By Derek Olsen

The 1979 American Book of Common Prayer offers us a vision—one of many possible visions—of what the Christian life can look like. It’s a vision of a life lived in liturgical time, grounded daily by adaptations of monastic hours of prayer at morning, noon, evening, and night, punctuated by Eucharists on Sundays and Holy Days, of the great transitions—entrance into the church, coming of age, commitment, and death—lived in the midst of Christian community. It’s a life centered in the Spirit, steeped in the psalms, yet spacious enough for people who live in the world with families, jobs, responsibilities. And yet—it’s not easy. It’s a vision; it’s rarely reality.

The basic pattern found in our prayer book is not new to us, of course, but has been handed down for centuries. This pattern, this vision, has been (and is) at the heart of every prayer book of every Anglican church—and it comes from a yet older source. It represents the vision of the great monastic tradition that extends from St. Anthony of Egypt through John Cassian most clearly and concisely captured by St. Benedict and lived by thousands upon thousands through the ages. It’s a vision of a life of Christian service bolstered by liturgical prayer and spirituality.

The difficulty, the tension, of holding a life of prayer together with a life of work is not new to our generations either. Rather, the monastic tradition from its inception struggled with the balance between Benedict’s great tripod: work, prayer, and study. Sometimes they succeeded; sometimes they strayed. And the reform movements—the Cistercians, the Carthusians, the Trappists, and so forth—were all efforts to correct the balance, to keep the tradition centered in Christ.

Our prayer book sets before us a vision. Our challenge is to embrace the vision, to take it into our lives, to conform our lives to its pattern that it may draw us deeper into the life of God and the mind of Christ. It’s not easy—but neither are we on our own. The Spirit speaks to us in many ways, including through the lessons of the past, offering a monastic wisdom for a modern world. From that storehouse of experience I’d like to offer three disciplines.

Stability

The discipline of stability flies in the face of our current consumer culture. The consumer culture mentality tells us that we should not be satisfied with anything less than what we want when we want it; if you’re not completely satisfied, go somewhere else, do something else. The monastic mentality puts formation—a process that occurs slowly over time—in the foreground. It reminds us that growth flows from grounding—being grounded in relationships, in communities, and in practices. (Speaking of relationships and communities, there is a series of long posts that could be written on stability in relation to local church communities, global ecclesial bodies, and Christian family life—but that’s for another day…)

Stability in regard to the prayer book vision of life means finding a pattern and dwelling inside of it. It means discipline and constancy. My perennial temptation is to be a liturgical wanderer, always looking for the next neat liturgy or form of prayer—but stability draws me back. Stability insists that whatever my other pursuits my true home is fixed for only then will it shape and mold me. It means committing to a set of liturgies not until I get tired of it, or until I find the next new one, but for a space of time measured in seasons and years.

Stability is praiseworthy—but it can’t work on its own. Stability unmonitored can turn to stagnation. Alternatively, stability may be counter to our spiritual nourishment if we fall into a toxic environment or practice. To be life-giving, stability must be governed by the next discipline:

Obedience

If stability is counter-cultural, this one doesn’t follow too far behind. We don’t want other people telling us what to do, especially in a realm like religion and spirituality. After all, don’t we know what we need better than anyone else?

Well, actually…

I ‘m constantly amazed at the almost daily verification of the simple truth that humans have a boundless capacity for self-deception. We think we know why we do what we do—but we are black-belt masters in the arts of rationalization and self-justification. Why do we do the good that we do? Is it from pure altruistic motives like we tell ourselves—or for what we get out of it…like that little thrill of pride at observing what spiritual and holy people we are? The counter to our own efforts at self-deception is obedience, to turn the reins over to another not caught within our internal web of justifications but one who, seeing the web with compassion, can teach us to use it to our spiritual advantage.

In the monastery it is the abbot. For we who live outside monastic walls, it’s a bit more difficult. A spiritual director, a confessor to whom you can bare your soul, these must take the place of the abbot for us. Sometimes your parish priest can fill this role—but not all have the training or experience, and another person may serve as a better guide. (Your diocese may have a listing of trained spiritual directors in your area—try the website or give them a call…) Your spiritual director can guide you as you seek a liturgical rhythm, pushing you when you need it or cautioning you from too heavy a load.

Sometimes a group of trusted friends who make a covenant to follow the same practices and to meet to discuss the joys and struggles can fill this place. Obedience, then, is not necessarily to one person but to the group and its common discipline. A classical model is provided by that famous priest who strove to be “Anglican in earnest”—John Wesley—with his rules for the united societies.

Stability and Obedience are disciplines with a purpose. They open up the space for the third:

Conversion of Life

Stability of place and liturgy with a skillful guide is beneficial—only when we open ourselves to it. The best, most spiritual environment in the world will not draw our souls to God if we refuse to let go. The Spirit moves as it wills, but we must look for signs of its passing and feels its breath on our face and heart.

The best of liturgies, the most poignant of Scriptures, remain only words on the page if we do not put them into practice. Those who criticize liturgical prayer as an empty piling of words are not wrong if we are not engaging those words, rolling them around within us, and embodying them to the world. This is the call of conversion of life—to not just see the footsteps of Christ but to follow them, to tread the way of the cross.

Our received common wisdom tells us that the monastic vows are poverty, chastity, and obedience—and the common wisdom is half right. These are the vows of the friars, the mendicant orders like the Franciscans and Dominicans who arose in the 12th century. The older vows, the vows of Benedict, are these three: stability, obedience, and conversion of life. As they have grounded monastic life for centuries, these same disciplines offer grounding for we who seek to live into the vision of Christian possibility presented by our prayer book.

Derek Olsen is completing a Ph.D. in New Testament (with a healthy side of Homiletics) at Emory University. .His reflections on life, liturgical spirituality, and being a Gen-X dad appear at Haligweorc.

Monday, June 20, 1011 -- Week of Proper 7, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 972)
Psalms 89:1-18 (morning) 89:19-52 (evening)
1 Samuel 5:1-12
Acts 5:12-26
Luke 21:29-36

Today's psalm for Morning Prayer opens with a singular proclamation. "Your love, O God, for ever will I sing; from age to age my mouth will proclaim your faithfulness." (89:1) It is a good thing to open the day with a cry of love, a commitment to trust that God's love is underneath all that is.

In both of our New Testament readings today there is a scene of early morning teaching -- a model of grounding in love and trust. Luke offers a brief closing at the end of Jesus' teaching in the temple. Luke concludes the section saying, "And all the people would get up early in the morning to listen to (Jesus) in the temple." In the passage from Acts, the disciples enter the temple at daybreak to continue with their teaching following their angelic release from prison.

Every enduring religion understands the mystery of the dawn. When life begins again each day it is good to recall who we are and whose we are -- to remember the teaching. For Christians, that teaching is centered in love. "Your love, O God, for ever will I sing." St. Augustine distinguished the Christian way from other competing religious paths as a heart-centered life which revolves around divine love. Augustine insisted that the scripture teaches nothing but charity and must be interpreted through the lens of love.

There is a kind of coherence that happens to us when we start the day grounded in the fundamentals, renewed in an intentional trust in God who is love. We can start our day as Dante ends his Divine Comedy, with our desire and our will aligned with "the Love that moves the sun and the other stars."

Luke gives us a picture of that coherent life of trust under love. As Peter and the other disciples go about their daily chores, there are "signs and wonders." Other people experience their coherence and become more whole. I can sense that. There are certain people I know who seem to change the energy in a room when they arrive. There is a presence about them that makes for peace and possibility. I can also think of a few people who seem to provoke chaos and confusion by their mere presence. "Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near." (Lk. 21:29f) What is it about these people who can bring coherence into a room even before they speak?

As I think about some of the people who are models of coherence for me, I recognize that they are people who are grounded in something transcendent. They are self-defined, but they define themselves by something greater than their own self. They can answer like Peter and the apostles, "We must obey God rather than any human authority." (Lk. 21:29b) Sometimes it feels like simply being in their shadow raises my sense of hope and possibility. They remind me of my own transcendent alignment, and I am refreshed by the divine love that moves my center as it moves these people whom I look upon as some of my "stars."

All of our readings today proclaim the power of the transcendent in the midst of frustrations. Jesus' morning teaching includes warnings of wars and insurrections, conflicts and persecutions, strains throughout the natural world. He tells us to guard our hearts so we are not "weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life," the distractions that make us unmindful and sleepy. In Acts, the disciples are being hassled and even detained by the authorities. And we know there is a shadow from the later verses in Psalm 89 when the psalmist will lament that God has "cast off and rejected your anointed."

Yet we make the morning cry, "Your love, O God, for ever will I sing." We reassert our trust in love in the presence of so much that seems broken, threatening or even ominous. We might even sing a verse from Mississippi poet William Alexander Percy, "The peace of God, it is no peace, but strife closed in the sod, Yet let us pray for but one thing -- the marvelous peace of God." (Hymn 661)

Your love, O God, for ever will I sing; from age to age my mouth will proclaim your faithfulness.

For I am persuaded that your love is established for ever;
you have set your faithfulness firmly in the heavens. (Ps. 89:1-2)

May I set my life this morning firmly on the foundation of the love of God which grounds all that is and all that I am. May I be one of the coherent ones today; one who can bring peace and possibility to the people and situations I will encounter. Maybe as I go about my daily chores, I can be awake enough to see "signs and wonders," even in the inevitable frustrations and strifes that surround our way. It is day. The night is past. Life renews. Underneath it all, there is nothing, but love.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011 -- Week of Proper 7, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 972)
Psalms 97, 99, [100] (morning) 94, [95] (evening)
1 Samuel 6:1-16
Acts 5:27-42
Luke 21:37 - 22:13

Twenty years ago I was on the Cursillo National Committee. There was a resolution proposed to exclude non-celibate gay Episcopalians from positions of leadership in Cursillo. I argued in vain against the resolution. A majority of the committee believed that homosexual love was sinful and that leaders with such a character defect would be flawed leaders. They believed they were following God's will and the mandate of scripture.

When we met again, two gay leaders in Cursillo came to visit the committee to ask us to reconsider our decision. One was a woman who had been an exemplary and significant leader in Atlanta and in Georgia. Her work spoke for itself. She had showed herself to be the kind of leader Cursillo hoped to raise up in the church. She was a lesbian. The other person was a gay man, a priest from New Jersey. He too was committed to the Cursillo method -- its principles of evangelism and spiritual growth -- but he exercised leadership in a more local capacity.

For many on this committee, this priest's witness was their first opportunity to hear the testimony of a gay Christian. It is a common story. He grew up in the Church, loving God and following Christ as best he could. His own experience of his sexual orientation has been at odds with what he had been taught in the church. He resisted his natural inclinations, believing them to be sinful and wrong.

Like so many other gay men, he married his best friend. He had been open with her about his attraction to men. She loved him and he loved her. She was certain, and he hoped, that with God's help, they would overcome his feelings, and they would become a loving, traditional family. In fact, they were a loving, traditional family. They maintained a constant and deep affection, though there was little sexual passion. They raised their children in a loving, nurturing household. But deep at the core of their relationship, and deep at the core of his being, something true was being denied and repressed.

When he finally faced and accepted his sexual orientation, he and his wife agreed to a divorce. She wanted more from her spousal relationship than he could give her; he wanted to love fully and completely. They remained dear friends.

He met someone with whom he could be committed as a life partner, and they had been together for many years now, loved and accepted as a couple by their families and by their church. He had experienced Cursillo as a profound blessing in his life, and he felt deep hurt that he was being told to give up his leadership in the group.

With a poignancy that bordered on despair, he closed his testimony with the argument from Gamaliel that we read today from Acts 5. The church is in a place of disagreement and discernment, he said. I tell you that I love Jesus Christ, and I follow him as my Lord and Savior, he said. I do so as a gay man in a committed relationship. I find Christ manifest in my loving relationship with my partner and in my ministry in Cursillo. I realize that there are others who say that my relationship is a sin, but I experience it as grace from God.

The priest cited the words of Gamaliel addressing another religious council, addressing a group who was certain that condemning the followers of Jesus was to obey God's will and to follow the mandate of scripture. Gamaliel urged caution, citing two other messianic movements that had fizzled after making great claims. "So in this present case," Gamaliel said, "I tell you, keep away from these men and let them alone; because if this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them -- in that case you may even be found fighting against God!" (Acts 5:38-39)

"Please," the gay priest gently urged our committee, "just leave us alone. Don't throw us out. Wait and see. Watch us; watch me and my relationship and my ministry. If we are not of the Spirit -- if we are not of God -- we will fail. We will fall of our own weight. But, if we are of God..." His words faltered as he struggled to keep his composure. "Just leave us alone. See what God will do. Let God be the judge." It was a moving testimony.

We broke for noonday prayers and lunch. It was our practice to read the second reading of the Daily Office during noonday prayers. The lector began to read. It was this story from Acts 5, the story of Gamaliel. Chills went up my spine.

I glanced back at the priest who just a few moments ago had been speaking these very words. His eyes were closed. A gentle smile of thanks came to his mouth. He tilted his head up as though gesturing thanks to God. When he opened his eyes, he blinked back tears. So did I. A woman across the aisle from me let go a little gasp. The Word of God had spoken to us that day.

That afternoon our committee reversed the policy.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011 -- Week of Proper 7, Year One
Alban, First Martyr of Britain, c. 304
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog:

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 972)
Psalms 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30 (morning) 119:121-144 (evening)
1 Samuel 7:2-17
Acts 6:1-15
Luke 22:14-23

Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." (Lk. 22:19)

Take. Bless. Break. Give. The four-fold action of the Eucharist is something that has become profoundly important to me. It is a pattern for life.

Take. The 18th century spiritual director Jean Pierre de Caussade urged his listeners to give themselves to the present moment with a radical acceptance. Trust that God is always doing the best that God can do within the limitations of creation and our own sin. Accept the present moment, he said, as the sacrament of God's presence. If we are to know God and serve God, it can only be here and now within the circumstances of the present moment. So let go of the struggle of resentment and judging, and accept what is as the context for our experience of God in our lives. Within this moment, in these circumstances, God presents us our communion with the divine.

Abandon yourself to the present moment, Caussade says, and simply intend to do one thing -- to do God's will. And what is God's will? He says it can be one of three things: Either to do some present duty, or to enjoy some present joy, or, in the dark mystery of God, occasionally it is God's will for us to suffer something for the sake of God in the spirit of Christ's cross. When we are doing God's will in the present moment, we are doing our part -- we are doing everything we can to bring near the Reign of God.

It all starts with Acceptance. "Take." Accept this moment as the crucible of the divine presence and will.

Bless. In Hebrew tradition to bless something is to give thanks for it. At a meal someone will "give the blessing." They will make a prayer of thanksgiving over the food. Whenever anything is received with thanksgiving, it is blessed; it is consecrated. Thanksgiving is the characteristic Christian stance before the world. We say in our Eucharistic Prayer, "It is right, and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere to give thanks..." (BCP, p. 361) To accept this moment and to bless it in a spirit of thanksgiving to God is to consecrate the moment, to make it holy. Every moment can be holy.

Break. The word "sacrifice" literally means "to make holy" -- from sacra ("sacred rites") and facere ("to do, to perform, to make"). The bread must be broken to be shared. Offering precedes giving. Jesus shows us the path of death and resurrection. For me, the breaking is always a form of willingness. I must be willing to surrender my own self-centeredness in order to enter into something greater. That sacrifice seems always to be a breaking open into an encounter with the divine, with holiness.

Give. All of life is gift. We have been given all that we are and all that we have. How can we give ourselves, and continue the generative process?

Each moment of this day will contain a Eucharistic opportunity for us to take, bless, break and give. What is this moment about right now?

Friday, June 24, 2011 -- Week of Proper 7, Year One
The Nativity of Saint John the Baptist
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog.

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)
EITHER the readings for the Nativity of John the Baptist, p. 998
Morning Prayer: Psalms 82, 98; Malachi 3:1-5; John 3:22-30
Evening Prayer: Psalm 80; Malachi 4:1-6; Matthew 11:2-19

OR the readings for Friday of Proper 7, p. 972
Psalms 102 (morning) 107:1-32 (evening)
1 Samuel 9:1-14
Acts 7:17-29
Luke 22:31-38

I chose the readings for the Nativity of St. John the Baptist

It is the feast of the birth of John the Baptist. Six more months of shopping until Christmas. Luke's gospel says that Mary's cousin Elizabeth became pregnant six months before the visit of the Angel Gabriel to Mary, so the church marks John's birth six months before the feast of the Nativity of Jesus.

John's father Zechariah was also visited by Gabriel, who told him of the coming birth. But Elizabeth was very old, and it was too much for Zechariah to imagine. He was struck speechless until the child was eight days old and ready to be presented for his circumcision. Then Zechariah opened his mouth to prophecy in the words we call the Benedicutus (Canticle 16 in the Prayer Book, p. 92).

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; *
he has come to his people and set them free.
...You, my child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High, *
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way,
To give his people knowledge of salvation *
by the forgiveness of their sins.
In the tender compassion of our God *
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,
To shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, *
and to guide our feet into the way of peace.

With the birth of a baby, hope springs anew. What shall this little one become? What shall he see? What will she do? What changes will come? Hope springs anew. We imagine possibilities; we prophecy. We ask God's tender compassion to come to this little one as we feel the dawn from high break upon us. Will this be a child who will help guide our feet into the way of peace? ...one who will shine in dark places and bring new life into our deathly shadows?

I'm feeling Zechariah-ish this morning because last night across the world where it was already this morning, my first grandchild was born. My son lives in Taiwan. We've been waiting for little Laura (Wu Qin) like Elizabeth and John waited. Being that far away, there was much speechlessness. (Thank God for Skype and email.)

When her dad announced her full English name, it was a surprise. We knew what her first name would be -- Laura, a derivation of my grandfather Lawrence. We didn't know her middle name. She will be Laura Jo Ann -- named also for my mother. Memories sparkle, and the heritage of rich character speaks blessings of hope upon this new mystery. May she have some of the qualities of her namesakes'.

May she also come to the wisdom of this other ancestor with whom she shares a birthdate. May she quickly come to the understanding that John expresses at the end of today's morning reading appointed for his Office. John speaks first of joy -- joy grounded in the joy of the Christ. John understands his identity. "I am not the Messiah." (It takes us all a while, if ever, to realize we are not God; we are not the center of the universe.) Then, in joy, John says, "He must increase, but I must decrease."

However we may internalize the identities we are given by our families, circumstances and environment, we have a larger identity to put on. We are invited to put on Christ. In Christ, we become fully the beloved child God creates us so uniquely to be. May Laura Jo Ann know herself to be loved by God even better than her doting family can love her. May she hold her self lightly, and delight in God's delight of her. May she escape some of the gravity that we humans inflict upon ourselves through pride and fear and control. May those decrease as love-incarnate increases.

May you, my child, also be called a "prophet of the Most High" to "go before the Lord to prepare his way." To increase his salvation and forgiveness, to dwell in the tender compassion of our God, to bring light like the dawn to dispel any darkness, and to walk in your own manner into the way of peace.

Each day is a feast of Nativity. Not only are new souls being born around the globe, but we too awaken to the dawn of a new life given to us in a new day. What shall we become? What shall we see? What shall we do? Hope springs anew. May God's compassion surround us as each of us begins today's walk, that God may guide our feet into the way of peace this new day.

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; he has come to his people and set them free.

Monday, June 27, 2011 -- Week of Proper 8, Year One
Cornelius Hill, Priest and Chief among the Oneida, 1907
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 972)
Psalms 106:1-18 (morning) 106:19-48 (evening)
1 Samuel 10:17-27
Acts 7:44 - 8:1a
Luke 22:52-62

There is something reassuring about the story of Peter's denials. Peter holds a place of unique leadership in Christian history and memory. He became the leader of the post-resurrection movement. Yet part of Peter's story is the remembrance of his failure at a crucial moment. When Jesus most needed his trusted friend, Peter denied him three times. Peter's healing and restoration is a comfort to all of us who have failed, who have not lived up to our intentions and our relationships. It is also an inspiration to all of us who have been betrayed.

Sometimes we do not live up to our values. Under pressure, we sometimes cave in and do destructive things. Save us from the time of trial.

There is a temptation in failure to allow conscience and pride to turn a transient and momentary failure into something permanent and defining. Peter's resilience is a model for us. Yes, his failure was great. Like Judas, he failed and betrayed Jesus. When his time of testing arrived, his courage withered. All true.

But Peter did not let that failure define him. He was able to reclaim his principles. He was able to stand tall again and act as a leader, with courage and confidence.

I like the story in John's gospel when the resurrected Christ meets Peter on the sea shore (Jn. 21). There is an intimacy and poignancy in their conversation. Three times Jesus asks him, "Peter do you love me?" Three times Peter confirms his fundamental commitment, "Yes, Lord, you know I love you." Three times Jesus commissions him to service: "Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep." The text says that Peter felt hurt when Jesus asked him the question for the third time. Maybe it was the memory of his three denials.

But the past is healed for him. He is forgiven; he accepts forgiveness. Peter is empowered for leadership. And there is a hint that he will not fail when the time of trial comes to him again in the future. Jesus tells him, "When you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go." I wonder if this is a allusion to the movement of the Holy Spirit taking a willing Peter into difficult and challenging places. The parenthetical interpretation in the text says that it is a commentary on Peter's martyrdom. "After this, (Jesus) said to (Peter), 'Follow me.'"

The denier is restored. The betrayed forgives. Full reconciliation and empowerment.

The facts of the past do not change. On the night of Jesus' arrest, Peter betrayed him three times. The meaning of the past and its effect on the future can change. Peter becomes the courageous leader of the Church, a paragon and inspiration. The Rock.

Hamlet soliloquizes "Conscience doth make cowards of us all." But repentance, forgiveness and the reclaiming of our virtue makes mountains of us also.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011 -- Week of Proper 8, Year One
Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons, c. 202
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 972)
Psalms [120], 121, 122, 123 (morning) 124, 125, 126, [127] (evening)
1 Samuel 11:1-15
Acts 8:1-13
Luke 22:63-71

We begin today's readings in Psalm 120, with the cry for deliverance "from lying lips and from the deceitful tongue. [From] the sharpened arrows of a warrior, along with hot glowing coals." (One wonders if this last is a reference to a form of torture.) The psalmist feels surrounded by enemies, Meshech (in the north) and Kedar (in the south). "Too long have I had to live among the enemies of peace. I am on the side of peace, but when I speak of it, they are for war."

We've passed the $1 trillion mark in direct financial costs for the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. How can we put a number on the human toll? I've seen it here in our town among veterans returning with deep psychic wounds. Ask anyone who works with the homeless how many combat vets they encounter.

Not one dollar of special revenue has been appropriated for these wars. It's all been put on the federal credit card. Now we live with the strain of deficits, from war and from a financial meltdown.

I remember the 2008 PBS "Frontline" documentary "Bush's War," a factual inquiry into the story of how our nation was led into war against Iraq. Using exaggerated fear as a weapon of persuasion, lying lips and deceitful tongues drowned out every word of peace. Our leaders sharpened their arrows and heated their hot glowing coals, aimed toward a pitiful nation that was thoroughly contained and deterred. Our leaders could speak only of war.

Then we bent so far away from our moral compass that our own White House orchestrated a calculated process to ignore Geneva Conventions as well as the advice of our military in order to attempt legal rationalization for torture. Some are say we perpetrated war crimes.

I recall those crucial early days following the attacks of 9-11. So many voices called for restraint. We could have used the moral credit we had earned and the international outpouring of sympathy to forge a world-wide cooperative response of compassion and healing. We could have called the world together for a global plan to reach out to heal the suffering of the marginalized and poor. We could have given power and voice to the moderate expressions of religions and governments in the wake of the world's horror at the spectacle of what militant extremism can lead to. We might have encouraged an earlier expression of the deep longings that have only now emerged as the "Arab Spring." Instead, we became militant to the extreme.

So when virtually every national and international religious body spoke out in opposition to the Bush plans for war (with the notable exception of the Southern Baptists), when so many prophet-sentinels warned of dire consequences, this proud group ignored all words but their own. And what suffering and catastrophe they have wrought.

Since that time we have suffered another arrogant attack, this one from within our own financial sector. Yesterday I had a conversation with a friend about the 2010 Academy Award winning documentary "Inside Job." The film traces how deregulation of the financial industries removed the boundaries that protected us from certain forms of systemic risk. Deregulation and greed fueled systemic corruption in the financial services industries and provoked the worst economic meltdown since the Great Depression. Although the stock market has rebounded and many companies are now flush with cash, unemployment remains painfully high and there is little economic energy in the middle class. Money and power is concentrated in fewer and fewer hands. We have become a plutocracy. Some say we still have failed to restore regulation that would prevent similar financial abuses in the future.

"I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come? My help comes from God, the maker of heaven and earth." How beautifully Psalm 121 gives hope to the anguish of Psalm 120.

Then we read Psalm 122, and a new vision of harmony comes to us from the center of the conflict. "Jerusalem is built as a city that is at unity with itself." Can we imagine Washington as a city that is at unity with itself? Grounded. Centered. "Peace be within your walls and quietness within your towers."

Psalm 123 completes the hopeful prayer. Again we redirect our gaze: "To you I lift up my eyes... as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their masters, and the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress, So our eyes look to the Holy One our God, until God shows us mercy.

"Have mercy upon us, O God, have mercy, for we have had more than enough of contempt, Too much of the scorn of the indolent rich, and of the derision of the proud."

Amen.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011 -- Week of Proper 8, Year One
Saint Peter and Saint Paul, Apostles
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)
EITHER the readings for Sts. Peter and Paul (p. 998)
Morning Prayer: Psalm 66; Ezekiel 2:1-7; Acts 11:1-18
Evening Prayer: Psalms 97, 138; Isaiah 49:1-6; Galatians 2:1-9

OR the readings for Wednesday of Proper 8, p. 972
Psalms 119:145-176 (morning) 128, 129, 130 (evening)
1 Samuel 12:1-6, 16-25
Acts 8:14-25
Luke 23:1-12

I chose the readings for Saint Peter and Saint Paul

"Come and listen, all you who fear God,
and I will tell you what God has done for me." (Ps. 66:14)

We celebrate two of our great founders today, Peter and Paul. The iconography of their friendship is an image of unity in diversity as well as a picture of reconciliation after conflict and, maybe, competition.

Peter was an uneducated fisherman from Galilee who was a close friend of the earthly Jesus. Paul was a well-educated urbanite who persecuted the church before his encounter with the risen Christ. On occasion, Paul rebuked Peter for his non-inclusive behavior toward the Gentile Christians. It seems they found a way out of some of their conflict by defining separate markets -- Peter becoming the apostle to the Jews; Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles. Yet, when the time for decision came in the meeting of the Apostolic Council, Peter came through for Paul and for the Gentiles. His story of the vision of clean and unclean animals helped turn the tide for Paul, giving "official" authorization for the ministry Paul had already initiated among the Gentiles.

For me, the key to understanding Paul was that Christ gave him freedom from his crippling anxiety about his own performance. He was a scrupulous and observant Jew. He tried to do his best. He tried to be perfect. But he found it only left him anxious and self-absorbed. Am I really right? Am I really righteous? He was left haunted by the push of perfectionism, feeling rebellious toward God whom he regarded as an ever-demanding and unblinking parental judge.

Paul could point to his discipline and accomplishments, but they gave him no satisfaction. He was always just one slip-up from failure. Trying to measure up only left him feeling anxious.

Enlightenment knocked Paul down and left him blinded by a new realization. Justification -- a right relationship with God -- is a gift, a free gift from God. We need do nothing to earn it -- in fact we cannot earn it. It is given to us with no strings attached, except that we accept the gift. Accept the fact that you are accepted. This is the gift that Christ gives to Paul and to all. Relief from anxiety. Peace. Deep appreciation. Through God's prevenient loving acceptance, we are freed -- free to do good and to love because we have been loved first. We can be confident and empowered because we have already been given everything we need as an unearned gift. This is Paul's gospel.

Although he had been an observant Jew, Paul was quick to recognize that this gift of acceptance transcended Judaism. He found a responsive audience among the godfearers attending synagogue -- Gentiles who were attracted to the moral teaching and monotheism of Judaism, but who were unwilling to undergo circumcision or practice kosher laws and some other traditions peculiar to the Jews. Naturally, Paul encountered resistance when he began to steal these Gentiles from the synagogue. Many of these Gentiles were prominent in civic life and generous in support of the Jewish community. These conflicts occasionally became violent.

Paul also had the complication of uniting within the Christian fellowship people who brought with them very different traditions and practices. Many Jewish Christians observed kosher and other dietary laws as well as some Jewish holidays and other practices. Gentile Christians brought different scruples and opinions. Many of Paul's letters deal with the conflicts and complications of melding these two traditions into a coherent community.

Peter's defense of the inclusion of Gentiles was a crucial turning point in the early history of the Christian movement. The vision of clean and unclean animals that God gave Peter changed his inherited paradigm. "What God has made clean, you must not call profane." When Peter recognized the gifts of the Holy Spirit manifested among the Gentiles, he immediately included them into the Christian fellowship through baptism.

That was a profound act. Standing over against Peter's experience was the witness of scripture and centuries of tradition. Yet, the Apostolic Council confirmed Peter and Paul in their testimony on behalf of inclusion of the Gentiles.

In our generation, we've faced similar issues. Are women to be fully included? Are gay and lesbian and transgendered Christians to be fully included? Happily, our apostolic council seems to continue to follow the example of our ancestors. We continue to hear the words, "What God has made clean, you must not call profane." When we have seen the Holy Spirit manifested in these others "just as it had upon us at the beginning." Our church has confirmed those who have testified on behalf of inclusion of these "others."

The gift of acceptance that Paul so profoundly articulated in his Gospel is our message as well. God loves us, frees us from anxiety and self-centeredness, so that we can confidently live generous and loving lives. The icons of Peter and Paul, the embrace of two very different men and the synergy of their passions, is an image of unity, reconciliation, and energy for us today. They show us how to transcend our scruples and differences with the inclusive power of the Holy Spirit.

Happy Saints Peter and Paul day!

Monday, July 22, 2011 -- Week of Proper 10, Year One
Benedict of Nursia, Abbot of Monte Cassino, c. 540
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 974)
Psalms 25, (morning) 9, 15 (evening)
1 Samuel 18:5-16, 27b-30
Acts 11:19-30
Mark 1:29-45

In our Gospel reading today, Mark gives us a peek at a day in the life of Jesus. It starts, in Hebrew tradition, at sundown. (It is the sundown that ends the Sabbath when Jesus has amazed the synagogue in Capernaum.) In the cool of the evening, Jesus does his work as a healer. Presumably, he retires for rest later that night. Before sunrise, he rose for prayer. When his disciples find him, Jesus is renewed and focused by his meditation. He continues his work, traveling to the nearby villages to teach and heal.

Today is the feast of St. Benedict. Benedict's rule of life has brought focus and balance to centuries of Christians wishing to live an authentic and healthy life. Benedict's rule structures each day as being grounded in liturgical prayer and spiritual reading, with plenty of time for rest, for work, for eating, and for building relationship. The three promises of the Benedictine rule are promises of stability, obedience and amendment of life.

In her study of the Rule of Benedict, "Living with Contradiction," Esther de Waal summarizes these three promises this way:

For stability means that I must not run away from where my battles are being fought, that I have to stand still where the real issues have to be faced. Obedience compels me to re-enact in my own life that submission of Christ himself, even though it may lead to suffering and death, and conversatio, openness, means that I must be ready to pick myself up, and start all over again in a pattern of growth which will not end until the day of my final dying. And all the time the journey is based on that Gospel paradox of losing life and finding it. ...My goal is Christ.

Metropolitan Anthony Bloom expands on the notion of Stability: What is it to be stable? It seems to me that it may be described in the following terms: You will find stability at the moment when you discover that God is everywhere, that you do not need to seek Him elsewhere, that He is here, and if you do not find Him here it is useless to go and search for Him elsewhere because it is not Him that is absent from us, it is we who are absent from Him.

Balancing the promise of stability is the promise of Conversion of Life -- a willingness to turn and to change on a moment's notice when God's call opens a new opportunity or a new ascesis. We look for the presence of God in the new place. We live with an openness to change, to the work of the Holy Spirit in ourselves and in the world. We live with commitment to our own maturity. Benedict urges us to "keep your own death before your eyes each day." Conversion of life has something to do with Dorothy Sayers fine observation: God did not abolish the fact of evil. He transformed it. He did not stop the crucifixion. He rose from the dead.

Obedience is the humility and discipline of discernment, to listen to the call of God's presence in the people, things and circumstances of my life. The word "obedience" is related to the Latin word oboedire, meaning "to obey, pay attention to, give ear." Listening deeply we discern the yearning of the Spirit between the tensions of stability and conversion. My seminary professor Alan Jones offered his students this prayer that he used at the beginning of his day -- a prayer of listening obedience to the movement of the Spirit.

In your hands we rest
In the cup of whose hands sailed an ark
Rudderless, without mast.
In your hands we rest
Who was to make of the aimless wandering of the Ark
A new beginning for the world.
In your hands we rest
Ready and content this day.

Stability: It is here and now, in this place with these people, that God will meet me and guide me.
Conversion: I open myself willingly to the new opportunity, ready to repent with humble confidence in God.
Obedience: Listening obediently.

In your hands we rest
Ready and content this day

[all quotes from The Rule of the Order of the Ascension]

Tuesday, July 12, 2011 -- Week of Proper 10, Year One
Nathan Soderblom, Archbishop of Uppsala and Ecumenist, 1931
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 974)
Psalms 26, 28 (morning) 36, 39 (evening)
1 Samuel 19:1-18
Acts 12:1-17
Mark 2:1-12

I don't know who first coined the term "practical atheist." I first heard the term as a description of people who express faith in God but who live as though God were absent, as though everything depended upon their own resources. I find it all too easy to slip into practical atheism.

Last night I woke up in the latter part of the evening, long before the alarm clock's appointment -- my mind filled with things I need to do, those "things left undone which we ought to have done." My mind came awake and wouldn't quiet. I couldn't go back to sleep.

I got up and went to another room with something to read, something to take my mind off my mind. As I read, one of the problems that had contributed to my restless worry was solved. The brief reading that I had picked up, almost at random, gave me an insight that put one trouble to rest. I found I was relaxed again. I went back to sleep until the alarm's call.

I felt a bit like Peter, who in our story in Acts today finds himself bound in chains, guarded in a prison as he sleeps. It felt like a dream to him when there came a tap on the side and a voice saying, "Get up quickly." The chains fell; a door opened. When he "came to himself" he was free. It was God's doing. "Now I am sure that the Lord has sent his angel and rescued me..."

How often it happens, when I feel anxious or overwhelmed, if I will relax and trust a bit, a chain drops, a door opens. Part of what I know and believe is that it is not all up to me. It is all up to God. But I forget. My prison is my forgetfulness, my own form of faithlessness. Practical atheism.

So often the angels come in the form of friends. Because I live in community, it is not all up to me. In today's story from Mark, four friends carry their paralyzed companion to Jesus. Their initial approach is blocked, so they get creative and "raise the roof" to get their friend to Jesus. Our friends can carry us when we get stuck. But you've got to be willing to lie there and let them.

At least part of what paralyzed this man in Mark's story was something in the man's past, something he needed freeing from. Jesus gives him the gift of forgiveness. He is unstuck. He can move; he can walk.

Some of the crowd is stuck theologically. Only God can forgive. Jesus can't say that; Jesus can't do that. Jesus gives them a wonderfully ambiguous response: "'But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins' -- he said to the paralytic -- 'I say to you, stand up, take your mat and go to your home.'" That phrase "Son of Man" is like aces in some card games. It can go high or low. "Son of Man" can be carry superhuman connotations; it can also simply be another name for mortal. Take your choice.

Sometimes the gift of forgiveness is the gift one friend can give to another to overcome our paralysis.

Always we live in community. I am particularly grateful for all of my friends who can get creative and raise the roof for me when I am stuck and paralyzed.

It is never all up to me. God acts, and chains drop, doors open. Friends carry things for us us when we can't move ourselves. Forgiveness happens freely. Gifts all. It's all gift.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011 -- Week of Proper 10, Year One
Conrad Weiser, Witness to Peace and Reconciliation, 1760
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office ( Book of Common Prayer, p. 974)
Psalms 38 (morning) 119:25-48 (evening)
1 Samuel 20:1-23
Acts 12:18-25
Mark 2:13-22

Jesus the stand-up comic. I can imagine the punch-line at the end of this reading from Mark being delivered by Jesus with some of the ironic quality of Jerry Seinfeld -- Jesus, looking at the odd and quirky things of life, and bringing them into fresh view with the kind of gentle humor that creates a touch of insight and entertainment.

How funny it would be for someone to take some unshrunk cotton and carefully to sew it just right on an old cloak. The first time it gets wet and shrinks -- rip.

Or and old, inflexible, leathery wine flask. Put some wine in there that is still alive, still active and fermenting. Eventually... splash. It will burst like slapstick.

The point is a powerful one. It's like Einstein's quote (if I remember correctly) -- you can't solve a problem with the same consciousness that created it.

Mark sets Jesus' teaching-routine within a context that might have been comedic. Jesus has been befriending sinners and tax collectors. These are the people who deliberately choose not to observe the Torah. Jesus eats and drinks with them. They are soaking him in, breathing and expanding like new wine flasks filled with living new wine.

But the old ways are bothered. The Pharisees have been trying to teach the Torah observances to the people, helping them extend their faithfulness to the scripture into every part of their ordinary lives. There is a system. It is clear and written down. There is a process for interpreting difficult decisions. They know what is right and what is required to be righteous.

These sinners and tax collectors don't follow the right way. They should be straightened out, not partied with.

Yet, the old wine didn't work for these sinners and tax-collectors. The well-worn cloth didn't fit. But something about Jesus' new wine sparkled in their mouths. Their hearts opened to what Jesus was saying. They felt joy and newly born hope. God could be with them. They could experience love and acceptance. And from that motivation of love, they could live in a new way.

Where the law had been unsuccessful, love awakened new life.

All would be well if only the Pharisees could have seen the grace in the sinners' response. "It's not our way," they might observe, "but look what good it is doing for them." But their thoughts and hearts were a bit dry and leathery. They were too comfortable in their old clothes. This unshrunk cloth pulled and tore at their fabric. Sometimes that's the way it is.

How many Episcopalians does it take to change a light bulb?

Five. One to change the bulb and four to talk about how good that old bulb was.

CHANGE THAT LIGHT BULB??!! My grandmother gave the church that light bulb!

Friday, July 15, 2011 -- Week of Proper 10, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 974)
Psalms 31 (morning) 35 (evening)
1 Samuel 21:1-15
Acts 13:13-25
Mark 3:7-19a

Bill, my best friend in seminary, enjoyed playing the organ. It was a form of relaxation and refreshment for him, and occasionally he would substitute in our seminary chapel worship when the regular organist was away.

One day while he was practicing he noticed a woman sitting in the chapel with her infant child. That wasn't so unusual since the chapel was a place people would come for prayer or reflection. But she wasn't part of the seminary community, and living in New York City you get used to some degree of vigilance on behalf of your environment.

Bill realized that he had left some music he needed in another place, so he left to get it, casting a discreet look toward the woman. He was gone only a few minutes, but when he returned the woman was standing at the high altar. She had her child lying on the altar in front of her. When Bill looked closer, he realized that she was changing the child's diaper.

After a moment's pause, he went to her, speaking in a gentle way, and said, "You probably don't realize it, but there are some in this community that might be offended at what you are doing, changing your baby there, on the altar. It's a very special place for us."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, looking furtively about. "I didn't know." And she quickly secured her child and left the chapel.

Bill went back to his practice. Then it gradually struck him. Here is a woman, obviously poor, vulnerable, maybe homeless, living in New York City with her infant child, escaping into a sheltered and safe place for just a bit of respite from her hard life. To her the altar was a safe and clean place for attending to the necessities of her child. How much better than many places she probably had to use for that purpose. And he had made her uncomfortable enough that she fled out into that harsh city, leaving a building erected in the name of a child who was born in a stable, a person who had no place to lay his head.

In our story today from 1 Samuel, David is in desperate circumstances. He's trying to survive. He violates religious laws by eating the holy bread that has been placed upon the altar of the temple at Nob. Yesterday we read of Jesus referencing this event when his hungry disciples violated the Sabbath by plucking grain when they were hungry.

People in desperate circumstances sometimes do thing things that trouble our scruples. Between necessity and scruples, Jesus seems to side with necessity.

Monday, July 18, 2011 -- Week of Proper 11, Year One
Bartolome de las Casas, Friar and Missionary to the Indies, 1566
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 976)
Psalms 41, 52 (morning) 44 (evening)
1 Samuel 24:1-22
Acts 13:44-52
Mark 4:1-20

My colleague Chuck Walling recently preached a sermon on the parable of the thorns. He offered some nice metaphors for the allegory.

The hardened path where the seeds fall and cannot grow is our status quo, he said. It is the way of the familiar, our habits that block us from the new possibility that God might throw our way. It is our hardened opinions and certainties -- the way we've thought before. Our interpretive paradigms that channel our perception and understanding so that we only see what we expect to see and we think along comfortable and well-worn paths.

He called the rocks in the landscape, our "never-never" rocks. These are the buried places that we protect from God's prying roots -- never-never will we let God go into that part of our lives. There are some behaviors and thoughts that we shield from God's intrusion. "Never-never will that change. Don't go there."

The thorns he spoke of as the distractions that waste our energy and choke our attention and time so that we attend to lesser things, he said. We fail to learn and grow because we don't give ourselves time to attend to the things that bring growth.

To this last point, I'm reminded of something. Positive Psychology guru Martin Seligman suggests that our well-being can be enhanced by our pursuit of what he calls "the gratifications" as we tone down our pursuit of mere pleasures. Gratification comes when we involve ourselves in challenges that require our best efforts and use our signature strengths.

Seligman references research by Mike Csikszentmihalyi about "flow" -- moments when we get so caught up in something meaningful to us that time seems to stop. Csikszentmihalyi tells of his eighty year old half-brother Marty who has a passion for minerals. One morning after breakfast Marty took up a crystal to study under his powerful microscope. After a while, he noticed that it was harder to see the crystal's internal structure clearly, and Marty thought that a cloud had passed in front of the sun. He looked up, and found that the sun had set. (Seligman, Authentic Happiness; Free Press, 2002, p. 114)

Seligman offers eight psychological components that describe a gratification:
• the task is challenging and requires skill
• we concentrate
• there are clear goals
• we get immediate feedback
• we have a deep, effortless involvement
• there is a sense of control
• our sense of self vanishes
• time stops ( Ibid, p. 116)

It is interesting that there is no experience of positive emotion as a component to this sort of gratification. If feeling is involved, it is usually in retrospect. "A mountain climber may be close to freezing, utterly exhausted, in danger of falling into a bottomless crevasse, yet he wouldn't want to be anywhere else." (Ibid, p. 119)

Seligman is convinced that the good life is related to our use of our signature gifts in challenging and meaningful activities that create more gratification in our lives.

I'm interested in recognizing the ways that I let my life get into a rut, blocking God's creative presence, letting distractions and little pleasures deter me from more meaningful and challenging opportunities. There are so many activities and things that produce gratification rather than mere pleasure. But they take do more effort and a willingness to risk. They are things that I can fail at. Sitting in front of the TV is so easy. Can't fail at watching a TV show. But sometimes, just to do so, is a simple failure itself.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011 -- Week of Proper 11, Year One
Macrina, Monastic and Teacher, 379
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 976)
Psalms 45 (morning) 47, 48 (evening)
1 Samuel 25:1-22
Acts 14:1-18
Mark 4:21-34

"For to those who have, more will be given; and from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away." (Mark 4:25)

I saw two economic charts yesterday. Each of them started in the 1980's during the Reagan era and tracked to the present. One chart measured wealth in dollars. The next chart measured after-tax income. The line-charts tracked first the wealthiest 1%, then the next 10%, then several lower levels of income from the 90% percentile down. (I don't recall the specific percentage breakouts.)

Here's what they showed. Beginning in the '80's there was a very large gap between the top 1% and everyone else. The top 1% have a lot more wealth than everyone else. There was also a significant, but smaller gap between the 90% and everyone else. Below the 90th percentile, the lines were all pretty close together. The amount of wealth was pretty close together for the rest of the percentile categories.

What the first chart showed -- wealth in dollars -- was that wealth has increased dramatically for the top 1% from the 1980's until now, with a few spikes up and down. Wealth for the top 90% has also increased significantly, but not as sharply as for the top 1%. The rest of America's economic world has been flat. The lower 90% haven't progressed.

But the chart on the right showed after tax comparisons. That's where you would imagine the lines getting a little closer. From those who have, more is expected. To those who need, there is some support. But no. The income gap after taxes is even greater. The top two lines tracked a bit more steeply upwards. And all of the other lines went from flat to sliding slightly downward.

The scripture has been fulfilled, it would seem. Since the 1980's at least, to those who have, more has been given; and from those who have less, more has been taken away. That's the way our economic system seems to have been working.

But that's not quiet the context for the observation from Mark's gospel. Jesus first tells his listeners, "Pay attention to what you hear; the measure you give will be the measure you will get, and still more will be given you." Then he says, "For to those who have, more will be given; and from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away."

I've always been perplexed by the passage. But within it's context, Jesus seems to be exhorting his listeners to abundant generosity. Give extravagantly and more will be given you. Your receiving is connected to your giving, he seems to say.

I don't know what to think about the last phrase -- "from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away." Is it a commentary on the injustice of life?

Luke's version of this passage expands on the command "Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back." Luke omits the taking away from those who have nothing. (Lk. 6:37-38)

Mary's song imagines the powerful being brought down from their thrones and the lowly lifted, the hungry filled and the rich sent away empty. (Lk. 1:52-53) Not so for the most recent proposed strategy for lowering the Federal debt -- making most of the burden fall on the poor and vulnerable by cutting programs important to them while protecting the wealthy from any increased taxation. It seems that somebody believes in it is right for those who have to be given more and from those who have nothing, let it be taken away.

I hope God is underneath it all sowing seeds of generosity and justice. I hope somewhere out of the headlines, out of sight, there are mustard seeds, small and invisible, germinating, rooting, growing. Seeds that someday will give shelter for all of the birds of the air.

I worry at the signs, though. Will it be that what little generosity and justice we have as a nation will be taken away?

Wednesday, July 20, 2011 -- Week of Proper 11, Year One
Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Amelia Bloomer, Sojourner Truth, and Harriet Ross Tubman, Liberators and Prophets, 1902, 1894, 1883, 1913
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 976)
Psalms 119:49-72 (morning) 49, [53] (evening)
1 Samuel 25:23-44
Acts 14:19-28
Mark 4:35-41

The story of David's encounter with Nabal and Abigail is as entertaining as an episode of The Sopranos.

David and his armed men had been running a protection racket in southern Judah. As the wealthy herdsman Nabal was shearing his sheep, some of David's men approached him for a payoff. Nabal disrespected them. David swore retaliation -- the death of every male under Nabal.

Nabal's wife Abigail intervened however, meeting David with generous gifts and extravagant expressions of respect. Her intercession stayed David's hand, and impressed the "rest of him" as well. When Nabal realized his close call, he suffered a stroke and died a few days later. David moved in on Abigail, and she was added to his harem. (Elsewhere the Bible names at least eight of David's wives.) The story closes with an ominous note that King Saul had given his daughter, David's wife Michal, to another man as husband.

Abigail is a strong and resourceful woman, yet I am struck by the limits on her options as a woman of her culture. I enjoy her power and decisiveness as she commands Nabal's servants and resources to plan a successful strategy to thwart the manly bloodshed. But from my cultural perspective, I'm troubled that her being added to David's harem is as good as it gets for her.

Today we celebrate the feast of four heroines of our culture's history -- Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Amelia Bloomer, Sojourner Truth, and Harriet Ross Tubman. These four were among the strong and resourceful women who challenged the entrenched sexism and racism of an earlier age. They had to struggle against conventional wisdom, religious authority, and the law.

Although we continue to live with crippling expressions of sexism and racism today, there has been progress -- slavery is illegal and is no longer defended by law or by Christian ministers; women may vote, hold public office, and exercise equal leadership in some, but not all, religious traditions.

We continue to express our racial bigotry in many ways, particularly through unjust laws that leave our immigration system dysfunctional, immoral and incredibly anti-family.

Yet, I am encouraged as our generation participates in yet another movement of liberation and equality, this time on behalf of our GLBT neighbors. We follow the same trajectory as the trail blazed by our ancestors who worked to free slaves and to bring equality for women and for people of color.

Elsewhere, there are new heroes and heroines every day risking their lives on behalf of the "Arab spring," articulating hopes rising deeply from within the human breast.

Likewise, it is encouraging when the perfidy of a corrupt system like the Rupert Murdoch empire is finally exposed and we have a communal opportunity to purge and cleanse.

I do believe that God's Spirit inclines our human evolution ultimately toward fullness and union. As abolitionist Theodore Parker is credited with saying, "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice."

It is messy and conflictive. We shouldn't be surprised. It's always been messy and conflictive, full of abuse of power and and ambiguous sexual energy.

Every generation has the opportunity to expand the arc of justice. But we have to be able to see where conventional wisdom, religious authority and the law are being stretched by the moral universe in our own day.

Fifty years out from the bloody conflicts of the 1960's Civil Rights movement, we see articles and documentaries reminding us of those days. There is much to cringe over with embarrassment. Many of us, and our parents, chose wrongly in that struggle.

But in my lifetime, I have seen so much to be encouraged about. In my youth, people spat upon and physically attacked youngsters who thought it was okay for black and white people to learn together, eat together, be together. The law stood to uphold the attackers. Today we have a black president whose parent's marriage would have been illegal in more than thirty states. Beginning this Sunday, hundreds of gay couples will celebrate their right to marry in the state of New York. And across the Middle East, the breath of freedom and representative democracy inspires hope in the teeth of violence.

Yes, it is a mess. But it is a beautiful and hopeful mess.

Friday, July 22, 2011 -- Week of Proper 11, Year One
St. Mary Magdalene
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)
EITHER the readings for Friday of Proper 11 (p. 976)
Psalms 40, 54 (morning) 51 (evening)
1 Samuel 31:1-13
Acts 15:12-21
Mark 5:21-43

OR the readings for St. Mary Magdalene (p. 998)
Morning Prayer: Psalm 116; Zephaniah 3:14-20; Mark 15:47 - 16:7
Evening Prayer: Psalms 30, 149; Exodus 15:19-21; 2 Corinthians 1:3-7

I chose the readings for St. Mary Magdalene

The women were only doing their duty. It was the humble work of anointing Jesus' body for burial. Earlier there had been no time in the rush before the sabbath. This was unclean work. Religious men would not touch a dead body. It would make them unclean. This was women's work.

There is an interesting detail in Mark's Gospel. "Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where the body was laid." Are they the only ones who risked staying close enough to the burial to know where the council member Joseph of Arimathea had taken the body? The men are notably absent in Mark's account. After Peter's denials, there is no mention of the other apostles or the male disciples. Only women. Watching the suffering. Women's work.

Maybe it was because Mary Magdalene had been through so much suffering already that she could get up early that Sunday to do this duty. Luke's Gospel says that she had been freed from seven demons by Jesus. She's been through so much, and Jesus has freed her. What despair she must feel now. How hard it is to make one step follow another when things are so dark and hopeless. Yet there she is.

The women proceed toward their bitter task. Although they don't know how they will get the stone moved to access the body, they move ahead in trust. "Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?" they wonder. A man might not have gone ahead without figuring out ahead how he would get the stone moved. That's a detail that might have frozen me. I don't ask for directions. I don't expect that someone will be around to help me. I assume it's all up to me. The women don't let such details retard them. They move ahead decisively.

When they arrive, the tomb is open, and a young man gives them the news of resurrection. Mark's account leaves them there, amazed and terrified.

"Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!" speaks the prophet Zephaniah on this feast of St. Mary Magdalene.

"The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies."

The prophet goes on to say that we shall fear no more.

God will "deal with all your oppressors..."

"And I will save the lame and gather the outcast, and I will change their shame into praise..."

"At that time I will bring you home, at that time when I gather you; ...when I restore your fortunes before you eyes, says the Lord."

These are things I want to see. Resurrection. Rejoicing. Enemies turned away and oppressors dealt with. The lame and outcast secure and respected. Homecoming. Fortune restored.

I want to see this for our nation and for our planet. I want to see the lame saved and the outcast gathered. To see the homeless housed and the unemployed's fortunes restored. I'm tired of the oppressors. I'm tired of the wealthy and powerful, the polluters and abusers, making the rules and getting things their way. I don't want angry, greedy people continuing to make more bad decisions. I want hopeful people. People who are willing to do their duty. People who can face the deadliness of reality. Willing to trust. Willing to anoint dead bodies and to keep on going, in charity and in hope. I want hopeful people who can see resurrection. No more fear. No more manipulation by fear. Love and duty. Perfect love casts out fear. Mary Magdalene knows all about that.

Monday, July 25, 2011 -- Week of Proper 12, Year One
Saint James the Apostle
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Friday of Proper 12 (p. 976)
Psalms 56, 57, [58] (morning) 64, 65 (evening)
2 Samuel 2:1-11
Acts 15:36-16:5
Mark 6:14-29

OR the readings for St. James (p. 998)
Morning Prayer: Psalm 34; Jeremiah 16:14-21, Mark 1:14-20
Evening Prayer: Psalms 33; Jeremiah 26:1-15; Matthew 10:16-32

I chose the readings for Friday of Proper 12

Herod Antipas becomes a major character in today's gospel. Antipas was a surviving son of Herod the Great, who was so paranoid and jealous that he had several of his sons executed. Caesar Augustus supposedly quipped that it would be better to be one of Herod the Great's swine than one of his sons, for the swine had a better chance at living. (Herod the Great was said to practice kosher.) In 5 BCE, Herod the Great's oldest son and presumed successor Antipater was brought before Herod on charges of attempted murder. Antipas was named to succeed as king. But the following year, after Herod executed Antipater, the king changed his will to divide the rule among three of his sons. Rome confirmed Herod Antipas as tetrarch ("rule of a quarter") of Galilee and Perea. His two regions were divided by the Jordan River and by the Decapolis.

During a visit to Rome, Antipas fell in love with his half-brother Herod Philip's wife Herodias. (Herodias was herself the granddaughter of Herod the Great.) She apparently returned Antipas' affections and promised to marry him. Antipas divorced his first wife, Phasaelis, the daughter of the powerful King Aretas IV of Nabatea. The resentments provoked hostilities during which Antipas suffered a significant defeat when Philip's forces joined the Nabateans.

We see John the Baptist in prison having publicly accused Herod Antipas on account of marrying his brother's wife. The gospel reading seems rather sympathetic toward Herod, laying the cause of John's execution on Herodias and her daughter, named Salome in Josephus' history. It is a sad and sordid tale, ennobled by the faithfulness of John's disciples, who claim John's body for respectful burial. (Mark's account sharply contrasts John's disciple's courage and loyalty with the fleeing of the twelve at Jesus' execution.)

One of the things that strikes me as I regularly read the Daily Office is how the Biblical narrative is so enmeshed in politics and intrigue. John the Baptist becomes a political martyr for his challenge to the ruler. Jesus is executed as a traitor and enemy to the state. Today's first reading from 2 Samuel speaks of David's anointing at Hebron as king over Judah. One of his first acts is to invite the city of Jabesh-gilead to join his reign, although that city lies in the heart of the territory of Saul's immediate successor Ishbaal.

It takes a strong political stomach to read the Daily Office. The scripture's occupation with such matters implies that we too are to pay attention to the politics and intrigue of our own day.

When I was in the process of formation toward ordination, a sincere and earnest priest gave me some fatherly advice. Be a good pastor, he said. Take care of your people. Teach them the doctrines, worship and prayer of the church, but don't get involved in political controversies. Leave the church out of politics, he advised. That will only cause you problems and division. You'll lose support and parishioners, he said. There's enough to do just being a good pastor.

In giving me that advice, he may have been worried that I had been influenced by example. I had grown up in St. Peter's Church in Oxford, Mississippi. My childhood rector was Duncan M. Gray, Jr., who had acquired some notoriety for his outspoken support of integration when that was the most divisive political issue of our day.

I was influenced by example. Although I haven't lived up to his legacy, my childhood priest became a model of priesthood for me. As a priest, when I met faithful, Christian gay couples whose lives and loves had the same qualities as my own marriage, I recognized the same fears and conflicts over sexuality as I remembered from the racial conflicts of my youth. I began to speak out for what I understood to be a compelling cause for love, justice, and equality. To me, I was following a beloved example, although my mentor, now my bishop, did not agree with me theologically. With his great grace, however, he agreed to disagree, and he gave me his love, respect and support. (I commend to you the recently published biography, And One Was a Priest: The Life and Times of Duncan M. Gray, Jr., by Araminta Stone Johnson.)

There is an attraction about turning one's attention away from the conflicts and ugliness of politics and the daily news to attend only to things spiritual. There is something comforting about keeping one's mind and heart above. It's surely safer for priests to be good pastors and take care of their people.

It is also very easy to become enmeshed in the pride and power and abuse that infects political conflict. We can easily lose our grounding when politics defines our interests. If we think we are following our Baptismal Covenant when we "persevere in resisting evil," we also have to remember that we promise to "seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself." If we "strive for justice and peace among all people," we must do so while we continue to "respect the dignity of every human being." (Book of Common Prayer, p. 304-305)

I like Mark's notice that Herod Antipas knew that John the Baptist was "a righteous and holy man," and that Herod "protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him." John accused Herod, and was enough of a threat that Herod imprisoned him. But John did so, it would seem, in a way that must have nonetheless respected Herod's dignity as a human being.

Sometimes it turns out badly, as it did for John. But he did his prophetic witness with an admirable strength, integrity and grace.

Where are our boundaries and our callings? The example of scripture and history seems to demand our political engagement. But the same example also encourages us to practice that engagement in the spirit of being "in the world but not of the world." I'm thankful for a good mentor. How can we confront the conflict and intrigue of our own day while remaining faithful to the call to compassion? How do we hold the Bible and Prayer Book in one hand, and the daily newspaper in the other?

Tuesday, July 26, 2011 -- Week of Proper 12, Year One
Joachim and Anne, Parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 976)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) 68:1-20(21-23)24-36 (evening)
2 Samuel 3:6-21
Acts 16:6-15
Mark 6:30-46

Two things strike me today as I read the story from Mark's gospel. First, I connect with Jesus' compassion for the disciples (and for himself) as he responds to their weariness, inviting them to "come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." Second, I sense the obligation Jesus places on the disciples when they recognize the hunger and need of the multitude. He tells them, "You give them something to eat."

When I am very tired, as I feel today, it is good to hear the kind voice of Jesus inviting me to withdraw, to rest a while. My tendency toward imbalance is my habit of trying to do too much, more than time allows. I can create stress for myself; I can flirt with exhaustion. It is easy to relate to the circumstances of the disciples -- "For many were coming and going and they had no leisure even to eat." Life can be too full, too busy. "Withdraw and rest a while," is a blessed permission. Even God rested on the seventh day and built sabbath into the very fabric of time.

But sometimes there is no rest for the weary. According to Mark's story, the crowd anticipated the disciples' destination. By the time they reached the deserted place, it was no longer deserted. I would probably be angry if I had been in Jesus' boat. But Jesus "had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd." So Jesus taught them.

When it was late, the disciples sought to shut down the meeting so the people could leave the isolated place in time to get food in the villages. It strikes me that the disciples are alert enough to be aware of their neighbors' need. They show some compassion. So often we aren't aware, we don't recognize the hunger or need of our neighbors. The disciples do well to see the hunger.

But Jesus throws it right back to the disciples. "You give them something to eat." You take responsibility. It is your responsibility. That seems like another way to say, "Love your neighbor as yourself."

The disciples protest. They don't have enough money. (Somehow my mind goes to our Congress' current, and newly discovered, obsession with America's debt.) Jesus tells them to see what resources they have. It still doesn't seem like enough. But when they do a bit of organizing -- "groups of hundreds and of fifties" -- and some prayer, there is enough. There is abundance.

When the story is finished, there is a sense of satisfaction and refreshment. All have been filled. I don't feel so tired anymore.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011 -- Week of Proper 12, Year One
William Reed Huntington, Priest, 1909
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 976)
Psalms 72 (morning) 119:73-96 (evening)
2 Samuel 3:22-39
Acts 16:16-24
Mark 6:47-56

Yesterday's and today's stories from the Acts of the Apostles give us an interesting contrast. They are stories of two women -- Lydia and the unnamed slave-girl.

We are given two piece of information about Lydia. She is "a worshiper of God" who shows up at the place of prayer in Philippi, outside the gate by the river. This is probably the Sabbath gathering place for the Jewish residents of the city. The description of her as "a worshiper of God" could mean that Lydia is Jewish. More likely, she is among the "Godfearers," Gentiles who were attracted to Judaism for its monotheism and high ethic, but who were not Jews themselves. Paul recruited most of his congregation from among the Godfearers.

The other thing we know about Lydia is that she is "from the city of Thyatira and a dealer in purple cloth." Purple cloth is expensive cloth, also called royal purple. Thyatira is a city in the region in Turkey where this exclusive textile was produced. So Lydia is an international businesswoman. She has a home in Philippi, a city in Greece which is on the main Roman highway connecting the east and west empires.

Lydia is a strong, wealthy and independent woman, overseeing her household and her business. She meets Paul and opens her heart and home to his words. She and her household are baptized. She then welcomes Paul and his companions into her home. Her home becomes the first Christian church in Europe. We read about Lydia in yesterday's lections.

Today we meet a slave-girl who also lives in Philippi. She has a spirit of divination. She is probably a priestess or prophetess of the Python spirit, linked to the famous serpent oracle of Delphi. The account says that this slave-priestess "brought her owners a great deal of money by fortune-telling." (Ironically, Lydia's hometown Thyatira was also a center for the Delphic cult of Python.)

Like Lydia, this slave-girl is drawn toward Paul and his companions. "These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation." Annoyed by the oracle's repeated attentions, Paul orders her spirit of divination to come out of her.

"But when her owners saw that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the authorities." Isn't that familiar? It's all about money. It's all about power. The men play on anti-Jewish sentiment to incite a crowd. It turns into a legal lynching. Paul and Silas are severely flogged with rods and imprisoned in jail with their feet in stocks. (Today a prison cell like where they were held is preserved for tourists in the ruins of ancient Philippi.)

Two women. One an independent business woman. The other a slave-girl with a gift of divination. Lydia becomes the host for the new community of Jesus. I wonder what happened to the slave-girl. Her economic value to her owners would have been ruined. Paul had freed her from the spirit of divination that they used for their profit. Maybe she then became more centered and clear-eyed. But, in all likelihood, she was still a slave.

We are left to wonder about her. Was she welcomed into the Philippi church congregation? Although the early Christians did not publicly challenge slavery as an institution, Paul's churches did do something remarkable and counter-cultural. In his congregations, slaves were given equal standing with free persons. They may still be slaves in their homes, but in the Christian congregation they were equal members of the body of Christ. Paul wrote in Galatians, "for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." (3:26f)

It is easy for me to imagine Lydia the wealthy, independent and powerful international business woman and this unnamed slave-girl embracing as equal sisters in the congregation meeting in Lydia's home. It is also possible to imagine this slave-girl ruined, still in bondage, but now of little value to her owners, demoted and relegated to a lower place of servitude. Maybe both scenarios could be true.

My sense of the spirit of Paul's congregations tells me that if this slave-girl became part of the Philippi church in Lydia's home, her fellow Christians would have helped support her in her lesser, non-priestess status. Paul wrote sharply to the Corinthian church when they violated his spirit of egalitarianism. Maybe Lydia's wealth also became a source of help for the slave-girl, not unlike a parish's discretionary fund can be a source of support for people in need.

I like happy endings. I can imagine this tale of two women ending well. I also know, the anonymous slave-girl might be just another of history's discards, unintended collateral damage in the spiritual war between the Church and the Greek Temple. If I feel a yearning for Paul and the Philippi church to reach out to her to help her, I also need to recognize our contemporary responsibility for the collateral damage created in our various wars of church and state. We also have a responsibility to help.

Friday, July 29, 2011 -- -- Week of Proper 12, Year One
Mary, Martha, and Lazarus of Bethany
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 976)
Psalms 69:1-23(24-30)31-38 (morning) 73 (evening)
2 Samuel 5:1-12
Acts 17:1-15
Mark 7:24-37

I've been reading recently about the events of my childhood as we begin to reach the fifty year mark since the days of the civil rights movement. Newspapers and some television stations are doing retrospectives now about the Freedom Riders of 1961. In that year, white and black volunteers rode interstate busses into the South to challenge the Jim Crow segregationist laws. The 1960 Supreme Court ruling in Boynton v. Virginia struck down discriminatory laws in restrooms, waiting rooms and restaurants in bus terminals serving interstate travelers. The court's ruling was ignored in much of the South.

In May, 1961, the Freedom Riders left Washington, D. C. on Greyhound and Trailways busses to challenge the Jim Crow practices. In many places, particularly in Alabama, local law officials allowed mobs to attack and beat the riders. A bus was burned and its riders nearly lynched in Anniston, Alabama. Violence against them in Birmingham was organized by the Ku Klux Klan, with the particular leadership of Police Sergeant Tom Cook, a Klan member, and the infamous police Commissioner Bull Conner. The Riders were terribly beaten in Birmingham, and one with a serious head wound was refused admission to a Methodist hospital.

New Riders replaced those who had been injured. The beatings continued in Montgomery. In Jackson, Mississippi, law officers protected the Riders from mob threats, but arrested them by the bus-full. Some 300 Riders were arrested in Mississippi and then treated with multiple indignities in jail, especially in the state's penitentiary in Parchman. The Freedom Rides continued throughout the South, but especially into Jackson, until the Interstate Commerce Commission finally issued an order that would enforce the court ruling in November, 1961.

People were shocked by the disorder, violence, and racial animosity that was stirred up by the Freedom Riders. Much of the criticism was directed toward the Riders, not only in the South, but also in the North. Popular opinion often supported the local law enforcement's actions to uphold their laws and frowned on outside agitators whose only purpose seemed to be to stir up trouble and to break laws. Even the national press often portrayed the Riders negatively.

Some of these stories came to mind as I read today's New Testament passages. Paul and his companions invoked violent reactions in their own travels across Macedonia. In the port city of Thessalonica a mob attacked the church house of Jason and dragged some of the Christians before the authorities accusing them of treason. In the night, Paul and Silas escaped to the south west to Beroea, where things went well, until some from Thessalonica heard about them, and stirred up threatening crowds there. Paul's "Freedom Riders" provoked violent reactions from the local synagogues, not only because they proclaimed Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, but also because they invited Gentile "godfearers" into their fellowship without the Biblical requirement of circumcision and kosher observation. The Gentiles were often generous contributors to the synagogue, and their loss would be a significant economic threat.

In our reading from Mark, we see Jesus traveling outside his home country, leaving Israel for the region of Tyre. There a Gentile woman -- an unclean woman -- begged Jesus to heal her daughter. Jesus' response seems to be a response of cultural conditioning, Biblical language, if you will. "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." In Jesus' home and village, Gentiles would have been called "dogs." There are many passages in scripture where the word "dog" is used as an epithet to call another unclean or low. (I can remember the "N-word" being used in common conversation, without passion, without express insult.)

But something about the woman's response -- "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs" -- changed everything. Maybe it was her humility, or her cleverness. Whatever it was, Jesus immediately shed any vestige of cultural conditioning and healed her child. From that moment on in Mark's gospel, Jesus gave to Gentiles the same gifts of healing and feeding that he gave to his own people.

Where do we see these things today? Maybe in our cultural attitudes and even our legal discriminations against immigrants. The anti-Muslim fever of some. Discriminatory laws and even violence against gay people and transgendered people. And we still have so far to go to realize the hopes for racial equality that motivated the Freedom Riders. Blacks in America still suffer from so many forms of overt and subtle racism, and carry heavy weight from the effects of past oppression.

We grow up inheriting the values and opinions of our culture. It was a great gift to me to grow up in a culture that was so wrong about something important as the South was wrong about segregation. I think that experience has made me suspicious of other things that look like prejudice and discrimination. I hope so.

In every generation there are those who would incite mobs to violence. They believe they do so in defense of something good that is threatened. Often, they are wrong.

In every generation there are dogs who only get the crumbs falling from the children's tables. Who are they? How can we recognize their full humanity?

