A Fringe and a Cord

Last night at A Bead and a Prayer small group, we talked about what ordinary things, like the beads, move us to think about God. When the Israelites were in their forty-year sojourn in the wilderness, they kept having a tendency to forget God, or at least what God had done for them. At one point God told Moses to speak to the people, telling them to make fringes on the corners of their garments and to put a blue cord on the fringe at each corner, so that they would remember God’s commandments.

A simple thing like a fringe and a blue cord was a tangible reminder of God. The little snow globe of the Pentagon that I bought last year when I was there for Kim’s promotion ceremony is a reminder to me to lift her, all who work there and all involved in our armed forces to God, and pray for peace. A cross that belonged to Don’s grandparents is a reminder to Jen of their faithfulness for so many years of marriage. The little cross that Nancy received at a retreat would be a reminder of God every time she touched it when she put her hand in her pocket.

What are the ordinary things in your life that remind you of God? The bread and the cup, the water remind me how God has worked through such ordinary elements to bring about so much grace and mercy. As you wash your face today, remember how God has used water to bless you. Look around you to find those reminders in the midst of everyday life that God is present and with you.

Numbers 15:39-40

You have the fringe so that, when you see it, you will remember all the commandments of the Lord and do them, and not follow the lust of your own heart and your own eyes. So you shall remember and do all my commandments, and you shall be holy to your God.

Prayer Beads and Grace

I am looking at the prayer beads I made in our Lenten group. They aren’t fancy by any means. I really

like all the prayer beads that everyone made. They are colorful, but I wanted mine to look a bit rough so it has small wooden and black stone beads.

As Barb led us through the process of making them, I found that I was moving ahead before I should. I ended up having to start over because I crimped a tube that needed to stay open until the end. Oops! Maybe that’s a metaphor for my journey. I work on steps, and hear the next step, and think I know what the next one will be, but I get it wrong. Fortunately, I was able to start over and not delay the whole group much.

In my faith journey, thank goodness that there is grace along the way. In my eagerness to progress, I sometimes get ahead of my self, finding that I needed to wait. There are always consequences to that misstep, usually small, sometimes larger.

At Midweek Prayer, we talked about when a veil lifts and we see and know what we have done, we get a taste of truth that does not sit well in our mouths, or our stomachs. For many who are not aware of the grace that helps us deal with the truth, they will often shut the veil and try to forget, or the taste will so overwhelm them they think there is no hope.

The grace is there, waiting to help us accept the truth, but not let it end with only acceptance. It will help us move on towards helping make right what we have done wrong. It will helps us grow in wisdom.

That grace is God’s love, offered to us freely in the fullness of the Three-in-One, giving us life, setting us free, helping us to “grow into the fullness of the measure of the stature of Christ (RSV).” And so the opening of the veil to see the truth is a part of the grace too. May I receive it so.

Ephesians 4:13

Until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ.

Offering Ashes in the World

Yesterday for the second year, we took ashes out into the world. Brian and Jeremy went to Starbucks.

The youth burn last year's palms
to make this year's ashes.

One of them told me about listening to the baristas call customers by name. It seemed a metaphor for being in ministry in the world.

For the first time, two of us offered ashes in the parking lot at church. To me, it seemed like a sacrament simply to be there, watching the people drive by. Each one has a story and a name that God knows. For each car that turned in to the lot, probably a few hundred others passed by. And of those, who know how many saw Nina and me, but we saw them, offering our presence and our prayers. The response of those who received ashes was full of gratitude. We also received a spontaneous hug, and hand warmers from a member of the Marine Band driving by.

After warming our toes and fingers, a few of us gathered in the Chapel for Midweek Prayer and ashes, a time for reflection. After the committal service at the cemetery for Gerry Davies, it seemed appropriate to offer ashes, reminding each of us that we are mortal, and that we are loved and known, calling us to turn around to hear the Good News of grace.

This evening, again in the Chapel, Jeremy and I sat with persons as they came to receive ashes. Some were from our congregation, but more were not. After receiving ashes, they went downstairs to Zumba.

Out of all those we touched today, twice as many were from outside the church as from our congregation. There seems to be a hunger for many people in the world for this offering of grace. I felt privileged to be a part of God’s flow of grace.

