Wednesday, September 23, 2015

17th Sunday After Pentecost, September 20, 2015

Collect for the Day
Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Reflections: These days, Europe is reeling from mass migrations; an unprecedented number of refugees are fleeing Africa and the Middle East because of violence, hunger, and terrible poverty. We are entering a period of serious uncertainty and flux.
European countries are torn by conflicting imperatives: to welcome those who have had to leave everything behind, or to protect the economic and social wellbeing of the nation. You and I face similar struggles on a smaller scale every time we are confronted with need. May we remember that when we respond to the needy, we are responding to Christ himself. 

First Reading: Jeremiah 11:18-20

It was the Lord who made it known to me, and I knew; then you showed me their evil deeds.
But I was like a gentle lamb led to the slaughter.
And I did not know it was against me that they devised schemes, saying,
‘Let us destroy the tree with its fruit, let us cut him off from the land of the living,
   so that his name will no longer be remembered!’
But you, O Lord of hosts, who judge righteously, who try the heart and the mind,
let me see your retribution upon them, for to you I have committed my cause.
 

Reflections: My first impression of the prophetic books—having never actually read them, was that they were tedious, wordy, and repetitious. Bizarre imagery didn’t help.
Then, during my studies at the Anglican School of Theology (in its heyday back in the 1980’s), I actually read them. Funny, how God confronts us with our prejudices. I remember the day I suddenly recognized the text of Jeremiah as poetry.
Now, that was completely different. We don’t bring the same expectations to poetry as we do, say, to a novel or a car repair manual. And because of that, we don’t read it with the same greediness for information. Instead, we allow poetry to wash over us—like music or the colors in a painting. That’s not to say poetry doesn’t have a message, but that it doesn’t speak to the same part of our brain. The most poetic passages in a prophetic text—unlike the passages in Numbers or Leviticus, for example—can drift deep into the soul when we give them the space and the time they deserve. 

Psalm 54

Save me, O God, by your name, and vindicate me by your might.
Hear my prayer, O God; give ear to the words of my mouth.
For the insolent have risen against me, the ruthless seek my life;
   they do not set God before them.
But surely, God is my helper; the Lord is the upholder of my life.
He will repay my enemies for their evil. In your faithfulness, put an end to them.
With a freewill-offering I will sacrifice to you;
   I will give thanks to your name, O Lord, for it is good.
For he has delivered me from every trouble,
   and my eye has looked in triumph on my enemies.
 

Epistle: James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a

Who is wise and understanding among you? Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. Such wisdom does not come down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, devilish. For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.
Those conflicts and disputes among you, where do they come from? Do they not come from your cravings that are at war within you? You want something and do not have it; so you commit murder. And you covet something and cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts. You do not have, because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures.
Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. 

Reflections: St. James, like St. Paul, contrasts the wisdom of this world—cleverness at getting ahead, crushing the competition, looking out for number one—with the wisdom of God. Admittedly, the wisdom of God may not bring any recognizable signs of success. It may even rest in people whom we would never consider successful. But the true reward, surely, is to be at peace with God, a reward that cannot be snatched by competition, only received with gratitude.

Gospel: Mark 9:30-37

They went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, ‘The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.’ But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.
Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, ‘What were you arguing about on the way?’ But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, ‘Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’ Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, ‘Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.’ 

Reflections: It is easy to follow Christ when we can reap rewards. We can feel righteous, be pious, needed, respected, admired, loved. Who wouldn’t want to be great in Christ’s kingdom?
But part of Jesus’ message didn’t appeal to the disciples, so they put it out of mind as soon as possible. We resist it, too. The fact is, we yearn to be somebody. It’s difficult to accept that our deepest “somebodiness” might lie in being entirely dismissed. Or slandered. Or even crucified.
          My mentor Lynn Bauman once told us, “The desire for power—even to do good—is corrupt.” Perhaps the source of real power is the desire to do good. I wonder where that desire comes from.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

13th Sunday After Pentecost, August 23, 2015

Collect for the Day

Grant, O merciful God, that your Church, being gathered together in unity by your Holy Spirit, may show forth your power among all peoples, to the glory of your Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
                                                             
Reflections: It is not division that shows our strength, but unity. We know it is far easier to take our marbles and go home. But it is much more difficult to stay engaged, knowing that the people on the “other side” have an equal right to be heard. It takes not only courage, backbone, and character. It takes self-transcendence—in other words, grace.