In 2061, fifty years, what will we be embarrassed and ashamed about? How can we choose rightly, now?

Monday, August 1, 2011 -- Week of Proper 13, Year One
Joseph of Arimathaea
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 978)
Psalms 80 (morning) 77, [79] (evening)
2 Samuel 7:1-17
Acts 18:1-11
Mark 8:11-21

In the scripture, yeast is usually used as a metaphor for decay or corruption. A little yeast will quietly affect the whole measure of flour, just like a little evil or sin will quietly affect the whole community. Today we read of Jesus warning the disciples about the "yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod." There might be several ways of thinking of these warnings. A couple of yeasty characteristics come to my mind.

The Pharisees sought to promote religious observance. They urged people to be righteous, to follow the law and practice the ritual observances. They called those who would not, or could not follow the observances, sinners. Some Pharisees fell into the habit of judgment and condemnation, seeing only two camps of people -- the righteous and the sinners. Though they believed themselves to be promoting good religious practice, the effect was to create separation and alienation within the community.

The Herodians were all about power. They were given power by the Roman occupiers to keep the peace at whatever cost to the innocent, to control the situation with whatever alliance is necessary. Herod successfully empowered certain Jewish elites to help him consolidate power and he cooperated with Roman occupiers to keep the country secure. Security always trumped justice.

Beware of such yeast, the yeast of power and division. It is always hostile to the kind of unity and compassion that Jesus practiced.

A bit further in this reading, Jesus asks the disciples recall the two great feedings they have witnessed. "'When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you collect?' They said to him, 'Twelve.' 'And the seven for the four thousand, how many baskets full of broken pieces did you collect?' 'Seven.' Then he said to them, 'Do you not yet understand?'"

A possible understanding. The first feeding was done in Israel, and the twelve baskets full represent the twelve tribes of Israel. It is a meaning that any Jew would have perceived. The second feeding was done in the Gentile country of the Decapolis. Jesus is among Gentiles, and he heals and feeds them just has he has among his own people. The feeding story follows follows Jesus' healings of a Syrophonenician woman's child and a deaf man from the region. After this feeding, there are seven baskets left over. The standard Greek meaning of "seven" is "perfection." (3 represents the spiritual order; 4 the created order; 4+3=7 -- completion/perfection) This is a numerical meaning that any Greek would have perceived.

Jesus treats Jew and Greek with equal compassion -- feeding and healing all, and communicating with them through their own symbolic systems. He does not tell the Gentiles that they must join his religion before he feeds, heals, and gives Good News. He doesn't separate, but rather he unifies. He eats with both. He does not play power games. He only loves and serves.

Today is the feast of Joseph of Arimathaea, a patron saint for all of us who are wealthy (and that's most of the people who are reading this, including me). It is Joseph who courageously claimed the body of a convicted capital criminal and provided for a proper burial in his own tomb, despite the possible consequences from the authorities who had executed Jesus. He is one who used his power and wealth with compassion and generosity. He is an example for all of us who are comfortable -- to use our power for care and advocacy on behalf of the poor and oppressed.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011 -- Week of Proper 13, Year One
Samuel Ferguson, Missionary Bishop for West Africa, 1916
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 978)
Psalms 78:1-39 (morning) 78:40-72 (evening)
2 Samuel 7:18-29
Acts 18:12-28
Mark 8:22-33

There is seeing. And there is deeper insight.

Our reading from Mark today begins with the two stage healing of the blind man in Bethsaida. After the first touch, the blind man can see: "I can see people, but they look like trees, walking." Jesus lays hands on him a second time. Now he can see clearly. Many commentators have remarked how this healing seems like a metaphor for the way Mark describes the disciples' gradual illumination. The disciples learn and grow during Jesus' earthly ministry, but so often they fail to understand and seem so bumbling. But after the resurrection, they will see and understand in full.

Following the story of the two-stage healing of blindness, Mark gives us another story of staged enlightenment. Jesus asks the disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" Their answers are profound. The people see Jesus as one of the God-sent prophets. For 500 years there had been no prophet in Israel, not since the end of the exile, since Daniel, Haggai, Zachariah, and Malachi. The people had seen John the Baptist as the revival of the prophets. So the disciples tell Jesus that the people are saying that Jesus is the new prophet, like Elijah or John the Baptist.

Jesus then makes it more personal. "But who do you say that I am?" Peter speaks: "You are the Messiah." "Quiet!" Jesus says. It is a dangerous pronouncement. The authorities were always on the lookout for Messianic movements and their destabilizing, nationalistic tendencies. Rome broached no challengers.

If this passage were a symphony, the music has been building to a great crescendo: "You are the Messiah." Visions of triumph and grandeur fill the air. When Messiah comes, Israel will be restored to greatness. The Messiah will lead the people to throw off the yoke of foreign oppression. Jerusalem will be raised as the greatest of all cities -- the military, economic, and religious center of the world. All nations will see and acknowledge Israel's glory and power.

Jesus bursts their visions with a second insight. The "Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again." It is not what is expected of the Messiah. The other prophets taught us to expect a triumphant Messiah, not one who suffers and fails. Peter takes Jesus aside to try to correct Jesus' vision.

"Get thee behind me Satan!" says Jesus in rebuke. "For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things." The human addiction to power and glory is a terrible one, a devilish threat to Jesus' mission. If Jesus' followers define themselves by human standards of power and glory, they will completely sabotage his mission.

This Messiah will break violence not with violence but with love. He will be the suffering servant. He will be guided by compassion. Only love, compassion and suffering can break the vicious circles of pride, power and glory that inevitably exercise their will through violence and oppression. This is the deeper insight. This is the second vision, the subsequent clarity. As Mark tells the story, the disciples will not perceive it until the resurrection.

What do we see? How much of our focus is on the very human things of power and glory that feed our pride? How can we see the deeper, divine path of love, compassion and suffering that leads to new life? Can we see clearly enough to walk this other road?

Wednesday, August 3, 2011 -- Week of Proper 13, Year One
George Freeman Bragg, Jr., Priest, 1940
William Edward Burghardt DuBois, Sociologist, 1962
To read about our daily commemorations, go to the Holy Women, Holy Men blog

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 978)
Psalms 119:97-120 (morning) 81, 82 (evening)
2 Samuel 9:1-13
Acts 19:1-10
Mark 8:34 - 9:1

I usually read a passage like today's as an invitation to embrace suffering and sacrifice. "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it." I don't want to compromise the traditional understanding of the cross as a call of self-denial and willing suffering service, but it strikes me this morning that there is another experience that has some similar qualities.

When we become deeply engrossed in doing something that grasps our attention and challenges our skill, it is easy sometimes to lose our sense of time and even our sense of self. The social scientist Mike Csikszentmihalyi, who developed the concept of "flow," asks people to recall activities when time stops for us, when we find ourselves doing exactly what we want to be doing, and never want it to end? He tells a story to illustrate.

"I visited my older half-brother in Budapest recently, Marty. He's retired, and his hobby is minerals. He told me that a few days before he had taken a crystal and started studying it under his powerful microscope shortly after breakfast. A while later, he noticed that it was becoming harder to see the internal structure clearly, and he thought that a cloud must have passed in front of the sun. He looked up and saw that the sun had set." (from Martin E. P. Seligman, Authentic Happiness, Free Press, 2002, p. 114)

There are times when we seem to disappear, our lives lost, absorbed in the moment. Sometimes it is with another person, when we are so focused on their story or their being that we give ourselves completely over to their circumstances or need. Sometimes it is when we are working on a task and find ourselves so challenged that the task takes us out of our self awareness. We give ourselves over to the moment and its challenge. Time seems to stand still. Oddly, there is usually no experience of positive emotion when we are so absorbed. When someone is "in the flow," there is no one there to need the experience of pleasure. Maybe afterward, we might reflect on how satisfying or fun, or even ecstatic the activity was.

Seligman calls these moments "gratifications." They are tasks that challenge us and require that we concentrate and use our best skills. We become deeply involved, sometimes almost effortlessly. We have a sense of feedback, that what we are doing is its own goal. We become absorbed, so engaged that our sense of self as separate vanishes. Seligman teaches a version of "The Good Life," that urges us to discover and use our personal strengths every day in the main areas of our life to do meaningful acts that bring abundant "gratifications".

Some of our teens recently returned from the Episcopal Youth Event in Minnesota. They had a lot to tell about. They loved being with a thousand other Episcopalian teens. They made friends. Worship was "awesome." But they spent a lot of time talking about two service projects they engaged in on their return, one a Habitat project Kansas City, the other a fix-up, clean-up day at our campus ministry. In both cases they were doing hard physical labor that demanded considerable skill and concentration. They threw themselves into it. They worked for hours, but only expressed exhilaration. And, at the end, tiredness. It was great. It was fun. When questioned, they said, yes, it was like time stood still. They weren't watching the clock, marking time. They got into the task so much that these usually self-absorbed teens became absorbed. At the end, they felt good because they had done something meaningful that helped others.

Maybe it's not too much of a stretch to include such work as a form of taking up one's cross, losing one's life for Christ's sake and the sake of the gospel.

Friday, August 5, 2011 -- Week of Proper 13, Year One
Albrecht Durer, Matthias Grunewald, and Lucas Cranach the Elder, Artists, 1528, 1529, 1553

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 978)
Psalms 88 (morning) 91, 92 (evening)
2 Samuel 12:1-14
Acts 19:21-41
Mark 9:14-29

Today's story of the prophet Nathan's challenge to the king David is so compelling. The king's power is absolute. Prophets can be jailed or killed. Nathan's story of the poor man and the little ewe lamb engages the monarch's imagination before he realizes that he is the target of the story. "You are the man!" cries Nathan. He speaks truth to power, like Jeremiah and John the Baptist and Jesus and so many others will in the future. How often power refuses to respond to truth.

There is a man who I know, a poor man. He's helped me on a number of occasions. I've known him for more than a year. He seems to me a good man. He doesn't have a car, so he walks, or he is dependent upon the very limited public transportation that we have. Recently he was injured on the job when he stepped into an uncovered drainage ditch in a poultry factory. He will have to have knee surgery. The company told him that he couldn't continue working on his injured knee. Worker's compensation will pay for his surgery, but the company did not authorize him for wage compensation through worker's comp. Without income, it took him only a short while to fall behind in his rent. He was living on a friend's couch, until that friend was evicted for non-payment. Now he's homeless, in a pretty tough place.

It wasn't always this way. He used to have a good job. I just learned "the rest of the story" this week. There was a time when he had a regular, steady job. He had a cosmetology license and made what he called a good living in a salon. But one night he drank too much, got in his car, and was arrested. When people are arrested for DWI, the car is impounded. Around here one of the local towing services gets a call from the police, tows the car, and keeps it until claimed. It took my friend several days to work through the legal process. He pled guilty. (A lawyer friend told me that was a big mistake. With his low alcohol level and a first offense he could have worked out a lighter sentence if he had hired a lawyer.) He paid his fines and other court costs, but that left him broke.

Every day that his car was impounded the towing company added another storage fee. By the time my friend was able to go to the lot to see to his vehicle, the costs to reclaim it were prohibitive. The towing company wouldn't even release some of his property that was in the car. It was a 1985 model, but very dependable. It was his means for traveling to the salon to work. He couldn't get to work. He lost his job. Not long afterward, his $150 cosmetology license renewal came up, and he didn't have the money. His license expired. As the daily storage fees mounted he gave up ever being able to retrieve his car. Life has been extraordinarily hard ever since. No car. No job. No home. He was making his way back with the dirty job in the poultry factory, when he was injured. Now he's in a pretty tough situation.

He made a mistake. A DWI. He regrets it. He admitted his guilt. As far as I know he doesn't drink or do drugs. I can' recall seeing him under any influence. But because he is one of those many people who live from paycheck to paycheck, he was impoverished by the fines, and, in essence, he forfeited his car. A lawyer tells me it happens all the time. That DWI arrest became a slippery slope that has destroyed what was a secure, productive life.

It is the car business that has stuck in my craw. I remember a similar situation a few years ago. A homeless man who lived in his van got permission from one of my friends to park in front of her house. (When people live in their vehicle, one of the biggest challenges is where to park it? Not many private landowners want a homeless person parking on their property, and police will usually have a vehicle moved from public spaces.) There was a neighbor who didn't know that my friend had given the van owner permission. The neighbor called the police. There is a strange van that has been parked in the neighborhood for a couple of days. The van was towed. By the time things got worked out so the owner could reclaim his vehicle, the towing company wanted nearly $500, an impossible amount. I went to the towing company to negotiate on behalf of my friend. He reluctantly dropped the costs 20%, and I paid for the vehicle's release. The woman who originally gave the permission to park in front of her house helped bail out the vehicle. The van owner could never have afforded it. Yet, in that vehicle was everything he owned. It was his home, his shelter.

So, I've got a Nathan project. It is not right that people who are on the edge can lose their most valuable resource -- their vehicle -- because of towing and storage costs that escalate so rapidly that they can never pay to reclaim their property. It seems like a form of legal theft to me.

I know plenty of people in my circle (and their children) who have been picked up for DWI. They pay their bail quickly, reclaim their vehicle, hire a lawyer and work the system. So many poor people cannot work the system. The fines and car charges accumulate. They forfeit their vehicle for a minor offense, or sometimes even, a mistake.

I talked to a probation officer and judge the other day who bemoaned how much of their time is spent trying to process people who can't afford fines, sometimes small fines, then fail to appear, then get into big legal and financial trouble.

"You are the man!" It's a terrible system that is grinding up some of the most vulnerable of our neighbors. When you are poor, a small mistake can be catastrophic. I'm going to look into this car towing-storage business. It doesn't seem right to me. But I'm not too confident that our local system will be as repentant as David.

Monday, August 8, 2011 -- Week of Proper 14, Year One
Dominic, Priest and Friar, 1221

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 978)
Psalms 89:1-18 (morning) 89:19-52 (evening)
2 Samuel 13:23-39
Acts 20:17-38
Mark 9:42-50

When I was a child, I was haunted by today's gospel. Childhood is so brutal, competitive and violent. Passions are untamed. Kids do mean things to one another. Life seems so much more absolute during childhood -- things are either right or wrong, good or bad; people are either friends or enemies. Our adults sought to civilize us with rules and punishments. They made it seem that it is a law of the universe that if you do certain things, particular punishments will result. Thus saith the Lord.

Later in life I heard a child psychologist say, "Children are wonderful observers and terrible interpreters." Children think so literally.

So I heard in the gospel: "If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell..." The warnings go on to include feet and eyes, and by extension, it doesn't take much creativity to think of other body parts as well. It was a frightening scenario for a literal-minded reader, living as I did, in the naughtiness of childhood.

The sheer bloodiness of the whole thing was its undoing for me. It didn't take long to think of my own offenses that might justify my full dismemberment. Yet self-preservation kicked in. It didn't seem just. ("Fair" was a big word then.) And I looked around and saw a town full of adults who went to church and read their Bibles. They must have known this passage, but I saw no evidence of this particular penitence.

Living in the Bible Belt, this scripture was something that challenged our Baptist friends' claim to a higher respect for the Bible. There weren't any more amputations across the street at First Baptist than there were at my Episcopal church. They must not believe much more than we did.

So I adapted toward a more moderate view of punishment for sin. Actually, that's what seemed to work better for me. A bit less guilt; a little less punishment; a lot more grace. In my case, honey attracted more flies than a swatter could ever kill. I was more responsive to encouragement and rewards, inspiration and goals than I ever was to punishment. Punishment simply made me mad. It planted seeds of anger and rebellion that occasionally bore the later fruit of more extreme behavior.

But there are behaviors that seem to resist the power of positive thinking. Some things have to be handled with a sharp-edged cutting off.

People in 12-step recovery programs will testify to the necessity of amputating some behaviors at the risk of one's life. It is better to enter life maimed than with two-fisted drinking to go to hell.

There are certain patterns of thought and particular activities that bode ill for us and need to be dealt with forcefully. "Get thee behind me, Satan." Don't go there; don't even think about it. Quit. Right now. Never again. One day at a time.

Most of the time, a bit of positive, rational reinforcement is enough to turn me from less wholesome to more wholesome behaviors. But there are those things that need to be dealt with more severely. Some things simply need to be cut out, chopped off, and stopped.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011 -- Week of Proper 14, Year One
Herman of Alaska, Missionary to the Aleut, 1837

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 978)
Psalms 97, 99, [100] (morning) 94, [95] (evening)
2 Samuel 14:1-20
Acts 21:1-14
Mark 10:1-16

Life is difficult. Life is complicated. I remember a conversation I had with a good friend the summer before we were heading away to seminary. Our anxiety was showing. We both wanted "the answer book." Is there ONE BOOK that we could take to seminary, and it would give us the answers we would need for all of the questions we knew we would face? So we contacted some priests we respected, asking for a ONE BOOK recommendation. Only one priest took our bait. He recommended a systematic theology book -- if you start here, you can't go wrong, he said. A few weeks into seminary, I got a note from my friend. "Don't quote that book!" he exclaimed. He had done so and harvested a crop of red marks.

How many centuries have we tried to set up a consistent, simple set of rules? Follow these and you will be okay.

Every system always seems to break down when it tries to define the mystery of love. It appears that love insists on transcending definition. It is hard to draw a box around love.

Today we've got some difficult and complicated conversations about love answers. The Pharisees ask Jesus, "Is it lawful for a man to divorce a wife?" They site the permissive tradition from the Torah. A man may write a certificate of dismissal and be divorced. (They site no such power for the woman, though there is evidence outside of Israel that some women could sue for divorce.)

Jesus moves to the heart. "Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment." Remarkable. Jesus' words challenge the authority of the scriptural tradition, claiming that Moses got it wrong. God's will was more gracious than reflected in the command of Torah, he claims.

To support his challenge to Torah, Jesus goes to another place in scripture. "The two shall become one flesh ...Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate." Jesus raises up God's intention that married people be faithful to their covenant and to each other in a lifelong divine union. (Hasn't every person spoken their marriage vows with a sincere, lifelong intention of faithfulness?)

Then we shift scenes. Jesus is in private with his disciples. His answer wasn't enough for them. They want more. So they get some more. "Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery." Pretty clear, isn't it? Bam. That's it. Rule. Law. From Jesus' mouth. That ought to end it right there. We've got the ONE BOOK answer.

That's the way it was for Episcopalians, until recently. We did not allow remarriage of a divorced person in the church.

Then we witnessed something complicated. There were people, good people, whose marriages died. It was tragic. Sometimes they continued to live together in obedience to their vows. Occasionally their relationships found resurrection. Thanks be to God. But others just seemed to continue to coexist in a living death. Married to outward eye; alone and alienated within. They obeyed the commandment, but it was not the abundant life that they read Jesus promised.

Some other people, good people, got divorces. Some divorces were contentious. Others were very civil -- each partner releasing the other from their vow in order that they both might get on with their lives more fruitfully.

Occasionally one of those, now single again, would meet someone, and the possibility of love might bloom anew. If that couple wanted to make a lifelong commitment to one another through marriage, we couldn't marry them. The rules, you know. We sent them somewhere else, say to the Methodists. Then some of them returned to church and lived happy lives together. They lived as "one flesh." But how can that be? It's against the rules. It's adultery pure and simple. Right?

So we went to other places in the scripture. We looked at the story of resurrection -- life out of death. We listened to Jesus' words about forgiveness, hope, and the recreative power of love. We saw the gifts of the Holy Spirit in the lives of these divorced and remarried Christians. We remembered Paul's words: "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and temperance. There is no law against such things." (Gal. 5:22f) We sought the heart of the matter. Eventually, we changed our rule. Within a raised set of expectations, some divorced Episcopalians now may be remarried in the church.

Some people think maybe we shouldn't have done that. It just opens the gates to other things. If we would only stick to the strict interpretation, we wouldn't have so many divorces and family breakups. Or would we?

The rules are always there to protect love. The intention is to provide love a nurturing container. But sometimes the rules seem to block love, don't they? What do we do?

It's hard. It's complicated. Maybe someone reading this is living in a fulfilling and abundant relationship that is not your first marriage. You are probably very thankful to have another chance at love. And we always are left in that difficult, complicated place of trying to do the best we can in a world that resists being neatly defined.

Takes some faith. And a lot of heart.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011 -- Week of Proper 14, Year One
Laurence, Deacon, and Martyr at Rome, 258

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 978)
Psalms 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30 (morning) 119:121-144 (evening)
2 Samuel 14:21-33
Acts 21:15-26
Mark 10:17-31

The annotated Bible that I use is called The Access Bible. It is published by Oxford Press and is intended to be a study Bible for individuals and groups. It uses the New Revised Standard translation. I like this Bible because of the footnotes, the introductions to the various books of the Bible, and the occasional block of background explanation. I mention all of this because a footnote in today's reading offered me a couple of insights I've never thought about.

Today's gospel passage features Jesus' dialogue with the wealthy man who has diligently kept the commandments. "You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." Not only is the wealthy man shocked and repelled, but the disciples are perplexed as well. Jesus amplifies their perplexity, telling them, "Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God."

In his lovable way, Peter makes one of his "Everyman" declarations. Seeking some credit, Peter says, "Look, we have left everything and followed you." He receives some reassurance from Jesus -- anyone who leaves such things for his sake and the sake of the good news will receive a hundredfold now, and in the age to come.

But The Access Bible footnote adds, "Peter exaggerates: He retains his home in Capernaum." So he does. I've visited that home, or at least what the Church has traditionally identified as Peter's home. According to the archeologist who led our tour, the foundations of this small building in Capernaum show that it was a home that dates to the first century, and that it was converted into a public assembly space in the late first century. The walls were covered with writing and the floor plastered. Many lamps were found there, but none of the typical household items. Many believe that it became a house church for the Christian community. There is a small room within the structure that remained its original size. It is called "Jesus' room" -- a speculation that it may have been preserved because it was where Jesus may have stayed while he lived in Capernaum.

The footnote brought back my memory of visiting the site that is traditionally called Peter's home. But it also leaves me thinking about Peter's exaggeration. I'm good at that too. I exaggerate my sacrifices.

There is something generous about the gospel account. There is no record of Jesus correcting Peter's claim of having left everything. Only an expression of Jesus' appreciation and his promise of a greater new communityto replace whatever was lost.

There is another footnote that caught my attention. When Jesus lists what his followers will receive in compensation for all that they have left or sacrificed for the kingdom, the list does not include "fathers." Here's the whole text: "Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters, or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age -- houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions -- and in the age to come eternal life." No fathers included. The Access Bible footnote remarks, "the new family does not place anyone as head of the household or patriarch." Fascinating.

How different might our church history have been had the church focused on this non-patriarchal, egalitarian model for the church. What if this verse had been central to our self-definition, rather than Matthew 16:18 -- "I tell you, you are Peter, on on this rock I will build my church"? It seems like we might have perpetuated another exaggeration of Peter's.

Friday, August 12, 2011 -- Week of Proper 14, Year One
Florence Nightingale, Nurse, Social Reformer, 1910

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 978)
Psalms 102 (morning) 107:1-32 (evening)
2 Samuel 15:19-37
Acts 21:37 - 22:16
Mark 10:46-52

Whenever I read the story of Bartimaeus, something settles deep inside of me. This was the story that I first used when I was taught how to pray the scriptures using the ancient Benedictine method of Lectio Divina. The story has never been the same. From that brief time of prayer has come a rich, luminous connection with the sacred text.

With time and practice, more and more texts have become deeply alive through the practice of Lectio Divina. I am convinced that it is an exquisite way to let the scriptures speak and come alive to us.

There are various ways to describe and teach Lectio. Here's the method I use. I'm taking this from our St. Paul's Church web site at this address: http://www.stpaulsfay.org/id272.html

This is not intended as a four-step linear process, but rather as a movement between states of consciousness. Let your practice move naturally back and forth through these moments.

I. Lectio -- Reading Deeply
Expand your sense of consciousness and focus your attention. Read one of the scripture passages in such a way to you can hear the words deeply. Let God's speaking to you through these words. Slowly read, listening deeply. If you get distracted, go back to where you were. Hear what the scripture is saying. As you are reading, listen with your "third ear" and see with your "third eye." What catches your attention? What causes you to think or to wonder?

II. Meditatio -- Thinking Deeply
Take whatever caught your attention from your reading and think deeply and actively about it. Why did this catch my attention? What does it mean? How does it connect to the rest of the scripture and tradition? What did it mean to the first readers/listeners? Why is this important? What is it saying? Think actively and energetically. As you are thinking, listen with your "third ear" and see with your "third eye." Notice if something moves you. Be aware if you have feelings or emotional content around something.

III. Oratio -- The Prayer of the Heart
If you heart is moved or your emotions touched, go with the feelings. Let the emotional content of your thought explode into prayer. Speak to God with your heart. Let your deepest center be drawn into prayer. Offer whatever comes to Christ. Let your love speak. While you are praying, listen with your "third ear" and see with your "third eye." If your words of love begin to descend into love, let go of words, let go of thoughts, let go of emotions.

IV. Contemplatio -- Rest
Fall into love, into the silence, into the dazzling darkness that is beyond thought and feeling. Just be. And even let go of being, into the all. Let God be all. All is God and God is all. Rest.

+ + +

As you find your consciousness moving in and out of each of these moments, return to reading or thinking or feeling as seems best to you.

When your time is over, pick a brief passage or thought that may focus the content of your prayer time. Memorize or copy that thought; carry it with you during the day, and recall it from time to time. See how your prayer reveals something about what happens during you day.

If you have time, you might journal a bit about what happened during your prayer.

Try this method of prayer with today's story of Bartimaeus. See if it doesn't make the scripture come alive for you.

Monday, August 15, 2011 -- Week of Proper 15, Year One
Saint Mary the Virgin, Mother of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)
EITHER the readings for Monday of Proper 15, p. 980
Psalms 106:1-18 (morning) 106:19-48 (evening)
2 Samuel 17:24 - 18:8
Acts 23:12-24
Mark 11:12-26

OR the readings for St. Mary, p. 999
Morning Prayer: Psalms 113, 115 / 1 Samuel 2:1-10 / John 2:1-12
Evening Prayer: Psalms 45, or 138, 139 / Jeremiah 31:1-14 or Zechariah 2:10-13 / John 19:23-27 or Acts 1:6-14

I chose the readings for St. Mary

From the late J. Neville Ward:

The poet W. B. Yeats said once that he believed in what he called 'unity of being'. His father had taught him the term, arguing that beauty, when truly apprehended, does engage the whole of us. If a musical instrument is properly strung, when one string is touched all the others murmur faintly. Similarly, there is not more (or less) desire in lust than in true love, but in true love there are other effects as well; for in true love desire awakens pity, hope, affection, admiration, and, given the right circumstances, every emotion possible. And when that total excitation happens it becomes clear that something more than this one person is being loved; life is being loved, and God himself.

...This is why there are some features of the meaning of Jesus that make their impact only through devotion to his mother and the thoughts and feelings associated with her in the Christian imagination.

One of these thoughts that are given summary form in her is the idea of the oneness of love. The mother of Jesus is often called (to the embarrassment of the unimaginative) the Mother of God. Her love for her son is one and the same as her love for her God. She becomes in prayer the place where it is said that all human loving reaches its fulfillment as it becomes the love of God, as it becomes loving God.

That does not mean that by some pious mental gymnastics we have always to see only the Creator in the creature. A mother, in one of loves primordial contentments, gazing at her two-month-old baby after he has been fed, is not supposed to pull herself together and think of God, as though she has nearly fallen into idolatry. God does not wish to be substituted for her son, to take the place of her son in her affection. God's will at that moment is that she love her little human son. God has placed himself, as the object of her love, in the form of her child. It is a kind of incarnation. It would be idolatry only if her loving stopped there, at her child, if her child was all she really loved.

All human loving reaches its fulfillment as it becomes loving God. Our loving others will be more truly loving them, instead of using, possessing, dominating them, as it is ordered by our love of God. The Christian faith is that, as we grow in our loving, our love of the world and our love of God will blend. In heaven we shall love things and people and God in one single love, as the Blessed Virgin Mary loved God and her son in one love.

...Loving is primarily not a relationship to certain people and things considered lovable, but a disposition of the whole self to life. The more widely we love, the more deeply we love; this is because we are in fact becoming more loving, we are able to put more love into each loving relationship. Our loving becomes more a function of the whole self, not of simply a bit of it. Christian faith proposes an ideal of always loving, at all times and all places, so that our love of our children, our desire to have some beauty in our life, our concern about life's wrongness and what we can do, are all one and the same love of the incarnate Lord. (The Following Plough, Cowley, 1978, p. 112f)

Tuesday, August 16, 2011 -- Week of Proper 15, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 980)
Psalms [120], 121, 122, 123 (morning) 124, 125, 126, [127] (evening)
2 Samuel 18:9-18
Acts 23:12-24
Mark 11:27 - 12:12

It is easy to get completely sick of politics. Sometimes you just want to wash your hands of it. It's all so corrupt and disappointing. What can a good person do? The odds are stacked against you. It's tempting to withdraw into our own little circles, reinforced by comfortable pieties. It is also easy to slide into cynicism. Cynicism is fun and tempting. You can stand back in smug self-righteousness and hurl snide insults at a system that is really easy to insult. You can say that the whole thing is corrupt. People are stupid and self-serving. Why spend the energy to try to fix or help, when it proves so fruitless, over and over? You can wash your hands of the muck of it all.

All three of today's readings are stories of the dirty muck of power and politics. If you thought you'd mind your own business today, retreat into the private purity of your sanctuary, turn off the TV, ignore the newspaper, read the scriptures, and simply pray the Daily Office... Gotcha.

Vast swaths of scripture are enmeshed in the mess -- telling stories of God's people struggling and fighting in the ugly ambiguity and violence of power. You can't escape the muck, at least not if you want to carry your Bible with you.

Today the sordid tale of Absalom's rebellion and coup against his father David comes to a bloody end. Or does it? So much of it started with the dysfunctional parenting of David. He allowed his son Absalom to grow up without healthy boundaries. He did not pass along his own spirit of servanthood. The king only bequeathed David's own Machiavellian temperament to his son. Even as David sends his loyal troops to fight their own brothers in a deadly war, David tells them to deal gently with the instigator of the rebellion. David will receive his soldiers' sacrifice and triumph with a grief that will dishearten the very people who risked their lives for him. It's an ugly tale.

Paul is under a gentle form of arrest as the Romans try to investigate what happened to cause a near riot. Some of Paul's enemies, religious people acting out of loyalty to their beliefs, conspire to assassinate Paul. Paul's nephew hears of the plot. Paul gets the intelligence to the authorities, and they take him under a considerable guard to the capitol to meet the governor. Politics, conspiracy and threats. More ugly stuff.

In the gospel we see Jesus fending off questions from those who aren't really asking questions. They only want to trap Jesus. So he turns the tables and traps them with his own lose-lose question. "I'll answer your question if you'll first answer mine. Was John's baptism from heaven or of human origin?" If they say "heaven," Jesus has them, for they opposed John. If they say "human," he has them, for the people loved John. Jesus plays the political brinkmanship game well.

Then Jesus tells a political parable. It is a metaphor about Israel. It is a story about corrupt leadership. The tenants will not give the landowner his due. It is also a story about the futility of violent rebellion. If some other tenants think they can succeed with violent rebellion, they risk utter catastrophe. Underneath the story is a metaphor about non-violent resistance. It is the rejected stone which actually becomes the cornerstone.

Those of us who are Biblical Christians do not embrace our traditional values when we withdraw from the dirty fray of politics. We are called to bring our values into our public struggles. If we don't, the politics of power and money and fear will trump the politics of Jesus.

Recently the politics of power, money and fear has dominated our political debate. Some politicians are willing to bankrupt the government to protect historic low taxes for the wealthy or to make partisan political points for their party. Welcome to the Biblical world. Threat and violence and conspiracy; corrupt leadership and a lack of imagination that can think only in terms of power. This is the stuff of David and Jesus and Paul. The Scriptures invite us to bring our values into the struggle, and work the system to help it do the best it can.

We can ask the tough questions and play the political brinkmanship game well, like Jesus did. We can bring the dangerous conspiracies to light, like Paul did. We can recognize when those we love are tearing the fabric of society apart, and deal with them with healthy self-definition, rather than David's dysfunction. Getting disgusted and withdrawing is an unacceptable option. After all, washing your hands of the whole matter was Pontius Pilate's solution.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011 -- Week of Proper 15, Year One
Samuel Johnson, Timothy Cutler, and Thomas Bradbury Chandler, Priests, 1772, 1765, 1790

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 980)
Psalms 119:145-176 (morning) 128, 129, 130 (evening)
2 Samuel 18:19-33
Acts 23:23-35
Mark 12:13-27

"Is it right to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?"

I have a confession to make. I like taxes. (As I type this, I note a slight rush -- a slightly quickened heartbeat; a rise in blood pressure. I wonder... Who reads these things? Is is dangerous thing to say "I like taxes"? Liking taxes not as bad as being a Communist sympathizer in the 1950's is it? Is there a black-list for people who like taxes?)

For years my wife and I have been in a pretty high tax bracket. We both work. We have good jobs. Our children are grown and no longer deductible. Paying high taxes has seemed like a privilege -- a mark of financial success.

I like so much of what we do with our taxes. Our taxes unerwrite and improve our corporate life. Basic infrastructure. Education. Help to the vulnerable. I want us to have resources to solve problems that can only be solved at a corporate level. Solutions I can't contribute to any other way.

Oh, I don't always agree with the way my taxes are spent. I thought invading Iraq as a response to a terrorist act by a clandestine group of Saudi dissidents was the stupidest thing imaginable. Didn't want to spend a dime to do that. But it's part of being part of the whole. My dollars contributed to the death of more than 100,000 civilians in that country -- collateral damage they are called. My tax dollars financed that bad decision. I don't like that. But I like being in the whole system.

I like having water I can drink from the tap without any qualms. (When I'm traveling in places where you can't do that, it's so hard to remember to rinse my toothbrush with bottled water.) I like food that is inspected and safe to eat. Roads and sewers. Air traffic controllers. I could go on, but you get the idea.

I get a kick out of the things that government does so much better than the private sector. Like health insurance. Medicaid and Medicare as so much more efficient than for-profit health insurance.

Philosophically, I agree with the notion that "to those to whom much is given, much is expected." (John F. Kennedy and Luke 12:48) I like a progressive tax policy that requires those of us who are most able to bear a proportionately greater tax obligation to do so.

I also believe we have a responsibility to our neighbors. I like what the Epistle of James says: "If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,' and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?" Taxes underwrite our corporate responsibility to care for the needy.

Someone argued with me that the Bible tells the church to take care of the poor, voluntarily through the church's charity. It's the church's job, not the government's, they told me. I once compared the value of a single major welfare program (Food Stamps) to the entire income of the Christian church in the U. S. They were comparable numbers. If the church gave every penny it receives to the poor, it might cover Food Stamps. (Then I wouldn't have a salary, and might need Food Stamps.) The point: Only taxes are a great enough resource to address some problems that are bigger than charity.

I'm no economist, but it seems to me that Nobel Prize winning economist Paul Krugman is right. We should be investing to put unemployed people back to work to stimulate our current economy. Rebuild our infrastructure and build the job base. We need more resources to invest in the things that make for a healthier country. I want to see some tax increases. (The heart rate perked up again.)

Taxes are at historic lows. We've spent nearly 40 years tilting the tax code to benefit the wealthy. Why does our tax code favor income from wealth (capital gains) over earned income? Financial speculators threw our economy into the tank. Speculative trading accounts for up to 70% of the trades in some financial markets. How about a modest tax on every transaction? Exempt small investors. Might dampen speculation and raise our common revenues.

People like me can contribute more in hard times like this. I've got a lot more than I need to live on. And it seems silly that I'm in the same tax bracket as a billionaire.

Okay, that's enough of a tax rant to tick off nearly everyone. But I can tell you my answer to the question, "Is it right to pay taxes to the emperor or not?" In our system, it is the government that is charged by the Constitution to "form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty." That is a worthy cause. But we haven't been paying the bill for that work for quite a long time. It's time we acted like responsible adults and raised taxes to do the work we are charged to do. Those of us who are most able to pay for that good work should do so. Happily.

Friday, August 19, 2011 -- Week of Proper 15, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 980)
Psalms 140, 142 (morning) 141, 143:1-11(12) (evening)
2 Samuel 19:24-43
Acts 24:24 - 25:12
Mark 12:35-44

When I read the story of the generous widow, I always think of Margaret. She was an elderly woman who had lived alone for many years. Her husband had died at a relatively young age. He was a butcher at the neighborhood supermarket. Margaret had been a homemaker all of her life, like so many from her generation. She raised their children, and every day she prepared their meals. Her husband came home each day for a sit-down lunch with her. The family ate dinner together every night.

Now her children were far away and mostly out of touch. She had lived alone on a fixed income for more than twenty years. Her income was the survivor's share of her husband's Social Security. He had been a life-long employee of a non-unionized supermarket with no pension plan. To say she lived modestly would be an understatement.

The first check she made each month was her tithe to the church. She faithfully contributed ten percent of her total gross income. In our church, she was above the mid-range of pledgers. She gave more than most, even though she had less than nearly anyone. No one would have known though. She was quiet. Present. Faithful.

She said she took the prayer list with her each Sunday and prayed every day for those who were listed. She read the Daily Office. She always brought a potato dish to our pot lucks.

If you watched her carefully, you would see a person at peace. She had an intimate, intuitive relationship with God, expressed so humbly that she rarely hit the radar screen.

There was a coherence around her. She didn't make or create waves. She simply walked with God and served quietly and modestly. She lived with a deep and abiding acceptance of things -- her state in life, her neighbors and friends, herself. The word "abide" comes to mind. She was a person who could "abide." She never seemed hurried, stressed or anxious. She was pleasant, respectful, and quietly happy. She is an saintly example for me.

I think of Margaret from time to time when I get too stressed or complicated or self-absorbed. When I feel anxious or worried. Though she had very little, she had everything. She knew and trusted God, and she accepted and loved life as it is.

I moved away from that community many years ago, but everywhere I go I keep my eyes open for other Margarets. They are out there. They are everywhere, in every congregation and community. They help ground us all. They spread peace and coherence. They know who and whose they are. Blessed are the meek.

Monday, August 22, 2011 -- Week of Proper 16, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 980)
Psalms 1, 2, 3 (morning) 4, 7 (evening)
1 Kings 1:5-31
Acts 26:1-23
Mark 13:14-27

As I read the horrifying descriptions of the time of trial in today's passage from Mark, my mind turned to recent accounts I've heard from survivors of the Tsunami in Japan and of the attack upon the World Trade Center. From the gospel: "flee... the one on the housetop must not go down or enter the house to take anything away; the one in the field must not turn back to get a coat... Woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing infants in those days!"

Last week I heard some interviews with Japanese survivors. They were looking at damaged photographs that have been retouched and restored by volunteers from around the world -- generous photo restorers, giving their time to reclaim images of loved people and places. The survivors were remembering those who were lost, whose images now remain on the photos. One in the photo went back to get something precious from her home, and was swept out to sea. Another was pushing a relative who was wheelchair bound, and they were both too slow. Now their faces look back from the past. The memories were poignant; the suffering palpable.

This weekend my friend Fred Burnham visited our parish. He was just a few feet away from the World Trade Center on September 11. His visit brought back images and memories from that day. In the darkness and smoke, surrounded by percussive sounds, Fred and the group with him in a nearby building were certain that they would die that morning.

At one point, huddled in a dark, smoky stairwell, Fred had an experience of bonding love with a circle of friends who believed that they were all about to die together. He said that moment expanded into a transforming experience of the presence of God, the Source of love. He had no fear of death. Instead he was overwhelmed by the interrelatedness of Being, transforming this experience of terror into an experience of infinite love.

We asked Fred to reflect on what he has learned in the ten years since that experience. He talked about his twin passions for science and theology. He spoke about how interrelated all things are. He raised up two particular realities as key insights -- relationship and empathy.

Relationship is at the core of being. Relationship is as fundamental to existence as the individual properties of the things (or beings) in relationship. Fred offered a reinterpretation of the Great Commandment -- "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength; this is the first and great relationship; and you shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two relationships hang all the structure and the order of creation."

At the heart of our capacity for relationship is our capacity for empathy. Fred said, within our neurological structure are mirror neurons that allow us to look at another face and to interpret what they other is experiencing. We can feel what another feels. From this comes our ability to live with compassion, to be in empathetic relationship with another. Out of that relationship comes the call to love and to serve the other, because we can identify with them, we are in relationship.

Out of the ashes of 9-11, Fred has experienced an expansive sense of relationship and empathy for all humanity. It is on this foundation, he says, that Jesus invites us to live in the Kingdom of God, participating in what God is doing in the world. The whole story of the Bible, culminating in the Incarnation, is the story of God's empathic relationship with humanity. Insofar as we live, we live in relationship to this fundamental reality -- loving God, loving neighbor and loving self.

From the ruins of all our disasters rises the spirit of empathetic compassion in relationship -- resurrection in action. If we as individuals, and as a nation, are to share in the divine work of reconciliation and resurrection, we will have do embrace our fundamental calling to be in empathetic relationship with all humanity. How can we bring that vision to the next crisis? How can we bring that vision to our own time of trial?

Tuesday, August 23, 2011 -- Week of Proper 16, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 980)
Psalms 5, 6 (morning) 10, 11 (evening)
1 Kings 1:38 - 2:4
Acts 26:24 - 27:8
Mark 13:28-37

"From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near... And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake." (Mark 13:28, 37)

My dear friend and former spiritual director Macrina Wiederkehr sent one of her "Occasional Blessings" emails yesterday. Macrina is a Benedictine nun who lives nearby. Despite being hyperactive, full of energy and projects, she has a gift for pausing, and for calling others like me -- hyperactive and too full of energy and projects -- to pause. She likes to offer small prescriptions of awareness and abiding that can be like medicine for the prevalent disease of "hurry sickness."

In her note yesterday, she urged her friends to give ourselves "the blessing of one evening lived with exceptional awareness." She said to pick a night when you don't have other obligations, and give yourself time to see what blessing is waiting on you to have time.

Here is your homework, or more accurately: here is your blessing: You are simply to take a walk or sit at your window and be deeply and penetratingly aware. Whatever you see is God's offering to you. Whatever you see is a prayer! And you are to listen to what that prayer is saying to you without words. These are your 'spiritual sightings'.

As you begin this exercise turn to the Creator of Evening and pray these words from the poet, Rilke. [or choose your own words]

You are the tender evening hour that all poets equally love. You are the darkness pressing within them and the treasure each discovers, in surrounding you with endless praise.

As you begin your silent praise, remember that words are unnecessary. Your eyes will pray for you. Be present to your sightings. A few evenings ago when the great heat wave lifted I went for a walk. I am listing a few of my sightings below. These blessing prayers drew me into the self I have sadly been neglecting.

-- a crumpled, Sycamore Tree leaf
-- a small green shoot growing out of a seemingly dead branch
-- a goose with its long, proud neck raised to the heavens, standing motionless, keeping guard
-- a rabbit sitting at the entrance to the wooden cave made by a fallen Walnut Tree
-- 26 long stemmed mushrooms standing together on a grassy knoll watching the setting sun.

For a time, I kept vigil with them.
Then suddenly the cicada choir began to sing and my silence was only slightly broken. One lone bird joined the chorus and a firefly brought in her lantern. Rilke would say it like this:

A hundred thousand harps lift and swing you out of silence. And your primordial winds are bringing to all things and needs, the breath of your majesty.

(The two stanzas of poetry are taken from A Year with Rilke translated and edited by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows)

A cat just sauntered by my window. Do I hear some distant thunder? The leaves are paused. I hear a train whistle. Somebody could write a country song about that. I wonder what will be today.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011 -- Week of Proper 16, Year One
Martin de Porres, Rosa de Lima, and Toribio de Mogrovejo, Witnesses to the Faith in South America, 1639, 1617, 1607

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 980)
Psalms 119:1-24 (morning) 12, 13, 14 (evening)
1 Kings 3:1-15
Acts 27:9-26
Mark 14:1-11

So often, it is all about money.

In an extravagant, generous act, an unnamed woman poured a jar of costly ointment over Jesus, anointing him for death. Mark gives the cost of the perfume as equivalent to a day's wages for three hundred laborers. The act provokes a reaction. What a waste. Think of what the money for this ointment could have meant to the poor.

Jesus acknowledges the gift and the motives of the giver. "Let her alone; why do you trouble her? She has performed a good service for me." He goes on to say that "she has anointed my body beforehand for its burial." Later, the women who go to his tomb to anoint his body will discover that he has risen. Jesus says that this woman will be remembered wherever the good news is proclaimed. And indeed she is. Anonymously.

The other thing Jesus addresses is the competing value of helping the poor. "For you will always have the poor with you, and you can show kindness to them whenever you wish; but you will not always have me."

I've heard this verse quoted by some as an excuse not to give resources for the relief of the poor -- Jesus said that poverty is a problem that cannot be solved. I think that is a poor interpretation. Jesus was generous to the poor -- feeding, healing, teaching and befriending. I think he invites us to follow his example and to show kindness to the poor.

I would propose that the greatest division in our nation lies along this fault line: What is our relationship to the poor?

I think that most of the political conflicts in our nation today are competing visions about the poor.

There are those who believe that the system is fundamentally fair -- fair enough. Thanks to the freedom of opportunity our nation offers to all people, anyone with discipline and hard work can succeed. If someone is poor, it is probably because of their own lack of industry, talent or virtue. We destroy motivation and reward failure when we give away what should be earned. Give people a chance, but don't protect them from failure.

There are others who believe that the system is not fundamentally fair enough. There are some who enjoy unearned privilege, and many others who face such profound obstacles that they have very little possibility for success. Many believe that a just nation will expect the privileged to give power and resources to the underprivileged in order to even the playing field.

There is another debate about what responsibility we have toward others, regardless of our judgment of merit. Are food, shelter, and medical care human rights, or are they earned privileges? Do the wealthy and powerful owe anything to those who are poor and powerless?

Is a government just when it mandates values that take from some in order to give to others? Can a government be just if it doesn't?

I think these are the primary dividing lines that separate blue from red.

What would Jesus say?

Friday, August 26, 2011 -- Week of Proper 16, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 980)
Psalms 16, 17 (morning) 22 (evening)
1 Kings 5:1 - 6:1, 7
Acts 28:1-16
Mark 14:27-42

I remember educator John Westerhoff saying something like this: The Christian life is nothing more than making promises, and breaking promises; and making promises again, and breaking promises; and making promises again, and so on. The important thing is to keep making promises again. He then pointed us to the promises of the Baptismal Covenant, which we make with good intention. Within those promises, we resolve to continue to get up and to try again each time we fail: "...whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord."

Last night I was speaking to a friend who has just returned from Japan where he was helping untangle some of the legal issues that have occurred in the aftermath of the Tsunami. Wills and other legal documents have been lost; whole families drowned. How do you sort out the complicated property matters and other relational issues?

He described a town that lay on the coast, protected by a thirty foot sea wall. The city was settled along a coastal plain, spreading inland for a couple of miles to the foothills of some descending mountains. The Tsunami was more than twice as high as the sea wall, he said. The water simply overwhelmed it and swept the town away entirely. Complete destruction all the way to the hills. Near the seashore, on the beach there is a pole that has been established in the ground. It reads in Japanese: "Fall down seven times. Get up eight."

"You will all become deserters," Jesus tells his companions. Unthinkable. Impossible. Peter protests, "Even though all become deserters, I will not." But we can be broken. Despite our best efforts or strongest intentions, we sometimes fail. At the heart of the prayer Jesus taught us looms the threatening possibility -- "Save us from the time of trial."

Jesus prays earnestly to be delivered from the time of trial. It is not to be. Peter's strong will and intention will be broken by that trial. He will betray the one he most loves. He will betray his deepest belief and commitment. He will be broken. He will fail.

You can feel it coming even before the fact. As Jesus prays in anguish, he asks his friends to stay with him just a bit. Stay awake. They don't have to do anything. They don't even have to pray for him, to carry his fight for him. Just stay awake. But they are tired. Exhausted. Drained. We get that way. How many days in the hospital has it been? How long have we kept going? We meet our limits. We fold.

"Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour?" Jesus knows what is coming is more threatening and harder than just keeping awake when exhausted. He urges Peter to pray for himself. "Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial." If Peter is withering now, what will happen when the real threat comes? Peter means well. "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."

We sense what is coming. Peter will fail. At the most important moment of his life, he will shrink back. He will break. He will lie. He will deny his beloved friend. Three times.

Peter's greatest triumph is his subsequent willingness to live with his failed self and to renew his confidence.

Judas, who failed similarly, was too proud to do so. Judas' continued to insist on exercising full control of his life. Suicide is the ultimate act of control. Judas couldn't live with himself -- not a failed self.

But somehow Peter accepted his own miserable failure. He let himself be who he was. When Jesus rose from the dead to meet Peter, Peter willingly faced him and rejoiced, despite the shame.

I love the story on the beach, that concludes John's gospel. Three times Jesus asks Peter if he loves him. Three times Peter reaffirms his love. It is a poignant reaffirmation. Three times he denied his friend. Now three times he confirms him. Peter is restored and empowered. "Feed my lambs. ...Tend my sheep."

If Judas had not been so willful, had not stayed in control and continued to take things into his own hands, he too could have been similarly restored.

Well... the day is here. Time to get to work. I've got promises to keep. And some to renew. I'll never keep them all.

"Fall down seven times. Get up eight."

Monday, August 29, 2011 -- Week of Proper 17, Year One
John Bunyan, Writer, 1688

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 982)
Psalms 25 (morning) 9, 15 (evening)
2 Chronicles 6:32 - 7:7
James 2:1-13
Mark 14:53-65

Some of the ways I think of God include aspects of the spatial. I think of God as the center of all being, the midpoint of life and creation. Dante ends the Divine Comedy in the center of the circle of the Holy Trinity, his desire and his will being "turned like a wheel, all at one speed, by the Love which moves the sun and the other stars." In some sense my imagination has been affected by the cosmologists' description of the singularity "before" time from which emerged the Big Bang of creation. I imagine God before and behind all that is, the transcendent center from which everything emanates and yet is completely connected -- the animating energy, loving Wisdom from whom pours the Spirit of being.

There is also the sense of God's immanence. God is the Center with no circumference. Deeply present, closer to me than the air I breath, as lifegiving as my blood, my thought before I think. The seeing, the seer and the seen. "Where can I flee from your presence?"

So we hear Solomon's dedicatory prayer for the Jerusalem Temple. "But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built!" Yet the ancients insist, God's Name may dwell in a place made with hands. The builder asks that God's "eyes may be open night and day toward this house."

So we think of a Temple. A dwelling for God's Name among us and a focus for our earthly prayer. I think of the holy places made with hands where I experience a divine presence. Our altar. The aumbry where we ask the Name of Jesus to dwell. An icon. A candle. Solomon asks God to hear the people of Israel when they pray toward the Temple. "O hear in heaven your dwelling place; heed and forgive."

The Temple becomes a thin place of connection between heaven and earth, where oaths are confirmed and judgment rendered. A place of confession and forgiveness. Where the people bring their experience of catastrophe and find succor.

In the Temple there is ample room for the foreigner. Solomon asks that the prayer of the foreigner be honored in the Temple as the prayer of the Temple's own people. Our reading from James reminds us that we are to honor the poor and poorly dressed no less -- maybe even more -- when the congregation gathers in our holy place.

Solomon asks God's hearing of our prayer whenever we turn toward the Temple, wherever we may be. I have been with my Muslim friends as they face Mecca for their prayers, and I sense the groundedness of place and identity that comes from such a material spiritual anchor. I also find myself moved by those who come to receive communion in our own little church, who open their hands to receive the bread of Christ, and who look above and behind me at the east window image of Jesus welcoming the little children.

Where is our Temple? Where do we turn when we direct ourselves toward God?

My most common image involves a descent into the center of my being where I sense an opening into the infinity of God. A mutual indwelling opens in that vast singularity.

So many other things share a Templeish quality, all outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace. Moses sees a burning bush, and behold, it is full of God. There is the Name. There are words, mere created letters or sounds, which open into the Word. There is the shudder of intuition that seems to radiate a meaning or emotion that is not our own.

We turn to the Temple. We become the Temple. We are to be the place where God's Name dwells. Maybe even occasionally, we might be the Temple that someone else may turn to, like Jerusalem or Mecca, to seek God's presence or succor when in need or threat. I send a word of thanksgiving and reverence to those friends and strangers who have served as my own Temple.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011 -- Week of Proper 17, Year One
Charles Chapman Grafton, Bishop of Fond du lac, and Ecumenist, 1912

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 982)
Psalms 26, 28 (morning) 36, 39 (evening)
1 Kings 8:65 - 9:9
James 2:14-26
Mark 14:66-72

There was a brief phrase in today's first reading that sent a chill down my back. It comes at the conclusion of Solomon's dedication of the first Temple. After Solomon held a great festival, the scripture mentions that "the great assembly" had drawn "people from Lebo-hamath to the Wadi of Egypt." The phrase describes the idealized boundaries of Israel during the reigns of David and Solomon. It is one of those troubling phrases in the scripture that contributes to tension and violence today.

There is some disagreement exactly where Lebo-hamath lies, but it is between mountain ranges somewhere north of Damascus in Syria and east of Beruit in Lebanon. The Wadi of Egypt is the eastern boundary of Egypt.

This is one of the phrases in scripture that Zionists, including Christian Zionists, cite to make profound territorial claims on behalf of modern Israel.

I've seen one map promoted by Christian Zionists that declares that God has given to Israel the land in the Middle East stretching from the Mediterranian to the Euphrates, from Egypt to Turkey. Anyone who does not support Israel's domination of this territory is an enemy of God, they say. Some of them also cite the faithfulness of Ezra and Nehemiah, and propose some similar form of ethnic cleansing in that territory.

During our visit to Israel and Palestine we were able to meet a number of Palestinian Christians whose families have lived in the Holy Land for centuries. They told us a bit of what it is like living under occupation. It was an ugly story. The numbers seem to show that Christians in Israel are being ethnically cleansed, in some sense. Palestinian Christians are leaving, those who can. They find life in their own land terribly constrained and even hopeless.

Our closest experience of some of their everyday life was the checkpoints. We went through the checkpoints and experienced what seemed like senseless harassment and intimidation. The government of Israel does not want tourists to stay in Bethlehem, which is in the Palestinian territories. So our bus of very ordinary American tourists was stopped at the checkpoint each time we went between Bethlehem and Jerusalem. The wait was at least twenty minutes, at most fifty minutes. Twice we had soldiers armed with automatic weapons walk through our bus where we showed them our passports. The soldiers looked so young, so immature. One seemed almost chagrined that he was having to do this.

On another day we were all escorted off of our bus under gunpoint and processed about one hundred yards to go through a metal detector. There we witnessed close up the harassment and humiliation of the local population. A Muslim woman was in tears as she exposed herself underneath her full-body robe. Apparently the metal from her bra had set off the detector. An elderly man in flowing robes was held up for about twenty minutes. Finally he found what the contraband was. He showed it to the tourists as he eventually passed through the machine. It was a coin, less than half the size of a penny. A nurse was delayed from her work. She would be late to the hospital. Her metal buttons and zipper on her jeans made her inspection very time consuming. Every one of us, the tourists, set off the machine. We were waved through.

The ethnic cleansing of Christian tour groups staying in Bethlehem has been pretty successful. Our tour guide told us that very few groups are willing to put up with the hassle of the checkpoints. The company we toured with has an old relationship with the once thriving Christian community in Bethlehem. They persist in staying there for the sake of that struggling community. They thanked us for our patience, and for the hours of touring we sacrificed in order to make some contribution to the survival of our Christian brothers and sisters still living in Bethlehem.

I am no expert on the Middle East. But I experienced something that I would call injustice when I stayed among the Palestinians for a while.

There are those who declare that the world will never be at peace, that Jesus will not return, until Israel has dominion from Egypt to Turkey and from the Mediterranian to the Euphrates. I think those are the people who prevent peace.

In our reading today, the promises made to Solomon were conditional. The reign of the house of David and Solomon was conditioned upon their following God's commandments. The commandments include the expectations of justice, and they demand the same law for the foreigner as for the native.

Fulfilling God's intention for the Holy Land is more than domination on a map, particularly if that domination is accompanied by injustice. Those of us in the mainstream of Christianity need to confront the dangerous and unjust claims of Christian Zionism.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011 -- Week of Proper 17, Year One
Aidan and Cuthbert, Bishops of Lindisfarne, 651, 684

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 982)
Psalms 38 (morning) 119:25-48 (evening)
1 Kings 9:24 - 10:13
James 3:1-12
Mark 15:1-11

Solomon wowed the queen of Sheba. He excelled in wisdom. He displayed his great wealth in grand style. To look at Israel from the boardroom of the CEO, it was an impressive sight.

But below the surface things were not so pretty. Solomon's great building projects were driven largely by slave labor. Although this chapter denies that he conscripted forced labor from Israelites (9:22), that is contradicted in chapters 5 and 10 as well as by the motivation for the subsequent rebellion that divided the nation. The long simmering resentments over the privileges that Judah enjoyed, and the burden of supporting Solomon's extravagance were already sowing the seeds of rebellion even while Solomon entertained so exquisitely in court.

I can't remember the source, but I recall some reports from archeological studies that point to a dramatic change that occurred about this time in Israel's history. Throughout the days of the confederacy of tribes and through the early monarchy, there is little evidence of dramatic differences in economic status among the people of Israel. Wealth was fairly evenly divided and the most prosperous lived in a style that was not remarkably different from the common person.

Around the time of Solomon that changed. Archeologists see the emergence of signs of concentrated wealth and consumption among a small group of elite, alongside the presence of a slave class. There is a new division of wealth and class that did not exist in Israel's earlier history.

As I read of Solomon's exploits and remember the quick disillusion of his empire, two contemporary situations come to mind -- the Arab spring and the new concentration of wealth in this country.

In so many ways Solomon was a typical oriental despot. He displayed his status and power extravagantly, including his harem of wives and concubines. The account of his reign is full of weights of measures of gold and other luxuries. His legendary wisdom, it seems, was an elitist wisdom, not the kind of street smarts that creates a sustainable and just nation. His dynasty did not survive. Like today in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Bahrain, Yemen, Syria and elsewhere, the subjects of Solomon's reign were hungry for an opportunity to topple the oppressive regime.

Lest our own nation be too complacent, we need to mark some of the signs of instability and injustice that do not make for a sustainable foundation. A profound economic gap has been growing in this nation beginning from the 1970's. Income has been flat for average Americans for thirty years. Wealth has become concentrated in fewer hands.

Former National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski pointed out recently that 400 Americans own more wealth than 150 million other Americans.

In the past 30 years the wealthiest 1% increased their share of national wealth from 7% to 23%.

50% of all the children in our nation will depend on food stamps at some point in their lives. In our congressional district, the poverty rate recently rose from one-in-five to one-in-four. That happened in just over one year.

The August edition of "Mother Jones" has a series of graphs and reports that highlight how hard American workers are working -- productivity has increased dramatically -- while wages have dropped and jobs have disappeared. Corporate profits are strong and many companies have unprecedented cash reserves, but few companies are creating jobs to produce products for consumers who have little to spend.

It is as if all of the money has fled upstairs and just sits there among the elite. It is not the picture of a healthy, sustainable or just economy.

The irony of the purported rebellion of the Tea Party is that their goals only play into the hands of those who already have so much money and power. Tea Party policies can only accelerate the concentration of wealth.

While Solomon entertained the queen of Sheba, his kingdom crumbled beneath him. An American plutocracy of corporate wealth and power now dominates our policies while an underclass suffers and a middle class stagnates. These are not signs of stability.

Friday, September 2, 2011 -- Week of Proper 17, Year One
The Martyrs of New Guinea, 1942

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 982)
Psalms 31 (morning) 35 (evening)
1 Kings 11:26-43
James 4:13 - 5:6
Mark 15:22-32

Perspective changes when we see reality through the cross. Mark's spare, straightforward account of Jesus' execution is so gaunt and factual. It is raw, like a pitiless camera.

"Then they brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of a skull). And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh; but he did not take it. And they crucified him, and divided his clothes among them, casting lots to decide what each should take. It was nine o'clock in the morning when they crucified him..." (Mark 22-25)

Helplessly we watch. The taunting and shaming -- even his fellow victims join the insults as they die.

There is something purging about our attachment to this scene. It changes the way we see injustice and suffering. And being willing to see, able to see injustice and suffering, changes the way we perceive everything.

If we can look upon this scene and see hope, we have cause for an unquenchable hope in all circumstances. What God does is resurrection. What God does best is to bring new life out of death. Whenever we see another human tragedy, or even evil itself, we know we are looking at another manifestation of the cross of Jesus. We can look at the new horror with the same stark reality as Mark's depiction of the cross; we can look, and not turn away. We can see, and yet hope. For we have seen the cross, and we know the resurrection.

Pain can be revelatory. Robert J. Wicks tells about a Dominican priest, Albert Nolan, who worked extensively in South Africa during the saddest days of Apartheid. Nolan once said, "There is nothing to replace the immediate contact with pain and hunger -- seeing people in the cold and rain after their houses have been bulldozed, or experiencing the intolerable smell in a slum, or seeing what children look like when they are suffering from malnutrition." Wicks goes on to interpret: "In saying this, his message was not one of despair and defeatism, it was one of faith. To a faith-full person, such an experience would certainly hurt, but more than that, it would lead to compassion. Faith gives us the opportunity to listen for the call of Christ in pain just as we listen to his support and encouragement during times of joy. With such faith, no matter what the circumstances, the step toward hope is a real and natural one."

(Robert J. Wicks, Living Simply in an Anxious World, Paulist Press, 1988, p. 5. The quote from Albert Nolan is from Spiritual Growth and Option for the Poor, a speech to the Catholic Institute for International Relations, London, June 29, 1984)

Monday, September 5, 2011 -- Week of Proper 18, Year One
Gregorio Aglipay, Priest and Founder of the Philippine Independent Church, 1940
Labor Day

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 982)
Psalms 41, 52 (morning) 44 (evening)
1 Kings 13:1-10
Philippians 1:1-11
Mark 15:40-47

A Collect for Labor Day (BCP, p. 261

Almighty God, you have so linked our lives one with another that all we do affects, for good or ill, all other lives: So guide us in the work we do, that we may do it not for self alone, but for the common good; and, as we seek a proper return for our own labor, make us mindful of the rightful aspirations of other workers, and around our concern for those who are out of work; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

From Tilden Edwards, Living Simply Through the Day

How But how do we serve? Especially how do we simply serve? We are pressed from every side with opportunities and challenges: in our work, our family life, with friends, with materially and emotionally destitute people, with animals and plants, with social, political, and economic structures crying for justice. Then there are those cries from within: our own bodies and minds crying for nourishment.

Attitude
As with our prayer and spiritual development as a whole, it is our basic attitude that is most important, the same attitude is needed for everything else: patient attentiveness. Just as we do no wait for God but on God, so we do not wait for but on others. Even those who are closest to us remain surprising mysteries. If we think we know others and their needs perfectly well, our form of service is likely to be oppressive: we will act out of our assumptions and give them what we think they need, which more than likely is a projection of our own needs. Our greatest service to others will be to give them "space": to provide an environment which will help free their spirits to unfold and their bodies to heal. (Paulist Press, p. 162)

Edwards footnotes Thomas Merton's Contemplation in a World of Action, Doubleday, 1971) -- Thomas Merton in his own way elaborates on this danger, and integrally ties together awareness and action, when he says: "He who attempts to act and do things for others or for the world without deepening his own self-understanding, freedom, integrity, and capacity to love, will not have anything to give others He will communicate to them nothing but the contagion of his own obsessions, his aggressivity, his ego-centered ambitions, his delusions about ends and means."

Tuesday, September 6, 2011 -- Week of Proper 18, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 982)
Psalms 45 (morning) 47, 48 (evening)
1 Kings 16:23-34
Philippians 1:12-30
Mark 16:1-8(9-20)

Today's selection from Paul's letter to the Philippians is a muscular passage, ripe with military and athletic imagery. Paul writes from prison, and he writes joyfully. Some of his joy is his sense of the spread of the gospel, which he sees facilitated by his imprisonment. The word that is translated as "spread" (or sometimes "progress") is a word related to the activity of cutting a path for an army's progress. Even in jail, Paul is cutting a path for the spread of the progress of the gospel.

Paul says that he has become familiar to the whole praetorium, and that they know that his imprisonment is related to his witness to Christ. Scholars debate over whether Paul is speaking of the imperial guard in Rome, or the praetorium of another Roman administration in places like Caesarea, Ephesus, or Corinth. Whatever the setting, we see Paul vigorously debating his case and Christ's cause, making progress to spread the gospel among his guards and elsewhere. His imprisonment is an active one.

Paul knows that part of his struggle is with competing Christian leaders, probably Judaizers, who insist that the Jesus movement continue as a reform of Judaism, with the expectation that Christians continue to observe the Torah, including the practice of circumcision and kosher. Paul's lengthy conflict with these fellow Christians mark them as his enemies. He indicts their motives. He says they intend to increase his suffering in his imprisonment. Yet he also can rejoice or rationalize. "What does it matter? Just this, that Christ is proclaimed in every way, whether out of false motives or true; and in that I rejoice."

Paul offers us a helpful image in the conflicts and competition that affect the Christian church, with all of our divisive issues and various denominations today. Paul is self-defining and combative, but he also recognizes and rejoices that "Christ is proclaimed in every way." He honors and respects the presence and centrality of Christ even among those groups he regards as being seriously wrong in their theology and practice.

You get the feeling that Paul really lives with a deep joy that overcomes the circumstances of his imprisonment and the theological battles that he wages. His expresses a deep sense of security. If he suffers or dies, he shares Christ's suffering and death. If he lives and "cuts a path," he progresses and spreads the faith of Christ. Joy abounds.

Paul closes this section with a series of military images -- "standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, and in no way intimidated by your opponents" -- he speaks like an encouraging coach, urging his readers to persevere, "since you are having the same struggle that you saw I have and now hear that I still have."

My memory goes back to the late Hubert Humphrey. He was nicknamed the "Happy Warrior." I remember his characteristic smile and radiant being. He left college as a boy because of his family's financial troubles, and helped his dad start a new drugstore. He worked there for seven years, but he did not enjoy pharmacy (a form of imprisonment?). Eventually he returned to school to study political science. He came to national prominence at the Democratic convention of 1948 when he successfully defeated the rather modest civil rights plank urged by incumbent president Harry Truman. Humphrey lead a successful minority resolution on behalf of a strong statement in support of equal rights. The actions of that convention split the party as Southern Democrats created the Dixiecrat party.

Humphrey was an outspoken and energetic proponent of civil rights, arms control, a nuclear test ban, and many humanitarian causes. He introduced early legislation to create the Peace Corps. He was instrumental in the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights bill.

A joyful protagonist. Paul's letter to the Philippians is the letter of a happy warrior. In muscular and athletic language he urges his readers to be strong and secure, active and proactive, happy and joyful. On the day after Labor Day, we resume our work. May we do so with energy and joy, and, when necessary, a bit of the competitive spirit that Paul models for us.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011 -- Week of Proper 18, Year One
Elie Naud, Hugenot Witness to the Faith, 1722

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 982)
Psalms 119:49-72 (morning) 49, [53] (evening)
1 Kings 17:1-24
Philippians 2:1-11
Matthew 2:1-12

It seems so odd that some expressions of Christianity are as hostile as they are toward other religions and toward science. In today's Daily Office readings we have stories that offer to us another spirit.

We begin our sequential reading of Matthew today starting in the second chapter. Wise men from the east come to the manger of the infant Jesus. At the manger, they are welcome.

Who are these wise men? They are not Jewish. They are people who practice another faith. In some way, they are first century scientists. They observe the movements of the planets and stars. At the manger of Jesus, their knowledge is welcome.

How small is your God? How small is your Jesus? At our best, we proclaim a God in Christ who is perfect truth, the fullness of all that is is in God. So, wherever truth is discovered, it is a manifestation of the truth of God. And wherever faith becomes real it is the manifestation of the Word of God whom we speak of as the Second Person of the Holy Trinity. Whenever scientists discover new truth by observation or by experimentation, whatever they discover is consistent with the God of truth, because God is truth. There is no inconsistency between the truth of evolutionary theory and the Biblical truth that God created the heavens and the earth.

Whenever someone following a different faith tradition connects with the depths of spiritual reality and lives with faith, love and compassion, that person experiences the Word of God manifest.