Joel 2: 13

Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.

Out of the Depths

In several ways this week has been tough, some ups and more downs--not so much for me, but for people I care about.

I give thanks for love found for a friend.

I grieve for a friend who had bad news about a medical condition, that reminds me all too much about Jeff's journey.

I ache for another friend who had bad news.

We all mourn the loss of our Gerry, while we also celebrate her new life.

I think the psalmist can pray much better than I can right now, and so I join my voice with all of God's people who cry out:

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.

Lord, hear my voice!

Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my

supplications!

If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?

But there is forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;

my soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning.

More than those who watch for the morning, O Israel, hope in the Lord!

For with the Lord there is steadfast love,

and with him is great power to redeem.

It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities. [Psalm 130]

Pray for all who mourn,

for all who sorrow,

for all in distress,

for all need a word of grace.

It's All Too Easy to Otherize Others

I briefly read part of an exchange between two colleagues on Facebook. I only read briefly because, I confess, I still get very uncomfortable with conflict. That is one reason why I host Holy Conferencing.* I have to make myself come face-to-face with my discomfort.

Coming face-to-face is important. When we keep ourselves apart from those who are different from us, it is all too easy for us to otherize people. I do not think that is a real word, but it seems appropriate to me. When I otherize people, I do not have to realize that they have feelings, hopes, dreams, loves, dislikes—just as I do. I can objectify them, and thus make pronouncements on them especially where we differ. When I can begin really to see them, I can enjoy our differences, allowing those differences to inform me about myself, and in the process helping me to come closer to loving my neighbor as myself.

I am only a small way along that journey. For every step I take, I find it so easy to take one back. I pray for grace and mercy as I walk it.

* Here’s a description of what we do in Holy Conferencing: The purpose of these gatherings is not to come up with the definitive answer, or a program that will be successfully presented at our churches. It is a process that helps us gather face-to-face and heart-to-heart, in a non-judgmental way, as we deal with, struggle with, wrestle with different issues. It is a process in which we will hopefully learn to listen to others even when we do not agree. There is no debate, no scoring of points, no experts. And unfortunately there is no way to offer notes to others unable to attend.  It is the face-to-face process that is the goal.  

Luke 10:27-29

He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

The Grace of Persistence

I have been a part of a couple of interesting conversations lately. They both had something of a similar theme—persistence. In one, persistence was regarded as something we do while waiting for moments of grace to enter our lives. In the other, persistence was regarded as a vital part of dealing with difficulties in life.

I think that persistence can well be a grace in our lives. Rather than simply waiting for good things to happen, or seeing just the good things as moments of grace, persistence itself, the act of waiting is a grace. It reminds me of a word that might seem rather old-fashioned these days—biding. An online dictionary refers to bide as archaic and defines it as to “remain or stay somewhere.” It also has a sense of waiting and tarrying.

So often we are trying to hurry through life, wanting to go from one “good” moment to another, instead of abiding, waiting, tarrying. This morning, as I was leaving the house after making sure that it was in pristine order in case someone wanted to see it with their real estate agent, I asked God to please help it sell soon. Then I realized that was not what I needed to pray, so I asked God to help with have patience during this waiting time. What can the grace be for me in this time of waiting? I am not sure yet--that insight usually comes after the fact for me—but I am sure that there is grace here in this moment, and in the very act of waiting.

While I cannot make something happen faster just because I want it to, I can refuse to live into the waiting. If I do that, I will not be open to this moment. I will be like the disciples who kept falling asleep in the garden. And so, my prayer is to bide, to wait, to tarry in this moment, to be open to what the very act of biding can teach me—that the grace of persistence is deeper than I can imagine.

Luke 11:8

I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.

Lessons from a Cypress Swamp

Great American Egret

At the Bethany Center in Lutz, FL, there is a cypress swamp between the cottages where we stay by Lake Mary and the building we meet in by Lake Martha. My 3-4 round trips a day give me about 2 miles total. From a bridge above the swamp, we can stop and observe. This afternoon, Larry, one of the facilitators, gave us a visual tour.