First Reading: Joshua 24:1-2a,14-18

Joshua gathered all the tribes of Israel to Shechem, and summoned the elders, the heads, the judges, and the officers of Israel; and they presented themselves before God. And Joshua said to all the people, "Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: ‘Now therefore revere the LORD, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River, and in Egypt, and serve the LORD.’ Now if you are unwilling to serve the LORD, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD."
Then the people answered, "Far be it from us that we should forsake the LORD to serve other gods; for it is the LORD our God who brought us and our ancestors up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, and who did those great signs in our sight. He protected us along all the way that we went, and among all the peoples through whom we passed; and the LORD drove out before us all the peoples, the Amorites who lived in the land. Therefore we also will serve the LORD, for he is our God."

Reflections: I don’t know about you, but so often things get foggy in my head, what with everything I have to do and worry about and hope for and need and want. That is to say, I can be so influenced by my state of mind and heart that I cannot figure out—let alone act on—what is good.
At least for me, clarity can’t be forced (which must make me exasperating). I can’t simply will it, and it doesn’t come just because someone yells at me or threatens me. But suddenly, maybe by accident, someone says something that opens up a different perspective. It frees me from the exhausting loop of thoughts and anxieties. It enables me to see and--choose--what is good.
I think the people of Israel found themselves in a similar situation. Just imagine: a large number of those who had lived in Egypt died in the wilderness. Consequently, many of those who entered the Promised Land were too young to have lived in cities. The memory of how to live in settlements would have faded with the older generation. So the Israelites were faced with figuring out how to stay in one place, rebuild and repair houses, manage property, tend vineyards, negotiate water rights . . .
In contrast, the Canaanites whose cities the Israelites occupied had been adept at urban life; their gods understood the sophisticated needs of a settled civilization (and it didn’t hurt that they weren’t jealous about having shrines in the living room). Compared to Canaanite deities, what did the mysterious and temperamental God of the Israelites have to offer? His track record included a miserable 40-year trek in wasteland. Not stellar. I can imagine the Israelites spinning their dreidels, weighing the odds, hedging their bets. 
         Then Joshua speaks.

Psalm 34:15-22 Benedicam Dominum

The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, * and his ears are open to their cry.
The face of the LORD is against those who do evil, * to root out the remembrance of them from the earth.
The righteous cry, and the LORD hears them * and delivers them from all their troubles.
The LORD is near to the brokenhearted * and will save those whose spirits are crushed.
Many are the troubles of the righteous, * but the LORD will deliver him out of them all.
He will keep safe all his bones; * not one of them shall be broken.
Evil shall slay the wicked, * and those who hate the righteous will be punished.
The LORD ransoms the life of his servants, * and none will be punished who trust in him.

Epistle: Ephesians 6:10-20

Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
Pray in the Spirit at all times in every prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert and always persevere in supplication for all the saints. Pray also for me, so that when I speak, a message may be given to me to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it boldly, as I must speak.

Reflections: St. Paul’s letters make frequent reference to his suffering, imprisonment, and abuse. All inflicted on him by . . . people. So how can he write, “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh”? In this passage, Paul makes it clear that danger to one's physical person is not the real danger. The wellbeing of our soul isn’t threatened by what happens to our bodies—illness, changes of fortune, hunger, pain, even death.
According to Paul, the real opponent is “the wiles of the devil” which we encounter in “rulers . . . authorities . . . cosmic powers, and . . . spiritual forces.” What are these categories? Merely relics of an outdated worldview embraced by few today? Or might we know them by different names? Could we perhaps find them in the temptations of power? willful blindness to injustice? unchecked ideologies? hardness of heart? objectification of others? What would you identify as dangerous to the soul?

Gospel: John 6:56-69

Jesus said, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever." He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum.
When many of his disciples heard it, they said, "This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?" But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, "Does this offend you? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But among you there are some who do not believe." For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him. And he said, "For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father."
Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. So Jesus asked the twelve, "Do you also wish to go away?" Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."