We return to the wise men. Following science and the practice of their own faith, they come to the manger. They find welcome. They are not opposed as followers of another religion. Their gifts are not refused because they are the fruits of a scientific or foreign religion process. Their faith and their knowledge are welcome at the manger, because all faith and all knowledge are grounded essentially in God.

In our first reading, Elijah finds refuge in the home of a foreign woman, the widow of Zarephath, a town in Sidon. Presumably she follows the faith of her people, worshiping Baal or one of the fertility cults that was common among the non-Jewish neighbors of Israel. She and Elijah live in peace and mutual accord during the drought. She welcomes him, a foreign prophet. He raises her son from the dead. She doesn't become Jewish. The son isn't circumcised. But goodness, truth and life comes from their relationship as they treat one another with deference and honor.

Which bring us to the reading from Paul's letter to the Philippians. "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others." In an "honor culture" where people see themselves as competing against one another to gain honor as a limited commodity, this is startling language. Paul suggests that it is in emptying ourselves that Jesus is exalted. The path of humility and servanthood is the path that reveals Jesus. There is nothing coercive or prideful about this way. But this is the way that will ultimately reveal the glory of Christ, who because of his self-emptying, "God highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."

So the path Paul offers for glorifying Christ is to "regard others as better than yourselves," looking to their interests rather than your own." That is a context of peace, love and respect within which we can be in relationship with those of other faiths and other knowledge.

We can trust that all faith and all knowledge leads to God. We don't have to challenge or compete for God to be true. We need only be humble, faithful and charitable -- like the holy family at the manger, and like Elijah in Zarephath. No need for arrogant attacks at science or threats of hell to Buddhists. That is all very unlike Jesus.

Friday, September 9, 2011 -- Week of Proper 18, Year One
Constance, Nun, and Her Companions, Commonly called "The Martyrs of Memphis," 1878

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 982)
Psalms 40, 54 (morning) 51 (evening)
1 Kings 18:20-40
Philippians 3:1-16
Matthew 3:1-12

"If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more... I regard everything as loss, because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." Philippians 3:4b, 7b-8a

Paul had an outstanding resume. He had done as well as you can do. He was disciplined, accomplished, prayerful, observant. He knew the religious expectations for a moral and pious life, and he had lived up to those expectations. He obeyed the law. He was zealous and obedient. He had done life right. But he was miserable. Perpetually anxious.

Performance anxiety. He asked himself constantly: Am I doing everything right? Am I forgetting anything? Is my heart pure? Have I treated all with proper respect? Have I neglected anything? His vigilance was so constant, that he could always acquit himself. Yes, he was following the straight and narrow. No one could fault him. He obeyed every law of God, he observed the statutes and commandments, he crossed every "t" and dotted every "i." No one could touch him for his conscientiousness and scrupulosity.

So why was he miserable? Why perpetually anxious? He did his best. He followed every moral and religious expectation of uprightness. But he was miserable. Perpetually anxious.

He wanted to feel that he was okay. He wanted to know that he was okay with God. He wanted the comfort of knowing that he was accepted and acceptable before God. The old words were "justified" and "righteous." He wanted the comfort of knowing that he was justified and righteous before God -- that God accepted him.

But Paul was trapped in a condition of anxiety. Performance anxiety. He did his best, but was it good enough? And maybe he had done everything right yesterday, what about today? ...and tomorrow? What if he missed something? What if he let his guard down for even a moment? What if he failed? If he ever failed, would that ruin everything? Forever? The "what-ifs" haunted him. Deep within he wanted to escape them. What if it wasn't so hard? What if God wasn't a perfection demanding judge? What if God really loved him, really accepted him?

Don't think about that. Just stay vigilant and never let down your guard.

Like so many of us, Paul projected his misery on to others. It disperses your anxiety and self-questioning if you can find someone whom you know has failed and correct them. Take out your misery and anxiety on someone who really deserves it, someone you know is worse than you, someone you know is living in the wrong.

So Paul persecuted a sect who followed the false Messiah Jesus. But as he persecuted them, he saw in them a joy and freedom that eluded him.

On the road to Damascus, armed with arrest warrants to purge the wrongdoers from the earth, it all became too much for him. The righteous indignation and internal anxiety was too much to hold together. His whole world imploded. He was struck blind. He realized he was wrong. You can't earn your place before God. Paul couldn't. Nobody can. He had been wrong about that for his whole life. It's not all about performance. Nobody can perform perfectly enough to stand before God. But, it struck him, it doesn't matter. That's what the Jesus followers were saying. God loves us anyway. It's all about love. Paul was blinded by love.

It's all a gift. God's gift. God chooses us before we can earn it. Even while we are failing, God loves and forgives us with infinite grace. Just because that's the way God is. That's the God Jesus points to. It's all in the cross. The cross is the ultimate human failure, human evil. In Christ, God soaks up our failure and evil, and gives back nothing but love -- love that overcomes evil; love that overcomes even the last evil -- death. God swallows up death with resurrection.

And Paul's eyes were opened to the light. He knew that he was accepted by God -- justified, made righteous, in a right relationship with God. His justification was pure gift. Grace. It was God's pleasure to love Paul and to declare him beloved. All Paul had to do was accept the gift. That's faith. Trust that God loves us and accept the gift of unqualified love that frees us. Justification by grace, through faith.

Anxiety goes away. It's not about performance anymore. It's about love. We are loved. We are accepted. It's a gift. We are free.

Out of the energy of that loving acceptance, Paul found he was free to love as he had never loved before. As God as loved us, so we can walk in love. It's the most natural thing in the world. No more anxiety. Just love. And when you are loved so fully, you are free. Free to respond in a spirit of love. That's life in Christ. Everything else is just rubbish. Paul's only desire was to live "in Christ," and "be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection of the dead." (Philippians 3:9-11)

Monday, September 12, 2011 -- Week of Proper 19, Year One
John Henry Hobart, Bishop of New York, 1830

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 984)
Psalms 56, 57, [58] (morning) 64, 65 (evening)
1 Kings 21:1-16
1 Corinthians 1:1-19
Matthew 4:1-11

Thomas Keating describes the false self as three energy centers within us, which motivate us to act to satisfy our ego's exaggerated needs. These energy centers emerge in early childhood, when we are most vulnerable, as our attempt to cope whenever we experienced a sense of depravation or fear. The three primary energy centers of the false self, says Keating, are our exaggerated needs for security, esteem and power. We have legitimate needs for security, esteem/affection and power/control, but out of our vulnerable sense of insecurity, we inevitably exaggerate our needs. Most of our problems are related to our attempts to satisfy these exaggerated needs by trying to accumulate whatever symbols of security, esteem and power make us feel good.

Keating is putting into contemporary terms the same thing that the Gospel writers told through story two thousand years ago. Today's Daily Office gives us Matthew's version of the temptation of Christ.

Christ has been in the wilderness fasting for forty days. He was famished. The tempter offers Jesus a quick shortcut to meet his security needs for food -- turn the stones into loaves of bread.

The tempter next offers Jesus a dramatic act guaranteed to raise esteem for him as he begins his public ministry. From the pinnacle of the temple, the most visible sight in Jerusalem, Jesus can throw himself to the ground safely, for the angels love him so much they will protect him (the devil quotes scripture to prove it).

Finally the tempter offers Jesus the power and splendor of all the kingdoms.

Jesus turns away from each of the false offers. Instead, Jesus embraces God the Father as his source of perfect security, perfect love, and perfect power. Accepting security, esteem and power as a gift rather than trying to achieve them on our own is a fundamental exercise of faith.

Our needs are so exquisite, and their fulfilling is so tempting, that it is hard to resist the notion that we can reach out and achieve them for ourselves. It takes trust and discipline to dismantle our addiction and attachment to the ways we try to satisfy our exaggerated needs. For most of our lives, it is the first order of business of the spiritual life to turn away from these compulsions.

Freedom begins when we unanxiously accept ourselves as perfectly secure, loved, and empowered from God, here and now. Free from compulsions, we can respond as Jesus did -- living from every word that comes from the mouth of God, not putting God to the test, but worshipping and serving only God.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011 -- Week of Proper 19, Year One
John Chrysostom, Bishop of Constantinople, 407

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 984)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) 68:1-20(21-23)24-36 (evening)
1 Kings 21:17-29
1 Corinthians 1:20-31
Matthew 4:12-17

For God alone my soul in silence waits;
from God comes my salvation.

How long will you assail me to crush me,
all of you together,
as if you were a leaning fence, a toppling wall?
(Psalms 62:1-3)
St. Helena Psalter

[God] is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption... (I Corinthians 1:30)

I have an incredibly easy life. A loving family. So many friends and good colleagues to share work. Good health. A great community. No enemies. No really significant problems. ...Except. I let my "to do" list (and unanswered email) "assail me to crush me, all of you together, as if you were a leaning fence, a toppling wall." As I write this, it even sounds like whining.

My crippling myth is that if I get a little extra time, and if I work hard and fast enough, I'll catch up and get it all done. Somebody calls that "practical atheism." It's all up to me. I've got to do it, and if I don't, nobody will, and... Well... Catastrophe!!

What rubbish.

That's my personal version of Paul's pre-Damascus Road pathology. Paul was trying to be perfect, and doing a pretty good job of it. But he suffered from performance anxiety and couldn't relax, and just be. My performance anxiety is less compelling than Paul's. At least he was anxious about pleasing God. I'm just anxious about my silly email/to-do list.

Stop. Quit. Surrender.

For God alone my soul in silence waits; from God comes my salvation. God alone is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold, so that I shall not be greatly shaken.

God is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption.

So I relax. Center. Give it all to God. Then, do what I can, relaxed and connected, moment by moment. And leave the universe to God. Including my email and my to do list. (Seems like I get more done that way too.)

Wednesday, September 14, 2011 -- Week of Proper 19, Year One
Holy Cross Day

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Wednesday of Proper 19 (p. 984)
Psalms 72 (morning) 19:73-96 (evening)
1 Kings 22:1-28
1 Corinthians 1:1-13
Matthew 4:18-25

OR the readings for Holy Cross Day, (p. 999)
Morning Prayer: Psalms 66; Numbers 21:4-9; John 3:11-17
Evening Prayer: Psalms 118; Genesis 3:1-15; 1 Peter 3:17-22

For Holy Cross Day

Sometimes I do my own form of anthropomorphising the story of Jesus' death. Maybe I'm using that word wrong, but here's what I do. I wonder how I would have interpreted what was happening, had I been Jesus, when the bottom fell out of Jesus' mission and ministry, and he had to face the time of trial. I wonder how I would have reacted. Would I have resisted the inclination to despair and depression?

I know I am too motivated by results. I want things to work out for the best. I like to see a plan start, to solve the inevitable problems, and get it to a place where it is working. Then I like to go to the next plan. I like to see things improve.

At my healthiest, I can do the best I can do right here, right now, and let go of most of my attachment to results. I can be patient as we tweak a plan, solve problems, and work now for something that is likely to come to fruition in the future. I tend to be an optimist, to keep plugging away and hope that things will get better. But if I get to the place where I'm having a hard time imagining that something is going to work out eventually, I tend to get stuck.

I can imagine the excitement that Jesus might have felt working with people day by day, bringing a bit of light and healing and coherence to their lives. Sometimes I get to do that myself. I can imagine his sense of process as he slowly puts together his team of disciples and watches them become more empowered and loving, despite the occasional quarrels and pettiness. I can enjoy his joy in teaching and telling stories that help others bring new perspective and clarity to a greater reality. What joy it is to connect people with God.

But when it all falls in around his ears, and his doom seems certain, how did he move through that? When it looks like everything he had worked for would probably be destroyed, how did he face that faithfully? How might I have moved through that? When he had to give up all that seemed good and satisfying and hopeful in his life and work, how did he remain coherent?

I'm reminded of a quote from a letter from Thomas Merton:

Do not depend on the hope of results. ...You may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the truth of the work itself. And there too, a great deal has to be gone through, as gradually you struggle less and less for an idea and more and more for specific people. The range tends to narrow down, but it gets much more real. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationships that saves everything...

...there is no point in building our lives on ...personal satisfaction, which may be denied us and which after all is not that important. ...You are probably striving to build yourself an identity in your work, out of your work and your witness. You are using it, so to speak, to protect yourself against nothingness, annihilation. That is not the right use of your work. All the good that you will do will come not from you but from the fact that you have allowed yourself, in obedience of faith, to be used by God's love. Think of this more and gradually you will be free from the need to prove yourself, and you can be more open to the power that will work though you without your knowing it...

The real hope, then, is not in something we think we can do, but in God who is making something good out of it in some way we cannot see.

(Thomas Merton, quoted by Robert J. Wicks, Living Simply in an Anxious World, Paulist, 1988, p. 42)

Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ was lifted high upon the cross that he might draw the whole world to himself: Mercifully grant that we, who glory in the mystery of our redemption, may have grace to take up our cross and follow him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.
(The Collect for Holy Cross Day, Book of Common Prayer, p. 244)

Friday, September 16, 2011 -- Week of Proper 19, Year One
Ninian, Bishop in Galloway, c. 430

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 984)
Psalms 69:1-23(24-30)31-38 (morning) 73 (evening)
2 Kings 1:2-17
1 Corinthians 3:16-23
Matthew 5:11-16

There is an old saying that I have ambivalent feelings about: “Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.” I've seen it attributed to St. Augustine and to St. Ignatius of Loyola. Sounds like Ignatius.

For such proverb to work, it seems to me that you really have to emphasize the first phrase, and work out of the joy, strength and discernment that comes from your prayer. Otherwise, it's too easy to fall into the unhealthy pit of willfulness and control.

I sense some of this aphorism's tension in the readings today.

Paul cautions the Corinthians about depending upon their own wisdom or upon the wisdom of this world. He urges them instead to trust God's wisdom, which is displayed in Jesus' surrender on the cross, which is, as he says elsewhere, an apparent folly and foolishness to the wise. He reminds them that "all things are yours, whether ...the world or life or death or the present or the future -- all belong to you, and you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God." (1 Corinthians 3:22f) Sounds like "Pray as though everything depended on God."

But this comes in the context of the previous paragraphs where he urges them to work, to build with care on the foundation that Paul has laid. "The work of each builder will be come visible, for the Day will disclose it... If what has been built on the foundation survives, the builder will receive a reward. If the work is burned up, the builder will suffer loss; the builder will be saved, but only as through fire." (1 Corinthians 3:13f) Sounds a bit like "Work as though everything depended on you."

Matthew 5 opens with an invitation to deep trust in God. The Beatitudes speak blessings to those who are walking in a path of trusting surrender. Sounds like "Pray as though everything depended on God." Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted and reviled. God blesses and rewards you.

Then we are encouraged to be salt and light. Sounds like "Work as though everything depended on you. "Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." (Matthew 5:16)

I ran across a story attributed to Rabbi Levi of Berdichev:
Rabbi Levi taught that everything in God’s creation has good in it. A student challenged the Rabbi, asking him what could be good about atheism. Rabbi Levi responded: “The atheist can’t look at a poor person and say, ‘God will help you.’” The atheist knows that we must provide for our fellow human beings in time of need. We who believe in God, on the other hand, pray that God will bring an end to all forms of want and deprivation. We are tempted to let God feed the hungry or clothe the naked. And yet, we must act as if God has absolutely no power in this realm, giving freely of our own resources and time to alleviate poverty and inequality,illness and loneliness. (Does God Pray? Sermon given January 18, 2002, by Rabbi Barry H. Block, http://www.bethelsa.org/be_s0118.htm, quoted online at http://emp.byui.edu/marrottr/Pray-hypocrisy.pdf)

I am convinced that God holds us accountable. God expects us to respond generously and compassionately to "end all forms of want and deprivation" and to " alleviate poverty and inequality, illness and loneliness." That is our job and our responsibility. As the epistle of James says, "If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,' and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?" (James 2:15f)

I also think this is a political as well a a moral responsibility. In August, 2000, Congress cut $12 billion from future food benefits. That more than twice what food banks and food charities deliver in a year ($5 billion). All of the food that people receive from food charities across the country amounts to about 6% of the food the poor receive from federal food programs, mostly food stamps and school lunches. At this moment, Republican lawmakers seem to have programs like these in their crosshairs for funding cuts so we can reduce a deficit created by tax cuts, unfunded wars, an unfunded drug benefit and a depression created by loose regulations on the greed of the financial industries. Sounds like "Work as though there is no God."

I tend to need to be reminded first and foremost to "Pray as though everything depended upon God." For me, it comes too naturally to "Work as though everything depended on you." Such work becomes oppressive, for me and for others. There is a way to have low expectations and high hopes, to relax and let be, and then respond responsively in trust. I know how to do that, when I remember. But it has to start with prayer. "Blessed are the poor in spirit." Surrender. Trust. Love. Out of that comes the energy for compassion and responsibility that makes for good work. Otherwise, I'm projecting my shadow and my anxiety.

Monday, September 19, 2011 -- Week of Proper 20, Year One
Theodore of Tarsus, Archbishop of Canterbury, 690

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 984)
Psalms 80 (morning) 77, [79] (evening)
2 Kings 5:1-19
1 Corinthians 4:8-21
Matthew 5:21-26

In his Anglican Theological Review memorial tribute to the late theologian Richard Norris, historian Richard Corney recalled a sermon that Dick Norris preached using as his text a verse from today's first reading. The Syrian general Naaman has approached the home of the prophet of Israel, Elisha, expecting the prophet to perform a great miracle to cure his leprosy. The prophet merely sends a messenger to tell the general to go wash in the River Jordan seven times and he will be cured. Naaman is underwhelmed and insulted.

Dick Norris introduced his sermon with this quote from Naaman (2 Kings 5:12a): "Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel?" "Doubtless they are," spoke Norris, opening his sermon.

Norris continued, making his point -- when God calls you to something, you do not waste time suggesting that God might find a better way to do the task. You just go ahead and do it.

Naaman -- a Syrian general -- must wrestle with his pride and expectations in order to accept such a nondescript and humble command sent to him second-hand through a messenger of the prophet Elisha. It is not the way things are done in the Syrian court.

Paul is wrestling with the pride of his Corinthian church as he writes them from a distance. They have become arrogant, boasting of their spiritual wealth, and probably their material wealth as well. Yet Paul, their founder and father in the faith, lives a life on the edge. The apostle who has become "a spectacle to the world, to angels and mortals. We are fools for the sake of Christ, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we in disrepute. To the present hour we are hungry and thirsty, we are poorly clothed and beaten and homeless, and we grow weary from the work of our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we speak kindly. We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day." (1 Cor. 4:9f) Paul wouldn't have it any other way. He's having a great time.

Paul knows that he is doing what he was born to do. When he was confronted and called on the Damascus Road, despite his pride and expectations, he didn't waste time suggesting that God might find a better way; he launched boldly into his mission to the Gentiles. Now he's on fire.

I have a friend who models something for me. She lives with a concentrated intuitive attention to what it is that God is calling her to, moment by moment. She is simply convinced that God is intimately interested, involved and concerned with her every action. Each situation is a potential call from God. She lives expecting God to care for whatever may be catching her attention. She expects God to lead her, show her, prod her. She expects that God will use her continuously, and she is certain that God is doing important things around her, with her, and through her. And, what do you know? God does.

I'm too proud for all of that. I tend to think God has other, more significant things on the divine Mind. God has the more serious business of the great rivers Abana and Pharpar to attend to. Are the thoughts and attentions of God intimately concerned with my little River Jordan affairs? Doubtless they are.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011 -- Week of Proper 20, Year One
John Coleridge Patteson and his Companions, Bishop of Melanesia, Martyrs, 1871

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 984)
Psalms 78:1-39 (morning) 78:40-72 (evening)
2 Kings 5:19-27
1 Corinthians 5:1-8
Matthew 5:27-37

Right behavior was at the heart of the ethical tradition that Jesus received from his inherited religion. Religious teachers in Judaism strove to define faithful behavior in all activities of life. They based their descriptions on high ideals of justice, community responsibility, purity and faithfulness toward God. The objective standards were challenging but achievable. Anyone who behaved according to the law could be regarded as righteous before God and humanity.

But Jesus raised the bar. It is not only our observable behavior that is is accountable before God, but also our inward motivation. God knows our hearts. Jesus encouraged his followers to concentrate not primarily on outward behavior, but rather on our inner motivations, the "thoughts of our hearts," the heart being regarded as the center of being, both feeling and thought. Jesus wants us to be people with awakened hearts, loving hearts.

The contrast between the two approaches is especially stark in today's reading from Jesus' words in Matthew's collection that we call the Sermon on the Mount. He starts, "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery.'" That is the law, the Seventh of the Ten Commandments. It is an objective ethical standard based on right behavior. Even at that, there could be some room for interpretation -- what actually is adultery? (Is it adultery if we don't "go all the way"?) For the most part, we know what "Thou shalt not commit adultery" means. So, a conscientious person could know -- if you have not had sexual relations with one who was not your spouse, you are righteous with regard to that commandment; you have followed the law; you can stand before God.

Jesus goes further. "But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart." Gulp. When we look at the motivations of our heart, no one can stand confidently before God possessing a righteousness of our own.

Jesus' commandment is a great leveler. The distinction between sinner and righteous dissolves. All have harbored some form of unfaithfulness in our hearts. No one is righteous. Not one. And yet, Jesus teaches that God loves and forgives all. God embraces us in our sin. God accepts and loves us unconditionally.

Now, in the face of that unconditional acceptance, Jesus invites us to look at our hearts, and be disarmed. Whenever we look at another person with lust, we realize that our thoughts are God's possession. We drag God into our own adultery. Nevertheless, God does not reject or abandon us. God loves us even as we foul God. Humbling, isn't it? God's love is our motivation, both for surrender and for transformation.

Awaken, O my heart. Let God's penetrating and disarming love transform what seems beyond my control.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011 -- Week of Proper 20, Year One
Saint Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Wednesday of Proper 20, (p. 984)
Psalms 119:97-120 (morning) 81, 82 (evening)
2 Kings 6:1-23
1 Corinthians 5:9 - 6:8
Matthew 5:38-48

OR the readings for St. Matthew (p. 999)
Morning Prayer: Psalms 119:41-64; Isaiah 8:11-20; Romans 10:1-15
Evening Prayer: Psalms 19, 122; Job 28:12-28; Matthew 13:44-52

I chose the readings for Wednesday of Proper 20

"You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile." Matthew 5:38-41

Jesus invites his followers into a path of aggressive, shrewd nonviolent resistance.

A strike on the right cheek would typically describe a common way for a superior to assault an inferior in an act of dominance. It would be a backhanded strike with the right hand. To turn the other cheek to offer the left side would present a challenge to the attacker. A backhand slap could not be accomplished. The angle would be wrong for a right handed strike, and the left hand was not used for such things. If the aggressor were to strike with the open right hand, it would communicate a challenge of an equal. If the aggressor were to punch, it would also be the action of an equal to an equal. To turn the left cheek is to stand before an aggressor as an equal. It is an aggressive, non-violent act of a disempowered person to compromise the honor of the more powerful.

If a creditor claims a debtor's coat, and the debtor removes both the coat and the cloak in response, the debtor poses two problems to the creditor. First, the Torah prohibits a creditor from taking the cloak from a debtor (Deuteronomy 23:10-13). Second, in the Hebrew culture, to view the nakedness of another brings shame to the viewer. (See the story of the curse of Ham, Genesis 9:20f) By removing one's coat and cloak, the creditor forces the debtor to break the law and to be shamed.

Roman law allowed their authorities to demand subjects in occupied lands carry equipment and messages for up to one mile. It was a violation of Roman law to force one to carry anything beyond one mile. Officers convicted of doing so faced military discipline. To go the second mile after being forced to carry something for one mile might subject the officer to legal charges.

Jesus' advice is consistent with nonviolent strategies often employed by disempowered people.

But he goes a couple of steps further. "Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you." Such radical generosity if widely embraced might be the undoing of aggressive economic practices.

"You have heard it that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Part of loving one's enemies and praying for one's persecutors can include acting in nonviolent ways to free them from their acts of aggression, to liberate them from their role as oppressor. When oppression is so exposed that it brings only shame to the oppressors, the oppressors may reclaim their honor by turning away from their unjust activities, liberating both the oppressed and the oppressor, opening the path of reconciliation.

Friday, September 23, 2011 -- Week of Proper 20, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 984)
Psalms 88 (morning) 91, 92 (evening)
2 Kings 9:17-37
1 Corinthians 7:1-9
Matthew 6:7-15

"Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." (Mt. 6:10b)

From Robert J. Wicks, a clinical psychologist who teaches pastoral counseling:

For years I would read the Scriptures and quietly pray that I could be more obedient to God, more single-hearted. For years I would pray that I could be enthusiastic, rather than exhibitionistic, achievement-oriented rather than competitive. For years, being an impetuous person, I would pray that I wood not be swayed by people's reactions -- positive or negative -- or be a victim of my insecurities and needs to be liked, but only be concerned with doing God's will. And for years the sense I received in prayer was simply: "Just do my will; it is enough." And to this I would always reply in a very down-to-earth way: "It's easy for you to say! I just can't do it. It's not enough for me. I need a reward. If it's not people's good thoughts, if it's not the applause, if it's not my image, then I must have something.

Then one day, when I was praying for something else, I sensed a response not only to this request, but also finally to my original one as well. The impression I had was this: "You have asked that you not be concerned with your image or success but only with my will; your prayer will be answered now." To this I became anxious and was even sorry I had prayed for help at all. I was concerned that with the gift more would be asked of me. (My lack of faith and sinfulness continues to astound and almost overwhelm me.) Yet, this insecurity did not dispel the sense I had of God's presence. And the impression I had of the Lord's response continued clearly in the following manner: "If you seek to do my will and focus only on it and not your success or the way people respond, you will find you won't have to worry about whether or not you are accepted and loved by others. You shall have another reward that will make you secure -- in every lecture, in every therapy hour, in every encounter on the street, when you only concern yourself with doing my will and forget about the reactions or results, you will be in the Presence of the Spirit. . . . Is that enough?"

Monday, Septemeber 26, 2011 -- Week of Proper 21, Year One
Lancelot Andrews, Bishop of Winchester, 1626
Wilson Carlile, Priest, 1942

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 986)
Psalms 89:1-18 (morning) 89:19-52 (evening)
2 Kings 17:24-41
1 Corinthians 7:25-31
Matthew 6:25-34

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life... But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you as well." Matthew 6:25a, 33

These two familiar phrases bracket today's popular passage from the sermon on the mount. It strikes me that there are at least two ways to think about this passage. A traditional and comforting way of reading this passage is as an exhortation to relax and trust. That's a good message. We all do our best work and live most fruitfully when we are relaxed, optimistic, and open. Anxiety and worry only waste our energy.

But another way of thinking about this passage is to focus on the last verse first, connecting it with the Lord's Prayer we have been given earlier in this same chapter. Indeed, if the economic admonitions of the Lord's Prayer and the other parts of this sermon were actually practiced, the needs that we worry about -- "what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body what you will wear" -- such needs would be eliminated.

The Sermon on the Mount begins with a series of Beatitudes that showers blessing and happiness especially upon the poor, weak and humble. Such is the priority of the Kingdom of God that Jesus proclaims. Jesus invites us to be salt and light; to treat others justly, especially those of our closest relationships; to "give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you;" to "love your enemies;" to give alms humbly; to pray; to store up treasures not on earth but in heaven. Jesus is describing what the Kingdom of God looks like.

In the center of all that wisdom he teaches us to pray "Your kingdom come." In such a kingdom, God's will would be done; our bread for tomorrow would be given; we would forgive our debtors and be forgiven our debts. In a political and economic order like that -- a kingdom like that -- the basic needs of life would be protected. If in our kingdom here in the United States we were striving first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, all of these things would indeed be supplied to all.

Two phrases: "Do not worry... Strive first for the kingdom of God."

It is a good thing to let go of worry and anxiety. It only wastes our spirit.

It is also a good thing to practice the ethics and economics of the kingdom of God. Were we to do so, no one would have a realistic reason to worry about what we will eat or what we will wear. Such a kingdom (rule, government, authority, economic system, political practice, etc) would be our practice of God's reign. It is the central desire of Jesus for us. "Thy kingdom come."

How can I let go of worry and anxiety today?

How can I promote the values of the kingdom of God -- personally, economically, and politically?

Friday, September 30, 2011 -- Week of Proper 21, Year One
Jerome, Priest and Monk of Bethlehem, 420

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 984)
Psalms 102 (morning) 107:1-32 (evening)
2 Kings 19:1-20
1 Corinthians 9:16-27
Matthew 8:1-17

Today we have two of Matthew's stories about Jesus operating around and across the borders of Jewish society.

In the first story, Jesus encounters a man with leprosy. It is not unusual for a leper to ask healing from one who had a reputation for healing. The leper observes convention by approaching at a distance, kneeling before Jesus. But then, two surprising things happen.

First, Jesus chose to heal him. Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean. Jesus answers, I do choose. That was not the conventional choice. The dominant conviction was that diseases like leprosy were probably sent by God as a punishment, either for something the person had done, or possibly some sin or debt inherited from ancestors. To heal such a one would be to interfere with the judgment of God. Jesus chose to heal without regard for the worthiness or unworthiness of the sufferer. (Says something about the way we tend to offer our charity. Some are reluctant to give to those who may have some complicity in their own plight. Generosity toward those made homeless by a hurricane is easier to market than generosity toward those whose life choices have left them homeless.)

The second unusual detail is the phrase He stretched out his hand and touched him. That would have stunned all. There were health and religious reasons preventing Jesus from touching the man. Leprosy was a generic word referring to various kinds of skin diseases, but most were contagious. Many were spread by touch. To touch a leper would be to expose oneself to the disease. Moreover, a person with leprosy was also ritually unclean. To touch a leper would be to defile oneself religiously. One would be disqualified from entering worship without going through the prescribed rituals of purification. Nevertheless, Jesus touches the man, and he is made clean.

Then Jesus does something very conventional. He tells the man to go present himself to the priest with the appropriate gift for sacrifice. He tells him to follow the Biblical ritual laws by which a person once ill and unclean with leprosy may be certified to be well and clean, and thus reenter the worshiping community.

Today's second story is another encounter with the borders -- this time with a Gentile Roman officer. The Centurion is a man of power, commander of up to 100 soldiers. Yet the Centurion offers his powerlessness to Jesus, requesting the healing of his servant. When Jesus moves as if to approach the man's house, the Centurion stops Jesus. The officer knows -- to enter the house of a Gentile would defile Jesus in Jewish eyes. Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only speak the word, and my servant will be healed. It is a beautiful phrase of humble trust which has found its way into the prayer and piety of the church. Many Christians use that prayer just prior to their receiving communion. Jesus honors the faith of the officer and heals his servant. (In Matthew's gospel, Jesus never enters a Gentile's home. Mark and Luke have scenes at tables in the homes of non-Jews.)

These stories have reminded me of a story. When the AIDS epidemic was at its height, there was a church in Dallas that was particularly welcoming to gay men, including many who were HIV positive. It was not a large church. As I recall, the congregation lost over eighty of its members who died during the epidemic. The Rector noticed that some members who had traditionally sipped from the common cup began to practice intinction. He was bothered. It seemed to him to be an expression of fear and a compromise of their communion as one body. His wife also noticed. She then adopted the practice of waiting to receive her communion last, from the cup. Then, the priest performed the ablutions, not in the sacristy, but at the altar, publicly consuming the rest of the wine from the communion. It was their quiet testimony of faith and communal identity.

Where are our borders? Who are the unclean in our world? Where are our fears of communion? Who is hard to touch? Whose home would it be a scandal to enter? What would Jesus do?

Monday, October 10, 2011 -- Week of Proper 23, Year One
Vida Dutton Scudder, Educator and Witness for Peace, 1954

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 988)
Psalms 1, 2, 3 (morning) // 4, 7 (evening)
Jeremiah 36:11-26
1 Corinthians 13:(1-3)4-13
Matthew 10:5-15

As I read the opening two verses of Paul's "Love Chapter" this morning, some real people came to mind.

"If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal." There is a writer who contributes regular columns to our newspaper. He writes extraordinarily well. Beautiful prose -- almost poetic. Compelling references to literature, music and history. Deeply reasoned articles and passionate argument. But his loves are limited. He loves learning and sophistication. He loves being smarter than the other person. He loves being right and putting the other in the wrong. But he doesn't communicate love itself. He doesn't seem to love people, especially those whom Jesus showed such particular love to -- those who are below him. His columns read like a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

"And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing." If have a correspondent who is full of certainty, knowledge and a fierce faith. He knows that the scripture is literally true, and he scorns those who might read it with a less than a literal interpretation. He knows things so certainly -- climate change is a hoax; anyone who doesn't accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior is going to hell; Obama is a demon. His faith is rock solid. Absolute faith. He believes in God and in Jesus as the only way, the only truth, and the only life. All else is folly or demonic. Yet he seems to communicate little love. I'm sure there is love in his life (I only know him from his emails). I'm sure he is loved and loving of those within his personal circle. But he writes only of judgment and certainty, with an aggression that borders on the violent. He seems like nothing, except awful.

As I read Paul's next verse about heroic actions, no particular person came to mind. "If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing." Although I thought of no one in particular, I have known some who were involved in heroic and sacrificial activism, who yet seemed so bitter and angry that it compromised their good intentions.

Some other people then came to mind. Some modest people of modest accomplishment. One person who is not so bright, but oh, so good, so loving. Another who seems to have made little impact in the world other than within her small family, yet there is a such glowing peace around her that her presence seems to create a quiet sense of coherence. I thought of a person who says she wishes she could believe more -- her doubts about God, Jesus, and religious dogma trouble her -- yet she lives with such transparent love and remarkable generosity, that the presence of the Spirit glows from her being. She has a knack for smoothing rough edges and a gracious gift of hospitality.

The good life is not really about intelligence, certainty, or acclaim. It really is all about love. Paul's description in 1 Corinthians 13 is like a formula for authentic living. We want to be with people who are like this. Hopefully, we want to be like this: "Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."

This past Sunday's epistle reading offered a similar formula for the good life. Paul writes from jail to say, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:4-7)

Then he encourages us a bit more: "Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you." (Philippians 4:8-9)

Compelling teaching from Paul. Now... to actually live that way...

Tuesday, October 11, 2011 -- Week of Proper 23, Year One
Philip, Deacon and Evangelist

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 988)
Psalms 5, 6 (morning) // 10, 11 (evening)
Jeremiah 36:27 - 37:2
1 Corinthians 14:1-12
Matthew 10:16-23

How do we articulate God's Word in our time? How do we give our testimony? What is the prophet's message?

The evening psalm 10 closes this way:
God will hear the desire of the humble; *
you will strengthen their heart and your ears shall hear,
To give justice to the orphan and oppressed, *
so that mere mortals may strike terror no more.

That word finds resonance in me. It seems that for too long the interests of the wealthy and powerful have held sway in our nation. Maybe you've seen the graphs and statistics. For almost thirty years income and wealth has been flat or decreasing for most Americans even as workers' productivity has increased dramatically. Wealth and power has become concentrated in the hands of fewer and fewer people. Thanks to the reckless greed of financial manipulators, we now live with sustained unemployment in the worst economic downturn since the Depression, yet U.S. corporations have record levels of cash reserves. And PACS and Super-PACS allow even more money to influence the political process.

An inarticulate longing takes physical expression as a group moves to occupy the spaces of power. They sit in the public square and chant and invite the suits of Wall Street to sit down and talk with them. They try to give voice to the 99 percent in a country where the top one percent own 40% of the nation's wealth, 51% of the nation's stock, 5% of the nation's debt, and takes home 24% of the nation's income, dramatically increasing their share of that annual income during this decade. Protesters speak, but their message has not gelled.

All of today's readings in the Daily Office seem to reflect on the complexities of speaking God's Word prophetically.

Jeremiah and his scribe Baruch must dictate another scroll after the arrogant King Jehoiakim has burned the prophecy and threatened arrest. But the word of the prophet cannot be erased so easily by mere human power. Jeremiah continues to dictate to Baruch. The words are restored, and "many similar words were added to them." (Jer. 36:32) While the prophets live under duress, they live under God's eye and voice. And though the prophets may suffer, though the fulfillment may be delayed, God's Word will surely come to fruition.

Paul calls an inarticulate witness to prophetic articulation. "Pursue love and strive for the spiritual gifts, and especially that you may prophesy.... Now I would like all of you to speak in tongues, but even more to prophesy." I think of the "Occupy Wall Street" group and the various "Occupy" movements. A passion for justice and hope has energized them. They speak in many notes through various instruments. I find myself praying for "some revelation or knowledge or teaching" that will give the power of interpretation to their passion for justice.

In Matthew's gospel, Jesus speaks realistic words of encouragement to his little flock. He sends them "like sheep into the midst of wolves." The halls of power will resist their message of radical love. Yet Jesus promises that the Spirit will make them articulate. "When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you at that time."

I yearn for the prophet's message for our day, for the Spirit-filled testimony that speaks God's word. I do believe that God hears "the desire of the humble." I pray that God "will strengthen their heart and your ears shall hear." Let there be given "justice to the orphan and oppressed, so that mere mortals may strike terror no more." Ours is a day when we need the clarity of Jeremiah, the spirit of Paul, and the presence of Jesus to articulate the Word that will speak truth to power and bring justice and hope for the humble.

Friday, October 14, 2011 -- Week of Proper 23, Year One
Samuel Isaac Joseph Schereschewsky, Bishop of Shanghai, 1906

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 988)
Psalms 16, 17 (morning) // 22 (evening)
Jeremiah 38:14-28
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
Matthew 11:1-16

I want to think a bit about Samuel Isaac Joseph Schereschewsky who is commemorated today. His is an amazing story.

A native of Lithuania, he was studying for the rabbinate when he became interested in Christianity. He moved to the U.S., eventually graduating from my seminary, the General Theological Seminary in New York City. (1859) He responded to a call for missionaries to China and learned to write Chinese during the voyage on ship. (That's remarkable.) Starting in Peking, he translated the Bible and parts of the Prayer Book into Mandarin. In 1877 he became Bishop of Shanghai and began translating the Bible into Wenli. He founded St. John's University in Shanghai. (That school is a fascinating story as well. Look it up.)

In 1883, at the age of 52, he was stricken with paralysis. For most of the rest of his life he lived in Japan where he continued his translation work, typing some 2,000 pages with the middle finger of his partially crippled hand. He lived until 1906.

Four years before his death, he said this: "I have sat in this chair over twenty years. It seemed very hard at first. But God knew best. He kept me for the work for which I am best fitted."

That quote humbles and awes me.

Read more »

Monday, October 17, 2011 -- Week of Proper 24, Year One
Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch and Martyr, c. 115

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 988)
Psalms 25 (morning) // 9, 15 (evening)
Jeremiah 44:1-14
1 Corinthians 15:30-41
Matthew 11:16-24

Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! ...And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? No, you will be brought down to Hades. For if the deeds of power done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained to this day.

Sometimes I've wondered how I might have responded had I lived in Galilee during Jesus' ministry. Would I have paid attention to him and to his movement? Would I have listened and responded?

Had I been a fellow fisherman with Peter, James and John, I probably would have reacted to Jesus in a way that depended entirely of my opinion of his companions. Had the mercurial Peter and the "sons of thunder" ticked me off sometime in the past, I probably would have painted Jesus with their annoying, over-reactive brush. Had I been comfortable and settled, prosperous and blessed, I probably would have been suspicious of the potential for his movement to overturn the status quo. Had I been with the Roman occupiers or one of their Jewish collaborators, I would have judged Jesus from a guarded perspective, dependent upon my own sense of threat or stability.

Had I lived in Chorazin, thought to be a synagogue following the stricter teaching of Rabbi Shammai, I probably would have seen Jesus as a heretic and a threat to good religion. Had I lived in Capernaum, said to be allied to the milder teaching of Rabbi Hillel, I probably would have been more open to Jesus' message as it seemed compatible with what I would have grown up with.

I don't know whether I would have recognized and appreciated the opportunity to see him face to face, to know him personally, had I had the good fortune to live in one of the towns where he taught. I might have just been too busy to pay attention, too preoccupied with my own affairs. I might have been too embarrassed to risk association with one whose reputation was so mixed. I might have been too dull of spirit to recognize how this teacher was different. (I'm still haunted that I didn't hound my parents, like some of my friends did, to let me go to the Beatles concert in 1964. I didn't sense, as some of them did, what a big deal it was.)

Our context shapes so much of our character, opinions, vision, and potential. It limits and it opens possibilities to us.

The people of Tyre and Sidon did not have the same opportunities of those in Chorazin, Bethsaida and Capernaum -- to hear and respond to the ministry of Jesus. Jesus tells his Galilean neighbors that the foreigners would have responded more energetically.

Sometimes I wonder how much of my response to Jesus is cultural because I have been raised in an Episcopalian home, and how much is my own heartfelt and creative embrace of his being. I'm sure that if I were raised in Islamabad, I would be a Muslim today. I imagine I would be a Muslim there in something of the same manner that I am a Christian here.

I feel fortunate to have grown up in the environment that raised me. But I wonder what I haven't seen and known simply because of my own cultural blindness. I wonder if other people from other cultures, if given my opportunities, might do much more and be far more faithful than I have been.

I'm always bothered by proud expressions of American exceptionalism, phrases like "the United States is the greatest country in the world; America is Number 1." Yes, we have been given so much -- natural resources, the protection of two oceans, a heritage of liberty. But I wonder, if some other tribe or people had been given these gifts, might they have done better with them than we have? I know there are cultures where people take care of each other and mitigate suffering with a profound sense of communal obligation. I wonder if our ancestors had been from some of those cultures, would we be a more just and loving nation?

Elsewhere, in Luke, we hear Jesus say, "From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded." (Luke 12:48b)

Jesus says to his listeners, "Just because you're from Capernaum and enjoyed my synagogue teaching doesn't mean you're more virtuous than the ancient people of Sodom." That message has teeth for us too.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011 -- -- Week of Proper 24, Year One
Saint Luke the Evangelist

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Tuesday of Proper 24, p. 988
Psalms 26, 28 (morning) // 36, 39 (evening)
Lamentations 1:1-5(6-9)10-12
1 Corinthians 15:41-50
Matthew 11:25-30

OR the readings for St. Luke, p. 999
Morning Prayer: Psalms 103; Ezekiel 47:-12; Luke 1:1-14
Evening Prayer: Psalms 67, 96; Isaiah 52:7-10; Acts 1:1-8

(my reflection is from the gospel for Tuesday of Proper 24)

Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)

Most people I know are so hard on themselves. They expect so much from themselves, whether they are talking about their behavior or their performance, their morals or their work. So many people carry the burden of feeling unable to live up to expectations -- sometimes it is the burden of the expectations of others; sometimes self-imposed expectations. So many people live with the perpetual feeling that they are not measuring up.

Most people in our culture have more to do than they can do. The first time I went on an Ignatian retreat our leader gave us some scripture to read and a style of active, meditative prayer for reflection. But then he offered a caveat. Don't worry too much about trying to pray right away. Rest. Sleep a while. Most people in our culture are perpetually tired. Usually you need to sleep the better part of two days before you can really pray. So, he said, rest. The prayer will come later when you are refreshed.

How liberating it is to let go of burdens and just be. To rest.

A pivotal a moment in the Christian journey happens when we realize that we are loved and accepted completely, just as we are. That is a moment of conversion. Conversion happens when we quit trying to earn love and simply accept it.

The yoke of Christ is the gift of unqualified love. There is nothing we need do to earn it; there is nowhere we can go where there is more divine love than right here. There is no time when God will love us more than right now. Loving acceptance is the gift God gives. It is present and effective right now and always.

We can let go of expectations. We can let go of the frantic side of working so hard -- either to avoid bad things or to earn something. Christ's message is Love. God is love. God loves you. God loves us. Just as we are. Right here. Right now. Take it easy. Relax. Trust. Rest in love.

Postscript:
Here is one of the most famous paragraphs from a sermon in the 20th century. From Paul Tillich:

Do we know what it means to be struck by grace? It does not mean that we suddenly believe that God exists, or that Jesus is the Saviour, or that the Bible contains the truth. To believe that something is, is almost contrary to the meaning of grace. Furthermore, grace does not mean simply that we are making progress in our moral self-control, in our fight against special faults, and in our relationships to men and to society. Moral progress may be a fruit of grace; but it is not grace itself, and it can even prevent us from receiving grace. For there is too often a graceless acceptance of Christian doctrines and a graceless battle against the structures of evil in our personalities. Such a graceless relation to God may lead us by necessity either to arrogance or to despair. It would be better to refuse God and the Christ and the Bible than to accept them without grace. For if we accept without grace, we do so in the state of separation, and can only succeed in deepening the separation. We cannot transform our lives, unless we allow them to be transformed by that stroke of grace. It happens; or it does not happen. And certainly it does not happen if we try to force it upon ourselves, just as it shall not happen so long as we think, in our self-complacency, that we have no need of it. Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us when we feel that our separation is deeper than usual, because we have violated another life, a life which we loved, or from which we were estranged. It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes us when, year after year, the longed-for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage. Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: "You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted!" If that happens to us, we experience grace. After such an experience we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed. In that moment, grace conquers sin, and reconciliation bridges the gulf of estrangement. And nothing is demanded of this experience, no religious or moral or intellectual presupposition, nothing but acceptance. (Paul Tillich, from the sermon "You Are Accepted," in The Shaking of the Foundations, chapter 19)

Wednesday, October 19, 2011 -- Week of Proper 24, Year One
Henry Martyn, Priest, and Missionary to India and Persia, 1812
William Carey, Missionary to India, 1834

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, 988)
Psalms 38 (morning) // 119:25-48 (evening)
Lamentations 2:8-15
1 Corinthians 15:51-58
Matthew 12:1-14

Whenever the response to human need is in conflict with the law, even if it be a Biblical law, even if it is one of the Ten Commandments -- love always trumps law. The opportunity to do good, to extend mercy, to act with compassion, to relieve suffering, to love is paramount. Mere law, rule, commandment, scripture, or tradition must move aside in the face of the opportunity to act with compassion.

Today we read a story of Jesus' breaking one of the Ten Commandments. The religious authorities are furious. They believe that his action threatens and compromises the foundations of their faith and religion. The Sabbath was one of the most distinctive characteristics of Judaism. Just over a hundred years before Jesus, many faithful soldiers during the war of the Maccabeans preferred being killed rather than to defend themselves on the Sabbath and thus desecrate the holy days.

You might argue that Jesus didn't really break the fourth Commandment: "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." You might argue that he was merely reinterpreting the tradition in a more loving, inclusive and compassionate way. But don't say that to a traditionalist. Don't make that argument to a literalist. Jesus' act was liberal revisionism and a threat to the faith once delivered.

Jesus and his disciples were walking through the grainfields on the sabbath. That's pretty suspicious in the first place. There was a strict limit on the distance one could walk without violating the sabbath. The disciples were hungry, so they began to pick grain from the stalk and eat it. Absolutely forbidden. That is a form of harvesting. Not allowed on the day of rest. When the controversy is raised in the synagogue, Jesus asks them, "Is it lawful to cure on the sabbath?" It's a good question. He enters a centuries-long conversation among rabbis about what is lawful and what is unlawful on the sabbath.

During Jesus' life two competing schools of the Pharisees debated: "Man was made for the sabbath," said Rabbi Shammai. "The sabbath was made for man," claimed Rabbi Hillel. About a hundred years after Jesus, Rabbi Akiba would help establish a widely accepted criterion: "Every case of danger of life allows for the suspension of the Sabbath." So, the basic rule would become: Don't do things that can be done on the day before or on the day afterward; but, if danger of life exists -- a woman in childbirth; a terrible accident -- you may act without violating the sabbath rest. In the strict community of Qumran, even aiding an animal giving birth or an animal in an accident on the sabbath was outlawed.

It is clear that Jesus sided with the more liberal interpretation of Hillel. (Maybe that influenced his move from Nazareth to Capernaum. The synagogue at Nazareth was an ultra-conservative sect, not unlike today's Hasidim; the synagogue at Capernaum aligned itself with the school of Hillel.) But even progressive Judaism did not go as far as Jesus did in Matthew 12. After all, the disciples could have fasted a day rather than pick the grain. And Jesus could always heal a withered hand the day before or the day after. Neither of these was life threatening. They need not be done on the sabbath.

According to traditional teaching before and after Jesus, Jesus broke the 4th Commandment.

Paul recognizes the implications. We hear him today at the end of 1 Corinthians 15. Adam's sin introduced the necessity of the law as the measure of humanity's wrong. The law was created to guard and bind sinful humanity. And the price of sin is death. But the life, death and resurrection of Jesus breaks the deadly stranglehold of all three -- sin, death and the law.

In Jesus, the question changes entirely. It is no longer, "What does the Bible say? What is the commandment or law or statute?" The question is now, "What is the loving, compassionate, healing, hopeful, merciful opportunity before you? Do that." Christians are still figuring out how to live into his radical example.

Friday, October 21, 2011 -- Week of Proper 24, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 988)
Psalms 31 (morning) // 35 (evening)
Ezra 3:1-13
1 Corinthians 16:10-24
Matthew 12:22-32

There are holy places that seem to draw us toward the transcendent. There are places in nature that take us out of ourselves and help us become open to awe and beauty. I feel fortunate to live in the Ozarks which abounds with such locations. With the changing leaves and pleasant October weather, it is a perfect time to visit God's cathedral of creation.

Other holy places are made by hands in cooperation with the Spirit. There are certain rooms and buildings that elevate and silence us as we enter. That is something I feel when I enter my church. Many times I've walked inside our worship space to show it to someone unfamiliar with our life or tradition, and I've noticed their awareness. It is a special place. It inclines us toward the holy. Even visitors and strangers recognize it.

In Ezra we read of the laying of the foundations of the ruined Temple in Jerusalem. The priests have already restored the hours of prayer and worship in that holy place of prayer. Work has progressed to the point where once again there is a foundation upon which to build. Sixty years has passed since the Temple that Solomon built was destroyed. There is great rejoicing at this new beginning. There is also great mourning as those old enough to remember the grandeur of the former place contrast it with this modest beginning.

We don't have to have great buildings to worship and pray. The Jewish people discovered this during their exile. I've been with worshipping people in hotel rooms, auditoriums, homes and other locations where the Spirit of prayer and worship was authentic and wonderful.

But the great temples made by hands do seem to be sacraments of stone or wood. The ones that feel holy appear to have been constructed as an act of devotion and sacrifice. They are outward and visible signs of great love and offering to God. The extravagance of art and beauty that they so often evidence sings of a desire to give extravagant love back to God. That love continues to inspire for generations and sometimes, even centuries.

I am so thankful to our ancestors in our community, who in the 1870's, a time of post-war stress and depression, decided to build our place of worship, with wonderful cross beams and a high vertical ceiling. I wonder what the conversations were like for that Vestry. Did someone estimate the numbers and costs? How much might they have saved by lowering the ceiling, say ten feet? Somebody had to encourage some extravagance, some sacrifice to build it as it is. And now, 140 years later a stranger can walk in off the street and feel moved. Or any one of us can walk in and be drawn toward prayer that has been constant and present in this holy place for all of these generations.

The builders of the foundations of the Jerusalem Temple knew the significance of a holy place. Their story in Ezra and Nehemiah is a poignant one.
_____

P.S. Paul ends this letter to the Corinthians today with his hand-written postscript. He writes the Aramaic word "maranatha." Scholars believe it was an important word of faith for the early Church. The NRSV translates it "Our Lord, come!" which is the reading for marana tha. It can also be read "Our Lord has come!" -- maran atha. The ancient manuscripts do not have spaces to distinguish between those readings. That's worth thinking about.

Monday, October 24, 2011 -- Week of Proper 25, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 990)
Psalms 41, 52 (morning) // 44 (evening)
Zechariah 1:7-17
Revelation 4:1-11
Matthew 13:1-9

Because the parable of the sower has become so associated with the interpretation that follows in Matthew's Gospel, it can be hard to read it fresh, as a simple parable without the framing interpretation. But our lectionary gives us that opportunity today.

As I read Matthew 13:1-9, the frame that came into my mind had to do with my own use of time, and my sense of effectiveness and efficiency. I thought of the seeds as all the things that I do. I spend my day in various activities. Some of my time is in study and prayer. Some in writing, some e-mailing, some on the telephone. I visit with people, I have meetings, I work with my colleagues. I eat, I rest, and I have some fun. I take care of some chores, and I waste some time. All through the day, I spend the precious gift of time like a sower sowing seeds.

And what do I have to show for it? What sort of harvest is there?

Sometimes I know immediately. I have just wasted a bit of time. The rocky soil was obvious.

Sometimes a problem is solved simply and quickly. Where is the next weed to pick?

Usually it takes some time to know if a conversation or an email has made a difference. Often I'll never know. I just sow seeds and trust.

As one who preaches, I've recognized that I often can't predict how what I say will be received. I've had sermons that I thought were hum-dingers when I finished writing them, that seemed to bomb when I preached them. I've come to the pulpit with something anemic, and later been surprised to hear someone say it was just what they needed to hear. I've had someone tell me what they heard, and it was exactly the opposite of what I thought I said or what I intended to say. Sometimes I know I have good seed that will fall to good earth. That feels satisfying. But not for long. There is another service, another sermon due just around the corner.

I've become somewhat passive about how my words might be received. So much depends upon the circumstances of the hearer. I think I am a better word-farmer when I relax and sow, and leave whatever germination or growth that might happen entirely to God.

But I digress. I started this reflection thinking about time. If every moment is a seed, how am I planting?

I do want to spend as much time as I can sowing healthy seed into well prepared ground. But I don't want to be so compulsive that I have to be accomplishing something significant every moment.

There is something comforting about the example of the sower in the parable. The sower works with a relaxed extravagance, as if there is all the seed in the world. The sower is willing to throw the seed continuously, regardless of the context -- path, thorns, rocks and deep soil -- all gets covered.

So much of my context is given to me or comes to me during the day. I can make a plan to sow in one particular field that I regard as important and potentially fruitful, but getting there sometimes involves surprising detours. It is nice to relax and keep sowing. I never know when something will take root. What looks like a rocky wasteland to me may hide a perfect nesting place for a seed.

It is a Monday morning. Time to begin a new week. I'll look at the to-do list and set some priorities. But I don't want to be too attached to my plan that I'll fail to throw some seed when I find myself on an unexpected path in thorns and rocks. Relax and sow. Relax and sow. No telling what might grow.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011 -- Week of Proper 25, Year One
Alfred the Great, King of the West Saxons, 899

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 990)
Psalms 119:49-72 (morning) // 49, [53] (evening)
Ezra 6:1–22
Revelation 5:1-10
Matthew 13:10-17

We all have blind spots. But if you can't see, how do you know what you are missing? How do you know what your own blind spots may be? We need friends who see differently from us to help us fill in what we are missing. We need to read things that are written by people who have a different perspective, or a conflicting perspective from ours. Whenever we can see through another's eyes, we expand our field of vision.

Sometimes understanding another perspective is a corrective. I learn something, and I change. Sometimes it is only a tweak or a refinement of understanding. Sometimes it is repentance. I turn and go the other direction.

Sometimes understanding another perspective is confirming. I can see their underlying values and motivation; I can follow the logic of their thought; I can feel the satisfaction that their position gives to them. And I still disagree.

Because I write a lot and let that writing goes out into some fairly public venues, I am fortunate to be on the receiving end of some good "eye doctors." There are those who see my blind spots and offer an expanded vision. What a gift.

Every once in a while, someone writes who is certain that I'm mostly blind. Sometimes those emails are just too toxic to invite dialogue. But sometimes they are an invitation as well as a challenge. I can reply in order to seek more clarity even as I offer to be more clear.

There is an insight from F. D. Maurice (d. 1872) that is helpful during conversations between two of us who are half-blind: "A man is most often right in what he affirms and wrong in what he denies." If we can get past whatever it is we are denying about each other's views and move into the the territory where we each state our values, I often find that we move much closer to one another. Sometimes I find that I have very similar values as one who seemed to be an opponent, we just come up with different strategies for accomplishing similar ends. That realization can calm some of the rhetoric.

Occasionally I will run across someone whose values and world-view simply seems contrary to that which I hold dear. We could talk or email until we turn blue, and we will still be at cross purposes. If we have a relationship, I find it is not to difficult to arrive at a place where we can agree to disagree. Actually, that can be a lot of fun. Now I know where to go when I'm perplexed. When I run across something that makes no sense to me, I can ask a friend who experiences life from a different paradigm, and that friend usually has seen something that I was blind to. I still may think that it makes no sense, but at least I can understand where they are coming from.

And every once in a while I engage in communication with someone, usually by email, when I become convinced that we are in a win/lose situation. If that person is right, and their opinion prevails, I am convinced that the world will be damaged. We've talked, and there is no prospect for compromise or reconciliation. Our values and our vision are fundamentally in conflict. I thought about those situations when I read in today's gospel Isaiah's prophecy that we hear in Jesus' voice through Matthew: "You will indeed listen, but never understand, and you will indeed look, but never perceive. For this people's heart has grown dull, and their ears are hard of hearing, and they have shut their eyes; so that they might not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and understand with their heart and turn -- and I would heal them," says the prophet. Sometimes I have to go a step beyond agreeing to disagree. I have to say that they are wrong, and I must oppose them actively. Insofar as I can, I have to exercise whatever influence I may have to put boundaries around the damage that they might inflict. Even so, friendship, if it is present, can be sustained.

There are times when it is important to win and for another alternative to be defeated. I think it is important to recognize that territory. Yet, whenever I find myself there, I also have to accept that I continue to be near-sighted and occasionally downright blind. I have to be willing to be corrected. And, as Maurice reminds us, I'm most constructive when I am framing my vision in terms of values and affirmations rather than what I'm against.

Friday, October 28, 2011 -- Week of Proper 25, Year One
Saint Simon and Saint Jude, Apostles

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Friday of Proper 25, p. 990
Psalms 40, 54 (morning) // 51 (evening)
Nehemiah 2:1-20
Revelation 6:12 – 7:4
Matthew 13:24-30

OR the readings for SS. Simon & Jude, p. 1000
Morning Prayer: Psalm 66; Isaiah 28:9-16; Ephesians 4:1-16
Evening Prayer: Psalms 116, 117; Isaiah 4:2-6; John 14:15-31

I used the readings for Friday of Proper 25

All of the readings today include some expression of judgment between "God's people" and the "others." The readings address these issues in very different ways, however.

Nehemiah tells of his commission from the Persian King Ataxerxes to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. He is sent in 445 BCE, about thirteen years after Ezra's mission. The wider context concerns the contemporary conflict between Persia and Egypt. A fortified Jerusalem could provide a military base for Persia. Ataxerxes sends soldiers with Nehemiah to underline his strategic intent.

There is a second aspect of Persian policy that is important. The Persian Empire controlled its occupied regions by controlling access to the land. The Empire exercised absolute control of land, thereby exercising their control of agriculture and decreasing ethnic conflicts. Persian strategy mandated a strict tribal autonomy over traditional land. Persia maintained that authority by creating strong boundaries between neighboring tribes. Intermarriage was forbidden because it tended to blur property rights. Persia encouraged each occupied region to maintain their traditional worship and to include prayers for the Persian King and Empire in their liturgies. The ties of worship also helped maintain tribal unity and purity, strengthening the attachments between people and land. It is Nehemiah's charge to carry out this Persian policy in Jerusalem. He seeks to completely separate the Jews from their regional neighbors.

Nehemiah will face opposition. Neighboring tribes will be jealous of the refortification because this imperial preference will bring new money and prestige to Jerusalem, supposedly at the neighbors' expense. Also, many of the Jews who had lived in Judah during the exile, and some who had returned, were married to members of the neighboring tribes. They had deep family relationships with their neighbors, some covering several generations. Nehemiah's plan for ethnic cleansing will rip those families apart. The building of the wall is a symbol and instrument of this plan of cultural separation. It will be controversial. It will create an enduring enmity between Jews and Samaritans.

The book of Ruth was written as protest literature against this separatist tradition. The hero Ruth is a faithful Moabite, married to a Hebrew. She becomes an ancestor of David. In later years, Jesus will reach past the resentments of centuries of history to offer living water to a Samaritan woman and to make a Samaritan man his eternal image of the meaning of being a neighbor.

In the book of Revelation, the opening of the sixth seal imagines the consequences of human destructiveness and the justice of God. Although no act of judgment is actually portrayed, we see the anxiety of the judged. Their fear is contrasted with the sealing of the foreheads of God's people. The forehead is a symbol of human will and worship. The symbolic number 144,000 is built on the number 12 (God's people) and the number 10 (all). All of God's people are gathered from the four corners of the earth. The vision culminates in tomorrow's reading when an innumerable multitude from "every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages" will appear before the Lamb, joyfully joining the song of heaven. It is a remarkably inclusive image.

In Matthew's gospel the church is told to leave judgment to God. In our world and in the church, good and evil exist together, the good seed and the weeds grow together. If we were to try to uproot the weeds, we would inevitably damage or even uproot some of the good plants. "Let both of them grow together until the harvest," Jesus says. Some have cited this passage to oppose warfare, for in every war the number of civilian casualties is greater than military causalities.

These readings have echoes today. Modern Israel has built a wall that not only separates Jewish territory from Palestinian, but also breaks off access between Palestine territories. The Wall is deeply offensive to Palestinians, and it impedes them from their relatives and confines them from the world in ways that damage their economy, their relationships and their dignity, not unlike the Soviet Iron Curtain. In the U.S., some Americans have called for a wall between our country and Mexico. American anti-immigration sentiment has a flavor of ethic cleansing to it.

So many international conflicts are energized by tribal and ethnic resentments.

The New Testament readings offer realistic images about the damage that human division, oppression and violence brings. The readings also offer a more non-violent, non-divisive solution, and an image of healing -- tolerance and inclusion, grounded in a vision of union.

Let the wheat and weeds grow together. Let God sort out the good and evil. We are not wise enough to separate justly. Let our imaginations be filled by the image of God's final resolution in the scene tomorrow from Revelation. There we see people from every human family in a remarkably inclusive vision of universal reconciliation.

Monday, October 31, 2011 -- Week of Proper 26, Year One
Paul Shinji Sasaki, Bishop of Mid-Japan, and of Tokyo, 1946
Philip Lindel Tsen, Bishop of Honan, China, 1954

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 990)
Psalms 56, 56, [58] (morning) // 64, 65 (evening)
Nehemiah 6:1-19
Revelation 10:1-11
Matthew 13:36-43

So I went to the angel and told him to give me the little scroll; and he said to me, "Take it, and eat; it will be bitter to your stomach, but sweet as honey in your mouth." So I took the little scroll from the hand of the angel and ate it; it was sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it, my stomach was made bitter. Revelation 10:9-10

The little scroll that John the Divine consumes contains another prophecy that John is to deliver. He will soon be speaking of coming conflicts and woes.

But as I read the description of the scroll, I was reminded of the characteristics of my temptations and addictions. So many things that bring us troubles appear attractive and may be "sweet as honey in [the] mouth," but they produce a deeper bitterness in the pit of our being. Our addictive behaviors and patterns then become the venue for much of the conflict and woe in our lives.

In his seminal little book Addiction and Grace, the late Gerald May offers a theological and neurological map of addiction:

I am not being flippant when I say that all of us suffer from addiction. Nor am I reducing the meaning of addiction. I mean in all truth that the psychological, neurological, and spiritual dynamics of full-fledged addiction are actively at work within every human being. The same processes that are responsible for addiction to alcohol and narcotics are also responsible for addiction to ideas, work, relationships, power, moods, fantasies, and an endless variety of other things. We are all addicts in every sense of the word. Moreover, our addictions are our own worst enemies. They enslave us with chains that are of our own making and yet that, paradoxically, are virtually beyond our control. Addiction also makes idolators of us all, because it forces us to worship these objects of attachment, thereby preventing us from truly, freely loving God and one another. (Gerald May, Addiction and Grace, HarperOne, 1991, p. 3-4)

May dissects the way we all become attached to our addictions, which always begin as apparently good things, as attractions -- sweet as honey in the mouth. But we become habituated to the sweetness, and our tolerance grows, so that we need more and more in order to continue to match our stimulation. Below our intention and will, our neurological system is creating super-highways of stimulation and desire for more of what does not ultimately satisfy -- our stomach becomes truly bitter.

While reading May's book many years ago, I took a little card and began listing some of my own addictions -- some of the things that I believe I need profoundly, yet they seem to limit my equanimity and freedom. I ran out of room on the little card when I had listed well over twenty addictions. That tasted bitter indeed in my stomach.

Gerald May goes on to explain that the power of our addictions lies at such a primitive place in our neurological system, that they are literally below our will, outside of the range of our intentional control. Addictions never sleep.

Our hope is grounded in grace. God's freely outpouring love liberates and frees us to receive the goodness that is sweeter than the desire of our addictions. We can open ourselves to grace, which seems to me much more a movement of surrender than of grasping. God's grace like God's being is a mystery, blowing where it will. Usually we find our experience of grace enhanced in community. The love and support of community can help us to let go of attachment and become open to grace. It is unqualified, absolute, divine love that truly satisfies our deepest desires and longings.

I find that my movement away from addiction and toward grace is less of a struggle, and more like a gentle, inward turning. There is the effort of discipline, to turn, but it is more accomplished in letting go, relaxing, surrendering into the love that is more dependable and fulfilling than my hungers and needs. From a place of deep, divine acceptance, love flows, creating hope that translates into freedom. Gently. Moment by moment.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011 -- Week of Proper 26, Year One
All Faithful Departed

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 990)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) // 68:1-20 (21-23) 24-36 (evening)
Nehemiah 12:27-31a, 42b-47
Revelation 11:1-19
Matthew 13:44-52

Today is the day when the church remembers all of those who have died in the hope of Christ's resurrection. The Prayer Book names it the "Commemoration of All Faithful Departed." Many call it "All Souls Day." In Mexico and other Latin American cultures, they celebrate the "Day of the Dead." Families and friends visit the cemeteries to talk to the souls of the departed, to tell stories and to decorate the tombs. It is a day to remember our ancestors and loved ones.

I've never speculated much on what happens to us after we die. My own experience of God in this life is so profoundly an experience of transcending love, that I am fine with whatever God wants, including nothing instead of something. When I have been close to nothing, when my sense of self has dissolved in contemplative prayer, the peace that remains when self-consciousness returns is so exquisite that it seems to me there is nothing to fear in the nothing. The nothing becomes the all.

We inherit complex traditions about the afterlife. For most of the Biblical period there was no tradition of resurrection and heaven. You can pick through scripture and find passages that speak of judgment and hell. You can pick through scripture and find confident expressions of universal eternal salvation. It seems to me that what people believe about life after death says more about them than it does about God.

I know how much I love my friends and family. Especially those who have seemed in some sense lost. If I in my fallen, selfish self can want eternal bliss for them, how much more expansive and healing is God's love for them. I find it hard to imagine that God would lose anything that has an inkling of the good, and everyone has experienced some inkling of the good. In the light of God's overwhelming love, all of our faults seem simultaneously exposed and healed -- judgment and redemption.

Frederick Buechner seems to pick up a similar notion in his entry about Judas in his little "Biblical Who's Who":

There is a tradition in the early church, however, that [Judas'] suicide was based not on despair but on hope. If God was just, then he knew there was no question where he would be heading as soon as he had breathed his last. Furthermore, if God was also merciful, he knew there was no question either that in a last-ditch effort to save the souls of the damned as God's son, Jesus would be down there too. Thus the way Judas figured it, Hell might be the last chance he'd have of making it to Heaven, so to get there as soon as possible, he tied the rope around his neck and kicked away the stool. Who knows?

In any case, it's a scene to conjure with. Once again they met in the shadows, the two old friends, both of them a little worse for wear after all that happened, only this time it was Jesus who was the one to give the kiss, and this time it wasn't the kiss of death that was given.
(Peculiar Treasures, HarperOne, 1993, p. 93)

Friday, November 4, 2011 -- Week of Proper 26, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 990)
Psalms 69:1-23(24-30)31-38 (morning) // 73 (evening)
Ezra 7:27-28; 8:21-36
Revelation 15:1-8
Matthew 14:13-36

Jesus is heartsick. He is grieving. Word has come to him of his cousin John's execution. His lifelong friend and colleague was beheaded in prison. The wanton, capriciousness of the act adds outrage to it all. Herod had John struck down at the behest of a little girl after an exaggerated complement for her dancing for Herod's guests. Jesus can feel the shadow of threat that extends toward him and threatens to darken his mission.

When Jesus hears of John's death, he goes away to a deserted place for a while. He needs to think. He needs to hurt. He needs some time.

