail you without the love of God?
Amen.
Thomas a'Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Book 1, Chapter 1
On Mondays I lead a Bible study at the Rogue Valley Retirement Center. We are currently working our way through Matthew, and this week we focused on Chapter 15. That chapter opens up with scribes and Pharisees confronting Jesus over the issue of ritual hand washing. Jesus goes on the offensive and talks about how the traditions of hand washing and allowing children to abandon their parents are in direct opposition to God's will. What he's telling those around him is that we cannot be tainted by what we perceive as impurities in others. Verses 1-20 have Jesus arguing against limited, literal readings of Scripture that are designed to keep people out, in favor of generous readings of Scripture that look to manifest the love of God to everyone through our behavior.
The argument the Pharisees and scribes were essentially making was, “Scripture clearly says . . .”
The scribes and the Pharisees knew their holy scripture and the teachings that derived from it. They were constantly playing a game of scriptural one-upmanship with Jesus, looking to prove they had all the right scriptural answers in an attempt to maintain their purity and holiness. By holding to ritual law, by maintaining their cleanliness, as was dictated in both scripture and thousands of years of teachings, they could maintain their holiness while ostracizing and condemning others.
This wasn't just an issue for the Pharisees and scribes of Jesus' day, it is an issue for Christians today as well. Today we also have people who know the Bible by heart. Today we have people quoting scripture in reference to the curse of Ham. Today we have people who find scriptural support for slavery and the continued oppression of African Americans. Today we have people who find scriptural support for the degrading and exclusion of women, minorities and outsiders. Today we still have people more concerned with their own purity and being tainted by perceived impurities of others than with expressing the love of God in thought, word and deed.
I don't know Dylann Roof or what he knew about the Bible. But I do know that groups steeped in racism (such as the KKK and the Council of Conservative Citizens) and in the patriarchy movement (such as Quiverfull) often recite chapter and verse of the Bible as both a foundation of their hatred and rationale to ostracize, condemn and sometimes kill others.
The arguments these groups are essentially making is, “Scripture clearly says . . .”
Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you. Love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law. Let all you do be done in love. Whoever does not love, abides in death.
If you knew the whole Bible by heart and the teachings of all the philosophers, what would all this avail you without the love of God?
Amen.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
June 17, 2015
“Where is God in all this?”
Everyone everywhere in the midst of a tragedy
Bombings, shootings, buildings collapsing, terrorist attacks, sudden deaths, crashes and accidents of all kinds always bring out questions about the presence (or lack thereof) of God.
If God were a loving God, why would he let this happen? If God really is omnipotent, couldn't he have stopped this from happening? What did I do wrong that God is punishing me? All these questions and more surface when we are faced with a tragedy or loss of some kind.
And while it's easy to proclaim belief in an all-loving, omnipotent and omnipresent God who allows us to exercise our free will when things are going well, that seems to get more difficult or more complicated when things don't go our way or when disaster strikes. We want to hold to certain tenets of the faith as long as God doesn't get in the way, while also wanting to be engulfed in holy bubble-wrap to keep us from harm when things go wrong.
But that, unfortunately, is not how it works. God does not surround us with holy bubble-wrap. God does not step in and alter the course of bad or hateful decisions. God does not, generally speaking, suddenly and magically “make everything better.”
If God doesn't do any of those things, then we are back to the original question: Where is God in all this?
As Christians, we believe that God became incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ. This is an amazingly bold statement of belief: that the eternal, omnipotent, Creator of everything chose to humble himself and dwell with us as a fellow human being. But this can also be amazingly comforting when we realize that God Almighty chose to dwell with us as a fellow human being. It means that our suffering has become God's suffering. It means that our tragedies have become God's tragedies. It means that our joys have become God's joys. Our struggles and accomplishments are God's struggles and accomplishments. This is all reflected in Matthew's interpretation of Isaiah 7:14 when he writes, “ . . . 'and they shall name him Emmanuel,' which means, 'God is with us'.”
This question of where is God has been on my mind recently with the news of Dan Collins. On Monday afternoon he had the misfortune of falling down a flight of stairs resulting in eight broken ribs, a collapsed lung and lacerated spleen and liver. He was transported to the hospital in Tahoe and then airlifted to the Reno trauma center where he spent the past few days in ICU. Dan, apparently, could have benefited from holy bubble-wrap.
Where is God in all this? God is with the medics, nurses and doctors who have cared, and are caring, for Dan. God is with those who minister to Joan while in Reno. God is with Fr. John Seville, the interim rector at Trinity Church in Reno, who will visit Dan and Joan at the hospital. God is with all those who are praying for safety, healing and recovery.
Where is God in all this? God is with us.
Amen.
Everyone everywhere in the midst of a tragedy
Bombings, shootings, buildings collapsing, terrorist attacks, sudden deaths, crashes and accidents of all kinds always bring out questions about the presence (or lack thereof) of God.
If God were a loving God, why would he let this happen? If God really is omnipotent, couldn't he have stopped this from happening? What did I do wrong that God is punishing me? All these questions and more surface when we are faced with a tragedy or loss of some kind.
And while it's easy to proclaim belief in an all-loving, omnipotent and omnipresent God who allows us to exercise our free will when things are going well, that seems to get more difficult or more complicated when things don't go our way or when disaster strikes. We want to hold to certain tenets of the faith as long as God doesn't get in the way, while also wanting to be engulfed in holy bubble-wrap to keep us from harm when things go wrong.
But that, unfortunately, is not how it works. God does not surround us with holy bubble-wrap. God does not step in and alter the course of bad or hateful decisions. God does not, generally speaking, suddenly and magically “make everything better.”