Reflections: Why do we go to church? Surely we gather for comfort, affirmation, fellowship. We come to be confirmed in our faith, to be soothed, to renew our hope. But if that’s true, then what’s the point of Jesus’ “hard sayings?” Even his own disciples found them troubling. Such teachings raise difficulties and more questions than they answer. If the point of worship services were only to comfort and not to challenge, the church would probably excise difficult passages, but it doesn’t.
Because our Sunday lectionary is on a three-year cycle, every triennium we encounter the same readings. But while the words we hear may be the same, we have changed. This repeated exposure helps us internalize a text, incorporate it into our bodies, so we have not only head knowledge, but living knowledge. The reading and rereading of teachings we might actually prefer not to hear invites us to listen to them especially deeply.
So much of modern-day reading is functional. We read for information, for fun, or even simply as drudgery to accomplish (as in an unpleasant school assignment). Way back in the early 6th century, St. Benedict taught a practice of contemplative reading called lectio divina (pronounced lek-si-o) that is still practiced today. 
The purpose of Lectio divina is to train the heart to listen. It allows us to savor a text, to ruminate on it, to dwell in it by carrying it around with us. Without feeling we should memorize, regurgitate, explain, figure out, or interpret the reading, we are free to allow it to unfold in our awareness like a bud unfolds into a flower. The practice of contemplative reading is both listening and prayer; it is a form of listening prayer. Perhaps Jesus’ “hard sayings” are invitations to this sort of reading.


Wednesday, August 19, 2015

12th Sunday After Pentecost, August 16, 2015

Collect for the Day

Almighty God, you have given your only Son to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also an example of godly life: Give us grace to receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work, and to follow daily in the blessed steps of his most holy life; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Reflections: “To receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work.” It’s difficult to be thankful for something you’re immersed in all the time. David and I recently went a month without gas. Not car fuel, natural gas. (It was a grace, really—big gas leak under the house; it got repaired before the whole house exploded). But it mean no heat for water and cooking. Fortunately, we have a microwave, so we didn’t lack hot food completely. Plus, a “cold” shower in a Texas summer isn’t so far below body temperature that it’s traumatic. But even so, now the gas is back on, we’re grateful. I wonder how long before David and I don’t notice anymore.
          Most of the time, we forget the Mystery of Redemption and just get on with our lives. But when those lives bring us to our knees, when God meets us in our desperation, it’s hard to tell where the grace ends and the thankfulness begins. And maybe that’s exactly right.
 

First Reading: Proverbs 9:1-6

Wisdom has built her house,
she has hewn her seven pillars.
She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine,
she has also set her table.
She has sent out her servant girls, she calls
from the highest places in the town,
"You that are simple, turn in here!"
To those without sense she says,
"Come, eat of my bread
and drink of the wine I have mixed.
Lay aside immaturity, and live,
and walk in the way of insight."

Reflections: Though God’s Wisdom is deep, it calls to us all, but few of us are simple enough inside to hear and respond. The rest of us are usually so caught up in what St. Paul calls the “wisdom of this world” that we may as well be deaf.
Divine Wisdom does not demand conformity to particular social or legal criteria, earning power, health, or level of education. Instead, it appeals to us in our humility. It asks us—and shows us how—to be truly and simply human. 

Psalm 34:9-14 Benedicam Dominum

Fear the LORD, you that are his saints, * for those who fear him lack nothing.
The young lions lack and suffer hunger, * but those who seek the LORD lack nothing that is good.
Come, children, and listen to me; * I will teach you the fear of the LORD.
Who among you loves life * and desires long life to enjoy prosperity?
Keep your tongue from evil-speaking * and your lips from lying words.
Turn from evil and do good; * seek peace and pursue it.

Epistle: Ephesians 5:15-20

Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil. So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery; but be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Reflections: To live as a wise person, according to St. Paul, is to live towards God. In his day, apparently, a lot of people wasted their lives in “debauchery.” That may not appeal to most of us today, but you and I have other ways of squandering our lives in foolishness.
          Take cellphones, Facebook, or Twitter, for example. They’re great! But . . . how many times have you noticed people sitting in a restaurant, paying more attention to their screens than to the person sitting with them? And studies show that the experiences (real and fake) that other people post on Facebook can spark resentment and dissatisfaction with our own lives.
          Of course, we don’t need to be plugged in to technology to tune out of our own lives. All sorts of preoccupations, worries, ideologies, and enthusiasms can prevent us from inhabiting the center of our being, the still point in our turning world.
As we know, what makes a rich and rewarding and holy life, is not out there, determined by what we have or think, or whether we measure up. It’s a matter of the unique person God calls us to be right here and now. And it helps if we unplug now and then to listen.