But some of the crowd that followed him figured it out. They knew the place, and they beat him to it. By the time his little boat had reached the shore near the deserted place, it was not deserted at all. A great crowd had arrived. They want him. They want to use him to heal them They want him to help them. But how drained he must feel.

Then comes one of the most remarkable words in scripture. As Jesus comes ashore, he sees the crowd and knows that they block his access to a quiet place for his grief. The scripture records his reaction: "and he had compassion for them." Amazing.

Then Jesus returned to work, "and cured their sick."

To react with compassion when your own energy and defenses are at their lowest doesn't happen in a vacuum. You must be filled with compassion in order to be compassionate when you are drained.

Recently I listened to an interview by Krita Tippett with Matthieu Ricard, a French Tibetan monk who has been called "The Happiest Man in the World." He spoke of the necessity of exercising and cultivating compassion if we are to grow in compassion. He offered several analogies. Many people will exercise twenty minutes a day to take care of their bodies, but neglect the twenty minutes of exercise that helps strengthen the mind. A musician cannot learn to master a musical instrument without spending time in practice. But with regular practice, we can learn; we become stronger, more competent. It is the same for compassion or for mental focus. If we will spend time nourishing and practicing compassionate thoughts, our capacity for compassion will grow.

What would it take for my compassion to grow adequately that I might follow Jesus' example? Jesus invites me to be so compassionate that I would be able to react with gentle care even when I am drained and grieving. That will take considerable practice and growth. It will also take some trust, some grounding in Jesus.

Jesus, I can't be that compassionate. I need your help. Be compassionate for me and in me. Let your compassion, which is boundless, be in me and flow through me. I wonder if I could ever practice enough to be so compassionate myself. But your compassion is enough, Jesus. Right now. I can trust your strength, especially when I have so little of my own.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011 -- Week of Proper 27, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 992)
Psalms 78:1-39 (morning) // 78:40-72 (evening)
Nehemiah 9:26-38
Revelation 18:9-20
Matthew 15:29-39

The Liberation Theology movement that began in the 20th century articulates a vision of God's activity on behalf of those who are oppressed. "God's preferential option for the poor" is one of the phrases that liberation scholars have used to describe a consistent theme in scripture. We see that in spades in the vision from Revelation today.

"Rejoice over her, O heaven, you saints and apostles and prophets!" cries the seer observing the judgment given against "Babylon, the mighty city!" "Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great!"

Babylon is a complicated symbol in John's apocalypse. But her primary sin and abomination is pretty obvious -- it is her great wealth and power, the seduction of her luxury and glamour. It is a judgment against luxury. "The fruit for which your soul longed has gone from you, and all your dainties and your splendor are lost to you, never to be found again."

The wealthy merchants weep for the city "clothed in fine linen, in purple and scarlet, adorned with gold, with jewels, and with pearls." The wealthy merchants cry because "no one buys their cargo anymore." The lists of merchandise go on and on with great specificity -- "all kinds of scented wood, all articles of ivory, all articles of costly wood, bronze, iron and marble, cinnamon, spice, incense, myrrh, frankincense, wine, olive oil, choice flour and wheat, cattle and sheep, horses and chariots, and human bodies and souls."

It doesn't take much imagination to see American commerce described. These are the things we advertise and trade in, including human bodies and souls. These luxuries are the things we love. This vision from Revelation thrills at their destruction. I am reminded of the fall of the World Trade Center. There are communities in the world who, like John, see our wealth and power and luxury as corrupting. They see the power of multinational commerce as "the beast." Those communities saw the fall of the towers and rejoiced the same way that John celebrates the fall of Babylon.

But I am a person of Babylon. I live in luxury and great comfort. I am drawn to the "dainties" that John so decries. I am wealthy and powerful, and I live in the wealthiest and most powerful nation in human history.

My friend Jay McDainel of Hendrix College has written extensively that the competing religion of our age is the religion of consumerism. Though he has written and spoken so compellingly about the idolatry of consumerism, he says of himself that he is still not released from its grip. I too am thoroughly enmeshed in Babylon. How to let go?

We shift scenes. In the gospel today a Cannanite woman approaches Jesus for help. "Send her away, for she keeps shouting at us," say the disciples. She is annoying, inconvenient. She is not one of us; she is a foreigner. Yet, she only asks for crumbs. "Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table," she begs. Jesus sees her faith, and gives her her wish. The next thing he does is to go to a crowd of foreigners, and he feeds their multitudes out of compassion.

How can we embrace the compassionate generosity of Jesus and disengage from our enthrallment with Babylon?

Wednesday, November 9, 2011 -- Week of Proper 27, Year One

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 992)
Psalms 119:97-120 (morning) // 81, 82 (evening)
Nehemiah 7:73b - 8:3, 5-18
Revelation 18:21-24
Matthew 15:29-39

There is something moving about the account we read today from Nehemiah. The community has been on a journey of rebuilding -- rebuilding the walls of the city as well as the corporate structures and the identity of their nation recovering from exile. The people gather together in an assembly to hear the reading of the ancient law. They hear sacred words from their tradition. It has been such a long time since these words have been pondered that the community has lost some of its corporate memory. The people weep, because they realize that they had lost so much of their identity.

In the reading they rediscover a holy festival and reinstate its observance. The people celebrate the Festival of Booths for the first time in living memory. They rejoice as they reclaim a part of themselves that they didn't know they had.

Last night I taught an Inquirers Class. I spoke about the dynamic way time and space opens in the celebration of the Eucharist, the Lord's Supper. I talked about how we experience the past becoming actively present in the Eucharist. "Anamnesis" is a way of remembering so that a past event becomes present to us now. Through active anamnesis we participate in the Last Supper today. I talked about our anticipation of the heavenly banquet where all things are to be gathered together into the eternal life of God. The future blessing becomes present now. When we celebrate the Eucharist, we enter a thin place where past and future merge into the present moment.

One of the participants in the class was deeply moved. He has been a Christian for a long time, though he is new to our church. "I've never heard of that before," he said. Then he spoke about how meaningful that tradition seemed to him. It seemed so much more than merely thinking of communion as a memorial of something that had happened long ago and was now over. Last night he reclaimed something ancient, and his worship will be deeper.

I remember when I was taught the ancient tradition of Centering Prayer, based on the 14th century teaching from "The Cloud of Unknowing." This practice of opening to the possibility of contemplation was unknown to me, though I was an adult who had been brought up in the church. When this tradition was "recovered" for me, it became a portal for my own life and renewal.

I grew up in the days of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer. I can remember some of the process of liturgical renewal that accompanied the composition of the 1979 BCP. One of its treasures is the recovery of the Great Vigil of Easter. The church where I was raised had never celebrated that great liturgy. Thanks to our reclaiming something from our tradition, the Vigil has become my favorite worship service of the year. Our church has reclaimed a part of its lost tradition.

It can be a wonderful moment when we reclaim something from our ancient identity, like finding a valuable treasure that we didn't know we already owned.

I wonder what other ancient things of our tradition remain for us to discover, to uncover or to reclaim.

For a while I've wondered what it might mean for us to reclaim the ancient tradition of the Year of Jubilee (Leviticus 25f). In the year of Jubilee all debts were canceled, all bondage released, and there was a redistribution of the land to its original equal endowments. In our nation, where one percent of our people owns over one-third of our wealth, where the top 20% claim 85%, and where the lower 40% only have 0.3% of our corporate wealth, what might some form of a Year of Jubilee mean for us?

What other treasures lie hidden below our corporate remembrance? What parts of our inheritance have we forgotten? What ancient wisdom waits for our rediscovery? What more is there for us to claim? ...for us to learn?

Friday, November 11, 2011 -- Week of Proper 27, Year One
Martin, Bishop of Tours, 397

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 992)
Psalms 88 (morning) // 91, 92 (evening)
1 Maccabees 1:41-63* *found in the Apocrypha
Revelation 19:11-16
Matthew 16:13-20

There are moments of intuition. Occasionally in an instant, things become clear. Sometimes we see profound, complex things that have perplexed us, and suddenly it all seems so simple. Insight happens.

As I read again the story of Peter's confession -- "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God" -- I can imagine him speaking in a tone of voice and with facial gestures conveying that even he is surprised by his own words. Where did this insight come from? "Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you..."

Years ago our local radio station broadcast a winsome little program by Earl Nightingale, a motivational speaker. It only lasted a minute or so, but Nightingale tried to offer listeners a nugget of his brand of wisdom or encouragement. One story that has stuck with me concerned a chemical engineer who was trying to solve a complex problem about the molecular structure of a particular substance. He had spent hours in the laboratory. He had wasted much paper trying various sketches and equations.

One day at home, as the scientist was watching something distracting on television, his mind in neutral, the answer to his research just appeared to him like a 3D vision in mid-air, between his lounge chair and the television screen. He saw the structure of the substance in its entirety, and it made complete sense. He could even ask the vision to turn around so he could see it from all angles. The answer was given to him.

Of course there had been hours of preparation that set the foundation for his discovery of a moment. But isn't that often how these things happen? We dig and struggle and persevere, sometimes with great futility, then, in an instant something is revealed.

In the back of my mind there is a story about Einstein's discovery of relativity coming in a flash of insight from a mind game he was pondering. Many of us treasure Thomas Merton's Louisville epiphany on the corner of 4th and Walnut where he "suddenly realized that I loved all the people and that none of them were, or, could be totally alien to me. As if waking from a dream -- the dream of separateness." (Private Journal, March 19, 1958) Gerald May tells the story of an addict who found equanimity and freedom in a moment while walking his dog.

Today is St. Martin's day. Legend has it that while Martin was a Roman soldier and a catechumen, a beggar approached asking alms. Martin impulsively drew his sword and cut off a portion of his soldier's cloak and gave it to the poor man. That night in a dream, Jesus appeared, clothed in half a cloak, and said, "Martin, a simple catechumen, covered me with this garment."

These moments happen to us. They are full of grace. They also seem ephemeral and fleeting. Though we may be changed, we must claim the change. It helps to write things down, like Merton's journal. It helps to tell another, like Peter's witness to Jesus. We can forget. We can also, like Mary, treasure these things, and ponder them in our hearts.

Monday, November 14, 2011 -- Week of Proper 28, Year One
Samuel Seabury, First American Bishop, 1796

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 992)
Psalms 89:1-18 (morning) // 89:19-52 (evening)
1 Maccabees 3:1-24* *found in the Apocrypha
Revelation 20:7-15
Matthew 17:1-13

We are confronted with war in the first two readings today. Then we encounter a vision of reality transfigured in the third reading. I needed the latter reading.

For our first scripture, we're reading 1 Maccabees about the successful military revolt led by Judas Maccabees following the attempt by Syrian king Antiochus to suppress Jewish worship in 167 BCE. The rebellion created a century of Jewish independence, which was ended with the Roman conquest of 63 BCE.

Although it is a stirring story of courage and victory, the rabbis did not include the book of Maccabees in the canon of Hebrew scripture, very possibly because of its unqualified embrace of violence and nationalism. When later zealots used the Maccabeean tactics against Rome, the results were catastrophic.

Today's passage tells of the beginning of Judas Maccabeus' campaigns. First he forcibly required Jews to a faithful observance of the Jewish law. Any boys or men who had not been circumcised were circumcised, some against their will.

A reforming movement in the Judaism of the time had embraced many Greek characteristics. Among many Jews, particularly those who regarded themselves as cosmopolitan, it became fashionable to omit or reverse circumcision so that they could more freely participate in the exercise and education of the gymnasium. Many of these will become enemies of the Maccabean rule, and its Jewish victims.

Judas Maccabeus, although outnumbered, is successful in two military campaigns.

In Revelation we read of the postmillenial battle against Satan and of the judgment of the dead. There are times when I seem to have energy to work with this material. Today, it just seems intractable. It does strike me, though, that for all of its violent and warlike imagery, there is no portrayal of battle in Revelation. And the sword of the lamb is the Word that comes forth from the mouth of the victorious one. Triumph by word of mouth, not by violence.

Matthew's account of the transfiguration is like a drink of fresh water today. The transfiguration also occurs under the shadow of violence. The trauma of John the Baptist's execution is very present with Jesus and his disciples -- "I tell you that Elijah has already come, and the did not recognize him, but they did to him whatever they pleased. So also the Son of Man is about to suffer at their hands." These are the words that follow the vision of the transfigured Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah.

This wondrous vision of transfiguration transcends the violence and death that is so present to us. Beyond the cross of Jesus and the beheading of John there is the insistence that the deeper reality is the dazzling vision of transfiguration.

Only if we have eyes to see beyond the surface and its violence, and look into the transfigured vision, can we trust so completely like Jesus so as to be more willing to suffer violence than to resort to it.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011 -- Week of Proper 28, Year One
Francis Asbury and George Whitefield, Evangelists, 1816, 1770

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 992)
Psalms 97, 99, [100] (morning) // 94, [95] (evening)
1 Maccabees 3:25-41* *found in the Apocrypha
Revelation 2:1-8
Matthew 17:14-21

See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.
(Revelation 3b-4)

As we near the end of the Revelation of John, we see a vision of the union of heaven and earth in a new creation. God gives to the thirsty water from the spring of the water of life. The effect of God's presence is justice, healing and peace.

We read of a similar vision from the psalms. Psalm 97 declares that the foundations of God's reign are righteousness and justice. God upholds the truehearted and delivers the saints from those who do wrong. Psalm 99 praises God directly, saying, "O mighty Ruler, lover of justice, you have established equity; you have executed justice and righteousness in Jacob."

Justice is at the heart of the vision of God's reign. God is love. Justice is the social form of love.

The opposite of justice is human injustice. It is human injustice that brings the oppression and tears that need divine healing and peace. There is something fundamentally egalitarian about justice. Justice and equity are deeply related. When justice reigns, righteousness is upheld and human injustice is inhibited.

Those who would live in right relationship with God, which is what righteousness means, are those who uphold God's values, those who strive alongside God for God's purposes. God promises ultimate vindication of the righteous.

Equity, peace, healing, and justice -- these are the cornerstones of righteousness. Inequality, violence, discord, and injustice -- these are the fruits of unrighteousness. Insofar as our power is exercised in ways consistent with the values of God, we are participating in God's reign. But scripture promises that God's judgment reaches out to frustrate the false ways of pride, greed, oppression and violence.

These Biblical words have social, economic and political consequences. Unjust political, economic and social systems create systemic injustice and human suffering. From the time of Moses, God has called us to oppose systemic injustice and to work to create systemic justice. The prophets of every age speak truth to power and call us to a high calling on behalf of God's justice.

From the Biblical perspective, the focus of justice is always on the poor. If you want to know what God wants, ask from the perspective of the poor. "Forgive us our debts" and "give us today our daily bread" are petitions from the poor.

Our political and economic system in this nation tends to be structured from the perspective of the wealthy. Here's a simple example In our state, it is not a criminal act if an employer withholds payment from a worker. But if that same worker, denied a paycheck, writes a hot check to buy groceries for his family, that's a crime. Stealing labor from a worker is a regulatory offense that rarely is prosecuted and results in a slap on the wrist. A hot check provokes quick police action, and not infrequently, jail. That's a system structured to favor the wealthy, those who can afford to employ others.

Equity and justice. The social form of love. Viewed from the perspective of the poor. "Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." These are the things we talk about every day in our headlines. Will health care be available to all? Will everyone have the material essentials of life? Will our systems defend the poor or simply be manipulated by the most powerful and wealthy?

Christians have a vision of God's reign. We are to live by the values of that vision now. God's judgment will be based on those values. Will we be on the side of righteousness or on the side of injustice?

Wednesday, November 16, 2011 -- Week of Proper 28, Year One
Margaret, Queen of Scotland, 1093

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 992)
Psalms (morning) 101, 109:1-4 (5-19) 20-30 // 119:121-144 (evening)
1 Maccabees 3:42-60* *found in the Apocrypha
Revelation 2:9-21
Matthew 17:22-27

In the scene that Matthew gives us, the collectors of the temple tax ask Peter whether Jesus' followers pay the temple tax. "Yes, he does," answers Peter. It was an answer that would please Roman authorities when they might be suspicious of the new Christian movement.

There is a second conversation about the ultimate freedom that those who are royal children enjoy. The implication seems to be that Jesus' followers, as children of God, are completely free and liberated from obligations to lesser authorities.

In Matthew's sequence, by his next action Jesus seeks to keep the peace. Jesus has Peter catch a fish that will have the coin for the temple tax in its mouth. Peter is to pay the tax so that they would not give offense to the authorities.

The story is not unlike the question elsewhere in the Gospel whether it is right to pay taxes to Caesar or not. Jesus anwered, "Whose image is on the coin?" Every Roman coin bears Caesar's image. The wonderfully ambiguous answer: "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, but give to God what is God." Every listener would know that all things come from God -- the earth is the Lord's and all that is in it.

Such answers intend to maintain the ultimate freedom that is ours as God's children and affirm the absolute claim that God has on us and on all creation. At the same time, they are also practical answers that protected the early church from persecution as enemies of the state.

There have been Christians who have protested the payment of taxes on religious and ethical grounds. Some were jailed during the Vietnam War era when they withheld a percentage of their tax that represented their share for the financing of what they believed was an immoral war. Acts of civil disobedience have generally included a willingness to suffer the consequences of such disobedience.

The early church walked a fine line between its declaration of challenge to the Roman Empire -- the fundamental creed "Jesus is Lord" defies the claim that "Caesar is Lord" -- and the church's wish to avoid active persecution. From Matthew's perspective, paying the hated tax to the Jupiter temple was not a place to draw a line.

Where is that line? For the most part, I am glad to pay taxes because our taxes support so many of the services that are basic to a healthy society. I am blessed to be in a high tax bracket because my wife and I both have jobs that pay us well. We certainly could afford to pay more taxes, and would happily do so if it would relieve the suffering for those who do not enjoy the security that we do. I prayerfully hope our nation is on the way toward providing a public way of insuring health care for all people as most other industrialized countries already do, and I would gladly raise taxes on people like me to underwrite such a benefit.

On the other hand, I opposed the unnecessary war and occupation that the Bush administration launched against Iraq, and the subsequent $800 Billion cost to taxpayers which helped reverse the budget surplus President Bush inherited, sending us into a deep deficit. (The human suffering from that decision to go to war is incalculable.) It would have been much more honest for Mr. Bush and Congress to raise taxes on people like me who can afford it in order to pay for the war rather than to continue to pass the costs to future generations. But it seems raising taxes is even more unpopular than war, so we borrow.

So, like nearly everyone else, I pay my taxes, and I argue about what the best use of our resources might be. I hope for a more progressive tax policy that relieves the poor and lets those of us to whom much has been given be expected to give more. Is there a line for me when the policies of a government might be so abhorrent that I would refuse to pay taxes? I don't know. Maybe there is. I know that I do respect many who have risked their freedom to raise into public awareness policies that are immoral.

Friday, November 18, 2011 -- -- Week of Proper 28, Year One
Hilda, Abbess of Whitby, 680

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 992)
Psalms (morning) 102 // 107:1-32 (evening)
1 Maccabees 4:36-59* *found in the Apocrypha
Revelation 22:6-13
Matthew 18: 10-20

"I fell down to worship at the feet of the angel who showed them to me; but he said to me, 'You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you and your comrades the prophets, and with those who keep the words of this book. Worship God!'" (Revelation 8b-9)

Our parishioner Andrew Kilgore is a gifted artist who specializes in portraits. He has created a wonderful presentation titled Ineffable Connections, a collection of compelling faces that he has captured in his work. In opening our eyes to see the fullness of humanity, Andrew inclines us toward a glimpse of the divine. I once heard Andrew say that humans are the only animals who will look toward the direction that someone points rather than looking at the finger doing the pointing.

In today's reading from the Revelation, John sees and hears things that are holy, eternal, ineffable. Instinctively, in awe he falls in worship at the feet of the angel who has revealed this to him. The angel immediately tells John to stop. The angel is only the means of God's revelation, not God. The angel says to stand up and keep the words of the book. But the book also is merely the means of God's revelation, not God. Worship God! Not the means of God's revelation.

Underneath the angel's command is the realization that God is ineffable. Yes, God is revealed. Yes, we can experience God. But the fullness of God who is the object of worship is beyond our knowing and our defining. Don't look at the finger and just stop there. Look beyond the angel, the book, or Andrew's transfiguring pictures. Look in the direction of what they are pointing toward... and worship.
____

The reading from Matthew begins with the illustration of the lost sheep. There is one sheep that is lost. Because it is lost, because of its need, the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to search, find and rejoice. "So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost." (Matthew 18:14) Here is yet another picture of the inclusiveness and universality of the work of God. We're invited to imagine and follow a God who will search diligently, patiently, and creatively in order to bring everyone to their home. We are invited to believe in a God who will succeed at that task, so that no one and nothing will be lost.

There is a second story in this reading -- about conflict. We are offered some rules of engagement. Visit one-on-one. If that doesn't work, take one or two along to broaden the perspective. If that doesn't work, use the whole church in the process of reconciliation. If that doesn't work, don't give up. "Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector." The Gentile and tax collector, after all, were objects of the church's missionary endeavor and beneficiaries of forgiveness.

Monday, December 12, 2011 -- -- Week of 3 Advent , Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 939)
Psalms 41, 52 (morning) // 44 (evening)
Zechariah 1:7-17
Revelation 3:7-13
Matthew 24:15-31

Throughout Matthew's "Little Apocalypse" (ch. 24-25) there seems to be an attitude of resignation, underlined by profound hope.

Wars, famine and persecution are par for the course. Deception, sacrilege and falsehood abounds. Life is full of suffering. Indeed, the entire environment of the planet is threatened.

But underneath all of that, there seems to be no fear, no panic. Only a sense of readiness and anticipation over the renewed presence and coming of Christ. Take heart. Raise your spirits. God is in charge of history, and Christ will come, bringing justice.

The entire discourse will conclude with a great judgment scene in our Saturday reading, the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats. We are given a mission in the time before the end. We are to focus our attention upon "the least of these." We are to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, and visit the prisoner.

All hell may be breaking loose around us. Yes, the foundations may shake. But the Little Apocalypse sermon invites us not to obsess, panic or be worried. Trust and hope that Christ is coming to reconcile all, to bring justice and true peace. In the meantime, take care of "the least of these," for that is standard of his coming judgment.

There is something liberating for me about this invitation. I tend to obsess and worry about current events. I follow the news and create and inner dialogue of rant. Sometimes that rant emerges into speech. Even into newspaper columns. I am angry and frustrated at those who seem to be threatening the things I love. I am anxious and worried about the desecrations of opportunity, equality and environment that make this era seem apocalyptic. It is easy to become cynical or even despairing.

There is something about the flavor of Matthew 24-25 that is like a friend looking upon us -- erect, bright-eyed, and smiling broadly -- and saying, "Well, what did you expect?" A confident, joyous laugh fills the universe. "Raise your expectations. Christ is always just around the corner."

And from the altitude of a more divine perspective, I can let go of my anxiety; I can embrace a hopeful faith, and be renewed, especially for whatever work I can do that is responsive to the needs of "the least of these."

If I return my attention to the swirl of politics, news and economics, I can attend to it more centered, seeing it all primarily through the interpretative lens of the call to care for "the least of these," grounded in a confidence that God's arc of justice is bending mightily and hopefully.

My Advent yearning grows. Come, Lord Jesus.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011 -- Week of 3 Advent , Year Two
Lucy (Lucia), Martyr at Syracuse, 304

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 939)
Psalms 45 (morning) 47, 48 (evening)
Zechariah 2:1-13
Revelation 3:14-22
Matthew 24:32-44

It is said that the role of the prophet is to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable.

Zechariah the prophet speaks to a demoralized and vulnerable people. The Babylonian exile is a recent memory. Just twenty years before, the Persian king Cyrus had given leave for the exiled people to return to their homeland to rebuild. But the restoration project had been tenuous. Yes, their homes were re-established, but the symbols of civic vitality were still as they had been following the destruction of the city of Jerusalem years ago. The walls were broken down, and the Temple lay in ruin. They are living in their ancient homeland among foreign people who seem to be tolerating them, but they are not in charge of their own land or their own destiny.

Zechariah writes at about the time when Ezra and Nehemiah with the support of Haggai will stir up the people to restore the walls of Jerusalem, to make it a city that has some security and military protection, and to rebuild the Temple. From their perspective, it would be a project of immense proportion -- just to get back to where they were before the invasion.

But Zechariah sees another possibility. In his vision, he stops the surveyor with the measuring line and halts the preparation for rebuilding the walls. An angel speaks to Zechariah, "Run, say to that young man: Jerusalem shall be inhabited like villages without walls, because of the multitude of people and animals in it. For I will be a wall of fire all around it, says the Lord, and I will be the glory within it."

This is a different way of living in the world. No walls either to keep out or to limit the freedom of the inhabitants. God is the protection for this visionary city, and God's presence is at its center. This nation will be a blessing to all of the other nations of the world, not a challenge. These other peoples will be welcome, and "many nations shall join themselves to the Lord on that day, and shall be my people; and I will dwell in your midst."

How hard must it have been for others to imagine such a possibility. To build a civilization in a new way. An open, defenseless city of welcome and hospitality. A city trusting in God rather than its own might. A city with God at its center instead of its own pride. Zechariah is saying something about the nature of community and about a vision for a new political order. How different might our nation be if it were to live by such a vision?

Zechariah is also saying something that can apply to us personally. What might we be like if we responded to ruin or catastrophe with a confident trust in God's eternal presence at our center and a willingness to re-engage without defensiveness and suspicion, trusting God as our protection. What does it mean to be a person without defensive walls?

Zechariah says that God regards the people as "the apple of my eye." God loves and cherishes us. Within that love and benevolent regard is our rebuilding and our security.

Zechariah closes this passage with an image that can touch anyone with a contemplative bone in his body. "Be silent, all people, before the Lord; for he has roused himself from his holy dwelling."

God is alive and active. God is at the center of our life. We may be silent. Defenseless. Peaceful. Peace. All is well. All will be well.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011 -- Week of 3 Advent , Year Two
Juan de la Cruz (John of the Cross), Mystic, 1591

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 939)
Psalms 119:49-72 (morning) 49, [53] (evening)
Zechariah 3:1-10
Revelation 4:1-8
Matthew 24:45-51

There is something wonderfully passive about the vision of heaven John is given at the opening of chapter 4 of his Revelation. A door opens; a voice invites: "at once I was in the spirit," he says. Moving inward, downward -- he ascends into heaven. But he is doing nothing. He's only watching. All is given.

That which is given is a universal harmony. There is the throne, the rainbow, the elders and angels -- thunder, lightning, torches and creatures -- a sea of glass like crystal. It all centers on the divine presence, and at the center is the eternal hymn, "Holy, holy, holy, the Lord God the Almighty, who was and is and is to come."

It's all about God. John just watches, in awe. There's nothing for him to do. Nothing to add. The vision is a gift. He didn't have to increase his spiritual discipline to earn it. It was just given to him. A glimpse of the deepest reality -- universal harmony centered upon God.

I recently visited with a friend who was about to go into a surgery that was so life-threatening that two clinics and every doctor but one refused to perform it. Her odds for surviving weren't good.

But she was fine. She was bullet-proof. She'd been there before. Some time back she had coded. She died on the table. She was brought back. And she returned with a memory. She was in heaven, and there she met the dearest friends she had ever had. They loved her more than anyone else had ever loved her, and they knew her better than even her beloved family did. And she knew she loved them, more than anyone, even family. But, she wondered, she didn't know their names. It was as if she couldn't remember the names of the most important, most beloved friends of her life.

They were "her angels," she said. Before going into the risky surgery she said, with peace and confidence -- "They will be with me in there. They will be with the doctor."

Nothing to do. All is given. All is ultimate harmony, peace and praise at the center of everything.

Oh, she survived. She's got a long, tough road ahead, with no guarantees. Except. She's got her angels. She's seen something that makes everything else subordinate. She didn't have to do anything for the gift of that vision. Except die. That seems to be the way it is.

Friday, December 16, 2011 -- Week of 3 Advent , Year Two
Ralph Adam Cram, Richard Upjohn, and John LaFarge; Architects, 1942, 1879; Artist, 1910

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 939)
Psalms 40, 54 (morning) 51 (evening)
Zechariah 7:8 - 8:8
Revelation 5:6-14
Matthew 25:14-30

As I live in my 60th year, I recognize that I have rarely been as troubled by the spirit and direction of my nation as I am now. We seem mired in conflict and dominated by those who have made a pact with sectarianism and meanness. I long for a society that shares the vision of the prophets.

"The word of the Lord came to Zechariah, saying: Thus says the Lord of hosts: Render true judgments, show kindness and mercy to one another; do not oppress the widow, the orphan, the alien, or the poor; and do not devise evil in your hearts against one another." (Zech. 7:8-10) In other words, create a just society.

Zechariah looks at his people's history and sees that when they "refused to listen, ...great wrath came from the Lord of hosts, ...and a pleasant land was made desolate." A decisive portion of our nation today seems to be determined to follow that destructive path.

But Zechariah also has a vision of restoration, when "old men and old women shall again sit in the streets..., each with staff in hand because of their great age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets. Thus says the Lord of hosts: Even though it seems impossible to the remnant of this people in these days, should it also seem impossible to me, says the Lord of hosts?" (8:4-6)

We know our Biblical history. We know that the rulers and the people failed to listen to the prophets over and over. There are always consequences to our pride and stubbornness. But God always follows judgment with redemption. The final chapter of history is always God's act of restoration and reconciliation.

So in the meantime, the best we can do is side with the prophets. Work for a just society. Proclaim in the name of the Lord true judgments; kindness and mercy; compassion toward the vulnerable, alien and poor; and open-heartedness. If we live in a time like so many others when a nation refuses to listen, we will suffer with our neighbors, working and actively waiting for God's work of restoration.

Monday, December 19, 2011 -- Week of 4 Advent , Year Two
Lillian Trasher, Missionary in Egypt, 1961

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 939)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) 112, 115 (evening)
Zephaniah 3:14-20
Titus 2:1-10
Luke 1:1-25

I am more like Zechariah than I am like Mary. When the angel visits with an unexpected insight of peculiar wonder, I am much more likely to ask, "How will I know that this is so?" than I am to respond, "Let it be with me according to your word."

I am a natural doubter. I tend to hedge my bets and need some corroborative evidence before I commit. Even when I've tilted to a place where I mostly believe something, a large portion of me stays in abeyance, nurturing a comfortable doubt, just in case. I don't jump in with both feet, not at first.

Like Zechariah, it can take me a long time for me to find my voice. When I first encounter a new wonder -- an insight that challenges the way I used to think -- my heart quickens, and I am intrigued. But before I commit completely, I need to think about it some more, investigate and wonder. I need to live with the subject for a while. I tend to keep my mouth shut for a time, trying to figure out the implications and angles.

I'm not like Mary. I need some time to settle in before I can exclaim "Here am I the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." I might think to myself, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior," but it will take me a whi.e before I'll say it out loud. I'll worry about the revolutionary consequences of some thought that threatens to turn things around. I'll trouble over the implications for a bit before I'm willing to sing publicly "He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones." I'd like to avoid all of that discomfort if I can. It just takes me a little while longer to get used to my world being changed.

But after I've lived with something for a while. After I've let it warm in the crockpot, after it has brewed and seeped with a few more ingredients that can flavor and enhance my overall understanding, I can find my voice. I can, like Zechariah, name the truth I have come to know. Eventually I can stand up to the questions -- "None of your relatives has this name" -- and I can make my defense. Maybe because I was an English major in college, sometimes I can even find some satisfying words to speak of the new truth: "By the tender mercy of our God the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace." I've got a gift to give the church also. Sometimes the radical implications of the gospel sound better in a soft, Southern accent.

Yet, I envy the "Mary-types." I admire those who seize the wonder with such instant singleminded grace and power. I wish I could jump like the shepherds who run so quickly when the angels sing a new heavenly hymn. I'll watch silently from the shadows to see what they stir up, to test whether my intuition stays vibrant, as they proclaim what I suspect might be so. When I finally speak up, I feel a bit apologetic toward those who took the brunt of the first heat. But we are cousins. We are family -- Mary and Zechariah.

We all have our parts to play -- natural believers and natural doubters. We are who we are, and God's messengers visit us all. I thank the Mary's who wait patiently for us Zechariah's to find our voice. The Holy Family welcomes both the enthusiastic shepherds and the ponderous, slow magi with their calculations and unnecessary gifts. It's all good. We're just different. Different temperaments; different timing. But for God, a thousand years is like a day. And God will have God's way.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011 -- Week of 4 Advent , Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 939)
Psalms 66, 67 (morning) 112,115 (evening)
1 Samuel 2:1b-10
Titus 2:1-10
Luke 1:26-38

Traditionally many religions including Christianity have used feminine imagery to speak of God's Spirit and God's Wisdom in the world. The Hebrews used the word Sophia to personify the creative, active presence of God's Wisdom-Spirit within creation.

Some people will imagine the presence of that Spirit within us, at the center of our being, a few inches behind our belly button -- in a place that is deeper than thought, close to the heart yet even deeper than emotion. Spiritual directors have encouraged those on the spiritual journey to listen and to be open to God's direction within, to the prompting of Sophia, Wisdom, Spirit. That prompting is often accessed through another feminine resource, our intuition. Intuitive openness and acceptance of the Spirit's yearning for us is an ancient path for God's creative activity. God honors us by inviting us into cooperation with what God is doing, allowing us to be co-creators with God's Spirit in the new birth of God's blessing.

One of the things people will say over and over is that God is full of surprises. What God is up to is truly unpredictable. Another thing people will say is that God comes to us through our weaknesses, often using our most frightening life-events to announce a new beginning.

We look at what happened to a young peasant girl in Galilee. She found herself inconveniently pregnant. It was a pregnancy that could cause scandal and would probably ruin her plans for her future. But she experienced a message from God so powerful that it seemed personified. The messenger first told her that she was not condemned, but favored; that God loved her and blessed her, as odd as that seemed under the circumstances. And something about the messenger and the message took away her fear. Perfect love always casts out fear. She listened from deep within her. "God favors you. Do not be afraid."

From her depths she answered: "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word."

When I imagine the Annunciation to Mary, I imagine something happening right below the belly button, in the very center of her being, in that intuitive place where we experience Sophia-Wisdom-Spirit, and where God invites us to be co-creators to cooperate in what God is doing.

Mary is not the only one pregnant with the gestating birth of God's being in the world. Each of us carries God's work within us. God's Wisdom speaks gently at the center of our own vulnerability saying, "You have favor with God. Do not be afraid. Listen."

Wednesday, December 21, 2011 -- Week of 4 Advent , Year Two
Saint Thomas the Apostle

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER
the readings for St. Thomas (p. 996)
Morning Prayer: Psalms 23, 121; Job 42:1-6; 1 Peter 1:3-9
Evening Prayer: Psalms 27; Isaiah 43 8-13; John 14:1-7

OR
the readings for Wednesday, of 4 Advent (p. 939)
Psalms 72 (morning) 111,113 (evening)
2 Samuel 7:1-17
Titus 2:11 - 3:8a
Luke 1:39-48a(48b-56)

I chose the readings for St. Thomas

There is something satisfying about the fact that the Church's feast of St. Thomas happens on or near the winter solstice for us in the northern hemisphere. At the end of the longest night, there is a turning point. The darkness will go no further. Light, warmth and new life renew their promise. It is still dark, but the progression has changed. Hope arises. We will continue to live and grow.

It is a holy moment. Wikipedia lists 39 various winter celebrations that have some connection with the new light, new life, or some form of reversal. The Newgrange prehistoric monument in Ireland was built around 3200 BCE oriented toward the rising sun on the winter solstice, and Stonehenge was begun not too many years afterward.

The story of Thomas is a story of darkness turning to light. Thomas did not participate in the Easter visions of his friends. While the other disciples rejoiced because they had experienced something that convinced them of Jesus' resurrection, Thomas remained traumatized by grief. His consciousness was haunted by the very real memory of the wounds of nail and spear. He could not be soothed from the stories of others. In order to be healed, he needed something as real as the tragedy he had experienced.

Jesus honored Thomas' grief and his authenticity. Jesus gave to Thomas a special visitation, offering to Thomas just the kind of experience that he needed so the meaning of those traumatic wounds would no longer be painful, but inspiring of worship.

The reading from 1 Peter assigned for Morning Prayer on Thomas' day is a glorious exultation of the hope of promise Christ gives us through resurrection. "By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials." (3b-6)

We also read Job's response to his encounter with God in the whirlwind. "I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you." (42:5)

In the darkness of grief and trauma, when nights are longest and life is cold, we ask of God some hope that is as real as our pain and loss. We wait -- like Thomas; like the cold, dark earth -- for the sign of hope. Thomas is our patron when we are in that lonesome place.

Friday, December 23, 2011 -- Week of 4 Advent , Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 939)
Psalms 93, 96 (morning) 148, 150 (evening)
Baruch 4:21-29 *
Galatians 3:15-22
Luke 1:67-80 or Matthew 1:1-17
*found in the Apocrypha

Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, speaks at the circumcision of his son. The words from Luke's gospel are familiar ones -- used as a canticle in worship for centuries, available in the liturgy of Episcopal Church both for the Daily Office and for the Eucharist.

I'm struck by the words, "By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."

It seems a powerful prayer for this time of life. I find it resonates with my deepest yearnings for our nation and people during dark times of fear, division and abuse of power. I am looking for the dawn from on high to break upon us and show us light and direction toward peace. Not just peace that is the absence of conflict, but the wider peace that is expressed so evocatively by the Hebrew word "shalom."

The need for God's dawning light is a daily need in each life. We all sit in some form of darkness. We all live in the shadow of death, not only the inevitable end of our earthly lives but also all of the ways life is threatened, diminished, minimized.

Part of the church's invitation to the discipline of Daily Morning Prayer is the experience of joining centuries of dawnings through the word of scripture, canticle and prayer, bringing light from on high and guiding our feet into the way of shalom.

We join Zechariah in prayer this day. "By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace." May this Christmas be the dawning of that light in the darkness which guides us into the way of peace.

Monday, January 2, 2012 -- The 9th day of Christmas , Year Two
Vedanayagam Samuel Azariah, First Indian Anglican Bishop, Dornakal, 1945

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 941)
Psalms 34 (morning) 33 (evening)
1 Kings 19:1-8
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:1-14

It is a good thing to make a new beginning. We can feel so haunted, encumbered and bound by the past. Sunrise, like resurrection, gives us new birth, new life. Every experience of confession and forgiveness relieves the burden of accumulated guilt and bestows a fresh start.

There is something especially renewing about the turning of the year. It is a time to let go of the past and to embrace the possibility of a new future. We make resolutions. Some create goals for the year. We reclaim our birthright to live a full and wholesome life.

Last January our friend Philip Zweig who volunteers for our Community Meals feeding program made a new year's resolution to ride his bicycle every day -- a commitment to a growing practice of sustainability, letting go of dependence upon the automobile and embracing a healthier form of travel. He invited others to join him in his discipline by pledging a small donation to Community Meals for each mile he would ride. Two days ago at the end of the year, Philip rode a leisurely victory lap with friends, having accomplished his goal of riding every day -- include days of rain, snow and ice -- riding over 10,000 miles in 2011.

If he can do that, what might I do? I'm thinking of the disciplines that bring balance, health and wholeness to my life. I'm thinking of the habits that derail and waste my life. The new year offers an opportunity to let go of the latter and to embrace the former.

The morning psalm (34) offers encouragement:

1 I will bless God at all times,
and praise shall ever be in my mouth.

5 Look upon the Most High and be radiant,
and let not your faces be ashamed.

6 I called in my affliction, and God heard me
and saved me from all my troubles.

8 Taste and see that God is good;
happy are they who trust in the Most High!

12 Who among you loves life
and desires long life to enjoy prosperity?

13 Keep your tongue from evil-speaking
and your lips from lying words.

14 Turn from evil and do good;
seek peace and pursue it.

18 God is near to the brokenhearted
and will save those whose spirits are crushed.

19 Many are the troubles of the righteous,
but God will deliver them out of them all.

22 O God, you will ransom the life of your servants,
and none will be punished who trust in you.

Let us offer our resolutions to God with brokenhearted trust and radiant faces. Today is a new beginning -- the dawn of new hope. Behold, the past is gone and the future is nigh. What can I do to help bring life and light to to this new year?

Tuesday, January 3, 2012 -- The 10th day of Christmas , Year Two
William Passavant, Prophetic Witness, 1894

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 941)
Psalms 68 (morning) 72 (evening)
1 Kings 19:9-18
Ephesians 4:17-32
John 6:15-27

"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." (John 6:27a)

The turning of the new year invites us to examine at our lives. Where do we place our priorities? How do we use our energy? What do we worry about?

Although it was more than 35 years ago, I still remember the last sentence of the first talk at my Cursillo weekend. "If your thoughts, your money, and your free time were a comet, and you were attached to its tail, where would it be taking you? That is your ideal."

Where is energy and motivation of our thoughts and time directed? The language of John's gospel contrasts the "food that perishes" with the "food that endures for eternal life." I think it is significant that Jesus speaks that way following the feeding of the multitude. Using the modest resources of two fish and five barley loaves -- the food of the poor -- Jesus has given to hungry people the food for the day that nourishes the body. He does not ignore their basic material needs. Yet he points beyond that material feeding toward the more significant "food that endures for eternal life." I also think it is significant that Jesus speaks that way following a terrifying journey with the disciples in a rough sea with strong wind.

I sense a similar theme in today's story from 1 Kings. Elijah has been fighting in the political arena, and though he has profoundly defeated a party of his enemies, his life is threatened now, and he has been forced to flee. In the wilderness, God feeds him and takes him to a place of encounter. Elijah experiences the great wind that splits mountains and breaks rock. He feels the earthquake that shakes the foundations. He sees the fire that burns all that is before it. Although these are signs that elsewhere are manifestations of God, God is not in the wind or earthquake or fire. It is not in the dramatic and demonstrable expressions of power that Elijah knows the divine presence. It is in the "sound of sheer silence" that Elijah knows himself to be in the holy presence.

From that quiet center, Elijah is renewed. Again he is given a political task with a religious dimension. He is charged with the anointing of two kings and a successor prophet.

From the quiet center comes the food that endures for eternal life. Out of that place of union and renewal we are charged to move into the world to address such material needs as hunger, poverty and the exercise of political power.

John's Jesus knows how easy it is to be distracted by the feeding, even when the mission is successful -- to see primarily the material significance of the work. All of us are so easily caught up in the dramatic and powerful -- the wind and earthquake and fire -- even when there is no presence within the power. There is so much that can distract us -- especially the quantifiable, and whatever confronts us with its great power.

Below the rough sea and daily bread, and beyond the wind, earthquake and fire, there is the food that endures for eternal life. It is food that is often given to us in the sound of sheer silence.

Where do our thoughts, our resources, and our free time tend to collect? Is is the material worries of daily life or even the structural evils of hunger and poverty and politics? Is it today's peculiar dramas wherever the winds are blowing, the earthquakes and fires that fill our headlines or threaten our securities?

The new year invites us to turn toward that place where the food that endures for eternal life feeds us from the infinite silence of God. Be still, and be fed. Then turn to feed others, and to face the elements fearlessly.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012 -- The 11th day of Christmas , Year Two
Elizabeth Seton, Founder of the American Sisters of Charity, 1821

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 941)
Psalms 85, 87 (morning) 89:1-29 (evening)
Joshua 3:14 - 4:7
Ephesians 5:1-20
John 9:1-12, 35-38

"No good deed goes unpunished," according to the old maxim. Jesus heals a man born blind. You would think that all would rejoice. Instead, an argument ensues. The officials get involved. They've got institutions and rules and traditions to uphold. It is necessary that the blind man who now sees be excommunicated from the congregation. Jesus finds the exiled man, and extends both kindness and wisdom. Jesus tells them all, "I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind."

Reinhold Niebuhr was a theologian adept at seeing the ominous sub-text in our good intentions. Our pride, self-preoccupation and self-illusion is so prevalent, he said, that "even the best human actions have some sin." His sermons invite us to the kind of self-analysis that will lead to repentance, and then he intends to inspire enough courage for us to take some kind of action to advance the cause of justice, even as we recognize the ambiguity of our own best actions.

Niebuhr sensed that our proclivity to perpetuate sin and injustice is even greater when we act as groups or institutions than it is when we act as individuals. We are less moral in groups and nations than we are as individuals.

He writes:

Individual men may be moral in the sense that they are able to consider interests other than their own. ...But all these achievements are more difficult, if not impossible, for human societies and social groups. In every human group there is less reason to guide and to check impulse, less capacity for self-transcendence, less ability to comprehend the needs of others and therefore more unrestrained egoism than the individuals, who compose the group, reveal in their personal relationships. (from Moral Man and Immoral Society, quoted by Richard Crouter, Reinhold Niebuhr: On Politics, Religion, and Christian Faith, Oxford, 2010; p. 48)

Like a diocesan committee, the Pharisees gather to investigate Jesus' healing of the man born blind to determine whether it meets diocesan guidelines and policies. An individual cleric outside the institutional glare might have embraced the goodness, but the group has an institution to defend. And they do so, unjustly. As the American major said over the ruins of Ben Tre, Vietnam, "It became necessary to destroy the village in order to save it."

"Surely we are not blind, are we?" chant the officials. Jesus answers, "...Now that you say, 'We see,' your sin remains."

In the middle of his treatise The Irony of American History, Niebuhr offers this:

Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime, therefore we must be saved by hope. Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous can be accomplished alone; therefore we are saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore we must be saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness. (Ibid, p. 62)

The Psalmist speaks for us and for our nation again today:
Restore us then, O God our Savior; let your anger depart from us. Will you be displeased with us for ever; will you prolong your anger from age to age? Will you not give us life again, that your people may rejoice in you? Show us your mercy, O God, and grant us your salvation. (Psalm 85:4-7)

Friday, January 6, 2012 -- The Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 943)
Psalms 46, 97 (morning) 96, 100 (evening)
Isaiah 49:1-7
Revelation 21:22-27
Matthew 12:14-17

In a darkened church a dozen evenings ago we sang "How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given." Out of the darkness comes light. And just as the mysterious twinkle of a star or the energizing light of the sun falls on all humanity without distinction, so this light is given for all, not just for those who have known themselves to be chosen.

In his 12th chapter Matthew narrates the unfolding character of Christ's light breaking through the artificial barriers of religion and law, tribe and geography, theology and family, gently bringing God's good news of healing, blessing and compassion. He insists that Jesus is acting universally, yet gently, remembering Isaiah's words "he will not break a bruised reed or quench an smoldering wick." One of the gifts Jesus brings is the gift of justice.

Epiphany is the day when we celebrate the vision that Jesus is for everybody. We who are Gentiles benefit from his manifestation just as surely as those who are Jewish do. Just as the particularities of the sabbath laws could not contain his boundless compassion, neither can any Christian laws we may erect falsely in his name. At the end of chapter twelve, Jesus reinterprets the meaning of family, expanding it universally. Radical words in a patriarchal and tribal culture.

Those of us who have been given the treasure of this manifestation are also invited to recognize Christ outside our boundaries. There are still foreign wise men following other stars whose light draws them toward goodness, beauty and truth. How gently can we affirm our common journey toward the light that heals and brings blessing and compassion to all the earth.

On this feast especially, we confess the darkness of our acts to box up and possess the light for ourselves and to cast the other part of the world into a darkness made of our own shadow -- the darkness of "them." Our language of saved and unsaved, believer and unbeliever, redeemed and doomed, Christian and non-Christian. What an irony that in the name of Jesus we have created divisions. What a blasphemy that we have called on the name of Christ and made war on the "others". Forgive us.

The light still shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Let there be light. And let those of us who follow the light of Christ not be blinded to its manifestation beyond our nearsighted barriers.

Monday, January 9, 2012 -- Week of 1 Epiphany
Julia Chester Emery, Missionary, 1922

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 943)
Psalms 1, 2, 3 (morning) 4, 7 (evening)
Genesis 2:4-9(10-15)16-25
Hebrews 1:1-14
John 1:1-18

Beginnings. Today's readings initiate our next few weeks of successive readings in Genesis, Hebrews, and the gospel of John. All three open with words of beginnings.

The Genesis reading begins our great myth of creation and fall. God takes up "dust from the ground" (adamah in Hebrew), breaths the "breath" (ruach, spirit) of life into it, and it becomes a man (adam in Hebrew). Or, trying to retain the Hebrew linguistics in the English -- God forms from the Earth, "Earthling" and breathes the life of spirit into his being; or God forms from Humus, and breathes "Human" into being.

The gospel of John and the epistle to the Hebrews are concerned to proclaim that we are in relationship with this beginning through our life in Christ (who elsewhere will be called the second Adam, the second "Earthling.") John says, "In the beginning was the Word," (the Logos), the actualization of God's activity within creation. Hebrews is eager to connect this originating work with the "Son, ...the reflection of God's glory and the exact imprint of God's very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word."

Through the Word, God's Spirit breathes into Mother Earth and creates a new life that can be conscious of God. The rest of history is the dance of the love story between God and humanity, a story of unrequited love and betrayal from the creatures, and steadfast love and compassion from the Creator.

Today, I want to live in that creative Trinity. I want be conscious of God, breathing me and the whole of Earth into being. I want to be awake to the never ending activity of the Word whom we name Jesus, constantly forming being from the dust of the ground. Today may my words, my breath, and my being be one with the divine consciousness for which I was breathed into life. May I be fully Human; a Spirit-breathing Earthling, awake to the ever-present Son which dwells within me, "the reflection of God's glory and the exact imprint of God's very being, [sustaining] all things by his powerful word."

Wednesday, January 11, 2012 -- Week of 1 Epiphany, Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 943)
Psalms 119:1-24 (morning) 12, 13, 14 (evening)
Genesis 4:1-16
Hebrews 2:11-18
John 1:(29-34)35-42

Today we begin with the story of Cain and Abel, two brothers. It is a story that ends in bloodshed, the first murder. Cain resents God's greater acceptance of Abel's offering, and reacts with violence.

John's gospel also gives us a story of cousins and brothers.

John the Baptist sees the Spirit descend and remain upon his cousin Jesus, and John recognizes that this is "a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me." Even though John is older than his cousin, John blesses the greater blessing that God gives to Jesus, and calls him Lamb of God and Son of God.

In our gospel story we also have two brothers, Andrew and Peter. Andrew is with his teacher John the Baptist when John points out Jesus, the Lamb of God. Andrew follows Jesus, who invites him to "Come and see." After being with Jesus for the day, Andrew seeks out his brother Simon Peter and brings him to Jesus, who names him "Cephas," Aramaic for "rock" (i.e. Rocky). Peter will become the leader of the early church. Andrew, the brother who brought him to Jesus, will continue in harmony with his brother and the community of disciples.

Jealously and violence. Blessing and community.

Some have said that the Cain and Abel story symbolically represents the conflict between herdsmen and agrarian farmers. Besides the prejudice that so regularly occurs between peoples of contrasting lifestyles, there was true conflict when these different groups competed for the same resources of water and land. If the herdsmen allowed their cattle to stray into fields they would damage the farmers' crops. If the farmers fenced the land they inhibited the herds from traveling to green fields and water. It makes me think of the Broadway play Oklahoma, and lively song that starts, "Oh, the Farmer and the Cowman should be friends" -- a tame representation of a bitter feud.

We have in today's story the first use of the word "sin" in scripture. When Cain becomes angry that his offering of the fruit of the ground is not accepted, God says, "Why are you angry...? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is lurking at the door; its desire is for you, but you must master it."

But Cain broods and does not master his afflictive emotions. He lures Abel to the field and kills him. In a powerful moment, God tells Cain that he cannot hide his act. "Listen; your brother's blood is crying out to me from the ground!" God hears and knows the secret violence and injustice of the earth.

Cain's curse is a profound one. He is a farmer. A settled man of the soil. Now he must become a wanderer, and the soil will not yield to him. For a farmer to become a wanderer is a bitter curse indeed. As a wanderer, he has no rights or protection of tribe or belonging. He would be vulnerable to blood revenge for his act of murder.

God places a mark upon Cain as a warning, to protect him from death. The mark of Cain has a terrible history. During much of Christian history the mark of Cain was believed to be his black skin. The tradition justified racist theologies that saw the darker races as cursed by God and therefore destined to slavery and oppression. The Southern Baptists split from Northern Baptists using the curse of Cain as justification for their defense of slavery and their opposition toward the education of slaves. How ironic that the story of one brother's violence toward another became a justification for centuries of oppression and violence of brother upon brother.

Jealousy, prejudice and violence is healed by blessing and community. John the Baptist and Andrew are models for us. They see God's blessing upon their brothers and they rejoice. When Jesus accepts his death on behalf of the sin of the world, he becomes the Lamb of God who takes away our sin, heals our division, and consumes our violence with peace. The farmer and cowman, the settled and the wanderer, the black and white, the conservative and the liberal should be friends.

Our reading in Hebrews says that Jesus is not ashamed to call us his brothers and sisters. It says that Jesus destroyed the power of death and freed us whose lives are "held in slavery by the fear of death." "For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father... Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested." We are called into the universal community that restores peace to the human family.

This is a day of much political pronouncement. I want to hear leaders who acknowledge our relationships with one another -- our fellow human beings are our neighbors, and we are responsible toward one another. I do not want to support politicians who create fear and division. I want to support politicians who create blessing and community. Will we live as Cain and Abel or will we will live like the disciples of Jesus?

Friday, January 13, 2012 -- -- Week of 1 Epiphany, Year Two
Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, 367

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 943)
Psalms 16, 17 (morning) 22 (evening)
Genesis 6:1-8
Hebrews 3:12-19
John 2:1-12

The Heart

All this week we have been following our great Biblical myths about the devolution of humanity. Myth is the poetic narrative all great peoples use to reflect upon our important questions of life. We resort to the language of myth when talking about Mystery. To my mind, myth is far deeper and more compelling than mere fact.

We've been with Adam and Eve as they left paradise; with Cain the brother-murderer and city-founder; with his offspring who create civilization and multiply violence. And now in the sixth chapter of Genesis, the created boundary between heaven and earth begins to break. Heavenly beings called "the sons of God" cross the boundary to have sexual relations with human women. There is reference to the shadowy Nephilim, thought to describe a superhuman race of mixed human and divine parents. Chaos is growing.

Then comes the denouement -- "The Lord saw that the wickedness of humankind was great in the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually." (5:6) The heart is the focus of divine interest. In biblical language, the heart is much more than a physical pump. It is the place where the intellect and the will unite. The heart is where knowing what is good and evil connects with wanting to do the good and not the evil. It is the core and essence of our being. The heart is deeper than thoughts and ideas. It is the animating force, the level of the self, the place of transformation. So when we read those words -- "every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually" -- we realize that it describes an ultimate catastrophe, a complete failure. It's time to give up the project. But... there was Noah.

Our reading from Hebrews warns us to "take care, brothers and sisters, that none of you may have an evil, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God." The writer is convinced that hardness of heart is the cause of all disaster and the source of our rebellion against God. We are invited to have soft hearts, hearts open to the transforming love of God. And our example is Jesus.

One of the best titles for Jesus is to say that Jesus is the Heart of God. Jesus reveals God's heart. Jesus shows us in human life what God's passion is like. God's thoughts and will are united in the heart of Jesus.

And in John's gospel we've reached a climactic moment. John has been building toward this since his symphonic opening. It is Jesus' first sign. The first act that announces his presence and mission. And what is that first sign? It is the miracle of turning water into wine at a wedding feast.

The Jewish blessing prayer given over wine gives thanks to God for the gift of wine which "gladdens our hearts." At a wedding when the union of hearts is celebrated in community, Jesus turns the ordinary (water) into the extraordinary (wine). And it is good wine. It gladdens the hearts, it stimulates conviviality and community. It is a sign of what Jesus' coming intends: Glad hearts. Soft hearts. Community. Hearts open to God's goodness and at peace with our neighbors.

Have a glad heart day today!

Monday, January 16, 2012 -- Week of 2 Epiphany, Year Two
Richard Meux Benson, Religious, 1915
Charles Gore, Bishop of Worcester, of Birmingham, and of Oxford, 1932

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 943)
Psalms 16, 17 (morning) 22 (evening)
Genesis 6:1-8
Hebrews 3:12-19
John 2:1-12

Psalm 25 is such a fine psalm. It is one of my favorites.

It is written by one who is beset by enemies and troubles. Unlike the psalmist we do not dread invasion, occupation and exile from the army of a mightier empire. We are the empire. We live in a relatively secure nation and time.

But there are those who regard our nation as enemies. Though they are small and so weak that their only weapon is fear, they can make us reactive, and some of us, including our leaders at times, have succumbed to their campaign of fear. "Fear not," the scriptures remind us.

When I read in the Psalms of the threat from enemies, that threat is usually much closer to home than the threat of invading foreigners. It is the threat we bring upon ourselves when we live as enemies of our highest aspirations. When we let fear, greed, and power motivate us, we become our own enemy. Sometimes the enemy comes from among our friends and neighbors. There are political movements who define themselves by fear, greed, and power. Sometimes the enemy is our own internalized fears, our greed and exaggerated needs. We have to triumph over enemies that are not only other people, but also the part of ourselves that works against our highest values.

"Show me your ways, O God, and teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; in you have I trusted all the day long." We pray with the Psalmist, asking God to renew our commitment to God's way. And what is God's way? The next verse names it beautifully. "Remember, O God, your compassion and love, for they are from everlasting."

Compassion and love. These are our highest aspirations and values. Compassion and love -- the antidote to fear, greed and power. "All your paths are love and faithfulness," the Psalmist remembers. "You guide the humble in doing right and teach your way to the lowly." Love and compassion, exercised humbly, with special attention toward the lowly -- the path God invites us to walk.

The Psalmist asks for forgiveness for the times he has not followed in this way, the times when we succumb to our fears, our greed, our pride. "Remember not the sins of my youth and my transgressions; remember me according to your love and for the sake of your goodness, O God. ...For your Name's sake, O God, forgive my sin, for it is great." With reverence for God restored, we reassert our trust that God will teach and lead us.

The Psalmist looks at his troubles. He has sorrows and miseries. He has enemies. He asks for help. "The sorrows of my heart have increased; bring me out of my troubles. Look upon my adversity and misery, and forgive me all my sin. Look upon my enemies, for they are many, and they bear a violent hatred against me. Protect my life and deliver me; let me not be put to shame, for I have trusted in you." He closes with a recommitment to integrity and uprightness, and he grounds his hope in God.

Then he prays for the nation. May God deliver us from our troubles.

When I think of our nation, indeed we are beset by enemies -- by fear, greed and power. We are not a nation that is living by the divine vision of compassion and love, exercised humbly, with special attention toward the lowly. Deliver our people, O God, out of all our troubles also.

Psalm 25 is a good psalm for us and for our day.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012 -- Week of 2 Epiphany, Year Two
Antony, Abbot in Egypt, 356

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p 945)
Psalms 26, 28 (morning) 9, 15 (evening)
Genesis 9:1-17
Hebrews 5:7-14
John 3:16-21

"In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission." (Hebrews 5:7)

Yet the answer to Jesus' prayer was not accomplished during his lifetime. He was not saved from death. He was crucified and he died.

We cannot know the interior psychology of Jesus. So we don't know what he understood or thought or hoped as he died. The church has always insisted that Jesus was fully human. The death that he endured, he experienced as any human being would.

Mark's gospel indicates that part of what Jesus felt as he died was the experience of complete abandonment from God -- "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!" (15:34) Jesus had placed his hope in God for deliverance, and he realized that he was not going to be saved from death. Very likely he also felt the loss of the intimate relationship with God whom he called Abba; God had been the motivating center and energy of his life. For Jesus on the cross, God was absent. Jesus was suffering extreme physical torture; there was no escape; there was no answer; he was dying a humiliating, painful, public death; there was no promise that anything good would come out of this.

"In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries of tears to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission." We know the rest of the story. Jesus was vindicated. Jesus was raised from the dead. Jesus lives. But the living did not happen until after he experienced the pain and abandonment and death.

How often do we pray, and we experience no answer. We pray to God that God would save us, and we experience no sense of response, escape or deliverance. Yet the story of the resurrection reminds us that God brings life out of death. God can accomplish what is beyond our imagination. God surprises us. The scope of God's response is beyond our horizons.

So often when I see the grotesque suffering and senseless killing that fills our globe I feel like my prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who is able to save them from death are futile and hopeless. Nothing is changed. People die daily. Injustice abounds. For so many there is no escape; there is no answer.

Yet I cling to the hope of resurrection. God brings life from death. And I hold on to the conviction that the central reality of creation is God's love for the world. We hear that again from John's gospel today. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life." (John 3:16) I've never been convinced that this was merely a trivial formula for punching a ticket to heaven -- believe and get eternal life; don't believe and go to hell. That notion turns God into such an arbitrary monster.

The word "believe" comes from the same place as the word "belove." I think of those who do not know Jesus, but do know some form of love. Maybe they are somewhere in Sudan or Yemen or Afghanistan today. Maybe they are being caught up in some form of horrible violence, some terrible threat or torture from which there is no escape. Their love cries out with prayers and supplication, with loud cries of tears to the one who is able to save them from death. Regardless of their "belief," Jesus is with them. Jesus is one with them. Jesus knows and understands their experience. Their blood is their water of baptism. They will be heard, because of his reverent submission.

"Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him." (John 3:17)

Wednesday, January 18, 2012 -- Week of 2 Epiphany, Year Two
Confession of Saint Peter the Apostle

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Wed. of 2 Epiphany (p. 245)
Psalms 38 (morning) 119:25-48 (evening)
Genesis 9:18-29
Hebrews 6:1-12
John 3:22-36

OR the readings for Confession of St. Peter (p. 996)
Morning Prayer: Psalms 66, 67; Ezekiel 3:4-11; Acts 10:34-33
Evening Prayer; Psalms 118; Ezekiel 34:11-16; John 21:15-22

I chose the readings for Wed. of 2 Epiphany

The annotation in my Access Bible for Hebrews 6:1-12 is titled "Either progress or slip back." I remember years ago reading an entry from the dairy of Pope John XXIII. I can't find the reference, so I'll just trust my memory. It was a brief note about a day that sounded fairly normal to me. Not much had happened. He had been absorbed in the trivial demands of the day. He hadn't had time to read or study. He was writing in his diary late in the evening. With his simple eloquence, he mourned that he had lost a day, a full 24-hours, without growing or learning. Something was gone that could not be retrieved.

The writer of Hebrews opens this 6th chapter with a grand challenge: "Therefore let us go on toward perfection..." It is so easy in our culture to condone mediocrity with the excuse "Nobody's perfect." The author of Hebrews will have nothing of it. Strive for perfection. Strive for conscious union with God. He writes today, leave behind "the basic teaching about Christ" and be like fertile ground "that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is cultivated." He urges his readers to exercise the three virtues of faith, hope and love: For God "will not overlook your work and the love that you showed for his sake in serving the saints, as you still do. And we want each one of you to show the same diligence so as to realize the full assurance of hope to the very end, so that you may not become sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises."

I am reminded of the standard that Paul offers us in our striving. "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and temperance. There is no law against such things. ...If we live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit." (Galatians 5:22f)

The testimony tells us that we can live with this fullness. We can practice faith, hope and love. We can produce the fruits of the Spirit. We can live in conscious union with God. In fact, anything else is loss, something wasted that cannot be reclaimed.

More than any other New Testament writer the author to the Hebrews communicates this sense of tragedy when we fail to progress, when we slip back. In contrast to other writers who are sure that access to restoration is always available, the writer of Hebrews believes "it is impossible to restore again to repentance those who have once been enlightened... and have fallen away." Whenever we fall away from the enlightened life of grace that we have been given, there is something lost that cannot be reclaimed. The past slips behind us and cannot be changed. It's meaning can be changed, but its facts cannot. Sometimes we find it is simply to late for acting.

I know I've quoted this before, but I can't think of a better expression of that sense of loss than a passage toward the end of Graham Greene's novel The Power and the Glory. As the Whisky Priest anticipates his execution the next day, "He felt only an immense disappointment because he had to go to God empty-handed, with nothing done at all. It seemed to him at that moment that it would have been quite easy to have been a saint. It would only have needed a little self-restraint and a little courage. He felt like someone who has missed happiness by seconds at an appointed place. He knew now that at the end there was only one thing that counted -- to be a saint." (Penguin, NY, p. 211)

Friday, January 20, 2012 -- Week of 2 Epiphany, Year Two
Fabian, Bishop and Martyr of Rome, 250

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 945)
Psalms 31 (morning) 35 (evening)
Genesis 11:27 - 12:8
Hebrews 7:1-17
John 4:16-26

Today we begin the great saga of Abraham, the father of nations. In an act of great trust, Abraham follows his sense of God's direction and leaves his family and ancestral lands without knowing his final destination. Throughout Scripture, Abraham is a model of faith.

Faith is active trust. It is the willingness to take the next step in the direction of God, even when you don't know where you are going. This is the dominant meaning of the word faith. A lesser meaning -- "the faith" as in the content of belief or doctrine -- sometimes overwhelms this more relational and deeper sense of faith.

It is promised to the faithful one, Abraham, that God will make of him a great nation. Note the contrast with the story of the builders of the tower of Babel, who sought to make a name for themselves by their own selfish efforts. God says to Abraham, "in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed," a sentence that can as easily be translated "by you all the families of the earth shall bless themselves."

Some in our time have looked to Abraham as a possible source of understanding and reconciliation among Jews, Christians and Moslems. Each of these three great religions look to Abraham as their patriarch.

In today's Gospel from John, we have a story of reconciliation between two people divided by religion. Jesus is a Jew; he is speaking to a woman who is a Samaritan. Their religions and nations are divided by hostile animosity, though they share a common source from Abraham. The woman states one of the issues: Which is the correct mountain for God's worship? Mt. Zion or Mt. Gerizim? Jerusalem or Samaria? She raises a hot-topic question that has consumed political and religious debate for generations. Jesus rejects the framing of the question. The place is irrelevant, says Jesus, for God is Spirit. Worship God in Spirit and truth.

In Hebrews the writer seeks to open up the concept of priesthood beyond the narrow inherited line from Aaron and Levi. His metaphor is King Melchizedek, who in Genesis 14 befriended and blessed Abraham. Melchizedek is of a superior order of priests than Levi because he is not bound by time or by family. Hebrews sees Jesus' priesthood coming from this other ancient order.

All three of today's readings invite Christians and all other religious people to develop creative relationships toward one another in our different religious expressions. Recently some have called on the children of Abraham to unite together in relationships of peace to solve the deadly conflicts between Jew, Christian and Moslem. Those of us who come from the line of Abraham are given to be a blessing to the world, not conquerors and dominators. Wherever we see people walking with trust in the eternal, we are seeing Abraham's brothers and sisters, whether from the blood line of Abraham or from the eternal priesthood of Melchizedek unbounded by family and time. And whenever we see the expression of Spirit or truth from any mountain or from any tradition, we can acknowledge the living water of God that springs up from within all who drink from the water of the spirit.

Today walk in trusting faith like Abraham. Claim your eternal priesthood after the order of Melchizedek. Be open to God as Spirit, filling the whole world with living water, and drink from that Spirit that wells up from within you.

Monday, Janaury 23, 2012 -- Week of 3 Epiphany, Year Two
Phillips Brooks, Bishop of Massachusetts, 1893

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 945)
Psalms 41, 52 (morning) 44 (evening)
Genesis 14:(1-7)8-24
Hebrews 8:1-13
John 4:43-54

Word of Jesus' return to Cana in Galilee reached Capernaum, a town on the lake, about eighteen miles from Cana. A royal official traveled from Capernaum to Cana to see Jesus. This royal official would have had a position in the service of Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee who ruled there for forty-two years, including throughout Jesus' ministry. It was Herod Antipas who arrested and executed Jesus' cousin John the Baptist. John had publicly condemned Antipas for his marriage to his half-brother's wife. There is a place in Luke's gospel where a group of Pharisees warned Jesus that Herod Antipas was plotting to kill Jesus as well.

The encounter between the royal official and Jesus is interesting. One wonders if the official might have taken some risks in approaching Jesus on behalf of his dying son. Some among Jesus' group might have suspected some sort of trap. Is this official up to something that would lead to Jesus' arrest? Don't follow him back.

It turns out to be a legitimate request. The man's son is ill. Jesus honors his request, telling him, "Go; your son will live." It is important to John to say that the man "believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and started on his way." During the eighteen mile journey home, he was met by servants with the news that the child took a turn for the better at the hour of the conversation with Jesus.