The theme of this workshop or Clergy Institute is The Geography of Grace, looking at our own lives and at our communities. After we had spent about 30 minutes observing and learning, Larry asked us to reflect on what the swamp might have to teach us about our own community.

In that small space thrives an enormous ecosystem. What we can see above the water in the trees has great diversity, as does the water level, and underneath the water. Spanish moss depends on the trees, while the tree does not really depend on the moss but supports it and tolerates it. How important is it to support ministries, programs or groups that may not “feed” the church directly still be an important part of the ecosystem to support?

Since the roots of the cypress trees are under water and cannot readily access oxygen, the tree raises up “knees” to absorb the vital gas. These knees might be right next to the tree trunk, or they might be several feet away. A knee that sits in the middle of several trees could belong to anyone of them. What ministry, program or group that appears unconnected really could be a vital source of oxygen and therefore life to the congregation?

I can apply the same reflections to my own life as well as our community. This is a deep time, and I am grateful to you all for allowing me to deepen in this way.

1 Chronicles 16:32-34

Let the sea roar, and all that fills it; let the field exult, and everything in it. Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth. O give thanks to the Lord, for God is good; for God’s steadfast love endures forever.

My Hymn of Praise

As a part of a presentation for one of my Doctorate of Ministry classes this month, I wrote out a brief version of my theology. It is not intended to be all-encompassing or appropriate for a systematic theology course. It does express what I have deeply believed and finally came to the ability to express it through what I have learned from and with the amazing Jennifer Secki Shields, our beloved director of Christian education. Please take my expression as a hymn of praise for our God who is Three-in-One.

 Our God is Trinity--everlasting, eternal relationship of the Three-in-One--in which abides such love that seeking more to love--power of love bursting forth - waves of love continue to resound throughout 13.7 billion years of creation shaping the stars and planets, and eventually the plants and animals.

 From the dust of the stars and this earth, we were shaped and breathed into the image of this God to live in relationship with each other as reflections of the Three-in-One who made us.

 We turned away from this holy love, marring, distorting the reflection.

 God called forth a people to be witnesses and a light to shine forth to draw all peoples to this source of light--the one who is the Beginning, the Life and the Purpose.

 We continued to turn away, even though prophets and teachers called us back.

 As we have turned away, God’s love remained steadfast--In love, this One who set all creation into motion chose to come among us, be born among us, grow up among us, teach us, heal us, feed us, and offer himself for us, giving his life when we required a sacrifice--forgiving us as we demanded his death.

 Love would not be silenced, and rose to new life, calling us again into a relationship that brings healing and wholeness, a remaking of the image of this Holy Love.

 As God’s forgiven and set-free people we are now called to be a sign by living in ways that invite others into relationships that reflect the Creating, Self-giving and in-Spiriting Love that heals and redeems without limit.

Psalm 104:33-34

I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.

May my meditation be pleasing to God, for I rejoice in the Lord.

Disorientation

I popped my head into Kate's office in my desire to find a warm place to be for a few minutes since I need to stay away from the house. She asked if there was no pastor's note this week. That's how disoriented I have been all week.

Disorientation. Discombobulation. Those are the keys words for this week. Last Friday, all the packing away, with some things yet to be sorted, was done. Our house went on the market.

"We are living in someone else's house," one of my sons said. "Or what will soon be someone else's house."

We have to keep it spotless, ready to show at a moment's notice, with us out of it. Then the snow and the cold came. Through days of no school we had to find places to be for most of the day, just in case.

Walter Brueggemann, Old Testament scholar, talks about the cycle of orientation, disorientation and reorientation for the Hebrew people. They are oriented towards God; they turn away and are called back; they are reoriented towards God.

Our orientation has been towards having a house of our own after years of living in parsonages. We have lived in disorientation for the past five plus years since Jeff was first diagnosed with  cancer. We are being reoriented to what's important. A home is more than a house. A home is where we are together, wherever that may be. Home in the biggest sense is being together in the presence of our God who is Holy Triune Community.

This process of disorientation is not a bad thing but it is uncomfortable as we are slowly moved towards a new orientation. It helps me to remember where my true home, my true center is to be.

Psalm 131
O Lord, my heart is not lifted up,
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
 But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.
 O Israel, hope in the Lord
from this time on and forevermore.