Gospel: John 6:51-58

Jesus said, "I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."
The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" So Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever."

Reflections: Dare we ask what it means to “eat the flesh” and “drink the blood” of Christ? On the literal level, these statements are harrowing. Did you know that early Christians were accused of cannibalism? Even today, I know intelligent, thoughtful people who cannot get past this image, and as a consequence can’t bring themselves to set foot in a church.
          For many of us who attend liturgical churches, though, passages such as Jesus’ discourse on the Bread of Life are sacred utterances of a high order. They speak of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, however we may understand it. For us, it is an invitation, even an exhortation to receive the sacrament, to open ourselves directly and intimately—in body and spirit—to Christ.
We puny people take in the Body and Blood of Christ to become our own body and blood, and are at the same time taken up into God, body and spirit. How mysterious! How astonishing! How beyond comprehension!
And even so, the Eucharist isn’t a magic pill. It is the doorway to the even larger Mystery of God Incarnate. Let’s just chew on that for a while.

 

Thursday, August 13, 2015

11th Sunday after Pentecost, August 9, 2015

Collect for the Day

Grant to us, Lord, we pray, the spirit to think and do always those things that are right, that we, who cannot exist without you, may by you be enabled to live according to your will; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.                                                               

Reflections: A great mystery of human life, that we are utterly dependent on God, and yet are endowed with free will. It would seem that dependence and freedom would be in opposition, cancel each other out. The blessing is this: when our will is freely in line with God’s, we are complete. This wholeness is no one-time achievement, but a glorious unfolding unique to each of us. 

First Reading: First Kings 19:4-8

Elijah went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: "It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors." Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, "Get up and eat." He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The angel of the LORD came a second time, touched him, and said, "Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you." He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God.

Reflections: Elijah has just pulled off the coup of a lifetime: he has humiliated the priests of Baal and Aseroth. He is at the zenith of his career. . . . and yet here he is, on the run and overcome by despair.
Success is risky business; it is easy to stir up feelings of jealousy and resentment (and Elijah’s success was nothing if not ostentatious). But worse, upsetting powerful people can be dangerous business—and Elijah has just upset King Ahab and his ruthless queen, Jezebel. So he may have reached the pinnacle of success, but he’s got good reason to be depressed. He mopes; he moans; he eats and sleeps and moans some more. 
Truth to tell, it doesn’t take something as radical as that to get us into a funk. Any success or high point can send us spiraling down. Once a difficult goal has been achieved, our energy drops, and we are suddenly directionless. If we’ve accomplished something big enough, then we worry that we can never match it, that we’re already becoming a has-been.
          Ultimately, though, Elijah is moved to shake off the ennui, to let the food nourish his spirit as well as his body, and to continue the journey that will take him to the Mountain of God—and to the revelation that awaits him there.
Sometimes we are so paralyzed by anxiety that we can't move at all. We want reassurance that we are going in the right direction. What if we step off the map? 
But is there anywhere we can go from God's presence? Psalm 139 tells us that God is everywhere even before us--awaiting us. Let us trust God to nourish us, to accompany us on our journey wherever that takes us, and most of all to be faithful to the promise of Divine self-revelation that calls us forward.

Psalm 34:1-8 Benedicam Dominum

I will bless the LORD at all times; * his praise shall ever be in my mouth.
I will glory in the LORD; * let the humble hear and rejoice.
Proclaim with me the greatness of the LORD; * let us exalt his Name together.
I sought the LORD, and he answered me * and delivered me out of all my terror.
Look upon him and be radiant, * and let not your faces be ashamed.
I called in my affliction and the LORD heard me * and saved me from all my troubles.
The angel of the LORD encompasses those who fear him, * and he will deliver them.
Taste and see that the LORD is good; * happy are they who trust in him! 

Epistle: Ephesians 4:25-5:2

Putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear.
And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

Reflections: I can imagine a Martian trying to understand Christianity. What is the essence? What does it take to be deeply Christian? He would certainly see a lot of variety. Is it critical to have right beliefs? What about correct ritual? Or good feelings? Acts of discipline and self-denial?
          St. Paul, although a theological genius, is simple and clear. To be a Christian is to live as a Christian—that is, to incarnate Christ in everyday life. And everyday life, it turns out, is the training ground for the soul. 