If God doesn't do any of those things, then we are back to the original question: Where is God in all this?
As Christians, we believe that God became incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ. This is an amazingly bold statement of belief: that the eternal, omnipotent, Creator of everything chose to humble himself and dwell with us as a fellow human being. But this can also be amazingly comforting when we realize that God Almighty chose to dwell with us as a fellow human being. It means that our suffering has become God's suffering. It means that our tragedies have become God's tragedies. It means that our joys have become God's joys. Our struggles and accomplishments are God's struggles and accomplishments. This is all reflected in Matthew's interpretation of Isaiah 7:14 when he writes, “ . . . 'and they shall name him Emmanuel,' which means, 'God is with us'.”
This question of where is God has been on my mind recently with the news of Dan Collins. On Monday afternoon he had the misfortune of falling down a flight of stairs resulting in eight broken ribs, a collapsed lung and lacerated spleen and liver. He was transported to the hospital in Tahoe and then airlifted to the Reno trauma center where he spent the past few days in ICU. Dan, apparently, could have benefited from holy bubble-wrap.
Where is God in all this? God is with the medics, nurses and doctors who have cared, and are caring, for Dan. God is with those who minister to Joan while in Reno. God is with Fr. John Seville, the interim rector at Trinity Church in Reno, who will visit Dan and Joan at the hospital. God is with all those who are praying for safety, healing and recovery.
Where is God in all this? God is with us.
Amen.
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
June 10, 2015
“It is hard to forgo that to which we are accustomed, and harder still to conquer the will. But if you fail to overcome small and easy things, how will you overcome hard things? Resist your evil inclinations in the beginning, and unlearn your evil habits, lest perhaps little by little they bring you greater trials.”
Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ
This is more properly a Lenten meditation, for it is during that season in which we are more attuned to making changes in our lives that bring us closer to God. Change is difficult whether it is wanted or not; which is why I always tell people, “If you are going to give up chocolate for Lent, take on the habit of eating baby carrots; or if you are going to give up TV, take on the habit of reading Scripture.”
It's easier to overcome those small and easy things if we replace them with small but better habits. Baby carrots for chocolate, Scripture for TV, 30 minutes of walking for one TV show, etc.
And even though this seems to be more appropriate for a Lenten meditation, I was reminded of this quote from Thomas yesterday at Morning Prayer. For the last several days, the first reading has come from the book of Deuteronomy and is, essentially, Moses summarizing for the people of Israel both the benefits of obeying and the consequences of disobeying the Law.
“No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe . . . But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish” (Deut. 30:14, 17-18a).
I sometimes wonder if we aren't having the same conversation with the Serpent on a daily basis. “Oh, you won't die,” the Serpent whispers to us. “You'll be fine.”
But the truth is, we aren't fine. We slowly waste away by ignoring our physical health. We slowly create an enclave of one by focusing only on ourselves, ignoring others around us. We slowly drift away by seeing worship, prayer and study as non-essential activities. It doesn't take long for us to wander off into places we thought we would never go, one easy step at a time. And before we know it, we have a mountain of habits and practices too large to overcome. And eventually we get buried by that mountain.
How can we keep from being buried by the mountain? How can we avoid the trap of the Serpent? One step at a time, I think. Start small, maybe with a few baby carrots. Make an effort to unlearn one bad habit at a time. Make time to be more intentional about worship, prayer and study.
Lent comes around once a year to help us reorder our lives in relationship to God. The bad news is that those “evil inclinations” and “evil habits” don't pay attention to the Church calendar and have a way of cropping up on a daily basis.
The good news is that there's never a bad time to make a new beginning.
Amen.
Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ
This is more properly a Lenten meditation, for it is during that season in which we are more attuned to making changes in our lives that bring us closer to God. Change is difficult whether it is wanted or not; which is why I always tell people, “If you are going to give up chocolate for Lent, take on the habit of eating baby carrots; or if you are going to give up TV, take on the habit of reading Scripture.”
It's easier to overcome those small and easy things if we replace them with small but better habits. Baby carrots for chocolate, Scripture for TV, 30 minutes of walking for one TV show, etc.
And even though this seems to be more appropriate for a Lenten meditation, I was reminded of this quote from Thomas yesterday at Morning Prayer. For the last several days, the first reading has come from the book of Deuteronomy and is, essentially, Moses summarizing for the people of Israel both the benefits of obeying and the consequences of disobeying the Law.
“No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe . . . But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish” (Deut. 30:14, 17-18a).
I sometimes wonder if we aren't having the same conversation with the Serpent on a daily basis. “Oh, you won't die,” the Serpent whispers to us. “You'll be fine.”
But the truth is, we aren't fine. We slowly waste away by ignoring our physical health. We slowly create an enclave of one by focusing only on ourselves, ignoring others around us. We slowly drift away by seeing worship, prayer and study as non-essential activities. It doesn't take long for us to wander off into places we thought we would never go, one easy step at a time. And before we know it, we have a mountain of habits and practices too large to overcome. And eventually we get buried by that mountain.
How can we keep from being buried by the mountain? How can we avoid the trap of the Serpent? One step at a time, I think. Start small, maybe with a few baby carrots. Make an effort to unlearn one bad habit at a time. Make time to be more intentional about worship, prayer and study.
Lent comes around once a year to help us reorder our lives in relationship to God. The bad news is that those “evil inclinations” and “evil habits” don't pay attention to the Church calendar and have a way of cropping up on a daily basis.
The good news is that there's never a bad time to make a new beginning.
Amen.
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