Jesus does good without recourse to the relative merit, or lack of merit, of the royal official. He did not reject the man because he was a servant of Herod Antipas, despite the cruel treatment to John. Jesus did not lecture or correct the man, or demand that he cease his service to Antipas. Jesus did not refuse the heal the child because of the questionable status of the father. (That might be something to reflect on the next time a Christian legislator introduces a policy recommendation to restrict public medical or educational funds to children whose parents have immigrated here without having gone through the nearly impossible business of being legal about it.)

Amazing generosity. Jesus offers compassion to the royal official of Herod Antipas. He heals the man's child. How might that instruct us in the way we relate to those who misuse their power and authority? How might that inform us about our attitude toward our enemies?

P.S. I'll be taking off a couple of week from Speaking to the Soul. I'll be away meeting my new grandson.

Friday, February 10, 2012 -- Week of 5 Epiphany, Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 947)
Psalms 88 (morning) 91, 92 (evening)
Genesis 27:46 -- 28:4, 10-22
Romans 13:1-14
John 8:33-47

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed and those who resist will incur judgment. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Romans 13:1-3a

It is easy to understand these admonitions in the context of the early Church's life in the Roman Empire. As followers of one who was executed as a capital criminal and an enemy of the state, suspicion surrounded this new religious movement. Rome could be incredibly efficient and violent when dealing with those it regarded as enemies or conspirators. For the Church to survive, it had to convince the authorities that it was not a threat. To appeal to a wider audience, the Church could not be seen to be a seditious movement. Early Church leaders were at pains to convince those who might threaten them that they were not a threat to the governing authorities.

But in so many ways, the gospel that Paul preaches is a direct challenge to the empire and to the civil religion of emperor worship. Many of the fundamental claims of the Church directly confronted the claims of the emperor: Jesus is Lord. Jesus is Son of God. Coins and inscriptions throughout the Empire declared that the divine Caesar is Lord and Caesar is Son of God.

So on the one hand Paul offers these admonitions of respect for the authority of the empire and for Caesar, and on the other hand he leads an organization that undermines the claims of empire.

Paul is not naive. He know that innocent members of their community have been arrested, punished and occasionally executed as traitors of the state. He want to establish a prima facia case that the state has nothing to suspect from the Christian movement so that they won't be threatened and persecuted.

But these words -- instructing obedience to the state and presuming that governing authorities do God's work through their institutions for punishing bad conduct -- these words stand in contrast to so much of the rest of the Biblical witness. God called Moses to challenge the authority of Pharaoh and to lead the people into freedom. God raised up judges to liberate the people from oppressive powers. God anointed the prophets to speak truth to authority and to proclaim God's will for justice. Jesus proclaimed the kingdom of God -- what the world would be like if God reigned instead of Caesar, and Jesus was executed as a capital criminal and enemy of the state. Jesus stands forever as a testimony of God's triumphant peaceful challenge in the face of the violence of the powers and principalities.

Except as words of accommodation to threat, these messages from Paul about being subject to governing authorities cannot stand as immutable and timeless truths. Unfortunately they have been used historically to quell movements of freedom and to justify institutions of oppression. When liberal innovators began to argue on behalf of representative government and democracy, many Church leaders opposed them, using passages like these to invoke God's purpose on behalf of the Divine Right of Kings. (After all, you see only Biblical examples of monarchy, not of elected government.) The notion that a representative government should be of the people, by the people and for the people had to assert itself in the face of many Biblical proof texts when monarchy was the tradition and the norm. George Washington and the founders of our nation appealed to a higher authority and to more fundamental rights when they resisted Royal authority in the name of God.

More than a few conflicts have pitted Biblical proof texts and traditional practice against more universal values and the higher calling of justice and liberation. Slaves, democrats, women, and gay people stand in a notable tradition among those who have challenged the traditional interpretation of scripture in the name of God.

The rock on which their challenge has stood is the rock that Paul shifts to right after his paragraph about being subject to the authorities. Paul echoes the Gospels, saying, "Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law."

Justice is love extended into the communal sphere. Whenever love and authority are in conflict, love trumps authority.

Now that is a revolutionary notion.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012 -- Week of 6 Epiphany, Year Two
Cyril and Methodius, Monk and Bishop, Missionaries to the Slavs, 869, 885

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 949)
Psalms 97, 99, [100] (morning) 94, 95 (evening)
Genesis 31:1-24
1 John 2:1-11
John 9:18-41

We are pretty messed up. Today's readings are reminders of how we bring conflict, division, jealousy, and sin into nearly everything we touch. Today we've got examples from work, religious fellowship, and even trying to do good.

The Jacob vs. Laban saga is a story of nasty, cut-throat business competition with an edge. Jacob has lots of qualities of a hard working entrepreneur; but his shrewd tactics are hard to justify. He sows some bitter seeds. Resentment and conflict are inevitable byproducts of this bitter relationship between two relatives who are dishonest with one another. This is one of those stories where there are no good guys. Yet underneath it all is the reminder that God is working even through these compromised means to bring about blessing for humanity.

In 1st John we face the reality that even among those who have embraced the ethic and community of Jesus, there is animosity and bitterness, disobedience and failure. But, "the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining." (1 John 2:8b)

The gospel lesson is so sad and frustrating. It is a metaphor for our many blindnesses. Jesus heals a man who was born blind. The conventional wisdom (and theological orthodoxy) said that when a child is born blind it is God's judgment for sin. There was an argument whether it was for the sin of the parents or the child. But, the curse of being born blind is obvious enough, so there must be a cause, they reasoned. Nevertheless, Jesus heals him. But... he did so on the sabbath, an obvious violation of one the Ten Commandments.

So, the religious authorities are in a bind. The Pharisees are good people. They are the ones charged with the responsibility of teaching and promoting religious life and principles. Giving sight to the blind seems like a good thing, but no one following God through the revealed law of the scriptures would do such work during the holy rest of the sabbath! Scandal. Yet, it is a wonderful miracle. They are in a quandary. They investigate. As they consider the situation, it seems to them that this man born blind ("You were born entirely in sins!") tries to lecture them. Their cultural conditioning prevails, and they lash out in contempt. Their religious scruples have blinded them to the goodness in front of them. The irony is pretty obvious -- the blind man sees; the supposedly enlightened are blind.

What a mess! How about us? Where does jealousy and competition stain our work? In what ways do we fail to live up to the ideals we have embraced? How do we get stuck and fail to see the good because it comes outside our theologies?

Yes, we're pretty messed up. But God works even through Jacob and Laban, through blindnesses of all kinds, and "the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining." (1 John 2:8b)

Wednesday, February 15, 2012 -- Week of 6 Epiphany, Year Two
Thomas Bray, Priest and Missionary, 1730

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 949)
Psalms 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30 (morning) 119:121-144 (evening)
Genesis 31:25-50
1 John 2:12-17
John 10:1-18

The image of Jesus the Good Shepherd is among the most beloved and pastoral we have. We adorn our church nurseries and children's areas with pictures of Jesus caring for the lambs. At times when I have felt particularly vulnerable, I have turned to the shepherd image of Jesus, the strong protector, and felt myself embraced, guarded and sheltered.

But there is another traditional way that we might read and hear today's familiar passage about the Good Shepherd (from John 10). In the scripture and in other ancient literature, shepherd imagery was often used for human rulers, for kings and emperors.

In Ezekiel 34 the prophet famously prophesies against the shepherds of Israel -- leaders who have been feeding themselves and becoming fat and rich while the sheep have suffered. "You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fatlings; but you do not feed the sheep. You have not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back the strayed, you have not sought the lost, but with force and harshness you have ruled them." (Ezekiel 34:3f) Ezekiel insists that these leaders, these bad shepherds, must be replaced. They will be scattered, exiled. Jeremiah also prophecies against the rulers, speaking of the shepherds who are stupid and who do not inquire of God. (10:21)

We also have Biblical images of good leaders who care for their flock. David is the shepherd who moves from caring for the flock to becoming the good king and leader. And Micah (5:2) looks forward to a Messianic ruler from Bethlehem-Ephratah who will be called "shepherd of my people."

When Jesus names himself the "Good Shepherd," it might have been heard as a very political statement. When Jesus speaks of himself as the Good Shepherd, he may have in mind a challenge similar to the metaphor of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God is how the world would be if God were ruler, and not Caesar or Herod. The Good Shepherd is the caring and benevolent leader, who protects the sheep, guards the vulnerable and heals the hurt. Jesus the Good Shepherd is an image a godly ruler, a challenge and contrast to Caesar or Herod. The image of the Good Shepherd is also a challenge to our contemporary leaders -- our elected representatives and other governmental officials. Ezekiel's accusation against the shepherds of Israel could also apply to many of our own leaders today.

Jesus called on his disciples to exercise their leadership as servants, and he gave them the example of himself, as leader, washing their feet as a slave might.

Today is the commemoration of Thomas Bray, an English country parson who became active in many public ways. He had oversight for the Church's work in the colony of Maryland, where he promoted education and literacy and expressed compassionate concern for Native Americans and Blacks, particularly slaves. He made prison reform a major issue, influencing public opinion on behalf of the misery of inmates. He organized Sunday "Beef and Beer" dinners in the prisons. Bray is credited with inspiring General Oglethorpe to found a humanitarian colony of Georgia to give honest debtors another chance.

One of my colleagues, Roger Joslin, vicar of All Saints', Bentonville, has recently been doing some Good Shepherd work in Benton County, Arkansas, in the spirit of Thomas Bray. The Benton County sheriff is rather proud of the fact that the jail serves no hot food to their prison population. Roger has challenged that practice. He's pointed out that many in jail are only accused, officially innocent until proven guilty. And even the guilty deserve humane treatment and nutritious food.

The scriptures invite us to hold our leaders accountable as servants, as good shepherds, benevolent leaders who strengthen the weak, heal the sick, bind up the injured, bring back the strayed, seek the lost or ghettoed -- good shepherds who care for the flock rather than becoming fat and powerful themselves, attending to the interests of the fat and powerful.

When Jesus says "I am the Good Shepherd" he throws down a gauntlet to every ruler or authority. And he gives us all an example of how we exercise whatever power or authority we may have in our own home or work or among our friends.

Friday, February 17, 2012 -- Week of 6 Epiphany, Year Two
Janani Luwum, Archbishop of Uganda and Martyr, 1977

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 949)
Psalms 102 (morning) 107:1-32 (evening)
Genesis 32:22 - 33:17
1 John 3:1-10
John 10:31-42

By this time in our Genesis narrative, Jacob has been assured and reassured of God's intention to bless him. His blessing had been pronounced by his father Isaac. Early in his sojourn he experienced a mystical insight in a dream. He has enjoyed the blessing of children and wealth in his conflicted relationship with Laban. Even Laban said he was warned by God not to harm Jacob because God had blessed Jacob.

But Jacob has never really trusted God. He has always made his own way, usually by cunning -- willing to cheat, lie or deceive to advance his cause. His own self-serving strategies have alienated some of those closest to him.

He now finds himself caught by the consequences of his life's pattern. When he recognized that Laban and his sons were showing signs of hostility toward him, Jacob stole away with his wives and possessions. He escaped a potentially violent showdown and made a truce between them, marking a boundary, like a demilitarized zone. He got away from one enemy he had made. But now, he must face his brother Esau, the one whose birthright he stole. Twenty years ago, the last words we heard from Esau were, "I will kill my brother Jacob."

Jacob still does not trust God's blessing. When he hears Esau is nearby with 400 men, he panics. He divides his party into two parts, hoping one will escape if Esau attacks. He begins sending flocks of livestock ahead, as if to purchase his brother's good will. Then he spends a fevered, restless night alone, wrestling with a stranger. At daybreak, it seems that he is prevailing, when the man displaces Jacob's hip. Jacob still holds on, demanding a blessing. The man renames him "Israel," meaning "The one who strives with God" or "God strives." Jacob asks for the stranger's name. That will not be given. But Jacob is blessed (again), and realizes it is God with whom he has been wrestling.

And Esau? Big ole Esau. He had no devious or violent intentions. He let go of the past long ago. He embraces his long departed brother with affection and tears. Esau has enough, and doesn't need more. Apparently it had not crossed Jacob's mind that some people are not like him.

So there is reconciliation. And Jacob restores the birthright blessing he had wrongly taken saying to Esau, "Please accept my gift." The word for gift is "berakah"; the same word for "blessing." And though Esau is willing to stay with Jacob and live with him, graciously (or maybe warily, ever suspicious), Jacob finds a place to settle some distance away. If Jacob has actually matured, it could be that Jacob modestly creates the distance as a consequence of his earlier betrayal.

Now it is time for Jacob to trust God. He doesn't have to scheme and conspire to make his way, but that has been the story of his life. His strivings have marked his character and left some mixed consequences in their wake. But God's blessing has never left him.

Some of us catch on quickly. For others it takes a while. God loves us. God intends blessing for us. Yes, life is difficult and unsettled. Bad things do happen to good people. But God's blessing is ever present upon us. God doesn't lose patience. If it takes a whole life before we learn to trust, God will wait and even wrestle with us. But the blessing and the love is secure. Always.

Tuesday, February 21. 2012 -- Week of Last Epiphany, Year Two
Shrove Tuesday / Mardi Gras
John Henry Newman, Priest and Theologian, 1890

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 951)
Psalms 26, 28 (morning) 36, 39 (evening)
Proverbs 30:1-4, 24-33
Philippians 3:1-11
John 18:28-38

Reminder: Our Shrove Tuesday event starts tonight at 5:30. Cajun fare and/or pancakes. Great entertainment from our youth. A fund-raiser for our diocesan camp for mentally-physically challenged. $15/adults; $10/youth; $50/family max. We'll burn last year's palm branches at the end of the evening (around 7:30).

I have a former teacher who served for awhile as the priest-visitor for a convent of nuns. Part of his work was to offer the sacrament of reconciliation (confession) from time to time. After one visit, he complained tongue-in-cheek, "Listening to the confessions of a convent of nuns is like being stoned with marshmallows."

It is usually true that those who have made great progress along the spiritual path, who have disciplined themselves so that they rarely commit such sins as trouble the rest of us, are also more fully aware of their own darkness and of their own inner shadows.

Paul reveals something crucial about himself in today's passage from Philippians. He got to that place of outward, observable moral perfection. His zealousness for the law was such that he mastered his behavior. He was able to follow all of the laws that defined righteousness in the Biblical tradition of Judaism. "As to righteousness under the law," he asserts that he was "blameless." I wish I could say the same for myself.

But Paul found that his upstanding morality did not bring him peace, but rather anxiety. Elsewhere he describes it like death. He was perpetually anxious. He lived with chronic performance anxiety. Am I doing right? I dare not fail.

When I was growning up, they took careful attendance at Sunday School. Anyone who had perfect attendance got a perfect attendance pin, presented with appropriate fanfare in church at the end of the school term. Such pins could accumulate with consecutive bars that attached to the first year's pin. Several of my friends had rows of perfect attendance bars hanging from their first year's pin. One particularly disciplined and compliant classmate began to enter junior high school with eight years of perfect attendance pins. It was a terrible pressure, a deadly weight to bear. The obnoxious and motivating pride of accomplishment had long left her. Now she lived in simple dread -- the burden of living up to the perfect chain or the burden of inevitable failure. The one way out would be to make it to high school with the string attached. Then she could successfully graduate from Sunday School, very possibly never to return, finally freed of such a burden.

Paul found liberation as a gift when he discovered that he did not have to perform to be accepted by God. In Christ he discovered that his acceptance, his complete righteousness, was a gift. No strings of accomplishment attached. In Christ he discovered freedom. Christ is God's message of acceptance. Love before and behind. Forgiveness freely given. Blessing always.

When Paul realized that, he threw away the perfect attendance pin like it was rubbish. He died to his compulsive legalism. He experienced resurrection.

Now he could simply be. His being was accepted. Filled with gratefulness for such liberating love, he found new motivation for his behavior. Because he had been so completely loved, he was free to love others. He was able graciously to accept the uncircumcised outsiders and to be lenient about their scruples and superstitious over meat sacrificed to idols. He could welcome slaves and women as equals. He could insist on the preeminence of grace over legalism.

"I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection" he exclaims. That's Sunday School come alive.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012 -- Week of Last Epiphany, Year Two
Ash Wednesday

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 951)
Psalms 95* & 32, 143 (morning) 102, 130 (evening)
Amos 5:6-15
Hebrews 12:1-14
Luke 18:9-14 *for the Invitatory

"Happy are they whose transgressions are forgiven and whose sin is put away!" (Psalm 32:1)

These are the words from the psalmist to open our readings today. Ash Wednesday is a good day. A day of penitence, when sin is put away.

"I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to God.' Then you forgave me the guilt of my sin." (Ps. 32:6)

Our gospel story gives us a picture of one who knows his weakness, failure and brokenness. "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" says the tax collector, standing by himself in alienation in the holy temple. He will leave that place and return to the same corrupt work tomorrow that is his guilty burden today. Yet, Jesus tells his listeners that this tax collector "went down to his home justified." He was restored to a right relationship to God, whether he realized it or not.

During our worship today, we will pray one of our tradition's most powerful compositions of self-knowledge and confession, the Litany of Penitence (Prayer Book, p. 267). No one can read the words of the Litany consciously and not be struck to the heart. "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" "Happy are they whose transgressions are forgiven and whose sin is put away!"

The Pharisee of our gospel reading is a man who has given his life to God, in discipline and thanksgiving. He prays gratefully that he has found this way of virtue and good living. But his pride blocks him from the justification that he assumes. When he looks at others and compares himself, he breaks the seamless garment that is God's compassionate relationship and presence with all humanity.

Amos also reminds us of the corporate aspect of our call. We are not called simply as individuals to avoid sin and be a person of high morals. We are called to pursue justice as a society and nation, to "establish justice in the gate." Amos decries the nation for being unresponsive to the needs of the poor while the wealthy live at ease. He condemns the bribes that the powerful use to advance their interests while the needy are ignored. Imagine what Amos would say to our American system of lobbying and influence peddling. These are sins that he insists we address before the Lord can possibly "be gracious to the remnant of Joseph."

Ash Wednesday is a day when we are called to a solemn fast. We are to look at ourselves with conscious penitence. We are to confess, and to know our forgiveness. We are to take responsibility for our corporate brokenness and injustice. And we are to commit our selves to a new way, the disciplines of individual goodness and corporate reform.

Hebrews seeks to inspire us in that discipline. "Lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet... Pursue peace with everyone, and the holiness without which no one will see the Lord."

We begin this day like the tax collector, seeking God's mercy. Happily we embrace Lent's call to discipline -- to prayer, fasting and almsgiving. These are the tools that the Church commends to us for the healing of our souls and healing of the world's injustice.

"Happy are they whose transgressions are forgiven and whose sin is put away!"

Friday, February 24, 2012 -- Lent
Saint Matthias the Apostle

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)
EITHER the readings for Friday of Week of Last Epiphany, p. 951
Psalms 95* & 31 (morning) 35 (evening)
Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32
Philippians 4:1-9
John 17:9-19

OR the readings for St. Matthias, p. 997
Morning: Psalm 80; 1 Samuel 16:1-13; 1 John 2:18-25
Evening: Psalm 33; 1 Samuel 12:1-5; Acts 20:17-35

I chose the readings for Friday of Last Epiphany

"The Lord is near." What a gentle encouragement. Much of the intention of the many prayer disciplines is to create in us a constant sense of God's presence. Classical spirituality calls it "recollection" -- the state of being constantly aware of God and responsive to God's presence. Some use the word "mindfulness". A gentle reminder -- "the Lord is near" -- repeated over and over can help plant a mindful consciousness within us. Some people repeat the Jesus Prayer or some other mantra for that purpose.

I love the way that phrase "the Lord is near" is nestled within Paul's beautiful hymn that we read today. "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your request be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

That's my wife's favorite passage of scripture. It is one that she memorized as a child. I think I too can say it "by heart." It is good to take the time to memorize such truths. We say we know them by heart. They dwell in our hearts. When you have prayed certain prayers for many years, you know them by heart. Like the Lord's Prayer. In a deep sense, these words of God dwell within us when we know them by heart.

I intend to make it a habit today to recall over and over again "the Lord is near." And then, every once in a while, when I'm not having to concentrate, I'm going to try to repeat by heart Paul's beautiful words, "Rejoice in the Lord always..." Doing little exercises like that is a way of following Paul's advice in the subsequent passage. He tells us to think about certain things -- "whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." Remembering "the Lord is near" is a brief way of doing all of this.
______

P.S. Today's passage in Ezekiel is an important one. Ezekiel challenges an old tradition that punishment is passed on for the sins of previous generations. Jeremiah has a similar opinion (Jer. 31:29-30). Their words dispute the traditions from the Ten Commandments and elsewhere, "...punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the third and fourth generation..." (Ex. 20:5)

Monday, February 27, 2012 -- Week of 1 Lent
George Herbert, Priest, 1633

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 953)
Psalms 41, 52 (morning) 44 (evening)
Genesis 37:1-11
1 Corinthians 1:1-19
Mark 1:1-13

We enter the Daily Office Lectionary for Lent today. Each of the three readings begins a period of sequential reading from scripture. Today we begin the Joseph saga in Genesis. We also start Paul's first letter to the church in Corinth, and we open the first gospel, the Gospel of Mark.

Joseph's story begins ominously. He's the special child -- the youngest and favorite. There are signs that he is precocious and gifted, but naive and spoiled as well. His self-centered dream images provoke his family. We can feel the jealousy take root.

Mark's gospel begins with a special child -- "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God" -- but we get no birth narrative as in Matthew and Luke. It begins with the "voice of one crying out in the wilderness." But this story begins in humility rather than jealousy. John the baptizer looks forward to God's fulfillment of the baptism that John initiates. And Jesus receives a vision that he is a father's beloved, but instead of the naive gloating of Joseph, he intuitively follows the leading of the Spirit into the wilderness for a time of testing about this calling.

Paul's letter will be all about the complexities of being the beloved, called children of God -- a gifted and special people. But with those gifts comes responsibilities. How do we use the wisdom and freedom we've been given? Will pride or power spoil the gifts?

The people I admire and look up to are people who seem very special. They have gifts and talents that seem wonderful and remarkable to me. But when I look a little closer, the best of them seem almost unaware of their giftedness. What they do just seems like what they should be doing. For them, it's no big deal. It's nothing special. And the best of them betray very little self-consciousness about their wisdom or leadership. They are just doing the work they've been given to do.

Each of us is a special child. Beloved and gifted. How will we use our gifts? Reflectively after a time of testing and intention, or thoughtlessly with an immature naivete? In service or selfishness? In pride or humility? Over each of us has been spoken the divine blessing -- "You are my Child, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." Now, what will we do with that?

Tuesday, February 28, 2012 - Week of 1 Lent
Anna Julia Haywood Cooper and Elizabeth Evelyn Wright, Educators, 1964, 1904

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 953)
Psalms 45 (morning) 47, 48 (evening)
Genesis 37:12-24
1 Corinthians 1:20-31
Mark 1:14-28

"For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength." (1 Cor. 1:25a)

Paul addresses head-on the obstacle that makes his proclamation difficult for many to believe -- the cross. Why would anyone worship someone who was executed as a capital criminal? It's like someone today saying our God died in an electric chair. The Rabbis will tell you that the scripture says "cursed be any one who hangs on a tree." (Dt. 21:23) The cross is the Roman solution to threat to order from rebels and insurrection. Some Greeks will speak of the impassibility of God. Why would anyone worship a God who is subject to the vicissitudes of human life? God should not suffer? God is beyond change. God on a cross. Scandal and foolishness.

But among those who were not "wise by human standards" or "of noble birth," among "the weak" and the "low and despised," this story that God enters into our deepest despair and pain and overcomes it is "wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption." It flips on its ear the elitist projections about God. God is with us in our most desperate times. God soaks up evil and violence; God endures injustice and cruelty; God experiences pain and abandonment -- and God answers with nothing but love.

Dorothy Sayers says it nicely: "God did not abolish the fact of evil. He transformed it. He did not stop the crucifixion. He rose from the dead."

For those who are looking for a powerful, triumphant tribal Lord who overcomes our enemies with might and violence, this weak God looks foolish. For those who are looking for some pure heavenly escape from the change and sufferings of this world, this vulnerable God looks foolish. But for those of us who are weak and low, in despair and pain, this is a God who understands. This is a God we can trust because God knows what we are suffering. This God gives meaning to suffering. And when you are miserable, it makes all the difference if you believe that God is with us and that God uses our human misery to heal the world. It is the wise foolishness of the cross.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012 - Week of 1 Lent
John Cassian, Abbot at Marseilles, 433

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 953)
Psalms 119:49-72 (morning) 49, [52] (evening)
Genesis 37:25-36
1 Corinthians 2:1-13
Mark 1:29-45

In Mark's Gospel today we see a snapshot of a day in the ministry of Jesus. It begins on Saturday, the Sabbath, when Jesus and the disciples attend worship and teaching at the synagogue in Capernaum. They come to Peter's home, where Peter's mother is ill. Jesus heals her and she serves them. (The Greek word for serve, "diakonein," is the root of our term "deacon.") When the Sabbath ends at sundown Jesus begins his work.

The ministry of Jesus is characterized by healing and teaching. His power is particularly manifest in the casting out of demons. People who are broken or suffering, people who have lost their center or their congruity -- find that in his presence they experience wholeness and health, meaning, congruity and centeredness.

In the morning, Jesus withdraws for his own intimate prayer with God. He is renewed in his centeredness upon God. He continues to move from place to place, even though there are more people who need his healing in Capernaum. He goes to the neighboring towns, he says, "so that I may proclaim the message there also." Healing and teaching.

The center of the teaching-message that he proclaims is the Kingdom of God, the near and inbreaking reign of God. It is a message that is threatening to the established authorities. It is threatening to the religious authorities because Jesus teaches that there is no external mediator between God and us. The gifts of blessing, forgiveness and divine presence are ours without need of recourse to the Temple or priests or other authorities. The Kingdom of God is among you. His message is threatening to the political authorities because it imagines the world as it would be if God were Emperor, not Caesar. He teaches of a society, culture and economy motivated by the virtues of compassion, love, generosity and equality -- a society that overturns all of the power and authority of the established orders. It is the kind of message that can get somebody in trouble with the established orders.

Teaching and healing. Word and sacrament. Religious/political discourse and hands-on service to the needs of others. Walking the talk.

That is the calling that we are invited to enter into as the church, the community of Jesus. We are to continue his message of forgiveness and freedom. And we are to continue to reach out in concrete and real ways to respond to the brokenness and need of our neighbors. Talking is not enough. Doing good without challenging the power and principalities is not enough.

In our reading from Paul's second letter to the Corinthians, we hear him speak of the spirit that empowers his ministry of healing and teaching. He has embraced the cross. He has died into Christ's death and been raised in a new life in the Spirit. This new life makes him bold to do and to teach. His orientation is no longer toward "a wisdom of this age or the rulers of this age, who are doomed to perish," but God's wisdom. God's very Spirit is now present in and through him -- motivating him to follow in the way Jesus has shown: to heal and bring wholeness and congruity to all human brokenness, and to proclaim a new Kingdom ruled by the virtues of compassion, love, generosity and equality.

That is our calling today. Religious/political discourse and hands-on service to the needs of others.

Lowell

Monday, March 5, 2012 -- Week of 2 Lent

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 953)
Psalms 56, 57, [58] (morning) 64, 65 (evening)
Genesis 41:46-57
1 Corinthians 4:8-20(21)
Mark 3:7-19a

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

I write a column in our regional newspaper, and this email/blog goes out to a varied public. From time to time I comment about political actions that I wish our government would take. I often express a desire that our society organize our economic and political resources on behalf of relief for the poor and vulnerable. I often implore elected officials to act for the creation of a more equitable society, and to urge the promotion of a system of social and economic justice that would create a nation and a world where everyone would have enough, not from charity, but as a product of the way the system is put together. I often see the federal government as an instrument for accomplishing these goals in our nation.

One of the most frequent critiques I receive is that I should not expect government to carry out ideals and programs that are rightly the responsibility of individuals and of the church. I am told that Jesus and the scriptures do not address political or governmental solutions to inequality or economic injustice. I am told that governmental programs are the problem, not the solution. Some conscientious writers tell me that social and economic ills are rightly addressed by individual hearts moved by the Biblical witness and by churches carrying out their mandate for service and outreach. Recently an earnest Christian neighbor emailed to tell me he knows of nowhere in the Bible, in the commandments of God or in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, that support my interpretations about economic justice and security.

Today we have a story of God's wisdom being exercised through Joseph to create an enormous federal program to organize the agricultural industry in order to prepare for a famine that the federal bureaucrat Joseph predicts. Joseph advises Pharaoh to nationalize a large portion of the surplus production during seven years of plenty and to put the excess grain in government storehouses until the coming time of famine. It is a form of heavy taxation during a windfall in order to provide for the needs of the future. (I think of the inevitable cycles of boom and bust in a capitalistic society, and the resulting spikes of unemployment and insecurity.)

God directs Joseph to provide for the needs of society through wise government, mandating the cooperation of citizens and business for the benefit of all. I think God expects such wise leadership from us today as well.

The powers of government -- Pharaoh -- can be used for good or for ill. In scripture we have Pharaoh following divine guidance and saving people from famine, including foreigners like Joseph's estranged family who will come to Egypt for their survival, and we have Pharaoh oppressing God's people by demanding increased economic productivity that becomes a form of oppression of laborers. God will call Moses to lead an economic protest, boycott and strike against the unjust labor policies that favor the powerful and wealthy over the weak and poor common workers. There is a lot of politics and business happening in these divine concerns.

The prophets regularly addressed the leaders of government and business. They spoke in God's name on behalf of the creation of a just and righteous social system. Their expectation: that every person would have enough, and that excessive pride and luxury be diminished in a spirit of solidarity with one's neighbor.

That's not just politics and economics. That's your Bible, your religion, and your relationship with God too.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012 -- Week of 2 Lent
William W. Mayo, Charles F. Menninger, and Their Sons, Pioneers in Medicine, 1911, 1953

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 953)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) 68:1-20(21-23)24-36 (evening)
Genesis 42:1-17
1 Corinthians 5:1-8
Mark 3:19b-35

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today we have Paul at his strictest, apparently least compassionate moment as far as we know from his writings. A member of the congregation has been living in a sexual relationship with his stepmother, a violation of both the scripture and Roman Law. Paul does not hesitate. Remove this man from among you; "hand this man over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved; ...clean out the old yeast so that you may be a new batch."

It is important to know that Paul sees the Church as a new creation, a liberated community entirely different and separate from the reality of the world of sin and death. But we don't see him advising a sectarian separation out of the world. In fact, he is rather nonchalant about the outside world of things. He tells his congregation -- Eat meat sacrificed to idols from the public market, unless it will hurt the conscience of your weaker brother. Don't divorce your unbelieving spouse unless the other wishes you to. Pay your taxes. Don't withdraw from society. In tomorrow's reading he will express no problem with associating with immoral persons who are outside the church. But, within the church, he expects more.

Paul is dogged in his defense of the community of the church. The church is a new quality of existence, and he insists on keeping the quality of that life pure within the community. The new community lives in a new way, and the qualities of the outside world are not to enter into the relationships of the church. If someone fails to live into that quality, "restore him in a spirit of gentleness" (Gal. 6:1) through correction and teaching. But, as in this extreme case, if that doesn't work, do not allow what exists in the world to enter into the church. The church is not prohibited from entering the world; the world is prohibited from entering the church, says Paul.

Paul believes that Christians live in a new community. It is better, truer, more authentic life than that of the outside culture of sin and death. He will go to great lengths to maintain that new reality.

Part of that reality is that there is no elitism within the community. Your life in Christ is a sheer gift. No one can earn it. Therefore our only ground for boasting is in the love God has given to us. Paul also rejects any judgment of people outside. He'll say that in tomorrow's reading. That's important. We're not elitists toward the world either.

Paul asks us to walk a fine line between two unacceptable extremes. One line is a clear distinction between Christian reality and the worldly reality -- we are not to live within the Church as people do outside the Church. The other line is a strict prohibition -- the Church is not to create a Christian elitism or a sectarian separation from the world.

For those of us in more progressive, mainline traditions, we tend to fall into the error of blurring the distinction between the quality of life within the church and the values of the outside world. For those of us in more evangelical or fundamentalists traditions, we tend to exhibit the opposite error of Christian elitism or even imperialism.

There is a new reality that Paul calls us to, a new community in Christ. God's forgiveness and acceptance is the creative act that frees us from the inauthentic life of trying to be accepted or to struggling to survive in the world of law and performance. In Christ, we are free to be ourselves, our true selves without compulsion. We are free to act for others, to live for others, because we have been given everything. Living in this new community is our inheritance, and Paul expects us to protect it.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012 -- Week of 2 Lent
Perpetua and her Companions, Martyrs at Carthage, 202

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 953)
Psalms 72 (morning) 119:73-96 (evening)
Genesis 42:18-28
1 Corinthians 5:9 - 6:8
Mark 4:1-20

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

The parable of the sower and the seed seems to me like a description of my own interior landscape.

God is always pouring loving grace into me, sowing seeds of divine presence and energy.

But I have hard places -- old paths of habits, the hardened ground of repeated behavior and thought, resisting being broken up enough to allow the new seed to enter.

And I have thin and rocky soil -- times when I receive the grace of insight or call with initial enthusiasm, but I don't have the patient discipline to allow it to take root and become established. When stress and pressure mounts, I revert to my old self-centered ways.

And some of God's good desire for me I choke with "the cares of the world, and the lure of wealth, and the desire for other things."

But that's not all. I do have some good soil. I have heard and nurtured the word and grace of God, and it has born fruit. Sometimes I catch on, and wonderfully good things happen. I can and do participate in God's work. When that happens, it is the source of my greatest gratitude.

Sister Joan Chittister has said, "We are each called to go through life reclaiming the planet an inch at a time until the Garden of Eden grows green again."

That metaphor works for our personal landscape also. Each day when we pray, we invite the Spirit to plow a little deeper, to break up another inch of psychic soil. Every act of contrition and confession is our willingness to put the shovel into our hardened ground and open it to the spiritual water and light that brings life. Every act of forgiveness is our willingness to pick up a rock and cast it away so that it no longer burdens the seed of God's living. Every intercession and every act of kindness is a reclaiming of an adjacent inch of the planet, inviting the healing energies of the sun/Son.

The amazing thing is how much God can do with so little. It only takes an inch of soil here and and inch of soil there for God to create "thirty and sixty and a hundredfold." God is so encouraging. Every once in a while I visit with someone who knows what God has done with a particularly hard or thorny place in their life. The gratitude and amazement is palpable.

Spring is beginning eternally. Spiritual growth, like organic growth, has its times and its seasons. Every day is a day when we can reclaim an inch of the planet, including an inch of our own psychological and spiritual territory. All it takes is a little turning. God gives the seed. The living waters and the eternal light bless the whole. Slowly, mysteriously, from the dark rooted depths emerges new life. With just a bit of protection it will grow and produce great fruit to feed a hungry world and to scatter seeds of future possibility. An inch at a time.

Friday, March 9, 2012 -- Week of 2 Lent
Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa, c. 394

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 953)
Psalms 95* & 69:1-23(24-30)31-38 (morning) 73 (evening)
Genesis 43:1-15
1 Corinthians 7:1-9
Mark 4:35-41 *for the Invitatory

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Athletes talk about being "in the zone." I remember a period of about three weeks one summer when I got into the zone playing tennis. I could see the ball as it approached my competitor's racket, I seemed to know where he would hit it, and I would begin to lean that direction. When the ball left his racket it seemed to do so in slower motion. I saw it so clearly -- the spin, the direction, the speed. I moved almost without effort to where I would meet the ball. Though I might be running, it had a floating quality, it seemed. As the ball got close to me it seemed to slow down. I had plenty of time to think how and where I might want to hit it. Sometimes I didn't think, I just let my body hit the ball. I could hit it as hard as I wanted. The ball would skim right over the net and go right where I had aimed, or not aimed -- just let it go. I could place the ball near lines. And it was all so effortless. There was a lightness and bounce to everything, and a rush of delight with each shot. I made very few unforced errors, and those were usually when I got to "thinking about it" and tried to force something instead of just going with the ball. My tennis partner on the other side of the net was struggling, sweating, working his hardest and having little to show for it, and I was floating joyfully. I felt a little sheepish, I was playing so well so easily, and he was pretty miserable.

As I read the gospel lesson today, it struck me that Jesus was in the zone, asleep in the boat as the windstorm threatens to capsize them. The disciples awaken him, and he speaks peace to the storm. And there was calm.

That peaceful, centered Jesus-presence is always within us. There is the core part of us that is always "in the zone," one with God and at peace. When I am experiencing chaos, when I feel threatened or anxious, when everything seems to be flying apart, there is within me that centered place of divine presence. The trick is, will I go there? Will I look at Jesus -- the peace, love and compassion -- or will I look at the chaos and threat? Or, as I look at the chaos and threat, will I look at it in the consciousness of being one with Christ? When I do that, things seem to slow down. They don't seem so threatening. I am able to react, to respond more consciously, less anxiously. I can just go with it. Letting the circumstances be, and responding naturally, in the moment. Sometimes things just happen -- they straighten out before my eyes. My fears don't materialize; they evaporate. Or sometimes the thing I dreaded actually happens, and it's not so bad. Or if it is truly bad, there is grace that comes forth from it.

In the middle of all of our storms, when we are threatened with capsizing and drowning, there is a pure presence of peace. Christ is with us. Christ is in us. Sometimes all it takes is for us to awaken to that presence.

Monday, March 12, 2012 -- Week of 3 Lent
Gregory the Great of Rome, 604

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 954)
Psalms 80 (morning) 77, [79] (evening)
Genesis 44:18-34
1 Corinthians 7:25-31
Mark 5:21-43

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

"I have no command of the Lord, but I give my opinion as one who by the Lord's mercy is trustworthy." (1 Corinthians 7:25)

Paul distinguishes the level of authority that he will claim for his convictions. Some things he is certain have been divinely revealed to him. His interpretation of his vision of Jesus on the Damascus road is something he will speak of with the kind of authority that Jesus and the prophets used, equivalent to "Thus says the Lord." He knew in that experience that he had been liberated from his self-justification project. He was certain that Jesus had freed him from trying to earn his place before God. He was convinced that he had been declared blessed, justified, saved, okay, and that the divine declaration was a sheer gift. He no longer had to perform to be accepted. He was accepted by God -- grace: pure gift, no strings attached.

Whenever anyone tried to compromise Paul's certainty about all of that, Paul reacted unequivocally. Would you propose to enforce some law as a prerequisite for acceptance? No! Would you require circumcision as a sign of one's belonging and obedience? Never! Paul spoke with zealous passion about these things. Yet even over these certainties, Paul could bend compassionately in his willingness to live in community. If his neighbor's scruples were troubled by dietary anxieties over the meat from the public market, meat sacrificed to idols, even though Paul knew their fears and insecurities were groundless, out of kindness Paul would refrain from exercising his freedom when dining with them. Loving regard for the other trumps doctrinal certainties.

But Paul does not regard everything that he believes equally. He knows that God revealed to him directly the gift of acceptance. He will let no one compromise or diminish that truth from God. Yet that still leaves a host of things that good people may disagree about. Even though many of those disagreements concern important things.

Paul is pretty sure that Christ will return soon and establish a new age where old relationships and structures will be transcended. Paul structures his whole life around that conviction. But that is not something that has been revealed to him in the same way as his justification by faith.

So when he offers his advice to those who are making long-term decisions in what Paul interprets to be a short-term circumstance, Paul is glad to advise them. He thinks he's right. But he's willing to say, this is my opinion, I might be wrong. I think I'm trustworthy, so I hope you'll take my advice. But only God knows for sure.

As it turned out, Paul was wrong. Jesus did not return. The time that he thought would be short was not. He was sure that "the present form of this world is passing away," but that didn't happen in quite the way he had thought it would.

Yet, below that place where good people could disagree -- is the end near or might it be far away -- there was a deeper shared truth and trust in God. Whether short or long, we are God's beloved -- accepted by God's grace as a sheer gift. There's something about that conviction that gives us a radical freedom. A freedom to be generous to those with whom we disagree. A freedom to be wrong and not obsess about it. A freedom to give your opinion and not be too attached to it. A freedom to watch someone do something you believe is wrong, and remain loving friends with them in community.

I write stuff nearly every weekday morning. I've got lots of opinions, beliefs and convictions. I almost always think I'm right about these things, or I wouldn't write them. But for most of what I write, "I have no command of the Lord, but I give my opinion as one who by the Lord's mercy is trustworthy." But I may be wrong, you know.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012 -- Week of 3 Lent
James Theodore Holly, Bishop of Haiti, and of the Dominican Republic, 1911

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 955)
Psalms 78:1-39 (morning) 78:40-72 (evening)
Genesis 45:1-15
1 Corinthians 7:32-40
Mark 6:1-13

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

"I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve life."

From time to time I meet people who share stories of great loss and tragedy which has turned into blessing.

What Joseph's brothers did to him was horrible. To sell your own brother into slavery is unspeakable. Joseph suffered enormously. It would be hard to overestimate the grief and misery he endured. And yet, with the very present help of God and his own perseverance, the evil that was done to him became the catalyst for an unimaginable good. By the time he is reunited with his brothers, not only is forgiveness possible, but he can be grateful for the evil circumstance that produced such blessing. It is the means for his family's survival from famine.

I've heard that Joseph story over and over from other people. Our congregation heard a similar story when Paula D'Arcy visited us and shared her journey from death to life, from darkness to light. In her twenties an automobile accident took the life of her husband and her child, leaving her injured physically and spiritually. She was also pregnant. Through the struggle of depression and survival she experienced the reality of God in such a profound way that she looks back at that accident today and would not change history if she could. That humbles and amazes me.

I've known people who have lost relationships, jobs and dreams only to find that their loss became the means for an experience of freedom that opened a door to unimagined new possibilities.

I've also met people whose circumstances have broken them. Sometimes we experience loss so profound that its wounds will not heal. Some people will carry lifelong bitterness and resentment.

What is the difference? I want to take care not to be facile here, for some tragedies can break us, and none of us can judge another's story. But the great difference seems to be a courageous kernel of hope combined with the felt experience of God. Theologian Paul Tillich had a famous sermon titled "The Courage to Be." The combination of trust in God and courageous hope can produce miracles.

God spare us from great tragedy. "Save us from the time of trial," we pray in the contemporary version of the Lord's Prayer. But should we face such a time, grant us hope to trust enough in God's present help that we may experience a Joseph-like resurrection.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012 -- -- Week of 3 Lent

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 955)
Psalms 119:97-120 (morning) // 81, 82 (evening)
Genesis 45:16-28
1 Corinthians 8:1-13
Mark 6:13-29

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

For Paul it is important that love be our primary motivation. Love is more important than knowledge; more important than freedom. We are to use our knowledge and freedom in the service of love. We are to forego what we know and limit our freedom if it is more loving to do so.

The presenting issue is food sacrificed to idols. Among the gentile converts, this issue was a big deal. Paul's solution is characteristic of his ethic and gospel.

Christ has made all things new. The gift of life in Christ is the gift of freedom. We have been made Christ's own, reconciled to God completely through the generous act of Christ. He had no scruples about meat sacrificed to idols. It's good meat; eat it, and enjoy.

But there are some who have not come to the fullness of this freedom. He calls them our weaker brothers and sisters. Out of regard for them, we should be willing to limit our freedom rather than harm their conscience. If they think the meat sacrificed to idols has some significance as a participation in the worship of the other gods, then, when he is at table with them, he would abstain from eating such meats as an act of loving respect toward them.

Some applications are obvious. Don't have pork ribs when you are at a restaurant with an observant Jew; order tea when visiting with someone in alcohol recovery; don't cuss in front of your mother.

This is a passage that is being urged upon the Episcopal Church with regard to our relationship with our brothers and sisters in regions of the world where gay people are regarded as immoral or sick. For the sake of their conscience, we should forgo our freedom to recognize ritually the holiness of gay unions. I find that application problematic, since it perpetuates injustice and violence toward my gay brothers and sisters. I would refrain from blessing gay unions in the diocese of Rwanda, but here where we recognize the holiness of such love, I would bless freely -- something like Paul enjoying idol meat in his private home but restraining when with a new and scrupulous gentile convert.

When is it right to limit our freedom for the sake of another's scruples, superstition, or ignorance? That's the question Paul presents us. He's obviously encouraging generosity toward the weaker neighbor, in a spirit of love and respect. But Paul has his boundaries too. He fiercely opposed those Jewish-Christians whose conscience was offended by the presence of Greek-Christian brothers who were uncircumcised. He won't compromise for the sake of their conscience. The connection between circumcision and bondage to the law was too critical. For me the connection between oppression and violence toward gay people and their denial of blessing is too critical.

What about our weaker brothers who fear that Darwin's evolutionary theory will unseat God? Or those who fear everyone who has not followed some public script about Jesus will go to hell? What about our brothers and sisters who believe a fertilized egg is fully comparable to a living, breathing human being? ...those of us whose conscience is offended when we execute someone who is in prison and completely in our control. ...or those who believe torture is always wrong?

I know that these conflicts between love and freedom and knowledge are complicated and always with us. Paul invites us to elevate love to such a degree that when it is necessary, we should be willing to limit our freedom. It is a harder moral equation when someone's scruple demands we limit another's freedom or participate in oppression. It is always complicated when we must judge between competing loves.

Read more »

Wednesday, March 21, 2012 -- Week of 4 Lent
Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury and Martyr, 1556

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 955)
Psalms 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30 (morning) // 119:121-144 (evening)
Genesis 50:15-26
1 Corinthians 12:1-11
Mark 8:11-26

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

"Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit..." 1 Corinthians 12:4

I like to say that everyone has gifts, what are yours? The Spirit gives every person gifts to be exercised "for the common good." Think of things you do easily and well? What comes to you naturally? Sometimes we tend to dismiss our gifts simply because they can seem effortless to us.

I think it is important also to realize that not everyone gets every spiritual gift. The Church has the fullness of the gifts of the Spirit. Because you are grafted into the Body of Christ, you participate in all of the gifts, but individually you have not been given every gift.

That's significant because sometimes people feel guilty because they find they do some things poorly that they think are expectations of all Christians. Prayer and faith are both gifts of the Spirit. But for some good Christians, prayer, or faith, seems almost impossible and distracting. Yet they have other gifts, maybe of service or generosity.

Exercise the gifts that are yours. Relax about the gifts you haven't been given, and enjoy the competence of others who exercise those gifts "for the common good." If prayer and faith aren't your gifts, let others pray and believe for you within the Body of Christ, for you belong to the Church, which has the fullness of the gifts of the Spirit.

I think it is important also to look for the manifestations of the gifts of the Spirit outside of the church. "The Spirit blows where it chooses." (John 3:8a) In Jesus' conversation in the boat with his disciples today (Mark 8:14f) he invites the disciples to see the presence of the Spirit inside and outside of religious and cultural boundaries. He asks them to open their eyes and their ears. They have already seen. They are witnesses to the miracles of feeding, one among a Jewish crowd, the other among Gentiles.

The numbers in this passage have significance. Among the Jewish crowd there were five loaves for the five thousand. Five is an important number in Jewish tradition. The sacred Torah is the first five books of the Hebrew scriptures. When the feeding is over, there are twelve baskets of leftover food. Twelve is the number of the tribes of Israel.

Then Jesus asks the disciples about the numbers in the feeding in Gentile territory. There were seven loaves that fed the four thousand, and seven baskets left over. Four is a widely used symbolic number that traditionally represents the four corners of the earth, the four winds or four directions -- an image of the whole created order. And seven is a number that is sacred to many faiths and cultures, a number that represents totality and perfection, the sum of three (the spiritual order) and four (the created order). Later in the book of Acts we will read that the church would choose seven deacons to go out into the world to serve the Gentiles. In the book of Revelation we will hear John address seven Gentile churches. Twelve is a number associated with the Jewish world; seven, with the Gentile world.

As Jesus told the disciples to open their eyes and ears to recognize the grace and power manifest in both worlds, so we need to see and honor the gifts of the Spirit present within and outside the Church. "It is the same God who activates all of them in everyone." (1 Cor. 12:6b)

Friday, March 23, 2012 -- Week of 4 Lent
Gregory the Illuminator, Bishop and Missionary of Armenia, c. 332

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 955)
Psalms (morning) 95* & 102 // 107:1-32 (evening)
Exodus 2:1-22
1 Corinthians 12:27 - 13:3
Mark 9:2-13

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

To the Egyptians, Moses was just a murderer, or maybe even a terrorist. His killing of the Egyptian who was beating one of the Hebrew laborers had a political component to it. Moses fled for his life. The Midianites who took him in -- did they give sanctuary to a justice warrior or did they harbor a terrorist?

In one sense, we can see Moses' violent act as a response that is motivated by love. His love for his people provoked his anger into rage when he witnessed the injustice of their forced labor. That love was focused in the particular incident when he came across the Egyptian overlord beating the Hebrew. Moses' act was premeditated. He looked around. No witnesses. He struck. He buried the body.

Anger is the appropriate emotional reaction whenever someone or something you love is threatened. Anger stimulates action -- sometimes enraged action. But underneath the anger, there is love.

Gerald May writes:

"Searching beneath anxiety, one will find fear. And beneath fear hurt will be discovered. Beneath the hurt will be guilt. Beneath the guilt lie rage and hatred. But do not stop with this, for beneath the rage lies frustrated desire. Finally beneath and beyond desire, is love. In every feeling, look deeply. Explore without ceasing. At bottom, love is." (Simply Sane, Crossroad, 1993, p. 87)

What do we do with all that love? If love is the energizing cauldron of emotion, how do we channel that energy into constructive rather than destructive actions?

Paul says today, "If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing." Love may be the underlying motivation for one's speech and powers and sacrifices, but if that love is exercised through rage and violence, it can become destructive nevertheless, as Moses learned.

The model for us is Jesus who transfigures human life and love. Today we see Jesus on a high mountain joined by Moses and by Elijah the prophet. Jesus is bathed in dazzling light. Jesus will take the energizing love of freedom (Moses) and justice (Elijah) and he will channel that energy in a pure and non-violent way. He will stand up to violence and injustice, exposing it and soaking-in its evil without giving it back in some violent counter-reaction. Instead, he will trust God's deliverance, and unmask wrong, forgiving perpetrators and liberating victims alike.

Love expressed through love is the transfiguring way of the Light. All other expressions of love must beg God's mercy.

Monday, March 26, 2012 -- Week of 5 Lent
Richard Allen, First Bishop of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, 1831

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms (morning) 31 // 35 (evening)
Exodus 4:10-20(21-26)27-31
1 Corinthians 14:1-19
Mark 9:30-41

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

There is a fascinating story in our reading from Exodus today. It comes to us only in a fragment. We don't have the context of the original story to help interpret it. It seems as if the Biblical editors have included it here in connection with the mention of the firstborn son of Pharaoh who will be killed at Passover.

The story begins, "On the way, at a place where they spent the night, the Lord met (Moses) and tried to kill him." Moses' wife Zipporah saves Moses by circumcising their son and touching Moses' genitals with it, saying, "Truly you are a bridegroom of blood to me!"

Why does God attack Moses, the one whom he has called for a special mission? There is no explanation. But there are some other similar stories elsewhere in the Hebrew scriptures. Jacob wrestled with God all night, holding on desperately until near dawn, when he was blessed and injured. Balaam the prophet would have been struck down by the angel of the Lord except that the donkey he was riding saw the angel and turned off the road. There is a moment in the Joshua saga when he sees an armed man standing before him and Joshua challenges the man; it is the commander of the army of God, and Joshua falls down before him in worship. There are several divine attacks upon the people of Israel, including a plague in the wilderness and the visit of the angel of the Lord in Bochim cursing Israel for failing to drive out the Canaanites.

It seems that one of the characteristics that sometimes accompanies a sense of calling from God is an attending sense of threat or attack from God. We can feel ourselves to be both obeying God and attacked by God. The fear of following God and the fear of not following God can be closely related. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel, says Paul. Let this cup pass from me, says Jesus, sweating blood. Sometimes the path of obedience can seem like the choice between two threats. Sometimes we must fight and wrestle with God before we can survive to do what we must.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012 -- Week of 5 Lent
Charles Henry Brent, Bishop of the Philippines, and of Western New York, 1929

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms (morning) [120], 121, 122, 123 // 124, 125, 126, [127] (evening)
Exodus 5:1 - 6:1
1 Corinthians 14:20-33a, 39-40
Mark 9:42-50

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

The Exodus is the foundational story of the Hebrew scriptures. It is the story of the creation of a people. God takes them from bondage to liberation, from oppression to freedom. God leads them to their own secure home.

It all starts as a labor movement. On behalf of the workers, Moses makes a demand for time-off for the laborers to celebrate a religious festival. Management refuses. Trying to intimidate the workers, management punishes them for organizing. Management raises quotas. It's the kind of thing that looks good in the board room and at stockholders meetings -- a plan to increase productivity. Instead of the company supplying straw for bricks, the workers will gather straw and will continue to produce at the same level. It's a cost-cutting measure for the company. It should raise the bottom line and have a dual purpose of discouraging any unionizing activity.

The management strategy worked. The workers blamed the union. They turned on Moses and Aaron. "You have brought us into bad odor with Pharaoh and his officials..." Moses and Aaron turn to God. God determines to escalate the conflict. There will be some serious union activity in the brick-making sector.

There is a lot of pro-labor sentiment in the scripture. The Torah establishes just expectations for prompt and fair payment of workers, demanding the same regulations for foreigners and immigrants as for the locals. In the Name of the Lord the prophets decry unjust labor practices and extreme income gaps.

Jesus speaks to the common economic plight of peasants when he places petitions such as "give us this day our daily bread" and "forgive us our debts" at the center of the teaching we call the Lord's Prayer. Many of his parables are set in a place of work, including the parable of the vineyard where every laborer gets paid a living wage regardless of how long each has worked. His most striking public act was to overturn the tables of the moneychangers, challenging the financial system of the Temple, presumably at least in part for their oppressive business practices.

Anyone who takes the Bible seriously is probably going to have a pro-labor inclination. Many people who have created unions and other labor advocacy organizations have done so as a religious calling.

We have a story in our family. Kathy's grandfather was a Southern Baptist pastor in a South Carolina mill town. When the textile workers went on strike in the 1930's, part of the largest organized labor action in the history of the U.S., he was run out of town. The violence that management used across the South, backed up by sheriffs and other law enforcement agencies, was so profound that for decades union activity in the South was profoundly suppressed. The South became the third-world labor market of the U.S. -- bring your factory here where we have low-wages and no unions.

Kathy's family was like many others that were victimized by the brutal suppression. They were shamed by her grandfather's forced exodus to Mississippi. They never talked of it. It was only referred to as "Granddaddy's problems back in Carolina." Kathy's questions about the circumstances met embarrassed discouragement. We don't talk about such things. It took Kathy years to learn her grandfather was punished for courageously standing up for his parishioners who were laborers. When Kathy said she was proud to learn what he had done, her older aunts couldn't understand. The oppression was so thorough that they were left only shamed and intimidated. That's a story that was repeated throughout the South.

The movement that God initiates through Moses will lead to a different end -- freedom and the creation of a new people with instructions for living together justly.

We live with similar issues today. How is power shared and abused? Every person should have work. Every worker should be compensated. The system should be just and should share it's fruitfulness with all. How can labor be structured in a just way, with living wages and benefits that give a worker's family appropriate security? These are Biblical issues as well as business and economic issues. Every once in a while we are given a pretty clear choice to choose between the economics of Pharaoh and the economics of God. When we choose wrongly, we always invite plagues.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012 -- Week of 5 Lent

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms (morning) 119:145-176 // 128, 129, 130 (evening)
Exodus 7:8-24
2 Corinthians 2:14 - 3:6
Mark 10:1-16

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

"And now, O Lord, I bend the knee of my heart." (Book of Common Prayer, p. 91)

That imaginative phrase comes from the first canticle assigned for Morning Prayer on Wednesdays in Lent. It comes from the Prayer of Manasseh, part of the Apocrypha.

The "heart" is a theme throughout today's Office.

In Hebrew tradition the heart is the intersection of the human intellect and will. Marcus Borg argues convincingly in his book "The Heart of Christianity" that the heart is a metaphor for the inner self as a whole -- "the self at a deep level, deeper than our perception, intellect, emotion, and volition. As the spiritual center of the total self, it affect all of these: our sight, thought, feelings, and will." (p. 151)

Today our story from Exodus speaks of Pharaoh's hardened heart. In 2 Corinthians, Paul speaks of the message and Spirit of Christ being written on our hearts, making us letters of the Spirit. In Mark, Jesus complains that the Mosaic law allowing a man to write a certificate of dismissal and thus divorce his wife was a commandment reflecting our hardness of heart, not the loving intention of God. And our Collect for this week asks that our hearts may be fixed upon God's will, "where true joys are to be found."

The Greek word for "hard hearted" is sklerokardia -- sclerosis of the heart. It is so natural for our hearts to become hardened, closed. It is the natural result of our defensive protections as we grow up in an unreliable and threatening world. It is as if our selves become encased in a tough, "protective" shell. In its mild form, a closed heart is judgmentalism, insensitivity, self-centeredness, ordinary self-interest. In its severe form, hardness of heart is violence, brutality, arrogance, rapacious greed.

"And now, O Lord, I bend the knee of my heart." I want to have an open heart, a soft heart. Sometimes, in order for our hearts to be opened, the protective shell must be cracked, like an egg that must be broken open to release the life within.

It seems to me that opening our hearts and opening our eyes go together. When I am awake and observant, alive to the wonder and beauty of life, my heart is more alive. When I am in touch with a sense of gratitude, my heart is softer. When I am motivated primarily by compassion, my actions are more heartfelt.

Today, may I bend the knee of my heart, so that the Spirit may write upon it, softening and opening my heart that it may be fixed upon God where true joys are to be found.

Friday, March 30, 2012 -- Week of 5 Lent
Innocent of Alaska, Bishop, 1879

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms (morning) 95* & 22 // 141, 143:1-11(12) (evening)
Exodus 9:13-35
2 Corinthians 4:1-12
Mark 10:32-45

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Jesus' life has a pattern of downward mobility. And Paul describes his vocation in complementary terms. Reversing the usual assumptions of what is the good life, the successful and blessed life, Jesus and Paul find meaning, peace and divine presence in this other way of being. And both of them inaugurated movements and influences that impact the world two millennia later.

The gospel reading today begins with Jesus on the road, his face set toward Jerusalem. His followers recognize the inevitability of threat and conflict ahead. They are afraid, Mark says. James and John are still living in the old paradigm. They ask to sit at Jesus' side in his glory. They don't understand, so he teaches. "Whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all." Now that's extreme downward mobility.

Yet listen to the power and freedom this new way creates when someone "gets it." Paul understands. He says that God's light shines in his heart. It is "the light of the knowledge of God in the face of Jesus Christ." It's all about God. Everything! That realization makes him bulletproof. He is totally hopeful, no matter what. Read again how he describes his life, but don't let a whisper of whining mar his words. This is a hymn of joy. This is a declaration of triumph and peace. This is an emancipation proclamation:

"We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh." (2 Cor. 4:8-11)

Can you see the joyful wonder in Paul's eyes as he dictates these words? He's smiling ear to ear. It's one of those smiles that communicates something like "can you believe the luck?! Isn't God something? Things are screwed up all around me, but everything's fine. I'm just fine. God's working everything out. I don't have to worry about anything. I've died to worry! Look! Out of this stuff, God is creating everything new! Amazing!"

Monday, April 2, 2012 -- Monday in Holy Week
James Lloyd Breck, Priest, 1876

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms (morning) 51:1-18(19-20) // 69:1-23 (evening)
Lamentations 1:1-2, 6-12
2 Corinthians 1:1-7
Mark 11:12-25

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow, which was brought upon me, which the LORD inflicted on the day of his fierce anger. (Lamentations 1:12)

The grief and pathos of Lamentations is so deep, and without consolation. The ruin of city and people is so thorough that it will take several pages of anguished mourning before the poet will be able to turn to any expression of hope. There are those situations that seem to have no promise or purpose other than loss and threat. It is good to have words to use to give expression to hopelessness. It is good to have the companionship of Lamentations among our holy writings to be an understanding friend when all appears dark.

Paul speaks to a different moment of suffering in today's letter to the Corinthians. He has been through afflictions and miseries, presumably with the congregation he is writing to. Something now has passed. He has come through the crisis. At some point he had experienced helplessness -- "Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death so that we would rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead." (1:9) Now Paul is thankful to God "who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ." (1:4-5)

We enter Holy Week today, and we already know how the story will turn out. It seems important to me to remain within the earthly tension of the moment as we walk the way of the cross with Jesus. After all, his disciples didn't know resurrection was coming. When we are in the midst of tension, threat and suffering, we don't know that things will work out as they did for Paul and the church in Corinth. Sometimes we find ourselves in hopeless situations, like the poet of Lamentations. Sometimes it seems like we have "received the sentence of death."

It seems to me that there is a great difference between suffering that is connected with some purpose and suffering that seems to have no real meaning. Paul gained some comfort that his affliction was directed in his concern for the Corinthian congregation. Even when it appeared that he was losing, he struggled with hope, relying on God to carry the day when it was beyond his power. He suffered with and for his friends in Corinth even as he was consoled for them. "Our hope for you is unshaken; for we know that as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our consolation." (1:7)

"I felt your prayers." I've heard it said so many times by someone who has struggled with illness or threat. It is meaningful when we know others share in our sufferings.

The story of Holy Week tells us that human suffering is holy, human suffering has meaning, even when it appears most hopeless. The central symbol of Christianity is the cross, an image of a human being in living death, hanging helplessly in tortured pain with no path of escape, the object of injustice and evil, condemned, humiliated, shamed. A disciple or a mother looking on could only feel grief and helplessness. From their perspective, as observers of Jesus' execution, they could only think how all their hopes were dying. What loss. It can only seem tragic and so meaningless. Yet even as they suffer, God is using this event for the healing of the world.

When we find ourselves in misery, we can remember that Jesus has made our experiences of suffering holy. Like Jesus, we can offer our own pain, our helplessness and hopelessness to God, asking God to use our suffering like God used Jesus' suffering, for the healing of the world. In the dark mystery of the divine, God has shown us that even our most tragic loss still has meaning, for God used the cross for good. God can take our suffering and transform it for good as well.

Help us give our suffering to you, O God. Take our misery and tragedy, and use it as you used the cross.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012 -- Tuesday in Holy Week

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms (morning) 6, 12 // 94 (evening)
Lamentations 1:17-22
2 Corinthians 1:8-12
Mark 11:27-33

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Jesus has attacked the Temple in the name of God. He has reasserted the ancient prophetic vision that the Temple be a house of prayer for all people. He has turned out the established system of sacrifices, with the profitable business of exchanging unclean for clean, claiming, again in God's name, that they had turned the Temple into a den of robbers.

By what authority? That's the questions the authorities have. Where did you get your authority, Jesus? The authorities know where their authority comes from.

First, they know that their authority comes from scripture, and from a traditional interpretation of the Bible. All of the business about unclean and clean animals comes from the scripture. The entire sacrificial system for righting wrong is spelled out in detail in the Bible. The prohibition against common Roman coinage is a defense of the first commandment against graven images. Caesar claims to be divine, the Son of God. It would be blasphemy to bring his image into the holy Temple. These religious authorities know their Bible. They quote it and enforce it with energetic intention, believing in their hearts that they are defending God.

Second, they know that they have the authority of recognition from the acknowledged establishments of religion and state. The Temple is given permission by the Roman governor to carry out its religious practice. The ordering of the Temple has oversight from the religious authorities. This is the traditional, structured way that this people has carried out its corporate religious practice for centuries. It is established tradition.

Scripture and established tradition -- that's where the authority comes from for the Temple magistrates.

But who is this Galilean rebel and where does he get the gumption to walk in here and nearly start a riot, attacking the established foundations of the Temple? They ask him to declare his grounds.; "By what authority are you doing these things?"

Jesus could have answered them. He could have said, "By the authority of God." But they would have answered back, "We have God's authority; who do you think you are? We are the recognized, established authorities of God."

Jesus could have said, "Because of what is written in the Scriptures." He could have continued to quote the prophets and declare God's intention that the Temple be radically open and inclusive -- a house of prayer for all people. He could have quoted from all of the stories and psalms and prophets about God's preferential regard for the poor. But they would have answered back, shooting Bible bullets to reference and defend every practice that Jesus attacks.

There's no talking with them. It won't help. Some folks won't be budged. Not if they've got Bible and tradition behind them.

So Jesus asks them a trick question. What about John the Baptist? Of course, they didn't like him either. But the people did. The people loved him and thought he was a prophet. The authorities were flummoxed. Either they were afraid to risk the scorn and unpopularity of the crowd. Or they were afraid to admit an uncomfortable truth that didn't fit with their comfortable traditions.

So they didn't answer Jesus. They quit talking. They quit listening too. They weren't going to change. It was too costly. It would cost them the entire system they had been living for. It would cost them the comfort of knowing they were right, the comfort of a belief that had been, well..., comfortable. It would cost them their security, because their money came from their system of belief. It was just too far to go. So they abandoned the uncomfortable consideration of uncomfortable truths. They quit talking; they quit listening; they started plotting how they could undermine this troublemaker, if necessary, with violence.

Every social movement that has challenged the established privileges has met the same kind of resistance. Every economic reform that has challenged the established interests has met the same kind of resistance. Every new discovery that has broken with the conventional paradigm has met the same kind of resistance.

It's almost impossible to attack entrenched power straight-on. It must be undermined. Usually its destructive power has to be brought out into the open where everyone can see its brokenness. But that means victims. Dogs on the bridge at Selma. Witches drowned and gay people burned (fagged). Union organizers busted. Sick people without access to medicine letting their suffering be filmed on TV. Illegal pictures of body bags. Homeless people in your face. A frustrated 99% occupying Wall Street.

"By what authority?" the authorities demand, as they shut down and shut up the uncomfortable ones.

Most of the time now, one answer that the challengers give is "Jesus." By the authority of Jesus we are doing this. By his example of compassion and healing and forgiveness and generosity and love. By the authority of Jesus the victims confront the abusive and violent. He keeps overturning tables and tipping the scales forever.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012 -- Wednesday in Holy Week

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms (morning) 55 // 74 (evening)
Lamentations 2:1-9
2 Corinthians 1:23 - 2:11
Mark 12:1-11

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

At some point in Israel's early history, it became an article of faith, articulated in scripture, that God had chosen Jerusalem as the divine dwelling place, and that God would always protect and defend Jerusalem from its enemies. Lamentations looks that failed expectation in the face and declares in the wake of Jerusalem's destruction -- it was God who did it. It was not just enemies, but God's own act that destroyed the city, its temple, and the entire nation. "The Lord has become like an enemy; he has destroyed Israel." (2:5a)

We should have listened to the prophets, the poet tells a grieving nation. The prophets warned the nation that they were provoking God's anger by their unfaithfulness and injustice, especially by the nation's failure to act with compassion and generosity toward the poor, the weak, the vulnerable and the stranger -- the widow, the orphan and the alien. The prophets spoke in God's name to declare there are terrible consequences to unjust behavior. Lamentations looks back at those consequences and says that we provoked God by our injustice, and God destroyed us. (Much later in the Lamentations the poet will speak comforting words, but not yet.)

I think of the American belief that we are a chosen nation, a city set on a hill, a blessing to all the other nations of the earth. There is deep within our character an optimism and confidence that we can and always will prevail. We are the good guys, and in the end, the good guys always win. But are we the good guys?

There are prophets speaking words of warning to America today, speaking of our greed and our inhospitable treatment toward the alien and the poor. Prophets tell us if we abuse the earth that the planet itself will have its revenge. We hear the same warnings today that ancient Israel heard from Amos, Isaiah, Micah, Hosea and Jeremiah. And yet, we still put our trust in our military might rather than in God and God's justice. We let money and power direct our ways. Money and power becomes more concentrated in the hands of fewer people, while we make little provision for those who suffer. The U.S. House of Representatives just passed a budget that makes draconian cuts to some of the safety nets for the poor, while lowering taxes again for the wealthy. Is there any doubt what the prophets would say to us? A nation can live unjustly for only so long before catastrophe comes.