Gospel: John 6:35, 41-51

Jesus said to the people, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, "I am the bread that came down from heaven." They were saying, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, `I have come down from heaven'?"
Jesus answered them, "Do not complain among yourselves. No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. It is written in the prophets, `And they shall all be taught by God.' Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father.
Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."

Reflections: Although many people read the Bible in one dimension only—the literal meaning—for millennia the Bible has been regularly interpreted on multiple levels. That can be a challenge with many books of the Bible, but the Gospel of John is clearly written to be read on more than one level.
At face value, Jesus speaks about bread (i.e., food), but we can easily see that he is referring to himself as the Eucharist. Full human life is nourished not by food for the body alone, but also for the soul. Even though society (and the health of the economy) insists that we have a right to meet every need and want, we know that stuff doesn’t bring happiness.
In this gospel text, Jesus identifies himself as food for the soul. He nourishes us at the altar. But not there only. Christ comes to us all the time. Usually we're blind to the presence of the Divine. What gets in the way? Most of the time, I we’re just plain distracted. But sometimes, I suspect, it’s the same thing that prevented Jesus’ neighbors from receiving him. 

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

10th Sunday After Pentecost, August 2, 2015

Collect for the Day

Let your continual mercy, O Lord, cleanse and defend your Church; and, because it cannot continue in safety without your help, protect and govern it always by your goodness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Reflections: Just like little children who want to do things on their own, we don’t always recognize that we need protection. Sometimes we underestimate difficulties; other times we’re just willfully blind or in denial. God’s protection may not mean we’ll be saved by a miracle, but at the very least it means we haven’t been abandoned to chaos and meaninglessness.

Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15

The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites said to them, "If only we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger."
Then the LORD said to Moses, "I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not."
Then Moses said to Aaron, "Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites, `Draw near to the LORD, for he has heard your complaining.'" And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the LORD appeared in the cloud. The LORD spoke to Moses and said, "I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, `At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the LORD your God.'"
In the evening quails came up and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, "What is it?" For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, "It is the bread that the LORD has given you to eat.” 

Reflections: How different is the picture of God in this story from the one in our prayerbook. It’s easy to imagine the Israelites suffering, griping, and grousing, and it must have seemed like forever before God did something about it. If God’s so powerful and loving, why does it sometimes take so long? Why God doesn’t just give us what we need when we need it (or before!).
          Of course I don’t know, but I do know this about myself: Desperation drives me to God. When my need and pain have become so acute that I can’t depend on anything or anybody (especially myself), I rediscover God. Now I’m not saying that God sets up terrible situations to increase my faith. (How abusive would that be?) In fact, I’m not saying anything about God at all. But I am saying something about myself: I am fickle, and as long as I am comfortable and entertained, I am complacent. My soul goes into automatic; I am oblivious of my burning need for God.
          When God finally sends relief to the Israelites, imagine their jubilation, their sense of restoration, healing, blessing! Still, I can’t help but wonder: how long before manna and quail become expected, old hat, boring? How long before the Israelites lose their wonder and adjust to a new status quo. It doesn’t take me all that long. What about you?

Psalm 78:23-29

So he commanded the clouds above * and opened the doors of heaven.
He rained down manna upon them to eat * and gave them grain from heaven.
So mortals ate the bread of angels; * he provided for them food enough.
He caused the east wind to blow in the heavens * and led out the south wind by his might.
He rained down flesh upon them like dust * and winged birds like the sand of the sea.
He let it fall in the midst of their camp * and round about their dwellings.
So they ate and were well filled, * for he gave them what they craved.

Epistle: Ephesians 4:1-16

Therefore I, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ's gift. Therefore it is said,

When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive;
                   he gave gifts to his people.

(When it says, "He ascended," what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower parts of the earth? He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all the heavens, so that he might fill all things.)
The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, 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. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people's trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love.

Reflections: Differences. They’re real. That’s a fact that anybody who’s ever lived in a family discovers again and again. Differences are both exciting and disconcerting. Difference awakens us, stretches and challenges us; on the other hand, it also annoys and angers us.
          At our best, we delight to complement each other. At our worst, your way of being drives me crazy. In the middle, well, we bear with each other—with some degree of grace.
St. Paul would have us believe that God has a purpose for differences, has in fact designed difference into humanity from the start. And what is that purpose for our varied gifts and very real differences? It seems that without the other, each of the others whose gifts (and foibles?) are so different from ours, each of us is incomplete.
So what would holiness look like? Would it blanket and muffle our differences? Or would it make them sparkle like dewdrops in the sunlight?