Sorting

Sorting through decisions is not easy work. I had been thinking about this for quite some time. The weight of responsibility of all the maintenance for house and yard is more than I want to carry by myself. Yes, I have a great handyman who has worked with us for nine years, a really terrific housecleaner for the last two, and a young college student’s lawn service for the last year. They have made an incredible difference, but still the responsibility for all the decisions is mine.

Like many decisions in my life, I mull over them, trying them on in my mind, until the time seems right. To other folks, it might look like a spur-of-the-moment move, but generally it is not. So the house is going on the market, and we have been working hard to get it ready.

Sorting through a house is not easy work. Thanks to friends who have helped, we have made tremendous progress. In a way, I wanted it all to be sorted before this weekend, but with my classes these last two weeks, I couldn’t get it all done. I have realized that since the attic got sorted in a big way last Saturday, I now have space to put things up there that still need decisions made. Part of the problem with this process is that I when I hold an object in my hand, I remember where it came from, and what Jeff and I were doing. Memories can make it really hard to downsize. I keep reminding myself that while things may help me remember, they themselves are not the memories.

Sorting through a life is not easy work. What are the memories that bring joy? Which bring sadness? Or laughter? Or regret? Where are the tracks of grace? The hints of hope?

While the process of moving from the house that Jeff, the boys and I made into our home will be complete one day in the not too distant future, the process of examining my life will never be complete. Each new turning of the way brings new insights and understanding. The story is told in ever new ways because in all the decisions, in all the things, in all the parts of my life, God is ever present, nudging me on, walking with me, calling me forward to a life a purpose. And there is the grace.

Psalm 78.35:

They remembered that God was their rock, the Most High God their redeemer.

Deep Listening

Deep Listening: what does this mean to you?

This week, we began our exploration of spiritual practices for resurrection in the Recovery and Spirituality series. As I typed those two words, deep listening, my mind made a quick connection with deep massage when the depths of the muscles are manipulated. It requires a degree of relaxation and vulnerability that a cursory shoulder rub does not. And so too deep listening needs a willingness to drop some of the barriers that keep us at a surface level.

When we listen on the surface, our minds are often quick to make judgments and comments. We are formulating our response while only keeping half an ear cocked. We are not giving the gift of our full attention.

I can think of times when I have not been able to listen deeply. Sometimes it is because I am more desirous of making a good impression than of really listening. I can also think of times when I have not listened deeply because doing so would mean being accountable for the heart of the other. At even other times, I did not listen deeply because I was afraid of what I would hear.

As we explored why deep listening would be a spiritual practice for resurrection, Jen said resurrection is something so new that we cannot have any idea what it is like; thus we cannot have already decided what we think or shaped our responses. I like that. If I truly give my attention and am present to another person, to myself, or to God, then I will hear something new and surprising, not just something on the surface.

Help us explore empathy as a spiritual discipline for resurrection next Wednesday at 7:30 p.m. This Sunday, 1/12 at 10 a.m., we will consider powerlessness.

Song of Songs 8:13

O you who dwell in the gardens, my companions are listening for your voice; let me hear it.

Stepping from Old to New

We’ve just taken the first step into a new year. I am more mindful of change this time around. My sons are growing into young men. I watch with pride as they mature. There is knowledge I can try to share with them about these next steps in their lives, but unless knowledge is accompanied by wisdom it might not illuminate their paths well.

I can say the same thing about myself in the next steps in my life. I can gather as much information as possible but still I need wisdom. So I turn to an ages-old spiritual practice—examination of conscience. It is actually a good thing to do each night, but I want to look at my year. I have modified one that I learned when I was involved in the Walk to Emmaus. Maybe some of these questions can help you as well:

• ·      Have my thoughts and actions been full of grace?
• ·      How did I face problems that arose—

o   Did I try to power my way through them on my own?

o   Did I seek wise guidance?

o   Did I learn from those problems?

• ·      Did I stay close to the means of grace God has given us?
• ·      Did I reach out in service to others?
• ·      Where did I find joy?

Somehow in the action of typing these questions out, I find a bit more peace than I felt before. When things loom as an indistinct mass, they can feel threatening. When I can parse them out a bit, I can get a sense of perspective. God does not ask me to take on the whole world, past, present and future. God asks this moment of me.