Today's gospel story of the parable of the tenants makes the same point. The owner of the vineyard will allow the arrogant and abusive actions of the tenants to last only so long. "What will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others." (Mark 12:9)

The prophets and the gospel both tell us what to do -- change our direction. Repent. Turn away from pride, greed, and power. Turn toward compassion, love, generosity and peacefulness.

The prophets declare the expectations of God: "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God." And they demand that "justice roll-down like water and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." When the prophets speak the word "justice," it is predominately an economic term. In most cases in the scripture, the word "righteousness" is a synonym for justice, also an economic term.

How we use our power and money is the prophets' focus. Honor God rather than worshipping our own power. Serve the needs of the poor and vulnerable rather than the interests of the wealthy and strong. That's the consistent message and warning of scripture. If we don't, the prophets warn, destruction and lamentation will certainly follow.

Thursday, April 5, 2012 -- Maundy Thursday

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms 102 (morning) // 142, 143 (evening)
Lamentations 2:10-18
1 Corinthians 10:14-17; 11:27-32
Mark 14:12-25

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

You can sense the tenseness in the air. First, there is the tension and energy of the Passover feast. Throngs of visitors clamored into Jerusalem. There would have been an enormous crowd at the Temple that afternoon where the Paschal lambs were sacrificed and distributed to the people for their Seder suppers that evening. This is the annual Jewish remembrance of their delivery from slavery and oppression. The Roman military was on high alert. Jewish aspirations for freedom and liberation were never so fevered as during Passover. Maybe this would be the Passover year when God delivers his people again.

The second tension is the anxiety that is present among the friends and followers of Jesus. He is a marked and hunted man. On Sunday he hit the radar of the Romans, entering Jerusalem in the exact way that the prophets had imagined the coming of the new Messianic King. No one missed the imagery. The peasants had picked up on it immediately, grabbing palm branches and crying, "Hosanna! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!" Now the Romans have him on their watch list for potential sedition. They'll react swiftly and violently if there is any hint of challenge. There is no king but Caesar.

On Monday Jesus attacked the Temple. He disrupted the profitable commerce in certified, inspected, unblemished sacrificial animals for the rituals necessary for the forgiveness of sins. He overturned the tables of the moneychangers who exchanged the profane secular Roman coinage with its offensive image of Caesar. The Temple made a nice profit on these services. Jesus insulted the entire Temple system and its authorities. This cannot be allowed. Powerful interested have determined, they want him dead.

The arrangements for the Passover meal for Jesus and his friends sound like a spy story. Two of the disciples will go into the city and look for a man carrying water. That won't be hard to spot. Carrying water is women's work. Follow him, say the code sentence at the door, and they will let you in. Make the preparations there.

It is tense. This may be the last time Jesus can gather safely with his friends. Betrayal is in the air. What will he do? This is his last chance to teach, to reinforce the message that he has been living all this time. How will he leave them with enough for them to make it through the upcoming challenges?

"While they were eating, he took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, 'Take; this is my body.' Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks, he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it. He said to them, 'This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Truly I tell you, I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God."

That's it. That's his last gift to them. It will capture, summarize and symbolize everything he taught and everything he is. Through the lens of the broken bread and the cup poured out the disciples will interpret his death. In the breaking of the bread they will recognize his resurrection. In the shared bread and wine, they will know him to be present with them forever. In the common meal, they will know themselves to be one with each other. From this table they will be fed, nourished, healed, unified and strengthened. For centuries. To the end of time. It is enough.

Friday, April 6, 2012 -- Good Friday

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 957)
Psalms 95* & 22 (morning) // 40:1-14(15-19), 54 (evening)
Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-33
1 Peter 1:10-20
John 13:36-38** John 19:38-42***
* for the Invitatory **Intended for use in the morning *** Intended for use in the evning

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

We all have the best of intentions. Most of the time, everybody is doing about the best they can do. All of us have such limited insight. Sometimes we don't have all of the resources we need. Often we lack emotional nourishment. If we had more conscious awareness of what makes us tick, more information and alternatives available to us, different life experiences and more love, support, and and encouragement, we could do better. We could have done better. Given our limited insight, resources, and emotional nourishment, most of us are doing just about as well as we can. And we can fail so miserably.

The Daily Lectionary sets us up so deftly today. We read only a brief morning gospel passage. Three verses. A lot has already happened on this last night. Jesus has washed the feet of the disciples. He has told them that one of them will betray him. Judas has left into the darkness. Jesus says to his friends that they can't come with him on his next journey, and he commands them to love one another. Then we get our three verses.

It's Peter. Impetuous, energetic Peter. "Why can't I follow? I would lay down my life for you?" He means it. Peter is utterly sincere. His best intention would be to stand up to anything on behalf of Jesus. "Very truly, I tell you," says Jesus, "before the cock crows, you will have denied me three times."

Peter is going to fail. He's going to fail himself. He won't live up to his intentions. He won't stand up for his friend like he thought he would. He'll get in over his head. He'll be in a situation he's not prepared for. He won't understand what's happening or why. He'll feel utterly vulnerable and afraid. He'll be alone, his primary source of strength arrested, bound and threatened. The bottom will fall out. He'll do what he thinks he needs to do to survive. Then he will realize what he has done. Oh, no. O, God. You can't undo the past. Maybe he'll hear the echo of those words, "One of you will betray me." "Oh, God. It was me!"

That was a night of two betrayals. But they come to such different ends.

When Judas realized what he had done, he despaired. His need to control overcame him, and he did the only thing he could think of to fix the problem, permanently. Given his imaginative limitations, and pride and need to control, Judas did the best thing he could imagine.

When Peter realized what he had done, he too despaired. But Peter kept living with the helplessness long enough to realize and to accept forgiveness. Jesus helped him start again. Then he got other chances to live up to his best intentions. He became "the Rock" on which Jesus would establish his church. According to legend, eventually he was able to follow Jesus so faithfully that he willingly laid down his life for him. Later, when he had a little more insight and resources and emotional depth, Peter lived up to his promises.

But not today.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012 -- Tuesday in Easter Week

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 959)
Psalms 103 (morning) // 114, 111 (evening)
Exodus 12:28-39
1 Corinthians 15:12-28
Mark 16:9-20

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today we get to read "The Longer Ending of Mark," a passage that does not appear in most of the ancient sources. It is likely that sometime in the second century, some Christian scholars who were troubled by the abrupt ending of Mark's gospel composed another ending, drawing on scenes from the other gospels. It is significant that this tradition retains the primacy of Mary Magdalene as the first witness to the resurrection. In the Eastern Orthodox tradition she is celebrated as the First Apostle and given the title "Equal to the Apostles."

This "Longer Ending" also is the source of the practice of snake handling and of drinking water laced with strychnine, arsenic or other poisons, mostly in Pentecostal holiness churches. Verse 17 reads: "And these signs will accompany those who believe: by using my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes in their hands, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover." Luke 10:19 also says, "Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you." For some, these have been important texts for confirming their faith in Jesus.

It makes me wonder. How different might my life and my faith have been had I been raised in a family with such practices? I was raised in an Episcopalian household, and I know that influenced me profoundly in the direction of my own spiritual temperament. I've met so many people who have come to the Episcopal Church after having been traumatized by their earlier religious experiences. I also know a few people who found that our quieter, more understated style of religious expression was not fulfilling for them and discovered new life and energy in the more dramatic piety of Pentecostal faith or found comfort in the more certain, absolute beliefs of literal or fundamentalist traditions.

We are deeply formed by our early experiences. Our religious origins create powerful foundations, and they also create needs for further healing and growth.
_________________

I don't have a good transition here, but it strikes me as we read from Paul's powerful chapter 15 of First Corinthians that there is a thrilling proclamation of the total triumph of Jesus. Paul says poetically, "for as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ." Paul is picking up an ancient tradition that says that death is the penalty of Adam's sin, a penalty that affects every human being. All die. But the triumph of Jesus completely reverses that penalty, "so all will be made alive in Christ." All live.

My own experience of the glory and wonder and power of God in Christ has the same kind of fullness that Paul expresses. It seems impossible to me that anyone or anything can escape the immeasurable love of God. It seems hard to imagine that God will fail, or that anyone could resist the wonder of God's love forever. I join Paul in that confidence that in Christ, ALL will be made alive. Alleluia!

Wednesday, April 11, 2012 -- Wednesday in Easter Week

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 959)
Psalms 97, 99 (morning) // 115 (evening)
Exodus 12:40-51
1 Corinthians 15:(29)30-41
Matthew 28:1-16

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today we move to Matthew's version of the resurrection. Matthew had access to Mark's gospel and used some parts of it word for word. Comparing the resurrection appearances helps us see a common form of development in the story of Jesus. Matthew adds some dramatic elements -- a great earthquake, and angel who rolls away the stone, fearful guards. In Mark, the women at the tomb meet a "young man dressed in a white robe." In Matthew, it is an angel with an "appearance like lightning and clothes white as snow." The women get the same instruction -- to tell the disciples Jesus has risen and will meet them in Galilee." Unlike Mark's account, where the women are afraid and tell no one, the women of Matthew's story run with fear and joy to tell the disciples. Mark's account ends with these words: "So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid." But in Matthew's version, Jesus appears to the women, they take hold of his feet and worship him, and he speaks to them.

In Biblical narratives as well as in our everyday life, stories tend to accumulate details and more drama as they are repeated over time. Sometimes repetition will invite exaggeration or creative elaboration. An earthquake adds drama. A young man becomes an angel. The women's fear and silence becomes a joyful reunion with the Risen Lord.

As the early church developed its teaching and story, the church looked to the past to interpret their present. Early on the church saw in Isaiah's suffering servant a tradition that helped them to interpret the death of Jesus, after all, it was a more common expectation that the Messiah/Christ would be a triumphant leader who would expel Israel's enemies and establish the nation as the greatest of nations. In finding interpretations to help them understand the meaning of Jesus' death and their experience of his resurrection, the early preachers incorporated some elements of the Hebrew Biblical narrative and prophecy into their story of Jesus. Some elements of detail and elaboration came into the story because they showed how Jesus was the fulfillment of scripture. So Matthew adds to Mark's simpler account a detail about the soldiers dividing Jesus' clothes among themselves and casting lots, drawing upon the words of Psalm 22: "they divide my garments among them; they cast lots for my clothing."

One of those places of debate and conversation among scholars is the question of how many of these details that we have in our gospels are "history remembered" or "prophecy historicized." Such studies make for great sport among scholars. I'm satisfied to read with devotion the various accounts that we have been given, to honor them as the faithful preaching of our evangelist ancestors, to draw meaning from it all, and not to get too exercised over the unknowable question of "what really happened" in detail. After all, does it really matter whether or not little George Washington really did cut down the cherry tree? What matters is that he was an honest man. The story tells us that truth, whether it is history remembered or a metaphorical fiction.

Matthew and Mark are addressing two different audiences and in many ways are doing two different things. We can be thankful that our ancestors preserved both accounts for our benefit and didn't try to edit or exclude because of inconsistencies in their stories. We are richer for the inconsistencies.

Friday, April 13, 2012 -- Friday in Easter Week

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 959)
Psalms 136 (morning) // 118 (evening)
Exodus 13:1-2, 11-16
1 Corinthians 15:51-58
Luke 24:1-12

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

It's funny when you read something over and over and then notice something for the first time. I've read these first 12 versus of Luke 24 dozens of times. A few years ago I read this Luke and something struck me. Technically this is not a resurrection appearance of Jesus. Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James do not actually see Jesus. They speak to "two men in dazzling clothes." The men tell them about the resurrection of Jesus. It's not until later that evening in Luke's Gospel that Jesus himself appears. Jesus walks unknown along the road to Emmaus speaking with two friends in a way that made their hearts burn within them. It is not until breaking of the bread that the risen Jesus actually appears to the disciples in Luke's account.

I believe that Luke's chronology matches the experiences of so many people in our generation also. We grow up hearing the stories about Jesus's resurrection. We hear those stories from women and mothers, and occasionally from a man dressed in dazzling clothes (take that with some tongue-in-cheek). From time to time our hearts are warmed within us as we speak with others, think and read about spiritual possibilities. And for many of us, it is within worship, especially the Eucharist, that we really experience the risen Christ.

A few years ago, on the day after Easter, I received an e-mail from a parishioner who described her sense of resurrection during our Easter morning Eucharist. The context of her note was her observance of the popularity of the last of those "Left Behind" books titled "The Glorious Appearing." (I'm not a fan of the "Left Behind" series; I doubt if she is either, but I don't want to speak for her.) Here's what she wrote:

I was listening to the words of the service yesterday, where we affirmed that "we await [Jesus's] returning, in power and great glory." And I looked around the congregation, with all the happy faces and triumphant music, the beautiful flowers and sweet incense, and all the people I knew who put so much time and talent and trouble and tears into working with the homeless and hungry and helpless, and in teaching children and adults, and in growing plants and cooking food and cleaning floors around the church, and in talking and listening and supporting all of the above -- and I couldn't help thinking, "HERE is the Glorious Appearing. HERE is the power, and the great glory. What is everybody waiting for?"

Friday, April 13, 2012 -- Friday in Easter Week

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 959)
Psalms 136 (morning) // 118 (evening)
Exodus 13:1-2, 11-16
1 Corinthians 15:51-58
Luke 24:1-12

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

It's funny when you read something over and over and then notice something for the first time. I've read these first 12 versus of Luke 24 dozens of times. A few years ago I read this Luke and something struck me. Technically this is not a resurrection appearance of Jesus. Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James do not actually see Jesus. They speak to "two men in dazzling clothes." The men tell them about the resurrection of Jesus. It's not until later that evening in Luke's Gospel that Jesus himself appears. Jesus walks unknown along the road to Emmaus speaking with two friends in a way that made their hearts burn within them. It is not until breaking of the bread that the risen Jesus actually appears to the disciples in Luke's account.

I believe that Luke's chronology matches the experiences of so many people in our generation also. We grow up hearing the stories about Jesus's resurrection. We hear those stories from women and mothers, and occasionally from a man dressed in dazzling clothes (take that with some tongue-in-cheek). From time to time our hearts are warmed within us as we speak with others, think and read about spiritual possibilities. And for many of us, it is within worship, especially the Eucharist, that we really experience the risen Christ.

A few years ago, on the day after Easter, I received an e-mail from a parishioner who described her sense of resurrection during our Easter morning Eucharist. The context of her note was her observance of the popularity of the last of those "Left Behind" books titled "The Glorious Appearing." (I'm not a fan of the "Left Behind" series; I doubt if she is either, but I don't want to speak for her.) Here's what she wrote:

I was listening to the words of the service yesterday, where we affirmed that "we await [Jesus's] returning, in power and great glory." And I looked around the congregation, with all the happy faces and triumphant music, the beautiful flowers and sweet incense, and all the people I knew who put so much time and talent and trouble and tears into working with the homeless and hungry and helpless, and in teaching children and adults, and in growing plants and cooking food and cleaning floors around the church, and in talking and listening and supporting all of the above -- and I couldn't help thinking, "HERE is the Glorious Appearing. HERE is the power, and the great glory. What is everybody waiting for?"

Monday, April 16, 2012 -- Week of Easter 2
Mary (Molly) Brant (Konwatsijayenni), Witness to the Faith among the Mohawks, 1796

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 959)
Psalms 1, 2, 3 (morning) // 4, 7 (evening)
Exodus 14:21-31
1 Peter 1:1-12
John 14:(1-7)8-17

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

There are many transitions in life. Change is complex and usually difficult.

The Israelites are trying to move from bondage into freedom. The whole enterprise is threatened by powers greater than their control. At the last moment they are saved. What relief. But now, they will enter a wilderness where they will have to learn to live with all of this new freedom. It will be so hard.

Peter writes to "the exiles of the Dispersion." They are living the new life -- "a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ." They sense the promise. But right now, life is full of threat and foreboding. They are being tested by fire. The writer reminds them of Christ's sufferings that were necessary before he could enter into his subsequent glory. You've seen things angels longed to look upon. But right now, things seem pretty overwhelming. Persevere. Hang on.

And Jesus speaks to troubled hearts. He tells them they know the way. They don't feel like they know the way. Look at Jesus. He is the way. Or hear his words. They speak of the way. Or see his works. The point the way. Love one another. The Spirit abides in you.

So we remember who and whose we are. We remind ourselves that the present wilderness and threat is better than the former bondage and ignorance.

Life is difficult. We are always on the way. But Jesus is the journey and the journey's end. It seems that he believes in us. That may be more important than our believing in him. He thinks we can not only survive but prevail. He tells us that we will do the works that he does, and even more. He invites us to imagine, and to ask, and to act. We have an Advocate. A Spirit with us.

Come on. Let's go.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012 -- Week of Easter 2

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 959)
Psalms 5, 6 (morning) // 10, 11 (evening)
Exodus 15:1-21
1 Peter 1:13-25
John 14:18-31

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's discourse from John's gospel offers comforting words. John has set these words within the action of Jesus' servant-act of washing the feet of the disciples as the first of three discourses (John 13-14, 15-16:4, and 16:4-33)

Sometimes it is renewing to listen to these words as though spoken to us.

"I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you...; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. ...Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them...

"But the Advocate (Helper), the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid..."

Sometimes it seems that the message is so simple. "I love you and I am with you. Do not be afraid. Live in peace, and act in love."

Wednesday, April 18, 2012 -- Week of Easter 2

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 959)
Psalms 119:1-24 (morning) // 12, 13, 14 (evening)
Exodus 15:22 - 16:10
1 Peter 2:1-10
John 15:1-11

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Many of us were taught that you have to earn your keep. Beginning at a tender age we started getting grades on our performance. We experienced praise or blame depending upon how well we were doing or how compliant we were. The whole message was one of qualified and insecure standing. That's life in Egypt. Do what your taskmasters tell you, the way that they tell you, or you'll get in trouble. The threatened life.

When God liberated Israel from Egypt, God fed them with manna. God provided for their daily needs. God didn't give them a surplus. If you tried to insure your security by gathering enough manna for a second day, it turned to worms. God provided water for them and sweetened its bitterness. Now free from their taskmasters in Egypt, Israel was invited to trust God for their security of daily bread and steadfast loving affection. It's a different life from Egypt. The free life.

It takes a bit of trust to let God bring you your life instead of satisfying internal or external taskmasters for your security. Simply trusting God for the needs of the present, letting go of the grasping control of the future, is like being connected with grace. It is to be a branch on the vine. It is to abide in Christ. To abide in love.

Jesus says that it is his intention that his divine "joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete." Relaxing into the day with trust, receiving the manna of daily bread, and abiding in the divine love. Sounds like the free life. Sounds like joy.

Monday, April 23, 2012 -- Week of 3 Easter
George, Soldier and Martyr, c. 304; Toyohiko Kagawa, Prophetic Witness in Japan, 1960

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 961)
Psalms 25 (morning) // 9, 15 (evening)
Exodus 18:13-27
1 Peter 5:1-14
Matthew (1:1-17); 3:1-6

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

There are several psalms like Psalm 9, appointed for this evening, that seem to express my yearnings in an election year and during times of political conflict. At the core of those psalms is something kin to Jesus' proclamation of the Kingdom of God. I want, I yearn for a world that is ruled by the values of God, not the oppression of the powerful.

Psalm 9 opens in a voice of anticipatory praise, thanking God for the day "when my enemies are driven back." (v. 4) For now, the psalmist lives under threat. "Have pity on me, O God; see the misery I suffer from those who hate me..." (v. 13) The psalm closes with his cry for help: "Rise up, O God, let not the ungodly have the upper hand; let them be judged before you. Put fear upon them, O God; let the ungodly know they are but mortal." (v. 19-20)

Throughout the Psalm the writer professes trust that God will prevail, and the enemies will be defeated. He invokes the qualities of God's reign. "You rule the world with righteousness and judge the peoples with equity. (v. 8) "You are known, O God, by your acts of justice; the wicked are trapped in the works of their own hands." (v. 16) "For the needy shall not always be forgotten, and the hope of the poor shall not perish for ever." (v. 18)

Although there may be a military threat implied in Psalm 9, the more dominant complaint is of economic oppression. That complaint rings with emotion for me, for that is my predominant complaint in this day and time. We live in a time when we suffer from a world wide economic depression triggered by the dishonesty and greed of powerful and wealthy financiers. The wealthy do not want to pay for the economic ruin they have created, but seem to be using the crisis to cut the social programs that are most critical to the poor and needy.

I find I join the Psalmist, calling out to God. "You are known, O God, by your acts of justice; the wicked are trapped in the works of their own hands. ...Rise up, O God; let not the ungodly have the upper hand." (v. 16a, 19a)

Many of the psalms and the prophets declare God's "righteousness". "You rule the world with righteousness and judge the people with equity." I read some preachers who think of righteousness only in ethical terms, a righteous person is one who follows a path of moral behavior. Sometimes the word is reduced to proper religious belief and sexual restraint. But in the scripture, "righteous" and "righteousness" is a much bigger word. Usually it is an economic and political word.

Alan Richardson's study in "A Theological Word Book of the Bible" (1962) shows that the dominant use of the term "righteousness" in the Hebrew scripture (tsedeq and tsedaqah) "involves the establishment of equal rights for all, and to this extent 'justice' is a sound equivalent. ...The original Heb. words, therefore, include the idea of God's vindication of the helpless... (L)ater developments of the world stress the aspect of generosity and benevolence to the helpless." (p. 203)

A world of righteousness is a world where the poor and needy enjoy security -- food, shelter, and opportunity to thrive; access to health care, education and transportation. We have a secular way of expressing these hopes: "Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

But for too many in our culture today, the pursuit of happiness is a pursuit of excess, an ethic of entitlement and greed that fails to recognize our responsibility toward our neighbors, especially the needy and poor. The prophets and the psalmists speak of the ungodly as those who pervert equity and who eschew righteousness -- economic and social justice.

I join the psalmist today in declaring, "You are known, O God, by your acts of justice; the wicked are trapped in the works of their own hands... For the needy shall not always be forgotten, and the hope of the poor shall not perish for ever. Rise up, O God; let not the ungodly have the upper hand." (v. 16, 18, 19a)

Tuesday, April 24, 2012 -- Week of 3 Easter
Genocide Remembrance

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 961)
Psalms 26, 28 (morning) // 36, 39 (evening)
Exodus 19:1-16
Colossians 1:1-14
Matthew 3:7-12

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

There is a voice of rebellion deep in the heart of the wicked; *
there is no fear of God before their eyes. (Psalm 36:1)

I am utterly numb and crushed; *
I wail, because of the groaning of my heart.
My friends and companions draw back from my affliction; *
my neighbors stand afar off. (Psalm 38:8, 11)

Today in the church's proposed calendar we remember those who have died and who have been hurt by acts of genocide. Genocide is "the systematic and intentional destruction of a people by death, by the imposition of severe mental or physical abuse, by the forced displacement of children, or by other atrocities designed to destroy the lives and human dignity of large groups of people." (Holy Women, Holy Men, p. 342)

Yesterday President Obama visited the U.S. Holocaust Memorial and Museum with Elie Weisel. Reports of their visit were moving. I am encouraged that last year the President established the Atrocities Prevention Board and announced a policy to make the prevention of atrocities a key focus for the U.S. There is now a structured way to monitor and report on current and potential acts of genocide. Too often our attention has been narrowed only by focus on our own vital interests. Genocide happens when the world averts its eyes and turns away.

I tend to be one who favors diplomatic and police responses to international threats. I opposed the Iraq war from the outset. Yet I also tend to be one who wishes the U.S. would lead more prompt military responses in situations of genocide. I thought President Clinton was slow to respond to the ethnic cleansing in the Balkans. The success of that U.N. operation to stop the systemic murders is a reminder that the world can act to prevent and to stop genocide.

I wonder how many lives might be saved if the U.S. and U.N. would act now with significant force to save the people of Darfur, South Kordofan and Nuba Mountains, and the Blue Nile from the atrocities and systematic attacks that have killed hundreds of thousands and displaced more than a million people. I am particularly proud of Dr. Sam Totten of Fayetteville for his tireless work and advocacy to prevent genocide, especially in and around Sudan.

The prevention of genocide seems to me to be one of the few compelling arguments for military action. Can a criminal like Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir be that immune from superior military power?

Elie Weisel reminded us that the civilized world failed to speak up and take measures to prevent the Holocaust of Nazi Germany, and he shown a light on the threats that Syria's Bashar al-Assad and Iran's leadership pose to the Middle East.

Lower on the world's radar is the systemic cultural genocide that China pursues against the Tibetan and Uyghur peoples. I'm proud of the University of Arkansas' oral history project to capture the stories and memories of Tibetan refugees who recall their country before the Chinese invasion.

And so today, we remember and we pray.

Almighty God, our Refuge and our Rock, your loving care knows no bounds and embraces all the peoples of the earth: Defend and protect those who fall victim to the forces of evil, and as we remember this day those who endured depredation and death because of who they were, not because of what they had done or failed to do, give us the courage to stand against hatred and oppression, and to seek the dignity and well-being of all for the sake of our Savior Jesus Christ, in whom you have reconciled the world to yourself; and who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. (from Holy Women, Holy Men)

Wednesday, April 25, 2012 -- Week of 3 Easter
St. Mark the Evangelist

Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Wednesday of 3 Easter, p. 961)
Psalms 38 (morning) // 119:25-48 (evening)
Exodus 19:16-25
Colossians 1:15-23
Matthew 3:13-17

OR the readings for St. Mark (p. 997)
Morning Prayer: Psalm 145; Ecclesiasticus 2:1-11; Acts 12:25 - 13:3
Evening Prayer: Psalms 67, 96; Isaiah 62:6012; 2 Timothy 4:1-11

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

I chose the readings for Wednesday of 3 Easter

The Experience of the Holy

In Exodus we read of when God descended upon the top of Mount Sinai in fire, smoke and thunder to speak to Moses and to appear to the people. Their sense of awe is palpable. To get too close would be to die. In Colossians we read of the growing sense of deepening reality that the early Church experiences as they reflect on the wonder of God mediated through Jesus Christ. What they have experienced in his incarnation is an expression of God's creative presence at all times. And today's Gospel recalls the baptism of Jesus when the heavens open and God declares him beloved.

From time to time I think each of us experiences the holy. I think every human being has sensed the presence of the More, the Awesome, the Wonderful. Such experiences are so different from our ordinary consciousness; I'm not sure we are always able to appreciate and treasure those holy moments. It's too easy to let them fade or to rationalize them as something merely odd because we don't have reality-categories to fit them into. Without categories, we can dismiss the penultimate as merely unreal.

There are times when contemplative prayer goes especially deep. In those experiences, "I" disappear. Any sense of my self as separate from the all evaporates. There is no experience of time. There is only everything. The only sense of having experienced anything comes as "I" emerge out of the state of "no-I." What is left is a deep sense of peace and connection with all that is. A calm gladness that feels completely rested, at ease, present, content with what is. It is like the echo of a fine vibration that continues in the background. There is an exhilarated "yes" underneath whatever may have happened.

If that is what it is to experience God, then it is exquisite. If that is what it is like not to exist, then it is fine with me. The experience is so self-authenticating, that it feels much more real than ordinary life or ordinary consciousness. It seems like a peek at the reality that is below appearances. I can believe or hope, that in the deepest reality, in God, all opposites resolve, everything is truly reconciled, and a joyful peace that passes all understanding heals and unites everything, even the horrors of this world.

But I don't know with full certainty that this is really real. It might be a trick of my imagination. Or just some odd brain chemistry. It might have no exterior reality beyond my brain. It would be easy to dismiss. There is nothing outside to authenticate, except the witness of religious mystic traditions. And they could all be as crazy and deluded as I am.

It is a choice for me to accept this experience as real, as an authentic experience of the Holy. That choice changes my frameworks. It influences my interpretations. It grounds me in a faith in something more; something unifying and wonderful. Living out of that reality feels more alive than dismissing or forgetting that reality. If it is truly real, then life is more wonderful than I can imagine. If it's not, that's okay too. Just touching the possibility is fulfilling in and of itself.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012 -- Week of 4 Easter
Saint Philip and Saint James, Apostles

Today's Readings for the Daily Office

EITHER
Tuesday of Week of 4 Easter (p. 961)
Psalms 45 (morning) 47, 48 (evening
Exodus 32:21-34
1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
Matthew 5:11-16

OR
Feast of Saints Philip & James (p. 997)
Morning Prayer: Psalm 119:137-160 / Job 23:1-12 / John 1:43-51
Evening Prayer: Psalm 139/ Proverbs 4:7-18 / John 12:20-26

I chose the readings for Tuesday of 4 Easter

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

What would we call it today? A slaughter; a massacre; religious genocide?

Moses returns from his absence on the mountain and finds that the people have turned from their loyalty to the God of Abraham and made a golden idol of a bull, a symbol of power and fecundity. They have been feasting and engaging in acts of religious or wanton sex, according to the custom of some cultic rituals. Moses confronts his brother Aaron, who offers a pitiful excuse. From the camp gate Moses cries, "Who is on the Lord's side? Come to me!" The sons of Levi respond, and Moses has them take swords and set upon the camp. "Go back and forth from gate to gate throughout the camp, and each of you kill your brother, your friend, and your neighbor." The text says that about three thousand people died that day. (A comparison: Over 900 died in the Jonestown, Guyana, suicide-killings among the People's Temple cult of Jim Jones.)

Taken at face value, it is a grizzly story. It darkens deeply the narrative of Moses. If it is a memory of the days of the Exodus, the story may reflect a rebellion or civil war against Moses leadership, which Moses had to put down by force.

Some scholars have speculated that there may be other influences present in the story as it comes to us. The text of the long Sinai section of Exodus was composed largely by the Priestly tradition of redactors, written sometime after the fall in 587 BCE. The Priestly writers had access to many very ancient traditions, stories and texts. As they put their particular stamp upon the material, they emphasized their central priestly interest over various cultic matters involving the tabernacle, sacred objects, sacrifices and priesthood.

From the perspective of the Priestly writers, there is another civil war and rebellion that is of great significance: Jeroboam's rebellion in the 900's BCE which separated the Northern Kingdom (Israel) from the Southern Kingdom (Judah) and established a rival capital in Shechem. To prevent his people from returning to the Temple in Jerusalem, Jeroboam erected two temples at the ends of his Northern Kingdom, one in Dan and one in Bethel. He made two statues of a golden calf, one for each shrine, and he spoke the same words over them as Aaron says in Exodus: "Here are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt." (1 Kings 12:28)

The Priestly authors are loyal to Jerusalem and to the Southern Kingdom. They want to condemn the apostasy of Jeroboam. Some scholars think that they have linked the story of Jeroboam with the story of the calf in Exodus. A few think the Exodus story was created whole as a polemic against the Northern king.

It is very possible that the bull was an alternative symbol representing not the Canaanite deities but the God of Abraham and Moses. In the North, the bull was a symbol of El, with whom the God of Abraham and Moses was identified, possibly as the invisible God atop the bull, much like the invisible God seated upon the cherubim of the Ark of the Covenant.

So, the story of the golden calf in Exodus may be a fiction to condemn the Northern rebellion, or it may have historical roots in the Exodus story, or both. It's hard to know with certainty.

What seems clear is that Moses faced murmurings, conflict and resistance to his leadership in the wilderness. The Hebrew people were challenged and tempted by the established religious cults, rituals and shrines related to the sacred bull traditions. And the division between northern and southern kingdoms created deep scars, present in the Gospel accounts in the hostility between Jew and Samaritan. Doubtless, all of these conflicts were bitter, costly and at times bloody.

As a 21st century Christian, I'm fed up with wars in the name of God. I want the world's powers to use their military might to stop genocide, especially religious genocide. I reject a God who commands slaughter in the name of right belief or ethnic purity. I embrace the God of Jesus Christ who absorbed such violence on the cross. And I turn to an ethic marked by yesterday's gospel reading of the Beatitudes and today's peaceful reminder, "You are the light of the world... [L]et your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." (Matthew 5:14a, 16)

Friday, May 4, 2012 -- Week of 4 Easter
Monnica, Mother of Augustine of Hippo

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 961)
Psalms 40, 54 (morning) // 51 (evening)
Exodus 34:18-35
1 Thessalonians 3:1-13
Matthew 5:27-37

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

One's first duty is adoration, and one's second duty is awe and only one's third duty is service. And that for those three things and nothing else, addressed to God and no one else, you and I and countless human creatures evolved... We observe then that two of the three things for which our souls were made are matters of attitude, or relation: adoration and awe. Unless these two are right, the last of the triad, service, won't be right. *

I read that exquisite quote in the wee hours of the morning when I couldn't sleep last night. I couldn't sleep last night because I was thinking about all of the things I need to do, most of them matters of "service." Today's gospel reading from Matthew ends, "Let your word be 'Yes, Yes' or 'No, No';" But I've said "Yes, Yes" too often instead of accepting my limitations and saying "No, No." So, as I should be asleep, resting -- I'm thinking, planning, organizing, worrying. How will I keep too many promises?

Our Exodus reading today insists that we keep sabbath and set aside times of holiday. "Six days shall you work, but on the seventh day you shall rest; even in plowing time and in harvest time you shall rest." Rest trumps even the urgency of the intense season.

Adoration first. Awe second. And only after the soul's attitude and relation is set by adoration and awe, comes service.

As if she were reading my mind, Michelle Heyne followed that quote from Evelyn Underhill with another quote, this one from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. It reminds me of what I know. I find that when I take my anxieties and relax, ask God to guide me in my actions, the work happens efficiently, sometimes almost effortlessly, and things work out that I was worried about. Teilhard says it better:

All around us, to right and left, in front and behind, above and below, we have only to go a little beyond the frontier of sensible appearances in order to see the divine welling up and showing through. But it is not only close to us, in front of us, that the divine presence has revealed itself. It has sprung up universally, and we find ourselves so surrounded and transfixed by it, that there is no room left to fall down and adore it, even within ourselves.

* (From Evelyn Underhill, Concerning the Inner Life, as quoted by Michelle Heyne in her fine little book In Your Holy Spirit - available from episcopalbookstore.com)

Monday, May 7, 2012 -- Week of 5 Easter
Harriet Starr Cannon, Religious, 1896

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 963)
Psalms 56, 57, [58] (morning) // 64, 65 (evening)
Leviticus 16:1-19
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today in Leviticus we read Moses instructions about the liturgy of the atonement, a complicated rite of purification involving diverse sacrifices, incense, blood, vestments, curtains, altar, drama and ritual. One of the most interesting parts of the liturgy is the role of the goat for Azazel. After Aaron has made atonement for himself and his house, Aaron takes two goats and casts lots over them. One goat is sacrificed to God as a sin offering for the people, but the other goat is left alive and sent into the wilderness to Azazel.

It may be that Azazel is the name of a goat-demon who was thought to inhabit desolate places. The second goat is driven into the remote wilderness, far from the community, into the wild and dangerous regions.

One goat for God. One goat for Azazel.

There is something powerful about making offering to the dark and wild places. We have emotional and psychological energies that are deep and dangerous. At one point Jesus speaks sharply and dismissively about these urges, "Get thee behind me, Satan." There is some danger in becoming fascinated with the dark side and it's deathly urges. It is not good to dabble with evil.

But many people find spiritual richness when they allow their dreams and subconscious material to rise into consciousness where it can be recognized and acknowledged in order to give our conscious self some power over it. There is a reality and freedom that comes when we outgrow mere repression and gain awareness of the destructive patterns of our thoughts and behavior.

We can recognize that each of us has the potential for terrible acts. We can confess our sins to God and be forgiven. We can also acknowledge our potential for the evil that we have not acted upon. Maybe it is helpful to give those energies to something like Azazel, to the demons in the wilderness where the wild and dangerous things are. We are not to act upon our most primitive urges, but it may be helpful to acknowledge their reality in us, and to give them their due. May thay always remain in the wilderness, away from community.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012 -- Week of 5 Easter
Dame Julian of Norwich, c. 1517

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 963)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) // 68:1-20(21-23)24-36 (evening)
Leviticus 16:20-34
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
Matthew 6:7-15

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

The late J. Neville Ward was an early influence on me. He was an English Methodist who wrote wonderfully insightful books on prayer and spirituality. He had an annual practice to read a different book about the Lord's Prayer every year, and in 1981 he published his own reflections -- The Personal Faith of Jesus: As Revealed in the Lord's Prayer.

I flipped through some of the book this morning, noting a few of my underlines:

There is a sense in which everyone has faith, and everyone behaves quiet loyally and consistently with what he believes, that is to say, what he believes about himself and life. That faith, hugely important as it is, is not the sort that can be or ever is set out in a creed and spoken aloud in some ceremonial rite for all to hear. It is part of the inner life of the mind, the drift of secret thoughts whose precise character we are not sharp enough always to note but whose atmosphere we are breathing all the time.

When he accepted Jesus' view that God wants us to embark on a relationship of trust and love with him instead of a struggle to improve ourselves, a new response to life began to form in him. (p. 15-16)

[Jesus] was certainly drawn to the weak and sensual and broken who know it and long to see life changed into something that will make up for the wasted years, and to those who wait for someone in whose presence they can put down a tremendous burden they have been carrying all their lives. (p. 33)

Grant us now, this very day, the sense of that holy day when all will be satisfied with that which alone truly meets human desire and need. Grant us here and now the joy and affection of that time, and its sense of God, as much as it is possible for them to be enjoyed here and now and by people like us. (p. 51)

Not long ago I read of a boy who was murdered while doing his morning paper route. How can his parents think compassionately about the man who murdered their son? Never, without God. Yet there does not seem to be much hope for us unless they can manage it. Their fury must increase unless they, their son, his attacker, are called into some new kind of life in which people look mercifully at one another, refreshed by understanding. Glimpses of such a life come. The trouble is that they vanish too. It sometimes seems that a thousand eucharists, a thousand Our Fathers have left us much as we were.

...What matters is that as a result of the hundreds of eucharists, Lord's Prayers, and many other experiences mulled over as best you can, you come to understand what it means to live life in the light cast on it by Jesus, and to live it with the new shadow you are trailing now you are in his light. (p. 70, 71)

Monday, May 21, 2012 -- Week of 7 Easter
John Eliot, Missionary among the Algonquin, 1690

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 965)
Psalms 89:1-18 (morning) // 89:1952 (evening)
Joshua 1:1-9
Ephesians 3:1-13
Matthew 8:5-17

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Many of us live with presumptions of privilege, including divine privilege. Sometimes God turns our expectations over, and extends blessing beyond our imagination.

Psalm 89 articulates two expectations of privilege that were core to Israel's identity. "I have sworn an oath to David my servant: I will establish your line for ever." (89:3b-4a) "I shall make his dominion extend from the Great Sea to the River." (89:25)

The Hebrew Scriptures articulate in several places the expectation that God would bless and protect David's royal dynasty for all times. The Scriptures also make a geographic claim. In today's reading in Joshua and elsewhere, Israel hears the promise that God gives them a wide expanse of land, from the Mediterranean all the way to the Euphrates River in modern Iraq.

Those expectations have been defined by many in nationalistic terms, in terms of power and privilege.

Psalm 89 recognizes that God did not keep the promise to David according to their expectations. The Psalmist reminds God of those promises and asks God to restore the monarchy. It is a prayer that will not be answered, a promise that will not be fulfilled, at least not in the expected way.

Even in its brief moment of widest political boundaries, Israel never had sovereignty extending to the Euphrates. For centuries it was a people without land -- a people who learned to live faithfully in exile. God did not fulfill the promise of land, at least not in the expected way.

Today some are reclaiming that latter promise. Christian Zionists promote a map on behalf of Israel that claims God gave Israel the lion's share of the Middle East. They reclaim that geography and urge political action to support it. Yet these are the ancient homes of many other peoples, including many Christians. The potential for conflict is world threatening.

Next to some of these nationalistic claim of power and divine privilege are other traditions, traditions of wider inclusion and blessing.

In our story from Matthew, Jesus remarks on the faith of the Roman Centurion in Capernaum, saying, "Truly I tell you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith. I tell you, many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the heirs of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." (8:10b-12) As Matthew writes, those presumptive "heirs of the kingdom" could be Christians as well as Jews.

In Ephesians we hear a defense of Paul's mission to the Gentiles -- to the "others." "The Gentiles have become fellow heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel." (3:6)

God often surprises us by refusing to meet our expectations of privilege and power, even those articulated in scripture. God often expands the boundaries of divine blessing and inclusion, even toward those people excluded in some accounts of scripture. It seems to be a lesson of history that we create much tragedy and violence when we try to enforce the privileges we presume are ours to claim from God. It seems to me that we are more likely to be following the track of God's intention when we hold our sense of privilege lightly and when we expect to discover God's blessing and presence in the unexpected.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012 -- Week of 7 Easter

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 965)
Psalms 97, 99, [100] (morning) // 94, 95 (evening)
1 Samuel 16:1-13a
Ephesians 3:14-21
Matthew 8:18-27

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's readings include a wonderful prayer (Ephesians) and a picture of stability in the midst of challenge and chaos (Matthew).

Let's start with the prayer. Read it slowly. Claim this prayer for yourself.

I pray that, according to the riches of God's glory, God may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through God's 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 we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

What a marvelous prayer. It strengthens us with God's power and grounds us in God's love, inspiring our trust that Christ dwells in our hearts. Our source and root and grounding is love, for God is love -- love so broad and long, so high and deep that it surpasses all we can know, and fills us with God's own life. With the indwelling of divine love breathing us into being, we are empowered to accomplish more than we can imagine, to the glory of Christ. This is a description of our daily inheritance. Each morning we are invited to accept this gift of loving presence to empower our day.

Will Christ's presence be enough to sustain us through what we must face? What does that love-in-action look like? We see Christ's stabilizing presence in the stories from Matthew's gospel.

Some people face homelessness or other threats to their security. Jesus himself knows their plight and lives with them -- "the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." I have known homeless neighbors who could speak with such authenticity about their trust in Jesus. For some, Jesus is their only hope, for they have nothing of themselves. They know Jesus is with them and near them. I've looked into their eyes, hopeful eyes, and I've recognized the deep trust in Jesus, who they know will not let them down.

Some people find themselves in deadly, life-crushing circumstances. Trapped, stuck, weighed down, oppressed. Jesus liberates us from death. "Let the dead bury their own dead." Jesus offers us resurrection and enough self-definition to enable us to separate from unhealthy dependencies and to live with authenticity and power.

Many of us experience times of chaos, when we feel overwhelmed, like we are sinking and swamped. Jesus is in the boat with us. He can rebuke the winds that we fear will overcome us; he can bring calm to our raging seas. Dwelling within us, in the center of our being, Jesus is the stillpoint of peace.

Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012 -- Week of 7 Easter
Nicolaus Copernicus and Johannes Kepler, Astronomers, 1543

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 965)
Psalms 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30 (morning) // 19:121-144 (evening)
Isaiah 4:2-6
Ephesians 4:1-16
Matthew 8:28-34

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

The witness of scripture invites us into interconnectedness, union -- what Buddhist monk Thich Naht Hahn calls "interbeing" -- the reality that we are all connected with each other in an intimate relationship of unity and interdependence. That's a theme found in every enduring religion. This passage in Ephesians is one of our Christian treasures about that theme. The upcoming Feast of Pentecost is one of our festivals about that theme.

For Americans, a deep sense of oneness with humanity may be somewhat counter-cultural. We are taught to be independent and self-reliant. We reserve our deepest forms of pride for individual accomplishment.

The writer of Ephesians seems to know this. The appeal for unity begins with an exhortation on behalf of the virtues of humility, gentleness and patience -- the precursors to interconnectedness, the antidote to individualistic pride.

It's not easy to live in a world with other people. Only in a context of humility, gentleness and patience will we be willing to "maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace."

It is profound to say there is "one body and one Spirit, ...one hope, ...one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all." A mystery. And I think it is a mistake to use this hymn of union to divide humanity into a religious "us" and "them," limiting the Spirit to only the one form of faith and the baptism of our particular religion. I am convinced that there is a greater unity than can be employed by any single religion. God's Spirit is ubiquitous. With humility, gentleness and patience we can recognize the Spirit universally, in other faiths and baptisms, and honor our interconnectedness.

Our organic union with God's humanity is the context for the use of our individual gifts. Our call is to grow up, to become mature, to help humanity evolve consciously together as a race. The image is organic. We belong to a body. Each of us are members of that body. We work together to help the body heal and mature. All are included.

Go through this day with an intentional sense of organic unity with each person you encounter. Claim every person you encounter, in person or online, and connect with everyone you read about in the news or see on the television as though they were part of your own body. Begin with an ethos of humility, gentleness and patience. See if you can deepen your connectedness into an experience of being one in union with all. Then use your gifts for the good of the body. See if you don't experience a more satisfying and deeper context for your own work and actions, in union with all.

Friday, May 25, 2012 -- Week of 7 Easter, Year Two
Bede, the Venerable, Priest, and Monk of Jarrow, 735

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 965)
Psalms 102 (morning) // 107:1-32 (evening)
Jeremiah 31:27-34
Ephesians 5:1-20
Matthew 9:9-17

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

In the Ten Commandments and again in the covenant begun in Exodus 34, we hear ominous words of judgment passed down from generation to generation. God speaks as one who will visit the iniquity of the parents upon the children to the third and fourth generation.
During a time of national threat and chastisement, Jeremiah's generation feels the weight of that curse. In the early years of Jeremiah's vocation, the good King Josiah had inspired a revival of faithfulness and observance of the Law. But Josiah died suddenly in battle, and political and religious hopes unraveled quickly. The people became disillusioned and helpless. Much of Jeremiah's testament gives words to their misery and suffering.

But now, Jeremiah speaks words of hope. He says to them, You've seen the tragedy -- "I have watched over them to pluck up and break down, to overthrow, destroy, and bring evil." Now God is planning good -- "so I will watch over them to build and to plant."

Throw off the helpless feeling of doom, the destiny to live out the curse of your ancestors' wrongdoing. The rules have changed. No longer will you speak the old folk maxim "The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge." But now, each will be responsible for your own actions and not inherit the curse from your parents.

Jeremiah speaks of a new covenant. The law will no longer be a set of external words of instruction, but an internal presence in your hearts. You will know God intuitively, immediately. You will no longer reference the external teachings, but God will live in your heart.

That religion of the heart is what we aspire to. At the feast of Pentecost, Christians say that God's Spirit, God's own life is in us at the center of our being. We are made one with God in the Spirit. We call that our new covenant. It releases us from the curse of the past through forgiveness and regeneration. It guides us into a new future through the indwelling of the Spirit.

Today, let us walk in the Spirit. Let the intuitive presence of God guide and lead us. It is our inheritance. It is our blessing. God is with us. Jeremiah's hope has come true in the gift of the Spirit through Jesus: "For they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity and remember their sin no more."

Monday, May 28, 2012 -- Week of Proper 3, Year Two
John Calvin, Theolotgian, 1564

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 969)
Psalms 25 (morning) // 9, 15 (evening)
Proverbs 10:1-12
1 Timothy 1:1-17
Matthew 12:22-32

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

On Memorial Day there is something I can think of that would be an appropriate act of solidarity with those who have sacrificed for the protection of freedom and for the security of our families. It would be to go to the U.S. Citizenship and and Immigration Services website and offer a comment to support a proposed rule change that would allow families to stay together in this country while they petition for residency status for one of their loved ones.

Currently, if a U.S. citizen wants to petition for a parent or spouse or child to be allowed to waive the requirement for their family member who does not have legal status in this country to be able to apply for a hardship waiver, that immigrant has to leave their family in this country and risk a 3 to 10 year wait in their country of origin, hoping their application will be approved. These things usually take years.

Families are unwilling to let their bread-winner, or their child, go back to a country that they may have left a decade ago or more, on the chance that they will be given a wavier. What is the family to do in the meantime?

Maria is a local mother of three children -- all citizens of the U.S. Maria was brought here by her husband when she was seventeen. They entered illegally in a harrowing walk through the desert. She's been here seventeen years. She's an upstanding neighbor and a regular parent volunteer in two local schools. She would like to apply for legal status. To do so, she would have to leave her three children -- 16, 12, and 10 -- in order to apply for residency. She's now a single mother. She can't do that.

But there is hope. There is a proposed policy change that could help good people like Maria. The U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) is proposing a rule that would allow an application for a provisional waiver of the 3-to-10 year bar while remaining in the U.S. If Maria could show that her being barred for that time would pose an extreme hardship on a U.S. citizen, she could pursue legal status without having to abandon her family or taking them to a country they do not know.

For those of us who are pro-family, this is good news. But we need to speak up now to support the proposed rule change. USCIS is taking comments on the rule through the end of May. Go to www.nilc.org/statesidewaiver.html to learn more. Or to submit your own comment, to go http://tinyurl.com/crsfgz2 (note the widow only stays open for 20 minutes, so work quickly).

Hurry. You've only got through this Thursday. Help our laws keep families together rather than separating them. Submit your comment of support to give families like Maria a chance to stay together, a chance for a good life.

What a good thing to do on Memorial Day. Advocate for families who wish to pursue the American Dream -- to live in freedom. Advance the values so many have given their lives for.

"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" (inscription on the Statue of Liberty)

Tuesday, May 29, 2012 -- Week of Proper 3, Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 969)
Psalms 26, 28 (morning) // 36, 39 (evening)
Proverbs 15:16-33
1 Timothy 1:18 - 2:8
Matthew 12:33-42

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

The LORD tears down the house of the proud,
but maintains the widow's boundaries. (Proverbs 15:25)

It does seem that when we rely on our own powers and seek control to bring about our self-directed ends that things tend to unravel.

Sometimes they unravel through circumstance and failure. We meet our limits. We wear out in frustration or find we can't maintain control of all that we feel responsible for. We mess up. We don't live up to our intentions. The proud house cracks and crumbles.

Sometimes they unravel through success and accomplishment. We meet our goals and gain our ends, but they prove ultimately unsatisfying. They are like cotton candy, big and beautiful with a burst of instant sweetness, but once consumed, they melt into air and do not sustain. We look for the next big thing, like a restless addict. The big, proud house feels empty and cold.

The widow is a model of vulnerable trust. With no status and power of her own, she trusts God alone for her simple needs. Within her modest boundaries the Spirit maintains her essential needs with gentle grace.

Centering Prayer is a widow's prayer. When we practice Centering, we gently let go of all of our distracting thoughts and plans and worries. We narrow our boundaries to a willing consent to the presence and activity of God, within and without. When the false self tries to erect it's proud houses, we let them go, returning to the gentle poverty of a sacred word. Instead of assailing heaven with our possessive thoughts and personal agendas, we let the Spirit pray from within our silence. The indwelling Spirit prays faithfully and continually.

When the Spirit dwells within a person, from the moment that person has become prayer, the Spirit never leaves them. For the Spirit himself never ceases to pray within us. Whether we are asleep or awake, from then on prayer never departs from our soul. Whether we are eating or drinking or sleeping or whatever else we may be doing, even if we are in the deepest of sleeps, the incense of prayer is rising without effort in our heart. Prayer never again deserts us. In every moment of our life, even when it appears to have ceased, prayer is secretly at work within is continuously.

One of the Fathers, the bearers of Christ, teaches that prayer is the silence of the pure in heart; for their very thoughts are the movements of God. The movements of the heart and the intellect that have been purified become voices full of sweetness with which such people never cease to sing in secret to the hidden God.
(Isaac of Nineveh, from The Ascetical Treatises; quoted by Robert Atwell, Celebrating the Seasons, Canterbury Press, 1999, p.296.)

Wednesday, May 30, 2012 -- Week of Proper 3, Year Two
Jeanne d'Arc (Joan of Arc), Mystic and Soldier, 1431

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 969)
Psalms 38 (morning) // 119:25-48 (evening)
Proverbs 17:1-20
1 Timothy 3:1-16
Matthew 12:43-50

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

There is something disappointing, but understandable, that happens when we move from reading the letters from the apostle Paul to reading letters like 1 Timothy, written by a later generation's leader invoking Paul's authority. We sense the development of a different focus and vision and structure.

In Paul's letters we feel the tension and excitement of the expected imminent return of Jesus. Long-term institutions like marriage have little interest to Paul since they are part of the passing age; Paul encourages sexual passion to be diverted into passion for the Lord. Paul welcomes charismatic leadership -- let anyone with gifts use them for the common good. Women host churches and have active leadership. Faith is a verb. Faith is our active trust in God, who has made us righteous, who gives us the gift of an intimate, alive relationship with God in the living Christ. There is a new energy and vision in Paul that is dynamic and expansive.

In the letters to Timothy and Titus we see the church at a later point of evolution. Jesus is no longer expected to return at any moment, but we celebrate his remembered appearance, as we await with patient endurance his eventual postponed manifestation "at the right time." It is a time of institutional focus -- the time of making by-laws and constitutions. Leaders are less charismatic and more respectable. Marriage is the honored estate for enfolding passion and raising children. Faith is a noun, a collection of traditions to be guarded and preserved. Women are silenced. There is a defensive establishment of order and authority to protect and administer the institutional church.

Some evolution is necessary when any movement becomes an institution. When vision becomes established norms, there is a needed entrenchment of structure and order for the continuation of the work and identity.

Healthy institutions need both kinds of leaders -- the visionary and the orderly. Often they exist side-by-side with one another, usually with some tension. "Respond now to this compelling need!" cries the visionary, connecting the original spirit of Jesus' calling to the circumstances of the present age. "How will we pay for it and maintain it?" asks the orderly leader who creates foundation and structure for an ongoing ministry of presence and service.

There is a cross-like creative tension when we live in visionary institutions like the church, as we hold on to both demands. Too much energetic vision creates chaos. Too much orderly structure make a deadened institution.

How can structure serve vision? How can institution promote inspiration and service? How can tradition support renewal? That is our constant quest in the church. We see the same dynamic in our political and social institutions, even in our marriages. Energy and stability. Innovation and continuity. Risk and endurance. Nearly anything with life and durability needs both vision and order.

Friday, June 1, 2012 -- Week of Proper 3, Year Two
Justin, Martyr at Rome, c. 167

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 969)
Psalms 31 (morning) // 35 (evening)
Proverbs 23:19-21, 29 - 24:2
1 Timothy 4:1-16
Matthew 13:24-30

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Proverbs: Do not be among winebibbers, or among gluttonous eaters of meat... Who has woe? Who has sorrow? ...Who has redness of eyes? Those who linger late over wine....

1 Timothy: No longer drink only water, but take a little wine for the sake of your stomach and your frequent ailments.

The wisdom and practical advice of Proverbs urges a young noble to live a disciplined life of moderation. Gluttony in all of its forms has its own consequences.

In many ways, portions of 1 Timothy pick up the same tradition as Proverbs, intending to offer sage advice and wisdom to a still young, but maturing church. The elders who lead well are to be paid and respected. There is a provision for dealing with disciplinary issues. Both writings presume that justice and virtue will prevail over time.

Picking up the mantle of wisdom, Jesus too teaches in proverbs. Like a master teacher he adds drama and illustration to his instruction, offering his insights through parables. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed..., like yeast, ...a pearl of great value. In the tradition of the proverbial wisdom, Jesus points toward the small things that yield big consequences. Virtues practiced for their own sake do indeed have their rewards.

Virtue, discipline and moderation. These are subjects that sometimes do not have a lot of sex appeal or entertainment value. Reading Proverbs and 1 Timothy can feel a bit tedious, especially compared with the drama of the passion of the Psalms or the narratives of the Gospels. But there is great value in the traditions of pithy wisdom.

Maybe it is no coincidence that some of the greatest proverbial wisdom of the twentieth century comes from the spirituality of the twelve-step recovery traditions. We see Proverbs and 1 Timothy address the powerful destructive tendencies of gluttony and addiction. In our age, recovery disciplines have offered some of our wisest collections of proverbs for living with virtue, discipline and moderation:

Let go and let God. One day at a time. First things first. Live and let live. Time takes time. Cultivate an attitude of gratitude. Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. Live life on life's terms. You can't think your way into a new way of living... you have to live your way into a new way of thinking. Your worth should never depend on another person's opinion. Learn to listen and listen to learn. Nothing changes if nothing changes. Feelings are not facts. Progress, not perfection. Keep it simple. This too shall pass. Easy does it. Keep coming back.

Pearls of wisdom. They are much more than ornaments or decoration.

Monday, June 4, 2012 -- Week of Proper 4, Year Two
John XXIII (Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli), Bishop of Rome, 1963

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 969)
Psalms 41, 52 (morning) // 44 (evening)
Ecclesiastes 2:1-15
Galatians 1:1-17
Matthew 13:44-52

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field...

Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old. (Matthew 13:44, 52)

Today we have the observance of the feast day proposed for John XXIII, elected Pope in 1958 when he was 77 years old. During the first year of his pontificate, he called the Second Vatican Council which revitalized and renewed the Roman Catholic Church. Some would say Vatican II brought the Catholic Church into the twentieth century. John XXIII was certainly a breath of fresh air for those of us in other branches of Christianity.

I can't account for its historicity, but the story is told that when John announced that Protestants would be invited to observe the council, a conservative cardinal objected, saying, "But Your Holiness, Protestants are heretics!" "Do not say, 'heretics,' my son. Say, 'separated brethren.'" "They are in league with the devil!" "Do not say, 'devil,' my son. Say, 'separated angel.'"

Our reading today from Matthew starts with the brief parable of the treasure in the field and of the pearl of great value. Upon finding what is precious, the wise one sells all for it. The reading ends with Matthew's example of the good scribe who "brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old." John XXIII saw the deep value of embracing the church's tradition and "selling all" to re-formulate it faithfully for a new generation.

From his opening address to the Second Vatican Council, October 1962:

The major interest of the ecumenical council is this: that the sacred heritage of Christian truth be safeguarded and expounded with greater efficacy...

Our duty is not just to guard this treasure, as though it were some museum-piece and we the curators, but earnestly and fearlessly to dedicate ourselves to the work that needs to be done in this modern age of ours, pursuing the path which the Church has followed for almost twenty centuries. Nor are we here primarily to discuss certain fundamentals of Catholic doctrine, or to restate in greater detail the traditional teachings of the Fathers and of early and more recent theologians. There was no need to call a council merely to hold discussions of that sort.

What is needed at the present time is a new enthusiasm, a new joy and serenity of mind in the unreserved acceptance by all of the entire Christian faith. What is needed -- and what everyone imbued with a truly Christian, Catholic, and apostolic spirit craves today -- is that this doctrine shall be more widely known, more deeply understood, and more penetrating in its effects on people's moral lives. What is needed is that this certain and immutable doctrine, to which the faithful owe obedience, be studied afresh and reformulated in contemporary terms. For this deposit of faith, or truths which are contained in our time-honored teaching, is one thing; the manner in which these truths are set forth (with their meaning preserved intact) is something else. (from Celebrating the Saints, Robert Atwell, Canterbury Press, 2004.)

How can each of us in our lives today make the great treasure we have inherited more alive and more vital through our witness and service, with "a new enthusiasm, a new joy and serenity of mind"?

Tuesday, June 5, 2012 -- Week of Proper 4, Year Two
Boniface, Archbishop of Mainz, Missionary to Germany, and Maryr, 754

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 969)
Psalms 45 (morning) // 47, 48 (evening)
Ecclesiastes 2:16-26
Galatians 1:18 - 2:10
Matthew 13:53-58

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

"All is vanity and a chasing after wind" we read today as the Teacher is finishing his prologue of Ecclesiastes. The wise and the foolish alike die, he says. Maybe I am wise and industrious. So what! I may leave it all to a fool. "There is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink, and find enjoyment in their toil." Enjoy life as much as you can, remembering the nearness of death. One doesn't work to become rich -- you can't take it with you and a fool may get it when you die. One doesn't work to create something great or become powerful. You'll die like anyone else. But as you can, find enjoyment in the work you do for its own sake. That's enough.

Eat and drink. And find enjoyment in your toil. Be wise. Die. That's about as good as it gets. Be satisfied with that, he says.

Today is the feast of St. Boniface, who built on the foundation of St. Willibrord in Frisia, areas along the coast of the North Sea now parts of Denmark, Germany and the Netherlands. Willibrord had labored for around 50 years to plant the church in that area, but virtually nothing had survived from his labors.

Here's a portion of a letter that Boniface wrote to Cuthbert, Archbishop of Canterbury, as Boniface was trying to succeed where Willibrord had seemed to fail.

My dear brother, I fear we have undertaken to steer a ship through the waves of an angry sea, and we can neither succeed in our task, nor without sin abandon it... In the Church of which I have oversight, I have dug the ground over, manured the soil, but I am conscious that I have failed to guard it. Alas, all my labor seems to me like a dog barking at the approach of thieves and robbers, but because he has no one to help him in his defense, he can only sit there, whining and complaining... I take refuge in the words of Solomon: 'Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insights. In all your ways, think on the Lord and he will guide your steps...'

Let us never be dogs that do not bark, nor silent bystanders, or hired servants who flee at the approach of the wolf. Instead let us be watchful shepherds, guarding the flock of Christ. And as God gives us strength, in season and out of season, let us preach to the powerful and powerless alike, to rich and poor alike, to all people of every rank and of whatever age, the saving purposes of God. (quoted in Celebrating the Saints, Robert Atwell, Canterbury, 2004, p. 303-4)

Mother Teresa said, "God doesn't require us to succeed; he only requires that you try." The Teacher of Ecclesiastes would add to that an invitation to enjoy the work as you can. Sometimes we get into situations where success does not seem to be an option, only faithfulness. We can only hold on, we cannot steer. In his letter to Cuthbert, Bonface amplifies his situation of trying to steer in an angry sea, saying, "it is our duty not to abandon ship, but to control the rudder."

We are reading Paul's letter to Galatia, a fierce and at times furious defense of his gospel which is under attack. Paul is trying to hold on to the rudder, asserting that the Gentile converts in his congregation will not submit to circumcision or follow the Jewish law no matter what.
Today we read also of Jesus' teaching in his hometown synagogue, where the locals refuse to let him grow up. Jesus fails there.

"All is vanity and a chasing after wind." (Ecclesiastes) "We did not submit to them even for a moment." (Paul) "And [Jesus] did not do many deeds of power there, because of their unbelief." (Matthew)

Life is hard. Life is mysterious. Eat and drink. Be wise. Enjoy your work as you can. Accept death. That's enough, says the Teacher of Ecclesiastes. Hold on to the rudder, says Boniface. Persevere, says Paul. Sometimes even Jesus can't succeed, says Matthew.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012 -- Week of Proper 4, Year Two
Ini Kipuria, Founder of the Melanesian Brotherhood, 1945

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 969)
Psalms 119:49-72 (morning) // 49, [53] (evening)
Ecclesiastes 3:1-15
Galatians 2:11-21
Matthew 14:1-12

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today Paul recounts when he challenged Peter. Peter had been eating unkosher food with the Gentiles until the arrival of some conservative Jews (the circumcision party). "But after they came, he drew back and kept himself separate for fear of the circumcision faction."

In "The Access Bible" there is a footnote for Galatians 2:14. The original verse reads (in translation, of course) "If you, though a Jew, live like a Gentile and not like a Jew, how can you compel the Gentiles to live like Jews?" The footnote offers an alternative paraphrase: "How can you meet gentiles half way (not keep food laws), then require them to go the whole way (be circumcised)?"

It struck me how similar this dispute is to the arguments we have had for years in the church, particularly through our resolutions at General Convention. We say that homosexual persons are children of God with a claim on the pastoral ministry of the church (1976). But some of us say that homosexual persons cannot act upon their sexual orientation, but must remain celibate or act as heterosexuals. Some heterosexuals will require that impediment of their gay neighbors even as they themselves freely admit that they cannot live fruitfully as celibates. I hear the echo of Paul's question: How can you meet homosexual persons half way (you are a child of God), then require them to go the whole way (but you must remain celibate forever)? If you, a heterosexual, cannot live as a celibate, how can you compel homosexuals to do so?

I know that will not be convincing to those who believe same-sex orientation is disordered. I'm not expecting to change minds. But I am struck how similar it feels to me to be one of those who is urging the church to apply the same high standards of faithfulness and commitment to homosexuals that we apply to heterosexuals in our intimate relationships. I hope the church will choose to offer to gay people the same blessing of support that we offer to straight people.

Paul argued similarly for full inclusion of Gentiles into the church -- as people equally called, redeemed and challenged. The Gentiles are to be part of the body of Christ without having to become circumcised "like us Jews." Paul's great struggle was just this. Can Gentiles be admitted to the church on an equal footing with Jews? Or will Gentiles be required to be circumcised and to adopt the Jewish laws? Paul forcefully argued that the Gentiles are to be freely included and incorporated into the Church. No double standards.

_________________

A quick note about Ecclesiastes. Today we read the famous "To everything there is a season" passage. (I always hear the Byrds "Turn, turn turn" song underneath this passage.) The Teacher's point is that there is a time appointed by God for every extreme and every situation, but human beings know little, if anything about those times. The Teacher includes not just the good times, but also all of the evils and tragedies of life in those divine appointments. And he insists that our knowledge of any of this is extremely limited.

Therefore says the Teacher, trust God in the present, and enjoy life as much as you can enjoy it, given the limitations of circumstance and the near inevitability of death.

His counsel is not unlike that of Jean Pierre de Caussade whose 18th century teaching is often titled "Abandonment to Divine Providence." Accept the circumstances of the present moment with complete abandonment and trust, says Caussade. God is fully present to you in the "sacrament of the present moment." Do not judge the goodness or badness of your circumstances. Accept these circumstances as the form that God is present to you now. The past is done; the future is not; all that is, is in the present moment. Here only is God.

Even if the moment seems evil, simply accept this as the context of God's presence working with you for good, and commit yourself singularly simply to do God's will as it presents itself in the present moment. That is perfect life, says de Caussade. Or as he might say in the language of the Teacher, "all else is vanity."

Friday, June 8, 2012 -- Week of Proper 4, Year Two
Roland Allen, Mission Strategist, 1947

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 969)
Psalms 40, 54 (morning) // 51 (evening)
Ecclesiastes 5:1-7
Galatians 3:15-22
Matthew 14:22-36

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

As I read today's story from Matthew, my mind is filled with pictures from our trip to the Holy Land a couple of years ago.

There is a fishing boat from Jesus' era that has been preserved after it was discovered in the Sea of Galilee a few years ago during a drought. The story of its delicate exhumation and preservation is a good story in itself. The remains of the craft have been reconstructed, and there are fascinating graphics of its original construction and repeated repair with twelve different kinds of wood. It seems remarkably small, almost 27 feet long, 7 1/2 feet wide, and less than four feet deep. Not the kind of ship you would want ride in a storm.

There is a little bay called Tagba, which has several springs that carry fresh water into the Galillean sea. Because of the flow of water it was a traditional place for fishermen to wash their nets. It was easy to imagine Jesus calling the disciples in a similar setting as they washed and repaired their nets along the sandy, rocky shore.

Above Tagba on the bluff, is a place called "Eremos" -- "a lonely place." There is a shallow cave there that imagination and some tradition identifies as a lonely place where Jesus may have retreated for prayer. It is this place that is in my mind when I read today how Jesus, "after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray." For me, sitting in that cave was a thin place of contact with Jesus and those days.

They say that storms can come up quickly on the Sea of Galilee. Warm, moist air blows in from the Mediterranian, hits the mountains just west of Galilee and combines with the local atmosphere pushed by the inland water and desert influences. Quick, fierce storms can hit without much warning.

From the cave at the lonely place overlooking the sea, Jesus could observe the approach of menacing weather and see a ship foundering off shore.

In Hebrew Scripture there are several passages that speak of God's walking upon the sea. I've heard stories from Asian traditions about holy men who were able to tread across water. I don't know about such things. They are beyond my experience or observing.

But I do know that Jesus walks into our storms, when our small emotional boat feels threatened with capsizing. When the wind and waves of circumstance appear beyond our capacities to navigate or even endure. In such storms, Jesus comes and invites us to have enough courage to risk walking through the fears. It is so easy to look at what threatens us, and to panic. But sometimes we can keep our eyes on Jesus, the stillpoint of calm in the center of the storm, and we can walk through the storm. Focus, trust, perseverance, hope. These things can carry us, especially when our boat is so small and the stormy sea is so big.