Gospel: John 6:24-35

The next day, when the people who remained after the feeding of the five thousand saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus.
When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, "Rabbi, when did you come here?" Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal." Then they said to him, "What must we do to perform the works of God?" Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." So they said to him, "What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, `He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'" Then Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." They said to him, "Sir, give us this bread always."
Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." 

Reflections: Jesus knows that the people have followed him because he gives them what they want. He hands out free food! But he also knows something they don’t: it isn’t only their stomachs that were hungry; their true hunger is soul-deep. And food (or clothes, or electronics, or whatever fascinates us at the moment) will never, ever satisfy the soul.
* * * * *
          Mtr Karen told a story about a little boy who habitually came home late for dinner. Everyone waited, and the food got cold . . . night after night. Scolding didn’t help.
Now what do you think would be a good lesson for the little boy? Here’s what the family finally did: One evening, he came home to find everyone already seated, their plates piled high. But at his place there was only a slice of bread and a glass of water. Imagine his dismay!
“How clever,” I thought! “The boy needed to learn that behavior has consequences. I’ll bet he never forgot that lesson!”
Well, he never did forget that lesson, because this is what happened next: The father took the boy’s plate—and gave him his own.
The little boy may have ended up with a full belly, but what really fed him was an act of grace.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

9th Sunday After Pentecost, July 26, 2015

Collect for the Day

O God, the protector of all who trust in you, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy: Increase and multiply upon us your mercy; that, with you as our ruler and guide, we may so pass through things temporal, that we lose not the things eternal; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Reflections: Indeed, it is the “things temporal” that wake me up in the night, that grow out of all proportion. I develop tunnel vision; they become ultimate. Remembrance is a grace that puts my concerns in true context. Remembrance is a sacrament, whether we re-member at the altar, or in our fuzzy slippers while we struggle to get the dog outdoors before she pees on the floor. 

First Lesson: 2 Kings 4:42-44

A man came from Baal-shalishah, bringing food from the first fruits to the man of God: twenty loaves of barley and fresh ears of grain in his sack. Elisha said, “Give it to the people and let them eat.” But his servant said, “How can I set this before a hundred people?” So he repeated, “Give it to the people and let them eat, for thus says the Lord, ‘They shall eat and have some left.’” He set it before them, they ate, and had some left, according to the word of the Lord.

Reflections: This story occurs during a famine. Before this account, Elisha accomplishes a number of wonders, including raising the dead son of the Shunammite woman.
I find it surprising that a man would give his grain and bread away rather than keep it for himself and his family. Even more because this man was a stranger to Israel. As Fr. Tony pointed out, he came from a town named after a Canaanite god. Nevertheless, he brings his first fruits to the prophet of Israel’s God.
I can imagine that Elisha’s servant, Gejazi, must have thought his master was nuts to waste the bread on son many hungry people, when it would satisfy a smaller number of people so much better. But God apparently clued Elisha in about something today’s social scientists are discovering. Satisfaction doesn’t depend on how much we have. It depends on how equitably the goods are distributed. We don’t really mind going a little hungry, if everyone else is a little hungry, too. What disturbs us is going hungry while the guy next door drives to a swank restaurant in his new car.
Is it any surprise that according to the Book of Acts, the Early Church shared everything equally?

Psalm 145: 10-19 Exaltabo te, Deus

All your works praise you, O LORD, * and your faithful servants bless you.
They make known the glory of your kingdom * and speak of your power;
That the peoples may know of your power * and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.
Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom; * your dominion endures throughout all ages.
The LORD is faithful in all his words * and merciful in all his deeds.
The LORD upholds all those who fall; * he lifts up those who are bowed down.
The eyes of all wait upon you, O LORD, * and you give them their food in due season.
You open wide your hand * and satisfy the needs of every living creature.
The LORD is righteous in all his ways * and loving in all his works.
The LORD is near to those who call upon him, * to all who call upon him faithfully.