Proverbs 2.6:

For the Lord gives wisdom;
from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.

On the Second Day of Christmas

On this second day of Christmas, my true love gives me to an amazing gift of grace that never stops giving. The light has come into the world, and darkness shall not, shall not, shall not overcome it! I say that with confidence even in the moments that I do not feel it. Thank goodness God’s mercy does not rely upon my emotions, but upon God’s own goodness.

In Sunday’s sermon, I quoted from something I had read: “The mystery of incarnation is itself a sign, pointing us toward resurrection. To stop the story at the manger mistakes the sign for the final destination.”¹ God becomes one of us in Jesus to bring us more than a birthday celebration. Jesus is God-with-us in order to bring us into full relationship, unbound and set free, with God and with each other.

Also on this second day of Christmas, I get to see my family in Texas, and meet my great-nephew for the first time. As Max and I fly, I offer hopes that we can see all the blessings in our lives, and offering blessing to others.

Joyeux Noël

John 1:14

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

---

¹ MELINDA A. QUIVIK & MARTHA E. STORTZ (2013-01-01). Abingdon Theological Companion to the Lectionary (Year A): Preaching Year A (Kindle Location 558-559). Abingdon Press. Kindle Edition.

A Sense of Loss at Christmas

Several years ago, before our boys arrived on the scene, I would find myself somewhat disappointed on Christmas morning. My parents would be with us for Christmas Eve and morning, and they always had a slew of gifts for each other—especially Daddy who loved surprising my mother with gifts. [I think that actually came from the year he gave her a popcorn popper as her Christmas gift, when he was the one who really liked popcorn. He learned his lesson well.]

I thought maybe I felt disappointed because they were still opening gifts long after Jeff and I were done. So one year, we decided to concentrate on small gifts in order to extend the joy of opening presents. Even though we delighted each other with thoughtful and fun gifts, I still felt disappointed. Doesn’t that sound crass and ungrateful?

As I reflected on my feelings, I realized that there was always a sense of loss for me at Christmas, and I discovered what it was. The one year my family had driven to Alabama for Christmas rather than my mother’s parents coming to us was the year Granddaddy had a heart attack in late summer and was not supposed to drive long distances. We had Christmas morning between their house and my cousins’ house three doors down. Christmas dinner was midday at their house. For the evening meal, we all drove in separate cars to my cousins’ other grandparents. Dinner was delayed as we kept waiting for Granddaddy and Grary to arrive. They never arrived. As they drove, a car ran a stop sign and hit their car, throwing them from their vehicle. Granddaddy died the next day. Grary was not hurt as badly.

From that time on, Christmas has always had a bit of a feeling of loss. Now that both my parents are gone and Jeff has died, that is a reality not only for me, but for my boys as well. I do not really get into the gifts as much. It is far more important for me to be with the people I love. It is there that I experience Emmanuel—God with us.

My hope for each of you this Christmas is that you allow God’s Spirit to abide in you so that even in moments of disappointment and loss, you will find the deep joy that is God’s gift for you.

Isaiah 9:2

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined.

O Come, Emmanuel!

On Wednesday evenings at our small group we have been watching some short videos of people talking about Advent. Tonight, it was Bill Young who wrote The Shack. He started off by saying it’s about the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit opening their circle to include a 14 year-old girl, asking her if she would be a part of their plan.

Then he talked a bit about why God came among us, and said something about wrath, that it is not what most people think it is. God’s wrath is not punitive, but saving. He told a story about a friend of his who was in the woods when wasps started stinging him. He began yelling for his mom. When he saw her running towards him, if he had not known her he would have said she was angry enough to kill him. Her anger was about his situation and pain, and she came to find him and save him. What a different take on wrath!

Think about that this Advent. God has come to find us. Emmanuel—God with us—has come to be with us. Not only has God come, but God continues to come, and continues to be with us in the Spirit.

Oh what joy, deep—not bouncing up-and-down—but deep, deep joy! This is what my spirit needs. O come, O come, Emmanuel!

Matthew 1.23:

“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means, “God is with us.”