Monday, June 11, 2012 -- Week of Proper 5, Year Two
Saint Barnabas the Apostle

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Monday of Proper 5, p. 971
Psalms 56, 57, [58] (morning) // 64, 65 (evening)
Ecclesiastes 7:1-14
Galatians 4:12-20
Matthew 15:21-28

OR the readings for St. Barnabas, p. 998
Morning: Psalms 15, 67; Ecclesiasticus 31:3-11; Acts 4:32-37
Evening: Psalms 19, 146; Job 29:1-16; Acts 9:26-31

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

[I chose the readings for St. Barnabas]

One who loves gold will not be justified;
one who pursues money will be led astray by it.
Many have come to ruin because of gold,
and their destruction has met them face to face.
It is a stumbling block to those who are avid for it
and every fool will be taken captive by it.
Blessed is the rich person who is found blameless,
and who does not go after gold.
Who is he, that we may praise him?
For he has done wonders among his people.
(Ecclesiasticus 31:5-9)

Today we celebrate the feast of Barnabas the Apostle and companion of Paul, who sold his estate and gave the money to the apostles for distribution. We read in Acts today that the community of the resurrection practiced a form of communal living. "Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common." (Acts4:32) That's a passage that's not commonly quoted among those who commonly quote.

No private property; communal ownership. It seemed to work -- "There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold." (Acts 4:34) Barnabas is a shining example of that practice. He sold his estate and brought the money to the apostles. We learn later in Acts that there was a dispute alleging prejudice in the distribution, the widows of the Hellenists complained that they did not get as much as the Hebrew widows. So, the apostles appointed deacons to see to the just and equal distribution. Fourth century emperor Julian the Apostate complained that "the impious Galileans support our poor in addition to their own."

We live in a time when U.S. economic inequality is more extreme than it has been since 1929 on the eve of the Great Depression. Institute for Policy scholar Chuck Collins has recently published a book 99 to 1: How Wealth Inequality is Wrecking the World and What We Can Do About It. He cites evidence that extreme disparities of wealth and power breakdown civic cohesion and social solidarity. Historically when there is great income inequality we tend to offer less support for education, public health care, affordable housing and other programs to level the playing field. Those who can afford to make large contributions to political elections tend to influence public decisions to their own benefit. We've seen a thirty year trend favoring the wealthy and powerful, and now we have more money and power concentrated in fewer hands than since right before the Great Depression. Collins believes there is a connection between income inequality and unhealthy economies.

Ben Sirach, the author of Ecclesiasticus, poetically describes some of the effect of these inequalities. "The rich person toils to amass a fortune, and when he rests he fills himself with his dainties. The poor person toils to make a meager living, and if he ever rests he becomes needy." (31:3-4)

Those of us who toil in the non-profit world know that there are many wealthy persons of conscience like Barnabas, who make significant contributions to the organizations that serve the vulnerable. We are thankful for the charity and generosity that underwrites so many outreach programs.

But how much better served we would be if our whole society had a generous commitment to the common good. Bill Gates, Sr., plainly describes some of the building blocks of a healthy society: "The ladder of opportunity for America's middle class depends on strong and accessible public educational institutions, libraries, state parks and municipal pools. And for America's poor, the ladder of opportunity also includes access to affordable health care, quality public transportation, and childcare assistance." These are things that must be done in the public sector, underwritten by fair, adequate and progressive taxation.

Yesterday our congregation joined many others in participating in Bread for the World's annual "Offering of Letters" campaign, asking congress to place a circle of protection around the programs that are so crucial to the poor. Bread for the World is a Christian voice for the hungry.

Compassionate care for the poor and vulnerable seems to be a characteristically Christian stance in the world. What would it take in our day to create a society where "there was not a needy person among them"?

Tuesday, June 12, 2012 -- Week of Proper 5, Year Two
Enmegahbowh, Priest and Missionary, 1902

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 971)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) // 68:1-20(21-23)24-36 (evening)
Ecclesiastes 8:14 - 9:10
Galatians 5:1-15
Matthew 15:29-39

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

You cannot expect justice, says the Teacher of Ecclesiastes. "There are righteous people who are treated according to the conduct of the wicked, and there are wicked people who are treated according to the conduct of the righteous. I said that this also is vanity."

Study as we may, we will never truly understand truth; we will never comprehend the depths of wisdom or reality. Every scientist knows that each new discovery only brings new questions. "No one can find out what is happening under the sun. However much they may toil in seeking, they will not find it out; even though those who are wise claim to know, they cannot find it out."

Whether we are good and noble, or we are corrupt knaves, we all will die and eventually be forgotten. It is the same end for the good and for the evil, "since the same fate comes to all, to the righteous and the wicked, to the good and the evil, to the clean and the unclean, to those who sacrifice and those who do not sacrifice." Death is the great equalizer. It is better to be alive than to be dead, says the Teacher, "for living dog is better than a dead lion." But the Teacher has no theology of an afterlife of paradise and justice -- "the dead know nothing; they have no more reward, and even the memory of them is lost. Their love and their hate and their envy have already perished; never again will they have any share in all that happens under the sun."

Today's reading in Ecclesiastes summarizes the Teacher's philosophy: Accept the reality that there is no justice; we cannot comprehend wisdom and truth; and we all will die, good and bad alike. The Teacher faces these realities fully and tells us to live while we may live. Enjoy your work while you can. Enjoy your life while you can. "Go, eat your bread with enjoyment, and drink your wine with a merry heart; for God has long ago approved what you do. Let your garments always be white; do not let oil be lacking on your head. Enjoy life with the wife who you love, all the days of your vain life that you are given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do with might; for there is no work or thought or knowledge or wisdom in Sheol, to which you are going."

The appeal is not to mere hedonism. The Teacher advocates virtue and righteous dealing. He only urges us to be modest in our expectations. Do good for its own sake, and enjoy the doing. But don't expect that you will right the wrongs of the world or that you will be rewarded for your good doing. Do good when you can, and enjoy whatever enjoyments you are given.

In a way, Paul makes a similar argument in today's reading from Galatians. He wishes to pop the balloon of those who think they have a system that will assure them of standing before God. Those who follow the law of Torah claim that in their following, they are righteous, they are in the right with humanity and God. Paul says they are only slaves. Slaves to the rules, and thus self-centered in their actions and anxious in their being. Throw it all away, says Paul, and be free. The law is only slavery bringing death. True life, true freedom is a gift. The gift is justification by grace through faith. So enjoy. Accept the gift. You are accepted. Accept the fact that you are accepted. Be free. Alive. Enjoy. When you can, do good. Look toward the needs of others. Be free.

And Jesus feeds the multitude. Everyone. The good and the bad. The lazy and the industrious. Everyone present gets fed. Matthew reproduces word for word much of Mark's earlier account of the feeding of the 4,000. Mark's version makes it clear that this crowd is a Gentile crowd -- foreigners, of a different religion. Although they are not the people of the promise, although they know nothing of the scripture and the traditions, although they do not observe the prayers and ethic of Jesus' people -- Jesus feeds them all. And there is an abundance left over. We might hear an echo of the ancient Teacher's voice: "Go, eat your bread with enjoyment, and drink your wine with a merry heart; for God has long ago approved what you do."

Wednesday, June 13, 2012 -- Week of Proper 5, Year Two
Gilbert Keith Chesterton, Apologist and Writer, 1936

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 971)
Psalms 72 (morning) // 119:73-96 (evening)
Ecclesiastes 9:11-18
Galatians 5:1-15
Matthew 16:1-12

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

(note: yesterday I mistyped today's reading from Galatians. Yesterday's should have been Galatians 4:21-31)

In one of his most exemplary sentences, Paul exclaims, "the only thing that counts is faith working through love." (Galatians 5:6b)

We are at the core of Paul's teaching here. It starts with the mystery of the gift of God through Jesus -- the gift of acceptance, justification. We are offered a whole and right relationship with God. It is a gift. Pure gift. No strings attached whatsoever. You don't have to do anything to be offered the gift. No laws, no performance, no circumcision. All you need do is accept the gift. That's what faith is. The acceptance of the gift of acceptance.

"The only thing that counts is faith working through love." There is an alternative translation. "The only thing that counts is faith made effective through love." You have been lovingly accepted, therefore, love your neighbor -- live in love. For Paul, Christian ethics is acting upon the commandment to love.

First we are accepted and made free as a gift. Accept the gift in faith, says Paul, then make that free gift effective by living in love toward your neighbor. "For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'" Paul says, if there is anyone who compromises this gift by demanding the observance of laws and traditions outside the simple commandment of love, that person is the yeast that is corrupting the gospel. Such teaching is so damaging, Paul says, that he cries out in frustration, "I wish those who unsettle you would castrate themselves!"

Well! That's how strongly Paul feels about those who would turn Christianity into a religion of behavior according to rules and conventions rather than a mysterious living relationship of love grounded in the abundant grace and gift of God.

One more warning. You may activate your faith by living in love, but that doesn't guarantee that you'll have a pleasant, effective or just life. The New Testament reminds us of that by the story of the cross and our invitation to pick up our cross and follow in the way of Jesus, the good and just One who was crucified.

And the ancient Teacher of Ecclesiastes gives voice to that warning today -- "the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to the intelligent, nor favor to the skillful; but time and chance happen to them all." The teacher cites an example of a small city that is saved by the wisdom of one man, but that same man is forgotten later and his advice ignored. It is good to be wise, but don't expect people to pay attention to your wisdom.

Enjoy what you can, says the Teacher. Love, say Jesus and Paul. And be aware that there is much that corrupts and destroys the best we can do.

Monday, June 18, 2012 -- Week of Proper 6, Year Two
Bernard Mizeki, Catechist and Martyr in Mashonaland, 1896

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 971)
Psalms 80 (morning) // 77, [79] (evening)
Numbers 9:15-23; 10:29-36
Romans 1:1-15
Matthew 17:14-21

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

How do you know when to get up and move -- to act decisively -- and when to wait? ...when to simply persevere?

There is something about the image of the Israelites in the wilderness that speaks to me. Today's reading from Numbers says that the Israelites would camp and settle down as long as the cloud rested over the tabernacle. They would not move, but would remain in that place, until the could lifted. How long the cloud might stay upon the tabernacle was unpredictable. "Whether it was two days, or a month, or a longer time, that the cloud continued over the tabernacle, resting upon it, the Israelites would remain in camp and would not set out; but when it lifted they would set out." (Numbers 9:22)

The cloud is the sign of God's presence, and as such an encouraging sign. It is also a symbol of mystery and unknowing. According to Numbers, the tabernacle dwelt at the center of the camp, inside a tent, served by the dwellings of the priestly tribe of Levi.

The scene creates something of a metaphor. God dwells in the center of our being, our source of life and light, yet shrouded in mystery and unknowing. That is holy space, rightly served with consecrated action and devotion. It is each person's priestly role to attend to the holy center of our being.

So often the cloud is there. We experience the cloud of unknowing, the desire for direction as we move through the wilderness. There are times when we feel stuck, with no sense of direction. It seems the best we can do is to stay put and survive -- look for water and nourishment in this place. Let go of the lure to move in a new direction. Just settle in and tend to the nearby essentials.

There is the cloud that can cover our mood and emotions. We have no direction. We feel the lack of a future. We go through the daily motions, but each day we wake in the same wilderness, not knowing when things will change.

In the scriptures, the cloud is often the sign of the presence of God. It is not a comfortable presence. A sense of foreboding or awe often accompanies the cloud. The cloud of life is so much stronger than we are. We do not know what it will do or where it will take us. In the presence of the cloud, we are so small.

When the cloud rests upon us, there is nothing we can do but wait. To flee, to run into the wilderness without direction would be folly and would only complicate and threaten our survival. When the cloud settles, there is nothing to do but to rest, and to take care of the common chores of life and reverence.

Yet it is an anticipating, active rest. We rest trusting that the cloud will lift, whether it will be "two days, or a month, or a longer time," the cloud will lift. Eventually there will be time to move. And when that time comes, we will have the energy to move, to travel through the wilderness, to make some progress in the journey toward promise.

It takes trust -- faith -- to believe that the cloud will indeed lift one day and you will be able to move.

Jesus says something about faith in today's reading from Matthew. Jesus tells his disciples, "truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you." (Matthew 17:20)

I now read that verse with a bit of tweaking to its interpretation. I used to think, if I could just muster enough faith ("mustard-seed" enough faith) then God would make things happen almost magically. There may be another way of thinking about this word. Mark sets this passage as being spoken while Jesus and his disciples are on the road between Bethany and Jerusalem. Jesus says to his disciples, "Truly I tell you, if you say to this mountain, 'Be taken up and thrown into the sea,' and if you do not doubt in your heart, but believe that what you say will come to pass, it will be done for you." (Mark 11:24)

A portion of the road between Bethany and Jerusalem is dominated by the Herodian fortress. It was built under the direction of Herod the Great. Workers literally moved a mountain, bucket by bucket, to create a palace and military fort some fifty years before Jesus' ministry. Spoken in that context, Jesus' words about the faith that moves mountains could be an encouragement to simple perseverance. One shovel-full at a time, one bucket at a time, one step at a time -- and over time, the mountain is moved.

The cloud and the mountain are both images of divine presence, and they beautifully combine in the story of Christ's Transfiguration.

Every day we live in the presence. Some days and for some long periods, the cloud stays over us and does not move. So we stay in that place and we persevere with trust. One shovel and one step at a time. Believing that the mountain will move. Trusting that the cloud will lift and lead us. Lead us through our wilderness. Lead us ultimately to the promise of divine union.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012 -- Week of Proper 6, Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 971)
Psalms 78:1-39 (morning) // 78:40-72 (evening)
Numbers 11:1-23
Romans 1:16-25
Matthew 17:22-27

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

I'm thinking out loud here. It may not make any sense when I'm finished.

The scene is in Capernaum, Peter's hometown and the headquarters for Jesus' ministry. By now Jesus is known as a rabbi with some following. Someone approaches Peter to ask about his rabbi's opinion on a topic of rabbinical debate -- the Temple tax. The tradition called for the payment of a half-shekel (didrachma) tax by all registered adults age twenty and above for the upkeep of the Temple. From the perspective of Exodus 30:11f it seems to be a one-time donation at one's original registration. But from the context of Nehemiah 10:32f it sounds more like an annual tax. Rabbis had various interpretations to defend their views on whether this obligation was annual or singular. So the question posed to Peter might have been, "Which interpretation does your rabbi teach?"

But there is another interpretation of the question that might have been inserted by Matthew. After 70 CE, Rome imposed a two-drachma tax on Jews for the upkeep of the temple to Jupiter. Many Jews found that tax to be humiliating and blasphemous. So to Matthew the question might have been, "Does your teacher pay the tax to Jupiter's temple or does he promote rebellion?" Peter's response, "Yes, he does (pay the tax)" works better in this context. Matthew offers documentation for political cover that Jesus, who was executed as an enemy of Rome, was not a rebel or a threat to the empire's order. He paid the Roman tax. The Christian movement is not a threat and is not disloyal to Caesar. No cause to persecute us.

The conversation that follows between Peter and Jesus has some depth of color. "What do you think, Simon? From whom do kings of the earth take toll or tribute? From their children or from others?" Easy answer -- from others.

Here I am poised to go on a rant. For the past thirty years the wealthy and powerful in this country have consistently manipulated the tax system to their advantage, further concentrating wealth and power in fewer hands. In our state of Arkansas, it takes a 3/4th majority to pass a progressive tax like the income tax, but only a simple majority to pass a regressive sales tax. Therefore we end up in the ironic situation where the lowest 20% and the next lowest 20% and the middle 20% all pay about twice the percentage of their income in taxes as the top 1%.

During the first decade of the 21st century, politicians more aligned with the interests of the wealthy than the poor inherited a budget surplus and created a massive federal deficit by not funding two wars, by not funding a needed Medicare drug benefit and passing the expensive version favored by the drug industry rather than by consumers, by creating large tax cuts predominately benefiting the wealthy, and by failing to regulate financial speculation by the super-wealthy. It all devolved to bust the economic system and create a massive deficit. Now, those who are largely responsible for the deficit seem to want to lower it by cutting programs that benefit the poor and vulnerable. "From whom do kings of the earth take toll or tribute?" [end of rant]

"Then the children are free," said Jesus. What does that mean?

This story follows closely upon the heels of the Transfiguration, where we have heard the voice from heaven proclaim, "This is my Son..." Elsewhere Jesus identifies himself in union with his disciples, especially in John. The children of God, the King of kings, are free. There is a higher law, a higher identity, a higher obligation.

Yet for the sake of community peace, Jesus says: "However, so that we do not give offense to them, go to the sea and cast a hook." Fishing is Peter's business. It is his work and his source of income. Jesus sends him to pay the taxes (whether Jewish or Roman) through his working income. Yet God provides the miraculous catch for Peter the fisherman. In the mouth of the first fish will be a stater, the equivalent of two didrachmas, the temple tax for two persons (either Jerusalem or Jupiter's temple).

So, for the sake of community, for the sake of the common good, Jesus pays the taxes without making a statement of judgment about them other than asserting the child of God's ultimate freedom from such things. Jesus doesn't weigh in on the rabbinical debate about the minimalist once-in-a-lifetime or the more demanding annual Temple tax. Matthew doesn't form an interpretation for a tax revolt against the hated toll for the temple of Jupiter. Jesus simply asserts the children's freedom under God, and he then acts for the sake of community peace.

As a free child of God I am particularly pleased to pay taxes when they support the common good and when they go to the cause of creating a healthy and vibrant community. I want the finest educational opportunities to be available to all, adequate security, modes of public transportation available for all including those who may not afford a car, infrastructure for creativity in business and other human pursuits, parks and museums that welcome everyone, shelter, security in old age, and universal access to health care. These seem like the building blocks of a healthy and just society. It takes a temple tax to support a temple.

I am not so pleased to pay taxes for foolish wars and for the promotion of prejudicial or elitist policies. But there is no way to parse out the taxes. So, in order not to give offense, I go fishing every day -- I go to work -- and God provides. But I do wish that God would provide more for the poor and a more generous spirit among the wealthy and powerful, for the sake of community and the common good.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012 -- Week of Proper 6, Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 971)
Psalms 119:97-120 (morning) 81, 82 (evening)
Numbers 11:24-33 (34-35)
Romans 1:28 - 2:11
Matthew 18:1-9

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Many years ago I noticed that our Daily Office Lectionary skips two verses in Romans 1, verses 26-27. They are two of the most controversial verses in the New Testament. I thought to myself, "Ah, ha! A little political correctness in the new Prayer Book." (The new Book of Common Prayer was authorized in 1979). So I looked up the lectionary in the old book, the 1928 Prayer Book. The second lesson for Evening Prayer on the 7th Sunday after Trinity is Romans 1:17-21, 28-32. What do you know? These verses haven't been used in the lectionary for a very long time, if ever.

But I've heard them quoted more than nearly any other two verses with reference to the church's debate over same-sex relationships.

Yesterday we read the beginning of Paul's argument. He is setting up to make his case for justification by faith apart from works. He wants to emphasize that all have sinned -- the Gentiles who followed their futile ways in idolatry and the Jews (his primary audience in this book) who have followed the law in vain.

First he is speaking of the futility of Gentile idolatry. Yesterday he said they should have known better, because what can be known of God is plain through the creation. But instead of looking through the created order toward the God who created it, they looked to creation itself and worshipped idols, part of the created order. The next part (verse 26 on) is Paul's indictment of the Gentile idol worshipers.

Here are the omitted verses that have had so much play recently:
(26) "For this reason God gave them up to degrading passions. Their women exchanged natural intercourse for unnatural, (27) and in the same way also the men, giving up natural intercourse with women, were consumed with passion for one another. Men committed shameless acts with men and received in their own persons the due penalty for their error."

This is the most significant passage in all of scripture cited to condemn homosexual behavior. I've heard at least four interpretations.

1. It's plain and straightforward. God, through Paul, condemns all acts of same-sex intercourse.

2. The passage is about the rites and rituals practiced in temples of idol worship, which included acts of intercourse with temple prostitutes. Has nothing to do with the love of committed gay couples.

3. Paul is using Jewish polemic and caricature about Gentiles to goad and shame his Jewish readers into abandoning circumcision and the law. This is prejudiced, exaggerated language about Gentiles and their debauchery as motivation for his Jewish readers. (The nasty litany continues through the end of the chapter.)

4. Appropriate instructions for heterosexuals. It is unnatural to have same-sex relationships. But for someone whose sexual orientation is naturally toward the same-sex, a similar admonition would apply in the other direction.

I know good, faithful Episcopalians who find themselves convinced by each of these interpretations. (and there are probably other ways of interpreting that I don't know)

A gay friend of mine engaging this section of Romans told me that when he reads this, he doesn't see himself being described. "I've been gay all my life. It's as natural for me as I suppose your love for your wife is for you. And I'm a sinner, all right. But when I read what Paul has to say about these people -- 'debased mind... filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, covetousness, malice. Full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, craftiness, ...gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, rebellious toward parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless...' Well, I've gossiped before and you could say I'm haughty every once in a while, but that's not me. That list doesn't describe me or my partner or our relationship together or our lives apart."

A straight friend of mine reading this passage and reflecting on her own experience says of homosexuality, "I think it's wrong. I just do. I think its wrong and the Bible condemns it. It's not natural. And if someone feels an inclination toward someone of the same sex they shouldn't act on that any more than I should pick up something that doesn't belong to me just because I'm attracted to it."

Most of the letter to the Romans deals with the question: "How should Gentiles and Jews relate to each other 'in Christ'?" They come from different worlds, and yet they are bound together in Christ. During the upcoming weeks reading Romans, we might let our sub-text be "How should Episcopalians with different world views relate to each other 'in Christ'?" Let's see what we can learn.

Thursday, June 21, 2012 -- Week of Proper 6, Year Two

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 971)
Psalms [83], or 34 (morning) 85, 86 (evening)
Numbers 12:1-16
Romans 2:12-24
Matthew 18:10-20

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

The story in Numbers 12 is a fascinating tale of racism. Moses' sister and brother, Miriam and Aaron "spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married." Usually the region of Cush refers to Ethiopia (occasionally to Midian). Moses' wife Zipporah was from Midian. Ethiopian Africans are black. The effect of the charge against Moses is not unlike someone calling another's wife a "Nigger" regardless of where she is from, simply because she is dark skinned or foreign.

God's reaction is swift and unambiguous. God reaffirms an intimate relationship with Moses, then God makes Miriam unclean with leprosy. In a gracious act of inclusion and forgiveness, Moses intercedes on Miriam's behalf, and the community pauses on their journey long enough for her to be restored to them.

How much of our human story is marred by racism and prejudice.

Paul also addresses some racial and cultural boundaries in the portion of his letter to the Romans that we read today. Paul insists that everyone stands naked before God. None of us is privileged by reason of our race, religion, or standing. Everybody has sinned. And many people behave rightly even though they are outside our religious boundaries. God honors their goodness regardless of their religious standing. There is no special privilege accorded to one religion over another. Especially if the behavior of the religious ones is hypocritical to the values they espouse. Paul says, "God shows no partiality."

And Matthew's Gospel tells the story of the lost sheep and announces that "it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost." The little, the lost and the leprous are the ones that God seeks especially. God will not let anyone out of God's net.

But for those of us who are insiders, when we sin against another, the Gospel gives us a process for truth and reconciliation. If that process fails, "let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector." But of course, it is the Gentiles and tax collectors that Jesus says go first into the kingdom of heaven anyway.

So much of the Biblical witness turns our privilege and presumption on its ear. God's mercy is abundant and extraordinary. God special outreach is always directed compassionately toward the lost sheep. The only ones who tend to catch God's particular ire are the proud and those who are pretty certain of their own standing and rightness. They get jacked around for awhile. But, Moses and Jesus intercede, and the community will wait on them. As long as they are able to stand up and join the parade with the outcast and sinners; the lost and little and leprous; the black and the gay and the Moslem -- the parade will welcome them no matter how far back in line they may finally decide to join in the fun. Come along Miriam and Aaron. We'll wait on you.

Friday, June 22, 2012 -- Week of Proper 6, Year Two
Alban, First Martyr of Britain, c. 304

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 971)
Psalms 88 (morning) 91, 92 (evening)
Numbers 13:1-3, 21-30
Romans 2:25 - 3:8
Matthew 18:21-35

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

It's a matter of the heart. All three readings today are "heart readings." In Numbers we have the story of the spies who go into Canaan and return with fearful hearts, except for one, Caleb. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus urges us to forgive from the heart, and he has some fairly extreme things to say about that. But I want to look at Paul's conversation about real circumcision -- a matter of the heart.

In the back of my mind I'm thinking about a conversation I recently had with another minister. We were disagreeing. He was certain that the "only way" to God was through Jesus. I agreed, but I saw Jesus as the Second Person of the Holy Spirit manifested whenever God is manifest throughout history, in every age and culture and religion. Wherever there is good, truth, or beauty, ...faith, hope, or love, there is the incarnation of God whom we recognize as Jesus. Not so, he said. There is only one way, and it is Jesus only as revealed in the Scriptures. Unless one confesses his name, in a very precise way, the consequences are eternal separation from God.

Paul is having a similar disagreement. The issue is whether the "only way" to God is through circumcision. Circumcision is the Biblical sign of one's covenant to follow the Jewish law. But, Paul says, look what a mess we who are Jews have made of following the law. We dishonor God with our unfaithfulness. And what about those Gentiles who are faithful, whose ethics exceed our own? It is a matter of the heart. God desires the inner, spiritual transformation of our hearts, not something external and physical.

So, the others say to Paul, it doesn't matter that we are Jews, that God called us as a chosen people. YES it matters, says Paul. We were entrusted with a precious gift. And God will be faithful to the promises to the Jewish people. In fact, look what God is doing with Jewish unfaithfulness! God is using our people's unfaithfulness to open God's grace to non-Jews. If God does something great like that with unfaithfulness, there is no limit to what God can do, especially with any form of faithfulness.

So back away from the distinctions. We are all the same before God. All have failed. God loves all. And even in the face of universal failure, God's grace abounds. All that is needed is a little trust, a little heart-faithfulness. And you can find big hearts among those who are "in" (the circumcised) and those who are "out" (the uncircumcised). Promote faithfulness-of-heart among all -- big courageous hearts; forgiving hearts. It's okay to back away from some of those outward boundaries. What God wants is our inner, spiritual transformation. The inner faithfulness will then produce outer faithfulness.

A friend of mine says that makes a good church too. Soft at the edges and strong at the core. Or as I saw it recently in a logo: "Deep roots. Low walls."

Monday, June 25, 2012 -- Week of Proper 7, Year Two
either The Nativity of Saint John the Baptist (tr. fm. June 24)
or James Weldon Johnson, Poet, 1938

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 973)
Psalms 89:1-18 (morning) 89:19-52 (evening)
Numbers 16:1-19
Romans 3:21-31
Matthew 19:13-22

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Romans 3:28 is a fine summary of Paul's teaching: "For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law." Paul knew something about "works prescribed by the law." In his former life, he was successful. He zealously obeyed the law, and it brought him only anxiety. Am I doing right? What if I mess up? He became self-absorbed and filled with a kind of performance anxiety. It drove him crazy.

I had a friend who was smart enough to go through college and make all A's. It was her motivation. She worked hard. She studied conscientiously. Toward her senior year, she became a bit compulsive about it. She didn't join her friends if there was a big test coming up. She was taking an advanced course that semester that was very hard. She was so worried that she wouldn't ace it that she became almost obsessed with learning everything so she would run any risk. She was competing with another student who also had all A's. They were in this same class.

Eventually it got ugly when he got a B on something and she got an A. She was sure she was going to win a prestigious award that went to the person with the highest grades in their particular major. But her competition, the other (male) student's father was a very powerful state legislator. Somehow, he ended up with an A and won the award at graduation. She's sure she got bumped. I remember a conversation with her later. "I wish I had more fun at college. I studied too hard."

It's a good thing to study and to make A's. ("Do we then overthrow the law by this faith? By no means! On the contrary, we uphold the law.") But our "being," our "justification" is not based on our grades. Our relationship as God's beloved is a gift. We are accepted because God loves us. That's that. God's loving acceptance is God's free unqualified gift to us. Grace is the word Paul uses. Accept that gift (faith) and you are in (justified). Jew or Gentile, doesn't matter. Passing or failing doesn't affect the offer.

So now you can relax. You don't have to make all "A's.". Instead, you can relax and learn. Learn and grow for the sake of the learning and growing rather than for the grade.

Jesus makes the same point today. Riches can do the same thing to you that achieving does. Riches distract us. Possessions posses us. They also promote pride and self-glorification. Just like an "A-student" may easily think herself better than a "C-student" so a wealthy person so easily may think himself better than a poor person. It is impossible to enter into the kingdom of heaven so burdened with self-interest, self-importance. As impossible as for a camel to go through the eye of a needle.

You can't earn or buy your way into God's graces. You can only accept it humbly, like everybody else. "For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law." It's the heart of Paul's gospel.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012 -- Week of Proper 7, Year Two
Isabel Florence Hapgood, Ecumenist and Journalist, 1929

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 973)
Psalms 97, 99, [100] (morning) 94, [95] (evening)
Numbers 16:20-35
Romans 4:1-12
Matthew 19:23-30

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

I remember how bothered I was as a child when I first read the story of about the rebellion of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram that we have for today's first reading. I was at my grandmother's house, reading from a children's Bible. The book had been my father's when he was a child. It told the biblical stories in a straightforward way, using vocabulary that was accessible for a younger reader. There were illustrations, mostly black and white, that were pretty literal and meant to be as historically accurate as possible. Some of the pictures were pretty scary.

The story of this rebellion in the wilderness was pretty clear. These three were challenging Moses, but more than that, by challenging Moses, they were disobeying God's intention, since Moses was God's chosen. The haunting part about it for me was the image of Korah, Dathan and Abiram standing at the entrance of their tents along with "their wives, their children, and their little ones." Moses prays for God to judge between them, and the earth opens up and swallows them all alive. Children and all.

I don't remember if there was an accompanying illustration, but I have in my mind a terrible image of their shocked and fearful faces (in black and white) as the earth disappears under their feet and they begin to fall to their living deaths. I wondered why God, who could do all things, couldn't have thought of another way -- maybe lightning -- to punish just the ones who had done the wrong, not the wives and children.

Yet children are always dragged along into the damnable consequences of their parent's activities and choices. When "insurgents" meet in a home in Afghanistan and our intelligence learns of the meeting, the drone bomber destroys everyone in the house, wives and children included. When the Sudanese military bombs a defenseless village and the Janjaweed militia follow through with raids on horse or camelback, women are raped and children are killed or enslaved. When a Mexican family seeking something better finds a way into this country, their children may grow up from early childhood as Americans, yet find themselves "illegal" when they turn 18 and can't accept the college scholarship they have qualified for. When a parent drinks into addiction and creates a household of chaos and fear, the children are damaged in a profound way that usually persists into adulthood. Books and recovery groups for "Adult Children of Alcoholics" seek to help them heal the persistent injuries of their vulnerable childhood.

It is in the nature of things that the consequences of adult rebellion and pride often fall most fiercely upon their children. It is also the nature of things that children face many of the punishing consequences of our systemic injustices. A profound proportion of those who live in poverty are children.

It is the responsibility of the adults to protect the children. We must think of the consequences to them when we make choices, especially choices motivated by false pride. What we might be willing to risk for ourselves, are we willing to inflict on our children?

It is also important for us to give voice to the interests of children in our political debate. They cannot vote. They have no power. If the needs and interests of children are to be represented, it must be the adults that do so. Thank God for groups like the Children's Defense Fund and my state's Arkansas Advocates for Children and Families.

I wonder again about that story of Korah, Dathan and Abiram. What if, just before the earth opened, as they stood before their tents, a group of Hebrew women ran to them, gathered the wives and children and scurried them away from the danger? Would God have been angry? Would Moses have stopped them? I don't know. But it seems to me it would have been worth the try. Every time Abraham or Moses challenged God by interceding about a justice issue, God modified the anticipated damage. (i.e. Abraham in Sodom and Moses in the next section of this reading)

It is our responsibility to try -- to intercede for justice on behalf of the innocent and vulnerable who are in harm's way because of the choices of the powerful. Every day there are children who are being swallowed alive.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012 -- Week of Proper 7, Year Two
Cornelius Hill, Priest and Chief among the Oneida, 1907

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 973)
Psalms 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30 (morning) 119:121-144
Numbers 16:36-50
Romans 4:13-25
Matthew 20:1-16

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

It is a regular theme of Jesus' parables that in God's kingdom: Grace abounds. In many of those parables grace has an economic aspect.

It is a regular theme of the Hebrew scriptures that God loves the poor and expects God's people to care for them.

In Jesus' parables about the workers, though the workers come at all times of the day, even at the last hour, they all receive the daily wage that they need to provide for themselves and their family. It is an enacted version of the prayer "Give us this day our daily bread."

The parable works on both a plain and a metaphorical level.

Economic care and justice extends to the poor to insure that every person is paid what we might call today a "living wage." God's economy is generous toward the needy. All receive their daily bread; debts are forgiven.

The parable also communicates the metaphorical message that God loves all people and gives abundantly to the latecomer as well as the long-faithful, the prodigal and the elder son. The full acceptance, forgiveness and grace of God is always available and complete.

Like so many psalms, Psalm 109 sets up a plea for the poor and needy and an accusation toward those who fail to care for them, or worse, who oppress the poor. The series of bitter curses (optional verses) are directed toward an unknown oppressor, "Because he did not remember to show mercy, but persecuted the poor and needy..." The psalmist asks for and claims mercy from God, "For I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me." This consistent message of the Hebrew scriptures is sometimes described as "God's preferential option for the poor."

What would our politics and economics look like if our values reflected the values of Jesus' parables and of the Hebrew scriptures?

Friday, June 29, 2012 -- Week of Proper 7, Year Two
Saint Peter and Saint Paul, Apostles

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)
EITHER the readings for Sts. Peter and Paul (p. 998)
Morning Prayer: Psalm 66; Ezekiel 2:1-7; Acts 11:1-18
Evening Prayer: Psalms 97, 138; Isaiah 49:1-6; Galatians 2:1-9

OR the readings for Friday of Proper 7, (p. 973)
Psalms 102 (morning) 107:1-32
Numbers 20:1-13
Romans 5:12-21
Matthew 20:29-34

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

I used the readings for Friday of Proper 7

Many years ago I became convinced of something that I couldn't really defend theologically. I'm not sure that I can defend it systematically to this day. So I hold to it as a personal conviction and hope rather than as a point of doctrine.

My experience of the grace and love of God has been so wonderful, that it is virtually unimaginable to me that anyone can escape that immeasurable love forever. I've become convinced that God's victory will be total.

It seems to me that Paul gets to a similar place in his writing today. He repeats the crescendo of wonder -- "If this ..., then how much more ...Christ." If sin came into the world through the one man Adam's sin, how much more is sin defeated through the one man Jesus. If death exercised dominion from Adam, how much more will life triumph through Jesus. If judgment brought condemnation, how much more will the free gift bring righteousness and grace. If Adam brought defeat, how much more has Jesus brought victory.

"Therefore just as one man's trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man's act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all. For just as by the one man's disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man's obedience the many will be made righteous." (Romans 5:18-19)

It is hard to imagine anyone being excluded from Jesus' triumph. Life for all. That's what Paul says. (Or as some of my more literal friends like to say, "The Bible says, 'Life for all!' and that's what it means.")

If little old Adam's measly sin brought condemnation and death to all, how much more completely effective is the goodness and resurrection of Jesus the Son of God for all. This is Paul at his most expansive. His vision of Christ is universal. The triumph is complete. That seems to be the way it is when the direction of our vision is cast toward Christ. His love is so expansive that it fills all.

There are other places where Paul does not seem so expansive. When he concentrates on human failure and obstinacy, he can get almost morose. (We're about to enter one of those times in the upcoming passages in Romans.) But over and over he returns to the wonder of the forgiveness, grace and victory of Christ which has overcome all -- and it is a free gift, not something to be earned.

For Paul (for me) that is motivation for living. All is given; so how can we keep on living so selfishly, so anxiously? All is won; so how can we keep living so fearfully, so violently? All is forgiven; so how can we keep living so arrogantly, so condemning? Live into the gift, the triumph, the love. That's the gospel good news.

[I'm taking about a month off from "Speaking to the Soul." For the next two weeks I'll be writing a blog from the General Convention of the Episcopal Church. That will be available from http://generalconvention.blogspot.com. Then I'll be taking a couple of weeks of vacation. I'll be back writing for "Speaking to the Soul" in August]

Lowell

Wednesday, August 1, 2012 -- Week of Proper 12, Year Two
Joseph of Arimathea

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 977)
Psalms 72 (morning) 119:73-96
Judges 3:12-30
Acts 1:1-14
Matthew 27:45-54

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

As I thought about these four readings today and about Joseph of Arimathea whom we commemorate, it seems we have a series of snapshots with both spiritual and political significance.

Jesus speaks his last words of abandonment from the cross and then breathes his last. The centurion, the soldier who has maintained the order of the state during this political execution declares, "Truly this man was God's Son!" The Empire's puppet governor has rid Rome of an enemy, and Matthew says the earth shakes in response. Another execution. A day's headline. What can the meek do in the face of raw power?

One gentleman will simply do the right thing. Joseph of Arimathea will use some of his power to provide for a proper burial for the condemned criminal. He will use some of his wealth to provide for a tomb. It is the humane and decent thing to do, though one wonders at what cost to Joseph's dignity and his standing in the community. It takes courage and character for a highly placed man like Joseph to exercise his power on behalf of one such as Jesus, a religious blasphemer and political pariah. Joseph's is a noble act.

Our reading from Judges glorifies an assassin. To the Moabites, Ehud is a terrorist and murderer. To Israel he is a hero and liberator. It is dirty business sneaking a short sword completely into the obese belly of King Eglon and locking him in the toilet as "the dirt came out." Then the region is ethnically cleansed, as all of the Moabites are killed, and the land has rest for eighty years. A great nationalist story for Israel. The story doesn't read quite the same way in the history books of Moab.

The Acts of the Apostles opens with the disciples' experience of Jesus' resurrection. Their first question is a political one: "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" They might have been hoping for another great triumph like they remembered from the days of Ehud and King Eglon. Yet, it is not for them to know. They will be given power. Power from on high. Spiritual power. Different from the power of a sword or a cross.

Executions, assassinations, dreams of power, a noble act. These are all things we hear about today. We hope for resurrection; for noble acts in awful situations. Will an assassination bring rest or revenge? Will we exercise spiritual power as we yearn for restoration?

But let's look at today's psalm. Psalm 72 expects justice and righteousness from a ruler. "He shall defend the needy among the people; he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor."

The biblical dream for the ideal leader repeatedly calls for a government that will care for and protect the poor and needy. Historically it seems that the interests of the wealthy and powerful usually get taken care of first by the authorities, and the needs of the poor are often a reluctant secondary priority.

As I was reading the psalm, my imagination wondered what our nation might be like if our government fulfilled the dream of the psalmist. At first the psalm reads like this ideal ruler would be another "kick butt and take names" leader, dealing with foreign enemies -- "His foes shall bow down before him, and his enemies lick the dust." The psalm expects tribute and gifts from foreign rulers. "All kings shall bow down before him, and all the nations do him service." But here is where the psalm surprises. All of these foreigners shall offer their respects to this ideal king, "For he shall deliver the poor who cries out in distress, and the oppressed who has no helper. He shall have pity on the lowly and poor; he shall preserve the lives of the needy. He shall redeem their lives from oppression and violence, and dear shall their blood be in his sight. Long may he live! and may there be given to him gold from Arabia; may prayer be made for him always; and may they bless him all the day long."

That's a different kind of ruler. The nations honor this ruler because of his generosity and justice, not just his military prowess. These foreign lands are praying for him and blessing him, and even Arabia is generously cooperating with his agenda. Why? Because of his goodness and commitment to the poor.

I wonder. What if our leaders were like this? What if the needs of the poor and needy were at the top of our national interest? What if our leaders had pity on the lowly and poor and redeemed those living under oppression and violence? That's a different kind of political agenda. That's a different kind of ruler. That's the kind of ruler who would be remembered with honor by all nations. Somebody a little like Joseph of Arimathaea. Somebody a little like Jesus. "May his Name remain for ever and be established as long as the sun endures; may all the nations bless themselves in him and call him blessed."

The psalmist prays longingly for such a leader. Me too.

Friday, August 3, 2012 -- Week of Proper 12, Year Two
George Freeman Bragg, Jr., Priest, 1940
William Edward Burghardt DuBois, Sociologist, 1963

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 977)
Psalms 69:1-23(24-3-)31-38 (morning) 73 (evening)
Judges 5:1-18
Acts 2:1-21
Matthew 28:1-10

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Reading today's account of the fire of Pentecost and recalling some of the General Convention conversation about the structure of the church, I'm reminded of the late John V. Taylor's fine book "The Go-Between God: The Holy Spirit & the Christian Mission." Here's how he opens his chapter titled "Growing: The Evangelical Spirit and the Structures of Mission":

'The church exists by mission as fire exists by burning.' It is not by chance that Emil Brunner chose that great biblical metaphor of the Spirit and his mission. Jewish teachers had taken the burning bush to be a symbol of the ideal Israel on fire with God's purpose and action in the world, yet unconsumed. The true church also exists by being the inexaustible fuel of the Holy Spirit's mission in the world... While they burn together the branches and twigs are fire, yet they do not in themselves constitute the fire. The fire, rather, contains them, living around them in the interstices, and if a twig drops to the ground the fire that seemed to be in it soon vanishes. Only in their togetherness can Christians remain alight with the fire of the Spirit. That is the sole purpose of our visible fellowship -- to be the fuel upon which the fire is kindled in the earth. The church must be shaped to carry out that purpose or it will be as frustrating as a badly laid fire. The question we have continually to put to the organization and structure of the church is this: does it bring Christian face to face with Christian in that communion which is the sphere of the Holy Spirit's presence?

Our theology would improve if we thought more of the church being given to the Spirit than of the Spirit being given to the church. For if we phrase it in the second way, although it is the New Testament's way, we are in danger of perpetuating the irreverence of picturing God's Spirit as a giant superhuman power or guidance, like a fairy sword or magic mirror to equip us for our adventures. Unless all I have said so far is utterly mistaken, the promised power from on high is not that kind at all. ...The primary effect of the pentecostal experience was to fuse the individuals of that company into a fellowship which in the same moment was caught up into the life of the risen Lord. In a new awareness of him and of one another they burst into praise, and the world came running for an explanation. In other words, the gift of the Holy Spirit in the fellowship of the church first enables Christians to be, and only as a consequence of that sends them to do and to speak. It is enormously important to get this straight. Being, doing and speaking cannot in practice be disentangled, but if we put our primary emphasis on preaching or on serving we erect a functional barrier between ourselves and our fellow humans, casting ourselves in a different role from the rest... Hence the professional jealousy of Christians, so often disconcerted when other humanitarians undertake the same service and other faiths propound the same truths.

The Holy Spirit is given to enable 'the two or three gathered together' to embody Jesus Christ in the world...

The mission of the church, therefore, is to live the ordinary life ...in that extraordinary awareness of the other and self-sacrifice for the other which the Spirit gives. Christian activity will be very largely the same as the world's activity -- earning a living, bringing up a family, making friends, having fun, celebrating occasions, farming, manufacturing, trading, building cities, healing sickness, alleviating distress, mourning, studying, exploring, making music and so on. Christians will try to do these things to the glory of God, which is to say that they will try to perceive what God is up to in each of these manifold activities and will seek to do it with [God] by bearing responsibility for the selves of others... Christ-like evangelism consists in the passionate serving of the personhood of [humanity] in protest against all the depersonalizing pressures of the world... To point to the cross is to point to one for whom people mattered supremely and whose very presence in silent suffering brought a hard-bitten non-commissioned officer to look twice at what seemed commonplace and to rise to a more truly human personal response.

John V. Taylor, "The Go-Between God," Oxford, 1972, p. 133f

Monday, August 6, 2012 -- Week of Proper 13, Year Two
The Transfiguration of Our Lord

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)
EITHER the readings for Monday of Proper 13, p. 979
Psalms 80 (morning) 77, [79] (evening)
Judges 6:25-40
Acts 2:37-47
John 1:1-18

OR the readings for The Transfiguration, p. 998
Morning Prayer: Psalms 2, 24; Exodus 24:12-18; 2 Corinthians 4:1-6
Evening Prayer: Psalm 72; Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14; John 12:27-36a

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

I chose the readings for Transfiguration

It might be helpful to read this morning's second lesson for the Transfiguration -- 2 Corinthians 4:1-6 -- backwards.

Start with the image of the "face of Jesus Christ." Jesus' face is the face of profound love, the image of God. Jesus looks and brings understanding, forgiveness, healing, and hope. He looks upon the tax collector and sees a friend; he looks upon the emotionally ill demoniac and bring coherence; he looks upon the fishermen and gives vocation; he looks upon the one caught in adultery and brings acceptance; he looks upon the leper and bring cleansing; he looks upon the deaf gives hearing; he looks upon the mute and creates vision; he looks upon the enemy and turns the other cheek; he looks upon the hungry and gives food; he looks upon the proud and exposes them; he looks upon Peter's denial and accepts the deadly consequences; he rises from death to look again upon Peter and commission him.

We look upon "the face of Jesus" and we see "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God." We see and understand how God is gloriously manifest in this loving, forgiving, healing, suffering, rising life. This is the light that shines out of the darkness. This is the light that shines in our hearts.

Our hearts bear the light of Christ. His face turns toward us, gazing upon us with his profound countenance of love, and our hearts are kindled with light. We know ourselves to be loved, and our hearts are warmed. His light becomes our light, the light at the center of our being. From that stillpoint, we are whole, we are empowered, we are loved.

And so we are given the strength and identity to follow the way that he has led, the way of humble, hopeful service. Our identity shifts from defensive self-centeredness to willing openness. It is no longer about us, for we rest in the loving gaze of Jesus. We are empowered to become "slaves for Jesus' sake."

It is a counter-cultural calling in a competitive and proud world. We all grow up blinded by the cultural conditioning of fear and selfishness. We can understand that others won't readily accept this alternative lifestyle. The values of the Beatitudes are a very different set of values from what most people inherit.

But we don't lose heart. We can simply be -- open, honest, hopeful. We know that all that matters has been given to us as a gift from God. There is nothing we need to do except to accept our acceptance and live by the light of that love.

So we read St. Paul's words again in their original order:

Therefore, since it is by God's mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart. We have renounced the shameful things that one hides; we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God's word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God. And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus' sake. For it is the God who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. 2 Corinthians 4:1-6

Tuesday, August 7, 2012 -- Week of Proper 13, Year Two
John Mason Neale, priest, 1866

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 979)
Psalms 78:1-39 (morning) 78:40-72 (evening)
Judges 7:1-18
Acts 3:1-11
John 1:19-28

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

One of the constant themes of scripture is that God acts through us, and when our actions are consistent with what God is doing, God does marvelous things through us.

I have a friend who likes to summarize Christian life and mission this way: "Go out into the world awake and alert to see what it is that God is up to, and then ask, how can I participate? How can I help in whatever it is that God is already doing?"

The story of Gideon is a delightful folk tale of a great victory of a small group who overcome great odds. With courage and trustful obedience to God, they do something that defies their littleness. That is a constant theme of scripture. God raises up the little, the lost and the least and makes them the instrument for God's amazing work.

In Acts, Peter and Paul enter the Temple at the 3:00 hour of prayer and encounter the lame man who begs for alms. They have no money for him, but they fix their attention upon him in the name and spirit of Jesus, and the man is healed. One who is dependent and paralyzed is given strength to walk.

And John who is baptizing in the wilderness, gives interpretation to his activity, defining himself modestly as one who is making straight the way of the greater one who is coming. John embraces his work within the greater scope of God's intention.

Today is a new day. What is God up to and how can I participate? Though I am small and little, if I am united with God's work, great things may happen. All it takes is a little courage and trustful obedience, and maybe a few friends with similar intent.

What needs will cross my path begging for my attention and for enough creativity that I might give more than just something superficial like money, but something more real, like a portion of the empowering spirit of Jesus?

How can I embrace my part in what God is doing? How can I prepare the way of the Lord? Each of us is called to prophecy and service, and that is a high calling. And, we are called to see that work modestly within the greater work of God.

The presumption is that God is doing great things and will use the little, the lost and the least to accomplish it.

How can we help?

Wednesday, August 8, 2012 -- -- Week of Proper 13, Year Two
Dominic, Priest and Friar, 1221

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 979)
Psalms 119:97-120 (morning) 81, 82 (evening)
Judges 7:19 - 8:12
Acts 3:12-26
John 1:29-42

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

"And now, friends, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers." Acts 3:17

Peter has just responded to a crowd's questioning. How did you heal the lame beggar by the Beautiful Gate? By faith in the name of Jesus, he tells them. The same Jesus "whom you handed over and rejected in the presence of Pilate... You killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead." Peter's words are a strong accusation.

But, Peter makes accommodation for them. They didn't know any better. "And now, friends, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers."

Recently Desmond Tutu was giving and interview in Hawaii. He was asked this question: "Looking back on Nelson Mandela's incredible life and your common struggle against apartheid, what would you say is the greatest lesson you learned about that painful time?"

Bishop Tutu began his answer with this: "First, I do not know what kind of person I might have turned out to be had I been subjected to the same conditions as the racists. So I have learned to say thankfully, 'There but for the grace of God go I.'"

We are all products of our environments. As I watch the Olympics I cheer for the USA simply because that is my home. I find myself passionately for or against these wonderful athletes only based on my own geography that has formed my loyalties. If I were from China, I would support the Chinese competitors.

I grew up a white person in the segregated South. We inherited traditions and customs that were our norms. When others, many of them outsiders, challenged our norms, most of my neighbors defended our traditions. We had been raised racists, but for the most part, we didn't understand that. The kind of change that we were being challenged with seemed radical and threatening to most. It made many white Southerners afraid. I knew those people. They were good people. They went to church and prayed to God. They raised families and were faithful to their jobs and to their community. Some had been raised by beloved black servants in their homes. They knew and loved individual black people. But they had been so convinced of the inferiority of black people as a whole, that they couldn't imagine a society where black people had equal power. Some believed that the racial order was part of the natural and divine structure of reality. Imagining a different order felt profoundly threatening.

Different people are pre-disposed toward change. Some change easily. Some do not. There were some Southern whites who were early adopters of the notion of equal rights. They found it resonated with their religious and their political values even if it was foreign to their experience. But equality was too big a change for most. The vast majority of Southern whites were deeply formed by their own culture and too threatened by such a fundamental change. A shift of privilege and power was asked, and it is hard to give up privilege and power.

How long do you make accommodation for a big cultural change? Peter tells his listeners, "And now, friends, I know that you acted in ignorance," but now it is time to repent and turn to God "so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord." I think Peter expected that once they knew better, people should change.

Some individuals can turn on a dime. Cultures change over time. There are now more black elected officials in Mississippi per capita than in any state in the union. Public facilities are entirely integrated. But there is also a network of white private academies. Churches are mostly either black or white. And racism is still prevalent. The animosity toward President Obama is palpable; it's not just politics.

At the General Convention one deputy whom I dearly love spoke of the proposal to endorse a rite of blessing for same-sex couples as "turning on a dime." Slow down, she begged. This is all so sudden. She told a story of a large barge that tried to turn too quickly and hit a local bridge. You are trying to turn a big barge too quickly, she said. Present in the audience were a few who had worked for decades before the church passed the first legislation acknowledging that "homosexual persons are children of God who have a full and equal claim with all other persons upon the love, acceptance and pastoral concern and care of the Church." That passed in 1976, over thirty years ago. It feels like a lifetime to many.

We live with these tensions of environments and paradigms. Peter offers us the example of being courageous witnesses to the new possibility while understanding the powerful influence of culture. But, whenever we are given an invitation to change in order to move toward greater healing, wholeness, compassion, and love, it is time to repent and turn to God "so that your sins may be wiped out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord."

Even at that, it was hard for Peter. He and Paul fought bitterly when Peter backed away from table fellowship with Gentile Christians. It's not easy. Instincts and early formation are powerful. As Bishop Tutu says, "I do not know what kind of person I might have turned out to be had I been subjected to the same conditions as the racists. So I have learned to say thankfully, 'There but for the grace of God go I.'"

Friday, August 10, 2012 -- Week of Proper 13, Year Two
Laurence, Deacon, and Martyr at Rome, 258

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 979)
Psalms 88 (morning) 91, 92 (evening)
Judges 9:1-16, 19-21
Acts 4:13-31
John 2:1-12

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

One of the most ubiquitous forms of prayer in the Jewish tradition is the berakhah. (I've seen it spelled various ways.) It is a prayer of blessing. It is a prayer in a spirit of thanksgiving that expresses wonder at how blessed God is. Many of our Christian prayers, including our eucharisitic prayer, are based on the form of Jewish berakhah. Those prayers typically begin by blessing God and then praising God through thanksgiving. "Blessed are you, O Lord, sovereign of the universe, for you give us wine to gladden our hearts." That is a common berakhah blessing prayer over the wine.

In Jewish tradition, to bless something is to give thanks for it. To thank God for something is to acknowledge God as its source. The blessing is also a form of consecration. For anything that is blessed is consecrated. In the Eucharist, we bless bread and wine with the prayer we call the "Great Thanksgiving," and the bread and wine is consecrated. Something which is consecrated is made holy and set aside to be used for God's purposes. So to pray a blessing is to receive something with thanks to God -- which makes it holy. It is an abundant process.

In John's Gospel, Jesus' first miracle is to turn water into wine at a wedding feast where the wine has given out. It is a sign of his work. Through Jesus, the ordinary water becomes deep and sparkling wine that gladdens the heart. The party can continue. The celebration is blessed. The bridegroom who would have been publicly humiliated is rescued and the whole community is able to rejoice is social happiness. "Blessed are you, O Lord, sovereign of the universe, for you give us wine to gladden our hearts."

How can I take this day and bless it?

First, I can give thanks to God and acknowledge God as the source of the miracle of this day. The thin dark has become deep and sparkling light that gladdens the heart. By blessing God, thanking God for this moment and this day, the day is consecrated, made holy, set aside for God's purposes.

And what are God's purposes? It usually has something to do with abundant life. The party continues. The celebration is blessed. The broken is being healed and the whole community is enabled to rejoice together.

To bless anything is to make it holy. The characteristic stance of creature to the creator is to stand in thanskgiving. To bless life with thankfulness is to make it abundant -- to turn water into wine.

Monday, August 13, 2012 -- Week of Proper 14, Year Two
Jeremy Taylor, Bishop of Down, Connor, and Dromore, 1667

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 979)
Psalms 89:1-18 (morning) 89:19-52 (evening)
Judges 12:1-7
Acts 5:12-26
John 3:1-21

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Nicodemus is unusual. He is one of the leaders who comes to Jesus with interest and sympathy. Most people of position and respect have found fault with the ititerant Galilean. But Nicodemus approaches Jesus with the respectful title, "Teacher." "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God."

Jesus then takes Nicodemus to his edge. As a Pharisee, Nicodemus is an observant Jew, following the laws of Torah in a life of obedience and devotion. Since he is an acknowledged leader, he is probably a person of some accomplishment. In other words, he is managing his life with some degree of competence and dignity. But something must be lacking. He approaches Jesus with curiosity.

Jesus goes immediately to what must be Nicodemus' edge: You must be "born from above/born anew." Jesus will contrast the life of the flesh and the life of the spirit/wind. A new life from a new source. This is the next step for this good man. Nicodemus leaves this story appearing perplexed, but later we will see him standing up in the Sanhedrin, arguing for for due process for Jesus at his trial, and Nicodemus will help Joseph of Arimathea bury Jesus' body.

Nicodemus is a good patron for all of us who are basically good, conscientious, and competent people. Those of us who follow the rules and seem to do okay. We are respectful and respected people who have accomplished a degree of success. But when you have done what you are supposed to do and established a sound reputation and degree of prosperity, sometimes there is a nagging sense of incompletion, "Is that all there is?"

Jesus invites this good man into a new self-understanding -- a living relationship with a lively God. It is such a different way of being that it is like being born anew, born from above. It is unpredictable and light-hearted. It is more like sailing than motor boating.

In this new life, Jesus invites Nicodemus to attune himself to the subtle movement of the Spirit, as ephemeral as the wind. He is to let his intuition and wonder guide him into a mystery of divine adventure. When the wind of intuition moves a bit -- he is to stop like Moses before the bush and allow himself to move with the Spirit.

All of his life Nicodemus has followed the conventional way -- doing the correct and expected thing, setting goals and reaching them. Now he is to be open to new possibilities -- available to turn in a moment should his heart be touched, willing to move into the unknowing direction should his intuitive curiosity be aroused.

For those of us with controlled and predictable lives, this can be an unnerving and thrilling invitation. Can we give up control? Can we let go of our comfortable, conventional way of living by the rules? Can we be free and responsive to the movement of the Spirit?

It is an exciting but risky invitation. It may call for great change and struggle and sacrifice. But it is walking in the light and living in love. It is the invitation into the kingdom of God.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012 -- Week of Proper 14, Year Two
Jonathan Myrick Daniels, Seminarian and Martyr, 1965

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 979)
Psalms 97, 99, [100] (morning) 94, [95] (evening)
Judges 13:1-15
Acts 5:27-52
John 3:22-36

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

But Peter and the apostles answered (the high priest and council), "We must obey God rather than any human authority." (Acts 5:29)

Peter and the apostles are engaging in civil disobedience. They have already been jailed and "ordered not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus." (4:18) Some of them have already been placed in prison twice. It is obvious that from the law's perspective, what they are doing is illegal. Peter appeals to a higher judge and court, to more universal principles.

Today is the feast of Jonathan Myrick Daniels who followed the call to join a movement of civil disobedience on behalf of civil rights for black Americans in 1965. He was jailed in Selma, Alabama. A few moments after being released, he saw a man with a shotgun approach cursing sixteen-year old Ruby Sales, a black girl. Jonathan moved to shield her from the gunman and was killed by the gun's discharge.

Jonathan Myrick Daniels is one of forty-one persons remembered at the Civil Rights Memorial as being among those who lost their lives in the struggle for black civil rights. In our Episcopal Church calendar he is remembered on this day, the anniversary of his martyrdom.

We cannot count how many have been killed as witnesses to Christ since the days of Peter and Stephen. We remember many of them in our calendar and stories, but countless others live in the memory and presence of God.

The church has always honored and extolled those who were willing to risk prison, exile, impoverishment, violence and death for the sake of obeying God rather than human authority. We give thanks to those who are willing to stand up for justice.

A few months ago a group of young immigrants who are without legal papers in this country stood before a forum of over 700 people in our little town. They are all graduates of universities -- bright, gifted, and articulate -- and they are risking detention and deportation for the sake of helping us put human faces on the people some call "illegals." More recently a group of undocumented people very publicly rode a bus across much of the country in the tradition of the 1960's Freedom Riders to bear witness to the injustice of our immigration system.

Martin Luther King said, "Everyone has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws." "An injustice wherever it is, is a threat to justice everywhere." He quoted future Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall, "A justice too long delayed is justice denied."

I'm proud of my parishioner Dave Williams who has a lawsuit demanding recognition of his same-sex marriage in California which is not legally recognized at home. I think of all of those who have been bullied, harassed, threatened, beaten and killed because of their sexual orientation or their gender identification.

I see another more subtle threat to justice these days -- a threat to economic justice. For the past thirty years the wealthy and powerful have manipulated the political and economic system to their advantage. They have created a massive concentration of wealth and power in the hands of fewer and fewer people. The greed and manipulation of the elite in the financial industries provoked the recent economic meltdown that has injured so many and threatened the foundations of government and economic stability. While cloaking themselves in the guise of freedom, the wealthy and elite have declared a silent war on the rest of us and upon the government, the only thing that can stand up to them on behalf of the poor. They are attacking the safety nets and programs of compassion and opportunity that offer a hand up to the unfortunate. Who will stand up to them?

At the heart of every struggle for justice is the call of love. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. We give thanks for those whose love is so great that they are willing to risk their own security and lives for the sake of justice for all. May we recognize and respect their struggle and continue their work in our generation.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012 -- Week of Proper 14, Year Two
Saint Mary the Virgin, Mother of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER, the readings for Wednesday of Proper 14, p. 979
Psalms 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30 (morning) 119:121-144 (evening)
Judges 13:15-24
Acts 6:1-15
John 4:1-26

OR, the readings for St. Mary the Virgin, p. 999
Morning Prayer:
Psalms 113, 115
1 Samuel 2:1-10
John 2:1-12
Evening Prayer:
Psalms 45 or 138, 149;
Jeremiah 31:1-14 or Zechariah 2:10-13
John 19:23-27 or Acts 1:6-14

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Dame Julian of Norwich (died c.1416) has a lovely revelation of the experience of God's love for all humanity revealed through Christ's particular love for Mary. Christ asks Julian, "Can you see in her how greatly you are loved?" In Mary, Julian can see the virtues that she can learn for herself.

Julian has three spiritual sights of Mary, the first "when she was big with child, the second sorrowing under the cross, and the third as she is now, delightful, glorious, and rejoicing." Since Mary serves as a symbol for the church and for all humanity under God's love, one might see these three visions as three states of the human situation and experience -- our blessed potential for bearing God's incarnation into the world; our sorrow and suffering; our joyful exaltation within the love and presence of God.

Here is a portion of Julian's delightful "Revelation":

With the same cheerful joy our good Lord looked down to his right and thereby brought to mind the place where our Lady was standing during his passion. "Do you want to see her?" he said, saying in effect, "I know quite well you want to see my blessed Mother, for, after myself, she is the greatest joy I can show you, and most like me and worthy of me. Of all my creation, she is the most desirable sight." And because of his great, wonderful, unique love for this sweet maiden, his blessed Mother our Lady Saint Mary, he showed her to be rejoicing greatly. This is the meaning of the sweet words. It was as if he were saying, "Do you want to see how I love her, so that you can rejoice with me in my love for her, and hers for me?"

Here -- to understand this word further -- our Lord God is speaking to all who are going to be saved, as it were to all humankind in the person of one individual. He is saying, "Can you see in her how greatly you are loved? For love of you made her so exalted, so noble, so worthy. This pleases me, and I want it to please you too." For after himself she is the most blessed of all sights.

But, for all that, I am not expected to want to see her physically present here on earth, but rather to see the virtues of her blessed soul, her truth, her wisdom, her charity, so that I can learn to know myself, and reverently fear my God.

When our good Lord had showed me this and said, "Do you want to see her?" I answered, "Yes, good Lord, thank you very much. Yes, good Lord, if it is your will." I prayed this often, and I thought I was going to see her in person. But I did not see her in this way. Jesus, in that word, gave me a spiritual sight of her. Just as I had seen her before, lowly and unaffected, so now he showed her, exalted, noble, glorious, and pleasing to him above all creation.

He wills it to be known that all who delight in him should delight in her too, with the same pleasure he has in her, and she in him. To help understand it better he gave this example. If you love one particular thing above everything else, you will try to make everyone else love and like what it is you love so greatly. When Jesus said, "Do you want to see her?" I thought is was the nicest word about her that he could possibly have said, together with the spiritual revelation that he gave me of her. Except in the case of our Lady, Saint Mary, our Lord showed me no one specially -- and her he showed three times. The first occasion was when she was big with child, the second sorrowing under the cross, and the third as she is now, delightful, glorious, and rejoicing."

(Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, 25; ET by Clifton Walters, London, 1966, pp. 101-2; quoted by Robert Atwell, Celebrating the Saints, Canterbury, 2010, p. 472)

Friday, August 17, 2012 -- Week of Proper 14
Samuel Johnson, Timothy Cutler, and Thomas Bradbury Chandler, Priests, 1772, 1765, 1790

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 979)
Psalms 102 (morning) 107:1-32 (evening)
Judges 14:20 - 15:20
Acts 7:17-29
John 4:43-54

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Samson is the kind of hero's folk tale that thrives among an oppressed people. His story happens at a time when the Philistines are dominant over the tribes of Israel. The Philistines have consolidated their position in the prosperous coastal plain in an alliance of five strong cities. The Israelites live in the hill country, their tribes related in a loose confederacy. The Philistines are able to reach into the hills and express their power whenever they wish. No doubt, the more sophisticated coast people made sport of their rural circumcised neighbors.

Samson's exploits are the stories of an individual of great personal power and courage who wreaks havoc with an oppressor. When his riddle is betrayed, he raids one of the coastal town and kills forty men to seize their festal garments to pay his bet. He uses clever low-tech means to terrorize the powerful Palestinians -- tying torches to foxes' tails to burn their harvest and orchards; slaying a cohort of men with the jawbone of a donkey. Guerrilla warfare and terrorism.

We've also got the intrigue of counter-terrorism, as the Palestinians exploit his weakness for women to compromise him. This is great spy stuff and a compelling story. Stay tuned. The Delilah story starts tomorrow.

And Sunday's reading for Morning Prayer will bring the cycle to its end. Blind Samson will pull down the pillars of the house "full of men and women; all the lords of the Philistines" -- 3000 of them. Looking ahead at the story, my heart skipped just a bit when I read that number. A suicide attack on a great building in which 3000 were killed. That sounds too familiar.

In the end, nothing much changed. The Philistines still held sway over the Israelites, a condition that would continue for many years until the successes of Saul and David. But the oppressed Israelites had a story of a hero they could tell their children about.

I remember as a child being told the story of Samson. It was one of my favorites. I wanted to grow up to be strong like him, able to defeat God's enemies with my might and cunning. The stuff with girls just sounded perplexing. I wouldn't be so stupid as to tell some girl about the secret of my strength. I wouldn't make the mistakes Samson made -- then nothing could stop me.

It might seem like pretty innocent stuff. Like Superman and Batman. Unless you are a kid growing up in occupied Palestine in a Hezbollah school in Gaza for the children of the unemployed, demoralized masses there. This is the kind of story oppressed people tell to restore a bit of pride. It's the kind of story that inspires courage for resistance. It's the kind of story that plants seeds to grow freedom fighters. It's the kind of story that can create a new generation of heroes -- or terrorists -- depending upon with side of the power struggle you occupy. It's the kind of story that glorifies wanton damage and death. It's not one of my favorite stories anymore.

But then, I am a Philistine, one of the powerful.

What would I think of a story like this if I were a black Moslem in Darfur? ...a Kurdish child on the Turkish-Iraqi border? ...a student in a Taliban school in Pakistan? ...a Palestinian boy in Gaza?

Monday, August 20, 2012 -- Week of Proper 15
Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, 1153

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 981)
Psalms 106:1-18 (morning) 106:19-28 (evening)
Judges 17:1-13
Acts 7:44 - 8:1a
John 5:19-29

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today is the feast day of Bernard, who wrote some of the most passionate sermons and treatises -- some filled with his passionate love of God, some filled with passionate polemic against those whom he thought threatened the church or its faith. Though he has been criticized for his preaching which fueled the disastrous Second Crusade, he is appreciated for stopping a purge of Jews in the Rhineland, and many Jews from there named their sons for him.

Here is a lovely passage from Bernard's On the Love of God as collected by Robert Atwell in his delightful resource Celebrating the Saints, (Canterbury Press, 2010).

God deserves of us all our love, a love which knows no bounds. This is the first thing to understand. The reason is because God was the first to love. God, who is so great, loves us so much; he loves us freely, poor, pathetic, worthless creatures though we be. This is why I insist that our love for God should know no bounds. And since love given to God is given to the One who is infinite and without boundary, what measure or boundary could we make anyway?

God is indeed rich to all who call to him, for he can give them nothing better than to give them himself. He gave himself to be our righteousness, and he keeps himself to be our great reward. He offers himself as refreshment to our souls, and spends himself to set free those in prison. You are good, Lord, to the soul that seeks you. What, then, are you to the soul that find you? The marvel is, no one can seek you who has not already found you. You want us to find you so that we may seek you, but we can never anticipate your coming, for though we say 'Early shall be my prayer come before you,' a chilly, loveless thing that prayer would be, were it not warmed by your own breath and born of your own Spirit.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012 -- Week of Proper 15

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 981)
Psalms [120], 121, 122, 123 (morning) 124, 125, 126, [127] (evening)
Judges 18:1-15
Acts 8:1-13
John 5:30-47

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that testify on my behalf. Yet you refuse to come to me to have life... But I know that you do not have the love of God in you. John 5:39-40, 42

Sincere and conscientious people search the Bible and come to conflicting opinions. We can acknowledge and respect that each has honestly come to their conclusions. We can accept that their interpretation makes sense to them and in some way works for them. But there does come a limit to what we can agree about. There are times when we must agree to disagree, and do so respectfully. We each must make our case and stand by our conscience, but not all Biblically based arguments are equal.