 


Epistle: Ephesians 3:14-21

I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Reflections: We are being rooted and grounded in love; the roots of our inner being are spreading deeply into the nourishing soil of the Divine. God being infinite, we have embarked on a lifelong journey of soul formation, not a short trip that is completed at baptism, or at confirmation, or . . . at any finite destination. Our deepening life in Christ is organic—witness the Eucharist, where we receive His body into ours.  
Paul prays that we may comprehend the full dimensions of Christ’s love. . . that we may understand or know a Mystery that remains beyond the capacity to understand. . . that we may comprehend, encompass, embody the “fullness of God.”
Jesus’ mother Mary has long been known in the Eastern Church as Mater Theou, “Mother of God.” This inscription is placed on all her icons. In addition, there is a beautiful icon of the Virgin standing with her arms raised in prayer. And a circle of Divine Light with an image of a young Christ blessing is at the level of her heart. This is the presence of Christ hidden within her. In this image she is called platytera ton ouranon, she who is “more spacious than the heavens.” He, whom not even the heavens can contain, dwells within her. And this is St. Paul’s prayer for us. 

Gospel: John 6:1-21

Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, "Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?" He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, "Six months' wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little." One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, said to him, "There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?"
Jesus said, "Make the people sit down." Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, "Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost." So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets.
When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, "This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.” When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.
When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, "It is I; do not be afraid." Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.

Reflections: The first reading and the gospel fit so well together, and there’s a lot to consider when we meditation on the miraculous feeding. But my attention is drawn to how differently Philip and Andrew respond to the situation.
Philip strikes me as a realist; he assesses and evaluates the situation, then makes a pronouncement and is done with it. It’s not an emotional issue for him. He doesn’t wring his hands with anxiety or regret.
Andrew seems to be the polar opposite. Apparently a natural optimist like his brother Peter, he almost bursts with enthusiasm: a little boy has some bread and fish! But then he second guesses himself, perhaps a bit self-conscious about his unguarded excitement.
          Jesus seems unaffected by either a realism that would stop him from trying, or a hope that is easily discouraged in the face of so large a task. Maybe it doesn’t matter whether we tend to see the jar half full or half empty. Christ nourishes us in ways we cannot expect, in situations we think are irredeemable.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

8th Sunday After Pentecost, July 19, 2015

Collect for the Day

Almighty God, the fountain of all wisdom, you know our necessities before we ask and our ignorance in asking: Have compassion on our weakness, and mercifully give us those things which for our unworthiness we dare not, and for our blindness we cannot ask; through the worthiness of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.  Amen. 

Reflections: This is one of my favorite collects. It blesses my uncertainty and bewilderment. It reminds me that I don’t have to be right about what’s most needed, that I can simply hold a person or a situation before the God who knows and loves and redeems.
 

First Lesson: 2 Samuel 7:1-14a

When David, the king, was settled in his house, and the LORD had given him rest from all his enemies around him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, "See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent." Nathan said to the king, "Go, do all that you have in mind; for the LORD is with you."
But that same night the word of the LORD came to Nathan: Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the LORD: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, "Why have you not built me a house of cedar?"
Now therefore thus you shall say to my servant David: Thus says the LORD of hosts: I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel; and I have been with you wherever you went, and have cut off all your enemies from before you; and I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place, and be disturbed no more; and evildoers shall afflict them no more, as formerly, from the time that I appointed judges over my people Israel; and I will give you rest from all your enemies.
Moreover the LORD declares to you that the LORD will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come forth from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me.

Reflections:   When the children of Israel entered Canaan, they changed from a wandering people to a settled one. The learning curve must have been huge. How do you settle into one place when you’re accustomed to living in tents and moving from place to place? (And what about property upkeep and landscaping?) They found some guidance by watching the people in neighboring cities, who had been settled for a long time.
Imagine how they must have been viewed by those neighbor—who were already good at mowing the lawn regularly and taking out their garbage carts on time. The Israelites had their own rich cultural heritage, but in the eyes of their neighbors, they must have seemed primitive and stupid. You can imagine the gossip.
In the books of Samuel, we see Israel struggling with the pressure to conform to the customs of the people around them. The obvious choices—a king, a temple—weren’t necessarily God’s choices. Eventually, God gives in and grants Israel a King—Saul (and we know how that turned out).
It’s a similar story with the temple. Every city worth its salt has a temple. Even the curmudgeonly prophet Nathan thinks building a temple is a good idea. At least, he does until God wakes him up at 2:00 in the morning and won’t let him get back to sleep.
          It turns out that whether and when to build a house for God just isn’t David’s business. Later on, another king in another situation . . . but not now. And then . . . here’s the momentous twist: David wants to build God a house, but God won’t let him. Instead, God will build David a house. So much for what David thought was important. In its place: a much greater blessing.  

Psalm 89:20-37 Tunc locutus es

"I have found David my servant; * with my holy oil have I anointed him.
My hand will hold him fast * and my arm will make him strong.
No enemy shall deceive him, * nor any wicked man bring him down.
I will crush his foes before him * and strike down those who hate him.
My faithfulness and love shall be with him * and he shall be victorious through my Name.
I shall make his dominion extend * from the Great Sea to the River.
He will say to me, 'You are my Father, * my God, and the rock of my salvation.'
I will make him my firstborn * and higher than the kings of the earth.
I will keep my love for him for ever, * and my covenant will stand firm for him.
I will establish his line for ever * and his throne as the days of heaven."
"If his children forsake my law * and do not walk according to my judgments;
If they break my statutes * and do not keep my commandments;
I will punish their transgressions with a rod * and their iniquities with the lash;
But I will not take my love from him, * nor let my faithfulness prove false.
I will not break my covenant, * nor change what has gone out of my lips.
Once for all I have sworn by my holiness: * 'I will not lie to David.
His line shall endure for ever * and his throne as the sun before me;
It shall stand fast for evermore like the moon, * the abiding witness in the sky.'

Epistle: Ephesians 2:11-22

Remember that at one time you Gentiles by birth, called "the uncircumcision" by those who are called "the circumcision”—a physical circumcision made in the flesh by human hands—remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.
But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it.
So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.

Reflections: This reading starts with boundaries: ‘us’ and ‘them,’ and the reminder that once, we were ‘them.’ Walls divide. Some are inside, and some outside. Walls create and are maintained by otherness, competition, hostility.
But in Christ, the hostility dissolves ad we find ourselves—despite our differences—one people. Walls gather us into one—a unity all the richer because of our differences.
In Christ, God’s house comes full circle. The wandering tent became fixed on the Temple Mount. But Christians are called to be a pilgrim people; we gather to worship within walls of brick and mortar; but the fruit of worship is the renewal of our souls and bodies, making us into vessels that carry the divine presence back out into the world.  

Gospel: Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.
When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.  

Reflections: I am struck by how Jesus copes with a situation he cannot control. He and his disciples have poured themselves out for others, have had no time for themselves. They’re exhausted and overloaded, in need of silence and solitude for renewal. But they can’t get away. They try to go off, and what happens? A bunch of people have got there before them. Can you spell frustration? Bad mood? Boy, I sure can.
But Jesus doesn’t get angry or grumpy. He doesn’t even give them a stern lecture and send them on their way. How does he do it? I think the key is this: “He had compassion for them.” I don’t think it’s as simple as feeling sorry for them. It seems to signal a complete change, a move from exhaustion to strength, from being pestered and “peopled out,” to taking command—of himself and of the situation.
          I think this compassion is a key because that is the one thing I find works when I am overloaded and all I really want to do is get away, gorge on chocolate, or have a nap. The situation usually occurs when I’ve been working hard, interacting with people for a long time, and I finally get a chance to take a break or eat my lunch, (or go home). And then, someone shows up needing something from me.
          It’s not that I don’t have a choice. I could send them away, tell them to make an appointment, tell them it’s too late. But I serve people who don’t speak English well (and sometimes not at all), many of whom who don’t understand how colleges (and office hours) work, and some of whom have gone to a lot of trouble to find me.
          Ostensibly, I could deal with them quickly, and then do what I wanted. But it’s almost inevitable in my experience that if I try to deal with non-English speakers efficiently, it ends up taking longer. Every attempt to take a short cut requires twice longer to explain because if my mind is really on what I want to do afterwards, I am not taking the time I need for the person right in front of me. As a consequence of this double-mindedness, I experience building frustration (and if I’m not careful, resentment).
The best choice, which is far more effective, is to drop my agenda, and give my full attention to the person at hand. That is, to stop thinking about what I want, and to look at the other with compassion.
And the consequence? I think we all have this experience: even in trying circumstances, when united with Christ in compassion, we can be renewed.