There were so many ways that sincere and conscientious people could look at Jesus and hear his words and they could object to him on Biblical grounds. He seemed to take familiar liberties with God, claiming an intimacy that by some strict interpretations sounded blasphemous. He did acts of compassion and healing on the Sabbath, a violation of one of the Ten Commandments by some judgments. He did not meet the conventional expectations of the Messiah, for he had no political or military impact to drive out the Roman occupation and restore Israel's glory. He did not observe many of the purity laws and consorted with sinners of various kinds -- tax collectors, prostitutes, outcasts, the stricken, demoniacs, a man living in the tombs, women outside his family, Samaritans and foreigners. There were many Biblical grounds for someone to reject Jesus.

How did those who responded to Jesus recognize the presence of God in him? What overcame the "Biblical objections" to his ministry?

I think there are two things. The first and primary is love. Jesus' ministry was characterized by love and compassion. In the passage from John today, Jesus remarks that those who "refuse to come to [him] to have life" are those who "do not have the love of God" in them. When Jesus summarizes the Law with the Great Commandment to love God, neighbor and self, he offers a lens for interpreting the commands of scripture. When those who had the love of God in them experienced the incarnation of that love, they recognized one who was performing God's will, even when those acts seemed contrary to conventional interpretations of scripture. Jesus said, "my judgment is just, because I seek not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me." (5:30b) Jesus reveals that God is love. Love trumps law and tradition.

Jesus was also fearless. He did not play to the fears that so many of his hearers carried, fears often based on scripture. He was not afraid to touch the unclean, to speak intimately with God, to do good on the Sabbath, to show hospitality toward the marginalized.

When we think about the Biblical interpretations that tend to divide us today, might not love and fear be lenses for us to make judgment. Where do we see love in the unexpected place or unexpected person? Where might the appeal to fear be groundless? After all, perfect love casts out fear. (1 John 4:18)

I wonder what it would be like if we took all of the contentious issues that separate believers and put them under one test: Fear not; Love.

August 22, 2012 -- Week of Proper 15

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 981)
Psalms 119:145-176 (morning) 128, 129, 130 (evening)
Judges 18:16-31
Acts 8:14-25
John 6:1-15

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Power and money. These are the idols of our age. I've said for a while that the biggest threat to our nation is the pattern of concentration of power and wealth into fewer and fewer hands. It's has been happening under our radar for the past thirty years. Now unlimited anonymous super PACS can buy even more power and influence for those who already have it. How dare you imply that they pay more taxes or accept regulation for the common good? Meanwhile, income for the middle class and poor has been flat or declining for a decade. But if you whine, the rich and powerful will blame those who try to give voice to the needs of the vast majority. And I pay twice the percentage of taxes as a multi-millionaire presidential candidate. It's a system fixed to favor power and money.

Power and money. These are the idols that establish the house of Dan in our story from Judges. They found the unsuspecting city of Laish, "living securely, ...quiet and unsuspecting, lacking nothing on earth." (Judges 18:7) Along the way to war they came across the home of Micah and his household shrine attended by a Levite priest. The Danites stole the idol and vestments, they bribed the priest and set off. When Micah protested, they told him to shut up, "'or else hot-tempered fellows will attack you, and you will lose your life and the lives of your household.' Then the Danites went on their way. When Micah saw that they were too strong for him, he turned and went back to his home." (18:25-26) The Danites then proceeded to destroy the "quiet and unsuspecting city" of Laish, rebuilt it and named it Dan, and they set up the idol in the temple sanctuary of Dan.

A few years ago I heard the story of an Ozark craftsman who built an attractive birdhouse. It was picked up by a nearby major retailer. They asked for so many orders that he borrowed to expand his production and hired new workers. But after a couple of years the retailer had the product reverse-engineered in China, where they could supply it for much less, and the local craftsman was bankrupted, his workers left unemployed.

We have witnesses to another way. In the Acts of the Apostles we read how Peter and John and the other disciples gave themselves to service, healing and bringing coherence to those who were troubled. When "a certain man named Simon" saw their power, he was fascinated. He saw Peter and John lay hands upon people, "and they received the Holy Spirit." Simon offered the disciples money, trying to buy their power. The disciples rebuked him strongly. "May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain God's gift with money! You have no part or share in this, for your heart is not right before God." (8:20-21)

The gospel story offers a challenging and competing paradigm to the claims of power and money. We see Jesus preaching. There is a large crowd. They are hungry. The business assessors do their calculations. It's impossible. "Six months' wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little." (6:7) Philip notes that there is a boy present who has five barley loaves and two fish. It doesn't say whether Philip asked or the boy volunteered. But the boy generously gave them his food.

The little boy was the 1% in that crowd. He had the food. He could have kept what was his. It belonged to him. He might have decided it wasn't in his self-interest to share or to give it away. But that depends on how you define self-interest, doesn't it? The boy offers what he has for the common good.

Jesus has the people sit down. He give thanks. In that atmosphere of Jesus -- always an atmosphere of love and compassion -- generosity combined with thanksgiving makes all the difference. All are fed. All are satisfied. And there is abundance left over.

Two competing ways of being in the world:
Power and money.
Love and compassion expressed in thanksgiving and generosity.

How different might our nation be if we embraced the values of Jesus?

Monday, August 27, 2012 -- Week of Proper 16
Thomas Gallaudet with Henry Winter Syle, 1902, 1890

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 981)
Psalms 1, 2, 3 (morning) 4, 7 (evening)
Job 4:1; 5:1-11, 17-21, 26-27
Acts 9:19b-31
John 6:60-71

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

It seems so important when reading Job to remember how it comes out in the end. As I listened to the words of Eliphaz today, I had to remind myself of the final verdict at the end of the book -- God rejected the argument of Eliphaz.

But so many of the verses sound so similar to passages in the Psalms or in Proverbs. Some of the pithy nuggets of Job's friends are quoted as examples of Biblical wisdom. I can hear it in the back of my mind -- someone preaching, "The Bible says, 'Human beings are born to trouble just as sparks fly upward.'" Amen brother. But wait. Eliphaz said that, and he was one of the losers in the debate. God said his argument was essentially false. It may not be a great idea to say, "the Bible says..." and quote Eliphaz.

Yet, Eliphaz sounds so much like the Psalms we have today for our morning office. Psalm 1 insists that the righteous are happy, "like trees planted by streams of water, ...everything they do shall prosper... It is not so with the wicked; they are like chaff which the wind blows away." Job's fortunes have been blown away like chaff. His misery must be a sign of his sin, Eliphaz reasons, "therefore do not despise the discipline of the Almighty."

Eliphaz advises Job, "As for me, I would seek God, and to God I would commit my cause." So does the Psalmist, who in the face of many adversaries declares, "I call aloud to you, O God, and you answer me from your holy hill.... Surely, you will strike all my enemies across the face." (Ps. 3) Eliphaz offers similar confidence to Job. "You shall come to your grave in ripe old age, as a shock of grain comes up to the threshing floor in its season. See, we have searched this out; it is true. Hear, and know it for yourself." Eliphaz sounds a lot like Psalm 2. "Let me announce the decree of God, who has said to me, 'You are my Son; this day have I begotten you. Ask of me, and I will give you the nations for your inheritance and the ends of the earth for you possession. You shall crush them with an iron rod and shatter them like a piece of pottery.'"

Eliphaz declares with confidence a conventional wisdom grounded in the theology of the Scriptures, especially the Psalms, Proverbs, and in the theology of the Deuteronomic history. Yet his words feel like an attack to poor Job. They seem shallow and unsatisfactory, not wise and comforting. Eliphaz throws the Book at Job and only adds to Job's suffering.

In the end, God will declare Job's fierce honesty in the darkness to be more faithful, true and authentic than his friends' mastery of the Book.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012 -- Week of Proper 16
Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, and Theologian, 430
Moses the Black, Desert Father and Martyr, c. 405

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 981)
Psalm 5,6 (morning) // 10, 11 (evening)
Job 6:1-4, 8-15, 21
Acts 9:32-43
John 6:60-71

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

From years ago I remember reading something that haunted me. It was a book of fiction, some thriller or murder mystery; I forget the name of the book. The villain was someone who liked to torture people. I was about to repeat the part of the book that so troubled me, but as I was writing it, I decided that it is not something I want to spread. I don't want someone else having to live with a similar image in their memory, even if it is fiction. Suffice it to say, there are situations where one can only wish to die and beg for its relief to come soon. I've been with people at those times. I've begged God for their release.

Job gives word to that terrible anguish: "O that I might have my request, and that God would grant my desire; that it would please God to crush me, that he would let loose his hand and cut me off! ...What is my strength, that I should wait? And what is my end, that I should be patient?" (6:8-9, 11)

After many years of being with people during their final passage to death, I've formed a rather simple, literal belief that God works with particular meaning and efficiency around the timing of death. So often I've seen things happen in the waiting and process of death, usually things that are only recognizable later in retrospect. God seems to use that liminal time to heal relationships and individuals.

Yet as I write this, I also recall other sufferings unto death that I have experienced as mere tragedy. I could no blessing or healing, only extended misery. In those situations, Job's accusation toward his friends hits home to me. He tells them, "You see my calamity, and are afraid." (6:21b) I fear such circumstances for anyone and for myself.

I can pray that we offer our suffering to God as Jesus did on his cross, trusting God to accomplish something when we are helpless. I can pray that God will give meaning to our suffering as he gave meaning to Jesus' cross. I can pray that, in some mysterious way, God will use our human pain as God used Jesus' suffering, for the healing of the world. I can recognize that we may never know how God might use our suffering. I know we may experience the kind of utter abandonment and hopelessness that yields such plaintive words as, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mark 15:34) Remembering such human possibilities puts passion into the petition from the Lord's Prayer, "Save us from the time of trial." Yet, I can imagine God's presence and work in the darkness.

We are still at the beginning of Job. He has yet so much to endure. It makes me wonder for myself and for those whom I love, what shall we have to endure? How shall we manage?

Wednesday, August 29, 2012 -- Week of Proper 16
John Bunyan, Writer, 1688

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 981)
Psalms 119:1-24 (morning) // 12, 13, 14 (evening)
Job 6:1; 7:1-21
Acts 10:1-16
John 7:1-13

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

"God, leave me alone!" is Job's cry. He is haunted and suffering. Bad dreams and long sleepless nights of tossing. Illness that will not improve. His only way out is death.

He parodies Psalm 8, "What are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?" That psalm thanks God for glorifying human beings beyond our deserving. Job turns the psalm on its ear, asking God, why do you pay so much attention to us to make us so miserable? Just look the other way and leave us alone, he tells God. He'll be dead and gone soon, "as the cloud fades and vanishes, so those who go down to Sheol do not come up; they return no more to their houses, nor do their places know them any more. ...I shall lie in the earth; you will seek me, but I shall not be." Death will be his relief from suffering and also his escape from God's hand.

One of the messages of the story of Job is that God accepts such frank lament and complaint. Job is an example of honesty. He can tell God what he really thinks without covering it with pieties or respectful "prayerful" language. This is the real language of prayer from the heart. Job blasts God with his anger and hurt. He shows us how to speak forthrightly to God. We can tell God anything.

In fact, when we are angry or hurt, it is helpful to direct our fury toward God. God is big enough to take it. If we project our anger and hurt on another human being, we are likely to hurt or confuse that person. If we project our anger and hurt inwardly, we are likely to become depressed. The healthiest and safest way to express our deepest and most conflictive emotions is to direct them to God in fierce honesty.

Sometimes we hear nothing in response.

Sometimes we sense that though we hear nothing, God is still there. God does not depart just because we have challenged God.

Occasionally we sense a response. Jeremiah railed at God, calling God a "deceitful brook," and God's response was to scold him for speaking foolishly, and then to give him more authority and work to do. In the book of Job, we hear Job's complaints, and we will wait a long time for God's response. Eventually, Job will experience God face to face, and Job will be changed.

Only God is big enough to take our most extreme emotions. It is right to communicate them to God honestly.
____________________

A note about our reading from Acts. We are beginning a story narrating an important turning point in the history of the early Church. By a revelation in a dream, Peter will have his traditional, Biblical understanding of "clean" and "profane" challenged. Then he be sent to the home of the Roman army officer Cornelius. Peter will witness the presence of God in this household of unclean, Gentile pagans, and Peter will see the gifts of the Holy Spirit manifest in them. He will then do something remarkable and very controversial. Peter will baptize them into the fellowship of the community.

Peter's act will cause a huge church conflict. Why would he do such a unilateral thing, contrary to the Scripture and tradition that they have inherited? Peter will have to face the other apostles and explain his behavior. Peter will explain his vision and his observation of the gifts of the Spirit among these outsiders. "If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?" (11:17) The apostles will be silenced and will thank God for the manifestation of the Spirit among the Gentiles.

But this is a fight that will go on for a long time.

Paul will pick up the banner of inclusion and liberation, baptizing Gentiles into his congregations without circumcision. Repeatedly he will be attacked by fellow Christians, and he will have to defend his actions over and over. But the new, revisionist way will prevail. Once again, God shows the presence of grace where it wasn't expected, the manifestation of the gifts of the Spirit among those believed to be unclean sinners.

It is a story to give heart to the Episcopal Church and other bodies who have seen the gifts of the Spirit among our GLBT brothers and sisters. We've seen the same gifts among them that we have received. We can no longer regard them as unclean or profane. But it will take a long time for all of our fellow Christians to be convinced.

Friday, August 31, 2012 -- Week of Proper 16
Aidan and Cuthbert, Bishops of Lindisfarne, 651, 684

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 981)
Psalms 16, 17 (morning) // 22 (evening)
Job 9:1-15, 32-35
Acts 10:34-48
John 7:37-52

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

We're in political year. One of the tactics we will see is the strategy of fear. Opponents will focus on whatever fear they can manipulate in the public mind and try to make that fear the lens through which we see the other candidate. They know that voters tend to "vote against" more than to "vote for." We've seen for many years the proliferation of attack ads.

Since attack ads often use half-truths, exaggerations and inaccuracies, many of us turn to web sites like factcheck.org, a nonpartisan, nonprofit service that seeks to reduce deception and confusion by monitoring the factual accuracy of political speech.

In John 7, Jesus is beginning to create some political "buzz" at the Jerusalem Festival of Booths. During the dramatic last day of the festival, the traditional reading for that day tells the story of God's giving Israel water from the rock during the sojourn in the wilderness. What an image of hope for a dry and thirsty people.

Jesus takes that image of hope and invites the thirsty to come to him and to receive the life-giving Spirit which will burst from within them like a hidden spring in their souls. The image hits a responsive chord. People speculate: Is he a prophet? Is he the Messiah?

Time for the attack ad. Distract them from his message. Distract them from their hope. Focus on something tangential and make it central. "He's from Galilee. Look in your Bibles. It doesn't say the Messiah comes from Galilee. He's a fraud."

But his message and his way of speaking has a power. They don't arrest him. The authorities are furious. And, you sense that they are a bit afraid of the crowd. They are used to manipulating the crowd with fear and intimidation. They wouldn't want someone outside their control to cause the crowd to gain its own voice. "This crowd, which does not know the law," say the authorities, "they are accursed." It is an ironic statement. It is the authorities who do not know the embodiment of the law in Jesus who is love personified, who has summarized the law to be love of God, neighbor and self.

It is Nicodemus, one of the authorities, who appeals to factcheck.org. "Our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?"

He gets a rude reply. The authorities stick to their talking points. "Surely you are not also from Galilee, are you? Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee." They smear Jesus again with the Galilee button.

There is a tinge of racism in that smear. Galilee is an outsider province. It is a portion of Israel that is influenced by trade and interchange with foreigners. Jerusalem is suspicious of Galileans. During the narrative about Jesus' arrest, Peter is threatened when someone recognizes his Galilean accent. "Certainly you are also one of them, for your accent betrays you." The threat provides Peter with his third temptation to betray Jesus before the cock crows. Fear is all around.

Fear is a terrible motivator. Maybe that is why the phrase "fear not / do not be afraid / be not afraid" occurs 365 times in the scripture, I'm told. One for every day of the week.

Jesus sought to motivate with a loving compassion that inspired hope grounded in a trust of God. Out of his trust in God he brought healing, reconciliation, and a community committed to the "well-being of the least of these." His appeal was to our highest nature: Perfect love, which casts out fear.

The battle between fear and love is both an external and an internal struggle.

I'm reminded of the old Cherokee tale. A Cherokee elder is teaching his grandson about life. "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy. "It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil -- he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued, "The other is good -- he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you -- and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

Monday, September 3, 2012 -- Week of Proper 17
Prudence Crandall, Teacher and Prophetic Witness, 1890

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 983)
Psalms 25 (morning) // 9, 15 (evening)
Job 12:1-6, 13-25
Acts 11:19-30
John 8:21-32

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Note: Much of today's article was printed as a Labor Day column I wrote for the Northwest Arkansas Times, September 1, 2008

The people of Israel began as a labor movement. Their Egyptian overlords instituted a policy of increased productivity -- gather your own straw and meet the same output quotas. Having no union and no standing to negotiate with management, they cried out to God. God answered their complaints, and sent Moses to be their representative in some collective bargaining. Things didn't go too well. So, under God's impetus, Moses led a labor walkout. It turned violent when management called for troops to enforce a return to work. Through God's intervention, however the people of Israel escaped Pharaoh's economics of oppression.

They ended up in the wilderness, where most of what God taught them was about economics, labor and justice. Facing the stark realities of free life outside the imperial system, they had to learn a new way to sustain themselves. At first, they longed for the old slavery, "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." (Exodus 16:3)

But God taught them a new alternative economic practice. God rained down manna from heaven. You can see it as a miracle. You can also see it as metaphor of stewardship of the earth -- agricultural cultivation as a divine gift, beginning with rain and ending with bread.

Moses gave them three economic principles: (1) gather only what you need; (2) do not store up or hoard more than you need; (3) rest on the Sabbath. God's economy is radically different from Egypt's.

Exodus 16:18 articulates the ideal: "Those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed." We see the same practice in the early church centuries later: "All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need." (Acts 2:44)

At the heart of this new economy was the Sabbath, a day when we would cease to exploit or control creation and begin to trust God to provide enough for all. Theologian Ched Myers says, "Sabbath observation means to remember every week this [divine] economy's two principles: the goal of 'enough' for everyone, and the prohibition on hoarding. This vision is, of course, utterly contrary to economics as we know it. And our incredulity is rather humorously anticipated in the story itself: 'Manna' means 'What is this?'" (from "God Speed the Year of Jubilee!", Sojourners Magazine, May-June 1998)

The Sabbath cycle extends beyond the week. Every seventh year the people were instructed to let their land lie fallow so the poor and the undomesticated (wild animals) may eat. In the Sabbath year all debts were to be released. Every seventh Sabbatical year (7 X 7 = 49 years) all property would return to the original family ownership and all indentured servants or slaves were to be freed, reminding us that "the earth is the Lord's" (Ps. 24:1; 1 Cor. 10:26) and that all humans are free people, created in the image and likeness of God.

Jesus picked up on the Jubilee tradition in his opening sermon, announcing "the year of the Lord's favor" as he opened his proclamation of the Gospel, the "good news to the poor." Debt-cancellation and land restoration was indeed good news to the poor.

Throughout his ministry, Jesus spoke of forgiveness of sin and forgiveness of debt interchangeably. He announced a kingdom where many who are first will be last and the last will be first. He urged a banquet table where the poor and those who cannot repay are the first to be invited, where all would receive their "daily bread."

In a decade when our dominant economic policies have favored the wealthy and pressed for more production out of all levels of labor, some Sabbath and Jubilee and liberation seems to be in order.

Right now we languish in a recession brought on by the economics of Pharaoh -- elite player in the financial industry manipulated housing loans until they burst everyone's bubble. Poverty and unemployment have risen. Wealth and power are more concentrated in fewer and fewer hands. Politicians abandon the "common good" while justifying historically low taxes for the wealthy.

The poor and oppressed raise their voices to heaven and to ask for some divine intervention for liberation from this economy of Pharaoh. The economics of greed has not worked. It is time for our society to embrace Biblical principles of justice -- God's economy and "good news for the poor."

Tuesday, September 4, 2012 -- -- Week of Proper 17
Paul Jones, Bishop, 1941

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 983)
Psalms 26, 28 (morning) // 36, 39 (evening)
Job 12:1, 13:3-17, 21-27
Acts 12:1-17
John 8:33-47

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

The Gospel often makes a sharp contrast between the willingness of the poor, the sinner and the outcast to hear Jesus' message and the unwillingness of the authorities, the learned and powerful. Today Jesus tells them frankly, if you were of God you would recognize me, because I am from God. Sadly, their proud theology has no room for his simple message of generous love and compassion. But those who were humble and meek recognized Jesus and loved him.

Here is an evocative passage about the meekness that enlightens, from the 7th century monastic John Climacus:

The light of dawn comes before the sun, and meekness is the precursor of all humility. So let us listen to the order in which Christ, our Light, places these virtues. He says, "Learn from me because I am meek and humble of heart." Therefore, before gazing at the sun of humility we must let the light of meekness flow over us. If we do, we will then be able to look steadily at the sun. The true order of these virtues teaches us that we are totally unable to turn our eyes to the sun before we have first become accustomed to the light.

Meekness is a mind consistent amid honor and dishonor. Meekness prays quietly and sincerely for a neighbor, however troublesome he may be. Meekness is a rock looking out over the sea of anger which breaks the waves which come crashing on it and stays entirely unmoved. Meekness is the bulwark of patience, the door, indeed the mother of love, and the foundation of discernment. For it is said, "The Lord will teach his ways to the meek." And it is meekness that earns pardon for our sins, gives confidence to our prayers and makes a place for the Holy Spirit. As it stands in the prophecy of Isaiah: "To whom shall I look if not to the meek and the peaceful?"

Meekness works alongside obedience; it guides a religious community, checks frenzy, curbs anger. It is a minister of joy, an imitation of Christ, the possession of angels, a shackle for demons, a shield against bitterness. The Lord finds rest in the hearts of the meek, while the turbulent spirit is the home of the devil, for "the meek shall inherit the earth."

John Climacus, from The Ladder of Divine Ascent, 24; ET by Colm Luibheid & Normal Russell, 1982, p. 214-15; quoted by Robert Atwell, Celebrating the Seasons, Canterbury, 1999, p.414

Wednesday, September 5, 2012 -- Week of Proper 17
Gregorio Aglipay, Priest and Founder of the Philippine Independent Church, 1940

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (Book of Common Prayer, p. 983)
Psalm 38 (morning) // 119:25-48 (evening)
Job 12:1, 14:1-22
Acts 12:18-25
John 8:47-59

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

In today's readings we have a contrast between a religion of oppression and a religion of exultation. It is the contrast between the words of Job and the words of Jesus. (Ultimately, Job's experience of the presence of God reconciles him and takes him into a religion of exultation. But not today.)

Today Job speaks of a God who is a distant and impeccable judge. Job wonders why God would even concern the divine self with something as insignificant as a human. We live short, brutal lives; we die; we are no more. Job yearns for the impossibility of some sort of resurrection. But the only picture is of an impassive God who brings fierce judgment upon humans, miserable sinners that they are. Job would speak to God, but God is beyond human knowing. Distant. Silent. Impassive at best. When active, God simply destroys in judgment. Such an oppressive God creates oppressive religion.

Gerald May said, "In all my experience as a psychiatrist and as a human being, the deepest, most pervasive pathology I have seen is the incredible harshness we have towards ourselves." Some of the fault lies with religious education, he says. "Religious condemnation and moral guilt have been used for child-rearing and political control. ...The more cruel we are to ourselves, the more likely we are to be mean to others."

In my experience, the meanest forms of Christianity are those that picture God as a distant judge declaring sentence upon a completely guilty and sinful humanity. The weight of such a God bears down upon us, miserable offenders. Job's words apply. How do you live up to perfection? In those forms of Christianity, Jesus is our escape clause from God's judgment. But so much of the focus remains on our sin and our character as hopeless and fallen sinners.

In John's Gospel, Jesus offers an alternative vision, grounded in an organic union with God, in love. His picture of God is of a loving, intimate Parent-God who glorifies us and frees us for eternal life here and now. Jesus offers an exalted, hopeful vision that sees us united in the very life of God.

The footnotes to the Access Bible trace the conversation between Jesus and his opponents. "The argument with the Jewish leaders elicits an escalating series of claims from Jesus: 'I honor my Father; whoever keeps my word will never see death; it is my Father who glorifies me; I know the Father and I keep his word; Abraham rejoiced that he would see my day; before Abraham was, I am.' The opponents remain at the literal, earthbound level: 'You are a Samaritan and have a demon; Abraham died; the prophets died; you are not yet fifty years old.' "

We see the contrast between two forms of religion: judgment vs. grace, bondage vs. freedom, oppression vs. exultation. Actually, both paths can lead to God. If we travel the path of judgment, bondage and oppression, our despair can ultimately throw us into the arms of God. Yet, always available at any moment is the path of grace, freedom and exultation. Either way, Job's way or Jesus' way, all paths can lead ultimately to God.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012 -- Week of Proper 18
Harry Thacker Burleigh, Composer, 1949

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 983)
Psalm 45(morning) // 47, 48 (evening)
Job 29:1-20
Acts 14:1-18
John 10:31-42

Is the cup half full or is it half empty?

On the one hand, Jesus heals a man born blind. It is a wondrously good act testifying to the presence of God with him. On the other hand, he announces his oneness with God, an impossible and heretical claim.

Both sides can quote their scripture. Has there ever been a conflict between religious people when that wasn't true. Jesus cites Psalm 82:6 -- "Now I say to you, 'You are gods, and all of you children of the Most High.'" Then he points to the works. Are then not good works, consistent with the works that God does? He reasserts that "the Father is in me and I am in the Father." They aren't convinced. But it's enough that he is able to escape arrest.

What do you see? The half full or the half empty glass? The good works or the questionable theology? A human being who is one with God or a mere finite creature at a metaphysically infinite distance from God?

Jesus tends to fall on the half full side of these dilemmas. Later on in John's gospel he will extend the astonishing talk about oneness with God. He will continue to assert his own union, but he will say to his friends that they share such a divine identity and intimacy as well. You remember the language -- "I am in the Father, and you in me and I in you... The Spirit abides with you, and will be in you." And his prayer to God, "As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us."

Jesus' claim of union with God includes us. We are one with God. We live in Christ in God. The Spirit abides in us. "You are gods, and all of you children of the Most High."

Or, others will point out in scripture, we are sinners, unholy and separated from God. You remember the language. Miserable offenders, unworthy to pick up the crumbs that fall from thy table. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. The wages of sin is death.

For most people, it seems, it was easier to believe that Jesus was blaspheming than that he was speaking the truth about his oneness with God. Probably for most people, it is easier to believe that they are sinners than that they are divine.

How different might life be if we all reconsidered? What if it is true? "You are gods, and all of you children of the Most High." Might make us feel a little different about ourselves. Might make us feel a little different about others. That glass may look a little fuller than it did.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012 -- Week of Proper 18
John Henry Hobart, Bishop of New York, 1830

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 983)
Psalms 119:49-72 (morning) // 49, [53] (evening)
Job 29:1, 30:1-2, 16-31
Acts 14:19-28
John 11:1-16

The power of love and the presence of meaning can be stronger than death itself.

We're reading some of the most exquisite poetry of suffering in this section of Job. Job's anguish is real at many levels. He suffers physically. His friends have failed him. He has lost family, fortune and his place in community. Yet throughout his lament, his deepest cry is for some sense of meaning within his misery. His cry is to God. Why? His deepest desire is for God to speak to him and to show him the cause of his grief and a purpose behind his anguish. It is essentially the cry of love. He has loved and followed God. Why has God now abandoned him to this? His deepest despair within his suffering is the absence of love and and the loss of meaning.

Paul, on the other hand, is doing what he loves most. He is spreading the message that has given meaning to his life. It is dangerous work and hard. In Lystra Paul is stoned, dragged out of the city and left for dead. "But when the disciples surrounded him, he got up and went into the city. The next day he went on with Barnabas to Derbe." Amazing. There is a regenerative power in love and meaningful living.

Finally we read of Jesus learning of Lazarus, "he whom you love is ill." Jesus recognizes a purpose and meaning in Lazarus' illness. "This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God's glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it." He establishes the foundation upon which Lazarus will be resuscitated from the dead.

Human beings can survive and prevail over great suffering and travail as long as our lives have meaning and love at their core. It is the source of our courage. It is regenerative. And its absence is life threatening.

What meaning inspires our lives? What love regenerates us?

Friday, September 14, 2012 -- Week of Proper 18
Holy Cross Day

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Friday of Proper 18, p. 983
Psalms 40, 54 (morning) // 51 (evening)
Job 29:1, 31:24-40
Acts 15:12-21
John 11:30-44

OR the readings for Holy Cross Day, p. 999
Morning Prayer: Psalm 66; Numbers 21:4-9; John 3:11-17
Evening Prayer: Psalm 118; Genesis 3:1-15; 1 Peter 3:17-22

[I read the lessons appointed for Holy Cross Day]

Serpents and snakes have a rich place in human imagination. They play major roles in our mythological, dream, and symbolic language. Cold blooded and bound to the earth, threatening yet phallic. It is an ancient symbol of evil and death as well as life, healing, and fertility.

When fiery serpents threatened the Israelites in the wilderness, Moses made a bronze image of the serpent, raised it up upon a pole, and everyone who looked upon it lived.

Whenever we are able to take our deep and often unconscious fears and threats, raise them into the light of consciousness, and look at them with rationality and faith, we become more mature and conscious, more congruent and less compulsive.

John's Gospel imagines Jesus as the light of the eternal Word of God which descends out of timelessness into time and out of spirit into flesh to become human. (We get the words "human" and "humus" from the same root.) Divine loving acceptance revealed in a human earthy life.

In the crucifixion, Jesus takes evil and death upon him in a vivid and public spectacle and is raised upon a pole in full view. Our ugliness is exposed to light; our darkness is revealed to conscious sight.

Jesus accepts our darkest evil and our deathly fears without flinching, raises them into the light of full conscious view, and returns to us only love and acceptance. This is the acceptance that can disarm us from our compulsions, save us from our fears, and heal us from our brokenness. If we are willing to have even our most unconscious deeds exposed, ("Ah, holy Jesus, ...I crucified thee." Hymn 158) our darkness comes to light and we are given resurrection life, healing, and the fertile fruits of the spirit. This is the way of the cross.

"And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life." (John 3:14-16)

Monday, September 17, 2012 -- Week of Proper 19
Hildegard, 1179

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 56, 57, [58] (morning) // 64, 65 (evening)
Job 40:1-24
Acts 15:36 - 16:5
John 11:55 - 12:8

God has begun to answer Job. With astonishing suddenness, God appears out of the whirlwind (beginning in chapter 38). Job has asked for a legal hearing. Now he gets more than he bargained for.

Job has charged that the world is without design and dysfunctional. In the first of God's speeches (we hear only the conclusion today), God challenges Job by asking if he actually witnessed the foundation of the earth. It has a careful design indeed, but the world is created not for human beings but for God's own inscrutable purpose. In the previous chapters, God lists sixteen items, half from the inanimate world and half from the animal and bird kingdoms -- all are magnificent or wondrous in their own way. And Job had no role in them. The human race, including Job, are not the center of the universe.

Today we start with Job's shy response. Then, God's second speech begins. Its topic is justice. Job has impugned God's justice.

In the West, we think of justice as passive and impartial -- the blind Liberty holding scales, impassively hearing both sides. In the ancient Near Eastern concept, justice is active and partial, upholding the righteous and putting down the wicked. It is in this sense that Job accuses God for allowing the unjust to prosper and the righteous, like Job, to suffer.

God's mysterious answer is to describe two mythological beasts -- Behemoth (today's reading) and Leviathan (tomorrow). These symbolize the two great untamed and chaotic areas of desert and sea. God's demonstrates control over ultimate cosmic evil, but God does not necessarily exercise control over it for the immediate benefit of human beings. These beasts symbolize fearsome powers beyond our understanding or control. Yet, they have a place in God's universe. They fulfill no evident function, cannot be domesticated, and do not serve humanity. Yet they exist under the providence and control of God, despite their potential for evil.

The world is God's, in all its power and mystery. Human beings are not the center of the universe.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012 -- Week of Proper 19
Edward Bouverie Pusey, Priest, 1882

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) // 68:1-20 (21-23) 24-36 (evening)
Job 40:1, 41:1-11
Acts 16:6-15
John 12:9-19

Today is the feast of the Oxford Tractarian and noted preacher Edward Bouverie Pusey. Here is a nice excerpt from one of his sermons:

Holiness is made for all. It is the end for which we were made; for which we were redeemed; for which God the Holy Ghost is sent down and 'shed abroad in the hearts' which will receive him. God willed not to create us as perfect. He willed that we, through grace, should become perfect. We know not why our freewill is so precious in the eyes of God that he waits for us, pleads with us, draws us, allures us, wins us, overpowers us with his love; but he will not force us. He made us to be like him. And what is this but to be holy? 'Be ye holy, for I your God am holy.'

The mistake of mistakes is to think that holiness consists in great or extraordinary things beyond the reach of ordinary people. It has been well said, 'Holiness does not consist in doing uncommon things, but in doing common things uncommonly well.' ...

It is not by great things, but by great diligence in little everyday things that thou canst show great love for God, and become greatly holy, and a saint of God. Few ever do great things, and the few who can do them can each do but few. But every one can study the will of God and can give great diligence to know it and to do what he knows. Everyone can, by the grace of God, be faithful to what he knows. Your daily round of duty is your daily path to come nearer to God.

(from Robert Atwell, Celebrating the Saints, Canterbury, 1998, p. 529)

Wednesday, September 19, 2102 -- Week of Proper 19
Theodore of Tarsus, Archbishop of Canterbury, 690

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 72 (morning) // 119:73-96 (evening)
Job 42:1-17
Acts 16:16-24
John 12:20-26

The conclusion of Job.

Job quotes the two questions that God has spoken earlier. Then he concludes with the wonderful acknowledgment of his epiphany: "I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you."

Knowing God and knowing about God are vastly different things. Knowing about God is the context for vast theological disputes such as the conversations that have filled this remarkable book. But knowing God -- "now my eye sees you" -- moves us into awe and silence.

An innocent man suffers? Impossible, said the friends, holding on to their conventional theology. But Job clings to both sides of the dilemma with dogged tenaciousness -- "God is...; and I, though innocent, suffer..." He holds the mutually incompatible in tension long enough until he experiences a transcendent truth that reconciles them. The friends know about God. But Job is willing to engage the mystery fully enough actually to know God.

Mystics from every religious tradition connect the experience of the divine -- enlightenment -- with various descriptions of the effect upon the self. Some describe an evaporation of the duality of self and other into an experience of the whole, a unitive experience. All mystical spiritualities posit the disillusion of any form of self-centeredness. Some call it the dismantling of the false self, others speak of the surrender of the ego or of the "I" -- the self (small "s") dissolves into the Self (large "S"), the individual knows union with God.

Yet, whenever I read this story, I am left pondering what has been lost. Does the restoration of a new family really make up for the family he has lost? Does it really make sense in the end? Is God and the universe truly just? The resignation that I experience at the end of Job doesn't bring me the same satisfaction that it seems to bring Job.

Maybe the experience of God simply can't be translated. It can't be given from one person to another. We must have that experience for ourselves. It's not enough just to talk about God. It's not enough to know about God. Maybe we need more than to hear about Job's encounter with the numinous. We also must be able to say, "I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you..." Then, all else may be relative to the ultimate for us, as well as for Job.

Friday, September 21, 2012 -- -- Week of Proper 19
Saint Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer)

EITHER the readings for Friday of Proper 19, p. 985
Psalms 69:1-23(24-30)31-38 (morning) // 73 (evening)
Esther 1:1-4, 10-19 or Judith 4:1-15
Acts 17:1-15
John 12:36b-43

OR for the Feast of St. Matthew, p. 999
Morning Prayer: Psalm 119:41-64; Isaiah 8:11-20; Romans 10:1-15
Evening Prayer: Psalms 19, 112; Job 28:12-28; Matthew 13:44-52

We have two choices for readings today -- either the readings for Friday, Proper 19 or the readings for St. Matthew.
For the next week we also have choices to read either from Esther or Judith

In several places in the Hebrew scripture, the text implies that God blinds some people so that they fail to respond to God's activity. Their failure then provokes God's judgment and some ensuing catastrophe.

In today gospel reading, John 12:40 quotes from the call of Isaiah (chapter 6), remembering the old story. When Isaiah responds to God's call, saying, "Here am I; send me!" God tells Isaiah, "Go and say to this people: 'Keep listening, but do not comprehend; keep looking, but do not understand.' Make the mind of this people dull, and stop their ears, and shut their eyes, so that they may not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and comprehend with their minds, and turn and be healed." Isaiah knows that his message will be rejected. He asks, "How long, O Lord?" The answer is ominous. "Until cities lie waste without inhabitant, and houses without people, and the land is utterly desolate..."

In Genesis it says that God hardened the heart of the Pharaoh so that he would not let the Hebrew people go. But in 2 Corinthians 4, Paul declares it is "the god of this world" who blinds the minds of the unbelievers, "to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ."

It is easy to accept that some people are blind because they are oriented away from the priorities of God, distracted by worldly concerns, the gods of this world. It seems more problematic that God would intentionally blind others in order to pursue some divine intent.

Yet so often we can see, usually in retrospect, how evil designs and wrong intention may often set in motion great opportunities for divine blessing. The story of Joseph's being sold into slavery by his brothers gets reinterpreted that way. The brothers meant it for evil, but God meant it for good. Had Joseph not been sold, he would not have been in a position to save his family from famine.

How do we interpret the cross? Wasn't it God's intention that all would listen to Jesus, heed his message, and turn with love toward God, neighbor and self? Yet it was certain that if Jesus challenged the Temple monopoly with a message of open access to God's grace and forgiveness, and also challenged the Roman authority with his invitation to a Messianic Kingdom where God, not Caesar reigns, then Jesus certainly would be killed by those authorities. So, did the "gods of this world" blind them so they could not see his light? Or did God stop their ears and blind their eyes so that Jesus could reign from the cross?

In either interpretation, we are saying that God prevails. Some may see God's mastery as so thorough and so overweening that God is behind even the evils that God must rescue us from. There is something comforting about imagining the possibility that the willing ignorance which we see around us, the kind of stupidity that can lead only to catastrophe, is also within God's hands and purpose.

Right now our nation seems to be in the grip of such fear and anger that we appear destined for catastrophes. Blind, incomprehensible, reactionary rhetoric abounds. It seems unlikely that sentiments like those which motivate the Tea Party can create anything good.

We have so many Biblical examples of desperate circumstances. Both of our options for our first reading are set in ugly times. The story of Esther hearkens to a kind of Jewish persecution that has haunted history. In the story of Judith, Israel is caught in the grip of fear. We keep reading of the serial rejections that Paul faced, with life-threatening violence, as he moved through the diaspora with his gospel. And in our gospel readings, Jesus heads for the cross, with willing courage.

God save us from our selves and from all else that threatens us. Especially when we are so blind and deaf that we do not know how to help ourselves.

Monday, September 24, 2012 -- Week of Proper 20

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 80 (morning) 77, [79 (evening)
Esther 4:1-17 or Judith 7:1-7, 19-32
Acts 18:1-11
Luke (1:1-4); 3:1-14

And the crowds asked John, "What then should we do?" In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, "Teacher, what should we do?" He said to them, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." Soldiers also asked him, "And we, what should we do?" He said to them, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusations, and be satisfied with your wages." Luke 3:10-14

John the Baptist declares a religious pronouncement: "Prepare the way of the Lord, ...bear fruits worthy of repentance." One might expect that his next words would focus on religious topics -- return to prayer, be faithful in worship, study and heed the scriptures, live a moral and upright life. Well, he does urge a certain attention toward moral deeds, but they are all deeds of economics.

John tells them to live personal lives of simplicity and generosity -- "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise."

He speaks to the officials, demanding that they completely change their methods of business and to "collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." That is practically a demand that they go out of business. Tax collectors and toll collectors lived on the "honest graft" that they collected above and beyond the actual taxes and tolls that they had to return 100% to their superiors. It was a corrupt and abusive system that favored the rich and exploited the poor.

For many Jews, the notion that John might have anything other than condemnation to say to members of the Roman occupying army might be scandalous. But he tells them simply not to abuse their powers.

Economics, economics, economics. That's the opening message from the first prophet in centuries. That was frequently the message of the ancient prophets as well.

It would be interesting to speculate what economic commands John the Baptist might give to us today. "What then should we do?"

We live in an economy that has some similarities to first century Palestine. Wealth was concentrated then. According to William R. Herzog, II (Parables as Subversive Speech) the top 2 percent of the population controlled between 50 and 67 percent of the annual wealth. Our circumstance are more encouraging. The top one-percent only earns 16% of the U.S. annual income, but they do control 35% of all wealth. The lower 40% of our population owns less than one-third of one-percent of American wealth. What would it mean in our society for those with two coats to share with those who have none? What form of sharing and generosity would it take for everyone to have food and a coat -- a level of basic security?

And tax collecting is very interesting in our country. Mr. Romney was quoted recently saying something I've heard repeated over and over as a scandalous truth -- nearly half of Americans pay nothing in Federal Income Tax. I don't think John the Baptist would be impressed with that charge.

A fourth of that group are elderly, retired, or disabled, many on fixed incomes collecting Social Security and Medicare. Quite a few are retired military, collecting the benefits they have earned. (We call them entitlements.)

The majority of them simply don't earn enough money to pay federal income tax. But they do pay taxes. Most of them pay a larger percentage of their income in taxes than Mr. Romney does. The working poor remit Social Security and Medicare payroll taxes amounting to 15.3% of their salaries. They pay sales taxes and motor-fuel taxes -- and pay a much larger percentage of their income than the wealthy because they don't have the luxury of saving.

So many of our tax breaks are out of reach of many if not a majority of Americans. Capital gains taxes and mortgage interest deductions favor those wealthy enough to buy and hold stocks or to purchase a home. The "step-up in basis rule" lets inherited wealth pass along with lower or no taxes. Retirement savings are taxed at lower rates, and a charitable deduction is not the same for those who are too poor to itemize or in a low bracket. In Arkansas, because we take income taxes from very low wage levels and because our primary tax is sales tax (a very regressive tax), our poorest citizens pay twice the proportion of their income in taxes rate as do our wealthiest.

I can imagine what John the Baptist might say about the American tax system, and it wouldn't be pretty. What is the 21st century equivalent of "brood of vipers"?

How might we prevent the abuse of power? How might we repent? How might we create an economic system that insures basic security and a fair opportunity for all? I think it starts with a strong commitment to the common good and to the infrastructure that serves all people -- food and shelter, excellent education, abundant living wage jobs, care for children, access to health care, good public transportation, fair economic policies, safe streets, a healthy environment, access to museums and parks and other public enhancements -- the economic things that make for abundant life.

"What then should we do?" If John the Baptist were speaking to us, if he addressed the economics of our day, what would he say?

Tuesday, September 25, 2012 -- Week of Proper 20
Sergius, Abbot of Holy Trinity, Moscow, 1392

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 78:1-39 (morning) 78:40-72 (evening)
Esther 5:1-14 or Judith 8:9-17, 9:1, 7-10
Acts 18:12-28
Luke 3:15-22

The drama of the book of Judith is compelling. The Jewish city of Bethulia is trapped behind strong city gates. Surrounding them is a mighty siege army of Assyrians. The water has run out. It is the dry season when no rain comes. Many of the citizens have urged surrender. They know that they would become slaves, deported wherever and however the conquering Assyrians wish. But this seems preferable than the slow deaths by thirst and famine followed by the inevitable attack which will breach their walls, bringing violent rape, death and pillage.

The town leader has urged them to hold out a little longer -- for five more days. Ask God to deliver us, he says. If God has not done so in five days, we will surrender.

The beautiful and pious widow Judith summons the town leaders to her home. She scolds them: "What you have said to the people today is not right... Who are you to put God to the test today...? No, my brothers, do not anger the Lord our God. For if he does not choose to help us within these five days, he has power to protect us within any time he pleases, or even to destroy us in the presence of our enemies. ...God is not like a human being, to be threatened, or like a mere mortal, to be won over by pleading. Therefore, while we wait for his deliverance, let us call upon him to help us, and he will hear our voice, if it pleases him. ...In spite of everything let us give thanks to the Lord our God, who is putting us to the test as he did our ancestors."

That is a remarkable speech. Judith exhibits profound trust in God. She refuses to play deadline games with the divine. With great determination, she accepts the dire situation, facing it as a challenge in the tradition of her ancestors, and she expresses thanks to God despite the threats.

Within that spirit, she prays. Then she determines to take action herself, asking God, "Give to me, a widow, the strong hand to do what I plan. By the deceit of my lips strike down the slave with the prince and the prince with his servant; crush their arrogance by the hand of a woman."

Trust and acceptance. Grateful thanksgiving. Prayer and determination in action.

That's not a bad pattern.

Too often I spend wasteful energy whining or being anxious about what is. What is, is. Complaint and fear add nothing to it. Anxiety only makes action harder. Something is freed whenever we radically accept the circumstances of the present moment as being the container for God's activity in our lives. If God is to be with us, God can only be with us in this present moment, in these circumstances -- for this is what we have to work with.

There is also something powerful released whenever we receive the present moment and its circumstances with thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is our active trust of God. At some time each of us will have to offer to God our lives. We do that best when we do so with thanksgiving.

The prayer of Judith is not passive. She boldly determines to act, with courage and decisiveness. She does not sit back in victimhood. She makes a plan, risky and creative, and she throws herself into action to participate with God in the work of deliverance of her people.

The spirituality of Judith: Acceptance. Thanksgiving. Prayer and Action.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012 -- Week of Proper 20
Lancelot Andrewes, Bishop of Winchester, 1626
Wilson Carlile, Priest, 1942

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 119:97-120 (morning) 81, 82 (evening)
Esther 6:1-14 or Judith 10:1-23
Acts 19:1-20
Luke 4:1-13

I chose to read from Judith

Luke's story of Jesus' temptation in the wilderness speaks of the temptations that face all of us.

Security: Jesus is famished after forty days of fasting. The devil tempts him to abandon his reliance upon God alone and to feed himself by an act of magic. Jesus raises his vision beyond his physical needs and beyond his feelings of threatened security -- "One does not live by bread alone."

Esteem: The devil shows Jesus the glory of all the kingdoms of the world and offers it to Jesus. He can have the whole world at his feet if he will only give his worship to the devil -- give highest worth to something created rather than to the divine. "Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him," answers Jesus, keeping his loyalty to the mysterious and free God.

Power: Quoting the Bible, the devil offers Jesus the angelic powers for his command. Throw yourself from the pinnacle of the temple. You will have such power that nothing can harm you. Jesus' answer: "Do not test God." (Remember just a few days ago this was Judith's answer to her city's plan to surrender to the Assyrians if God doesn't rescue them in five days.)

Security, esteem, and power. God gives us divine security, divine love and esteem, divine power and control -- on God's terms. We are healthy when we trust God for these things. Our problems come when we exaggerate our needs for security, esteem and control, and when we set ourselves to get these things on our terms. When we are addicted enough to our exaggerated needs for security, esteem and control, we will do damaging things, we will sell out to the devil to get our needs met. We will seek to posses whatever passes for the symbols of security, esteem and power in our culture.

In our congregation's Servant Leadership course we offer God's antidote to our addictions: Compassion, community and co-creation.

When our deepest motivation mirrors the fundamental characteristic of Jesus -- compassion -- we are motivated by God's values rather than our exaggerated selfish needs. When we see ourselves within the community of humanity rather than insisting that the world revolve around our own individuality, we act with proper focus for the common good. When we join in God's work of reconciliation, peace and justice, we share in the Creator's purpose and power.

These same issues play out in our other two readings.

In an extreme condition of insecurity and threat, Judith tells the leaders not to put God to the test, but to trust God completely. Then she devises a plan to act for the good of her community and aligns herself to God in trust. She is enabled to act boldly.

Paul faces threats and challenges daily as he works with the community in Ephesus, building up their faith and their spirit for two years. His power, which comes from God, is authentic power. He brings healing to those who are sick and coherence to those who are oppressed. We see his authentic power contrasted with the magic tricks of the exorcists who know only the form and not the substance of Jesus.

We live in a culture that is tempted by false gods selling greed and selfishness, prejudice, and power for the price of abandoning our essential values as a peaceful, loving people of compassion, extending hospitality in order to create a society that works for liberty and justice for all.

We live in a time where fear and anger seek to bring out the worst in us -- selfishness, tribalism, and aggression.

The temptations of the wilderness cry for our allegiance. They tell us to be afraid for our security and to protect ourselves with greed and violence. They tell us to be arrogant and selfish and to raise up our own kind at the expense of others -- glory is ours and will not be shared. They tell us to exercise power in narrow, tribalistic ways and not take responsibility to pay for the powers we exercise. It is an ugly and dangerous time. Jesus help us.

Our stories from scripture tell us to put our trust in God. Our security, esteem and power comes from God, not from our self-centered ways. We find life when we live with compassion, in community, joining God's work of healing, reconciliation, liberation and economic justice. It's either God's agenda or the temptations of the world, the flesh and the devil. Whose side will we be on?

Wednesday, October 3, 2012 -- Week of Proper 21
George Kennedy Allen Bell, Bishop of Chichester, and Ecumenist, 1958
John Raleigh Mott, Evangelist and Ecumenical Pioneer, 1955

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 101, 109:1-2(5-19)20-30 (morning) // 119:121-144 (evening)
Hosea 4:11-19
Acts 21:15-26
Luke 5:27-37

Today's readings are full of disquietude.

Psalm 109 has one of the longest and most complete sets of curses I've ever seen. The Psalmist is hurt and threatened by someone powerful. He pours out his anguish and venom to God, begging God to intercede and to annihilate his accuser. "Let his children be fatherless and his wife become a widow. Let his children be waifs and beggars; let them be driven from the ruins of their homes. ...Let his descendants be destroyed." What is the wicked man's offense? "He did not remember to show mercy, but persecuted the poor and needy and sought to kill the brokenhearted." The Psalmist identifies himself: "I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me." It sounds like the fury in some of the streets of America, or maybe in other parts of the world, where the poor know themselves to be abandoned or manipulated. Their anger is fierce and potentially violent.

We're reading the prophet Hosea, who uses the metaphor of marriage to accuse Israel of unfaithfulness to God. Israel is like a whore, says Hosea. Israel is forsaking the true God and following Baal, the Canaanite god who promises rain and agricultural prosperity. Sometimes these passages about worshipping idols can sound quaint and antiquarian in our ears. We don't believe in idols, after all. Or do we? My friend Jay McDaniel says that our false religion is consumerism, and that our idols are pictured in every commercial that promises that we will be affluent, powerful and attractive. That's the only America that some other cultures see. We look arrogant, impious and threatening to them. It doesn't take a far jump before they are thinking of us in the same terms the Psalmist uses.

In Acts, Paul returns to Jerusalem after his long mission to cities in Asia Minor and Europe. He has been going to Jewish synagogues throughout the diaspora teaching about Jesus. And he has been sharing his message with Gentiles as well, creating communities of Jews and Gentiles who gather together in Christ's name. The word is out about him. People in Jerusalem have heard and are angry. "They have been told about you that you teach all the Jews living among the Gentiles to forsake Moses, and that you tell them not to circumcise their children or observe the customs." That's pretty accurate. The only inaccuracy is that Jewish Christians in Paul's churches often continued their traditional Jewish practices, but they were expected to eat with their Gentile brothers and sisters in their common communion. James tries to accommodate the traditionalists. He has Paul perform a very public rite of Jewish piety, hoping to quiet the accusers. It won't work. Paul will be smeared with the "law-breaking Gentile-lover" label.

And in today's gospel, Jesus offers two wonderful metaphors for the strain of conflict that change brings. You can't patch an old, faded garment with bright new cloth. And old, dry wineskins will burst if you put new wine in them. That's his response when Jesus is criticized for going to a banquet at the tax-collector Levi's house. It is a scandalous act. Jesus gets criticized roundly for his partying ways: Your disciples don't fast and pray, they eat and drink. Jesus presents a different way of life. His new cloth and the new wine will have a hard time mixing with the old ways.

There are so many rips in the fabric of our contemporary life. Change and conflict are ubiquitous. The poor and marginalized are hurt, and many are angered. The rich and powerful clutch their idols possessively. There is fear and exclusion of the other. And Jesus' message of generosity and inclusion still stretches us to the breaking point.

Friday, October 5, 2012 -- Week of Proper 21, Year 2

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalm 102 (morning) // 107:1-32(evening)
Hosea 10:1-15
Acts 21:37 - 22:16
Luke 6:12-26

The words that lead up to Jesus' "sermon on the plain" are like the working of a symphony rising to its thematic emphasis. First, Jesus prays all night, and then he calls the Twelve. They all come down to a level place where a multitude from many regions gather. Jesus heals, and the people experience the power that is his from the Spirit. Then Jesus begins to speak, "Blessed are you who are poor..."

I've always had my own personal difficulty with the message of this sermon, a central proclamation from Jesus. I like the first few verses just fine. Jesus blesses the poor, the hungry and those who weep. Throughout the gospel, indeed throughout the Hebrew scriptures as well, we can see God's particular and special interest for the poor and troubled. It is easy to imagine the Kingdom of God blessing with special care those who have not received their fair share in life. By extension, it seems easy to me for us to embrace the values of the Kingdom as our work in Jesus name. If we are to be Jesus' people, we can use our political, economic and religious energies to bless and heal those whom Jesus reached out to with such emphasis -- especially the poor, the hungry, and the oppressed.

I'm okay with the blessings on those who are punished "on account of the Son of Man." I've seen the price good people have paid for standing up for things that are right but unpopular.

It's verse 24 where I start to squirm. "But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets."

I'm rich. I always have been. I was born into unearned privilege. Simply being born in this country was a rich advantage of immeasurable value. I have received my consolation. With that comes responsibility, I believe. But it distresses me that I am the target of woe rather than blessing. I don't quite know what to make of that, but it discomforts me.

In a way I can understand the woe directed at the "full." Those who are full do not experience hunger. I know how to read this verse spiritually. There are times when I am full of things -- theology, religious knowledge, settled beliefs. When I am like that, there is not much room for God to feed me. So much of my growth has been from my growing hungry and dissatisfied, spiritually and theologically. I see people who are so full of their certainties that their blindness is obvious to me. How immature I must appear to others who are so much more spiritually mature than I am. How foolish I must appear when I am so full of my certainties. There is something wise about the state of perpetual hunger. One is always hungering for God's presence and manifestation, right here, right now.

"Woe to you who are laughing now." There is so much to mourn and weep for. I avert my eyes from so much suffering. I distract myself with entertainments of many kinds. The prophet William Stringfellow was particularly scathing toward those, like me, who love and follow sports. He called it America's obscene idol, our holy cow, distracting us from the weightier demands of justice in our common life.

"Woe to you when all speak well of you," reminds me how timid I can be for the sake of not offending. I like to be accepted. I want my church to be rich and healthy. So I often tiptoe around the prophetic message. It was the false prophets who said the things people want to hear.

Over and over Jesus presents the values and choices of the Kingdom of God. All too often they are not my values, for I am attached to my comforts and my privilege. This is vanity.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012 -- Week of Proper 22, Year 2
Wilfred Thomason Grenfell, Medical Missionary, 1940

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms [120], 121, 122, 123 (morning) // 123, 125, 126, [127] (evening)
Micah 1:1-9
Acts 23:12-25
Luke 7:1-17

Reading today's scriptures is like hearing a commentary on our contemporary politics and economics.

Psalm 123 says, "Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy, for we have had more than enough of contempt, Too much of the scorn of the indolent rich, and the derision of the proud."

Micah prophecies against the wealthy, ruling aristocrats in Samaria and Jerusalem. Their corruption is bringing ruin. Micah accuses the wealthy elites and the authorities of misleading the people. He accuses them of economic injustice. He says that God will judge their actions and bring disaster -- the utter destruction of Samaria and a threat against Jerusalem.

Much of the complaint of the great Hebrew prophets was directed at the abuse of power by the wealthy and the politically connected. The prophets accused the powerful of using their power to expand their own economic interests, often at the expense of the poor peasants and small landowners. There was lying, arrogance and corruption in the high places, including the seat of government. God detests such behavior, says Micah and the other prophets. Such behavior brings God's judgment.

This stuff reads like today's headlines. When you read the 8th century prophets it is like reading a contemporary newspaper or watching TV news -- just substitute Washington and Wall Street for Samaria and Jerusalem. The 8th century BCE was a time when Israel was wealthy and politically powerful. It was also a time of increasing economic contrasts and growing income inequality. The elites were concentrating wealth and power, a circumstance guaranteed to draw the ire of the prophetic tradition.

What does Micah want? What do the prophets say God wants? There are three prophetic words that Micah uses to summarize the prophetic demand:

Mishpat is "justice". Justice is fairness and equality that the prophets proclaimed should characterize all social and economic relationships.

Hesed is usually translated "steadfast love" or "kindness" or "mercy." It has a strong element of loyalty and integrity. Hesed describes how we are to fulfill our social responsibilities toward our neighbors, with loyal and kind integrity.

Hatsnea lekhet is to "walk humbly". It is the way of life that is the opposite of the arrogant abuse of power so characteristic of the wealthy and powerful. Walking humbly prevents corruption, injustice and exploitation.

These three words are major Biblical themes. You can find this same message throughout the scriptures. These words describe the political agenda of the Bible -- mishpat, hesed, and hatsnea lekhet: Economic and social fairness and equality; fulfilling social obligations with loyal kindness; walking humbly.

The next time you read, hear, or watch the news, ask yourself, "What would the prophets say to this?"

Wednesday, October 10, 2012 -- Week of Proper 22, Year 2
Vida Dutton Scudder, Educator and Witness for Peace, 1954

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 119:145-176 (morning) // 128, 129, 130 (evening)
Micah 2:1-13
Acts 23:23-35
Luke 7:18-35

Faultfinding

I remember the old priest who led my Clinical Pastoral Education training (CPE). One day someone in the class mentioned that another person was a "perfectionist." The priest stopped him right there and said, "There's no such thing as a perfectionist! Call them what they are. Faultfinders!"

In today's gospel we hear of how easy it is to find fault with God's messengers -- two different messengers.

John the Baptist came speaking in the tradition of the classic prophets of Israel. He announced judgment upon the people and its leaders. He withdrew from the great centers of culture and religion and lived in an aggressively non-conformist way. He was humorless, serious, hard-bitten and confrontive. To resort to cliche -- he was "in your face" and he "took no prisoners." Like so many prophets before and since, his word was too hard for the ears.

Jesus came announcing the Kingdom of God with prophetic energy, but in a very different style. He was a healer whose greatest characteristic was compassion. He reached out beyond the social and religious boundaries to eat and drink with sinners and the unclean. He opened forgiveness to all, including foreigners. He was funny, outgoing, and gentle. He called for an ethic of love and described a God of paternal intimacy.

Jesus' word was also too hard for the ears. He didn't live up to the expectations for the Messiah. The Messiah was supposed to be a great military leader and throw off Roman oppression. The Messiah was supposed to be righteous, and this man violated the sabbath and consorted with the impure rabble. The Messiah was supposed to be a holy man but this man eats and drinks with sinners. The Messiah was not supposed to be from Galilee. Look it up!, said the Biblical fundamentalists.

The faultfinders found fault in both of them, John and Jesus. Faultfinders always do. No one can live up to the expectations of a faultfinder. Not even Jesus.

I've known people who would write off another person because of one offense. I've known people who would leave a church over one thing that bothered or angered them. I've known people who have such a finely honed critical faculty, that everything is poisoned by their unreasonable expectations. "We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not weep."

What if we nurtured a gentle acceptance for the way people are? Most everybody is doing pretty close to the best they can. There are times when we can dance and times when we can weep. There are times to correct others and times to accept their faults. There are times to receive criticism humbly and times to accept our limitations and failures. If Jesus said he did not come to judge us, who are we to judge?

Friday, October 12, 2012 -- Week of Proper 22, Year 2

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 985)
Psalms 140, 142 (morning) // 134, 135 (evening)
Micah 3:9 - 4:5
Acts 24:24 - 25:12
Luke 8:1-15

We have two of the most powerful moments of prophecy in today's reading from Micah. They probably come from different centuries and different voices, but they are preserved together, not unlike the collection of the prophet Isaiah. In classic form, Micah afflicts the comfortable and comforts the afflicted.

The first oracle (3:9-12) comes from the eighth century prophet Micah, who pronounces God's judgment upon the leaders of the nation, "who abhor justice and pervert all equity." He speaks in a voice not unlike his contemporary Amos. Micah's complaint is toward the powerful and wealthy, the elite who have structured the economy to favor the rich while the interests of the poor are ignored. The gap between rich and poor widens. Dishonesty abounds. It's all about money. Money talks. Money is power. Money corrupts. "Its rulers give judgment for a bribe, its priests teach for a price, its prophets give oracles for money." It is a religious age. The Temple and the places of worship are well supplied and its leaders give great lip service to God. "They lean upon the Lord and say, 'Surely the Lord is with us! Nor harm shall come to us.'" Many commentators have said that the circumstances of eighth century Israel and today have some remarkable similarities.

Then Micah pulls the trigger. "Therefore because of you Zion shall be plowed as a field; Jerusalem shall become a heap of ruins, and the mountain of the house a wooded height." Micah announces the fall of Jerusalem.

But it didn't happen. Not that century at least. Micah's contemporary Isaiah made similar complaints about the nation's injustice, but believed that Jerusalem would not fall. Isaiah was right, for the time being. Sennacherib of Assyria captured many of the fortified cities of Judah. But prior to overcoming Jerusalem, Sennacherib left the siege, apparently to handle another threat elsewhere. Jerusalem was spared, but the annual tribute that Sennacherib demanded impoverished the city and nation.

Nearly a hundred years later, during another time of threat, the prophet Jeremiah also announced God's judgment upon the nation. He prophesied the fall of Jerusalem. Jeremiah was arrested on a charge of treason and faced a death sentence. His appeal, his primary defense was the word of the prophet Micah. Micah had also prophesied Jerusalem's fall, and he was not executed. His word was preserved as a prophet. Micah's word saved Jeremiah. And Jerusalem fell, just like Micah and Jeremiah had said.

We move to Micah 4. These are words to exiles following the fall. In a passage that is also preserved in Isaiah, we read of a vision of the glorification of Jerusalem. No more will the capital city be a source of injustice and greed, but "out of Zion shall go forth instruction." Wisdom and peace will dwell in the city. "They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more; but they shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid." That is a beautiful vision.

So many have been inspired by the visions of Micah. When these two prophecies are combined, we have a witness that confronts the powerful and wealthy for their injustice, complacency and greed; and we have a witness that holds up an alternative vision of wisdom and peace.

The prophets call us to reject power and control driven by money and inequality. They call us to to embrace peace guided by wisdom. The book of Micah preserves both words. It speaks with ringing authority today.

Monday, October 15, 2012 -- Week of Proper 23, Year 2
Teresa of Avila, Nun, 1582

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 989)
Psalm 1, 2,3 (morning) // 4, 7 (evening)
Micah 7:1-7
Acts 26:1-23
Luke 8:26-39

From Teresa of Avila by Shirley du Boulay:

They say in Spain that to understand Saint Teresa one must look at Castile. Its windswept plains, its granite boulders, its bitter winters and sun-scorched summers were the womb that nourished the 'undaunted daughter of desires' of Richard Crashaw's poem. A gentler landscape would not have produced a woman of such courage and determination...

Though Teresa was, for the most part, able to appear calm, even cheerful, beneath the surface she lived in torment. Her writings show clearly that her inner life was deeply troubled and difficult. In fact she describes the first twenty years at the Convent of the Incarnation as a time when she constantly failed God and was buffeted on 'that stormy sea, often falling in this way, each time rising again, but to little purpose, as I would only fall once more.'

She was generous and scrupulously honest in her writing, and it is this first-hand knowledge of her inner life, particularly during this period, which enables us to identify with her as a fellow human being and as a woman. She experienced spiritual apathy, aridity in prayer and a sense of failure common to so many. Had we only known her as the recipient of extraordinary experiences, as a mystic as gifted in prayer as was Rembrandt in art, Beethoven in music or Shakespeare in literature, we would not be able to identify with her so closely, nor would she have touched so many lives.... The conflict which obsessed her for twenty years was that she was torn between God and the world.

Anyone who has ever tried to pray will have experienced difficulties; yet there tends to be an unspoken assumption that for saints and mystics prayer is easy. The open and totally honest way in which Teresa admits to her own problems in prayer is one of her most valuable legacies; that she, too, found prayer difficult is not only endearing but also immensely reassuring. She writes of her trials:

Over a period of several years, I was more occupied in wishing my hour of prayer were over, and in listening whenever the clock struck, than in thinking of things that were good. Again and again I would rather have done any severe penance that might have been given me than practice recollection as a preliminary to prayer. Whenever I entered the oratory I used to feel so depressed that I had to summon up all my courage to make myself pray at all.

She felt imprisoned and alone, unable to believe her confessors, who treated so lightly the shortcomings in her prayer life which she knew, in her heart, were a failure in her obligation to God. But one of the ways in which she is set apart from most people is in the courage and determination with which she persevered; she battled and fought against her problems in prayer as fiercely as any soldier fights his enemy. Through her twenties and thirties she endured boredom, aridity, frustration, disappointment and an acute sense of failure. This period, too often glossed over, was the soil from which the flower of her mysticism was to grow. It should never be forgotten that it lasted from her novitiate until she was about forty years old. (about twenty years)

Shirley de Boulay, Teresa of Avila, London, 1991, pp. 1, 29-35 (abridged), quoted by Robert Atwell in Celebrating the Saints, Canterbury Press, Norwich, 1998, p. 609-10.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012 -- Week of Proper 23, Year 2
Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley, Bishops and Martyrs, 1555

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 989)
Psalm 5, 6 (morning) // 10, 11 (evening)
Jonah 1:1-17a
Acts 26:24 - 27:8
Luke 8:40-56

"Do not fear. Only believe." (Luke 8:50b)

In all of our readings today there is some traveling. Weaving in and out of the stories is an invitation to traveling trust.

First Jonah shows us what not to do. He's called to a task he doesn't want to undertake. So he runs away. Eventually, by God, he'll get to where he is called. But it's the roundabout and difficult route.

Paul's life is as adventurous and uncontrollable as Jonah's. Only there is a sense that Paul has surrendered trustingly and embraced his journey. He's in custody. He has been for some while. Sincere people set on protecting their religious traditions from the radical changes that Paul is teaching have conspired against him. Earlier, to avoid the possibility that he would be assassinated, he exercised his right as a Roman citizen to appeal to the emperor. The irony now is that had his not done so, and lived to get his day in court before King Agrippa, he would have been freed. Now a Roman Centurion named Julius is escorting Paul to Rome for his appeal. Though the guard is a permissive one, Paul is still a prisoner.

Through all of this intrigue, we sense in Paul a centeredness of trust. He will make his defense vigorously, but it's as if he's also watching all of this as a disinterested observer. It's like it doesn't matter much to him whether he's free or in custody, whether he's released to go where he will or is sent to Rome under guard. He senses that underneath whatever happens is the purpose of Christ. Paul embraces the notion that his only work is to be a faithful witness. Everything else is in God's hands. He trusts God to guide him wherever he should be.

We see that same confident presence in Jesus as he returns, presumably to Capernaum. A leader of the synagogue runs to him in desperation. My child is dying. Help. What could take precedent over such urgency? But on the way, there is an interruption. A woman touches the fringe of Jesus' clothes. He feels power go from him. "Who touched me?" The emergency ambulance stops. Jesus confronts the woman. She has suffered chronically for twelve years. She had exhausted all medical hope. Touching Jesus has made her well. He pardons her intrusion. Wonderful. Go in peace.

But now it appears it is too late for the child. Maybe it was the interruption that robbed them of their chance, but the child is dead. "Do not fear. Only believe." Jesus continues to move within the agenda of God, and the child is restored.

There is a way of accepting the circumstances of the day and walking with total trust that God will present whatever God will present. Do not fear. (Do not try to control.) Only believe.

Jonah futility tried to bend his life into his own designs. Paul didn't worry whether he was free or bound. Jesus lived present to the Spirit through crisis and interruption.

The picture is pretty compelling. There is a flow. We can go with it or we can struggle against it. God is drawing us into the places where God can use us. That works most efficiently when we quit struggling and let it come to us. Even if we think, like Paul, we could have been freed if we had played our cards differently. Even if, like Paul in tomorrow's story, we face a few shipwrecks along the way. Even if, like Jesus, we're interrupted during something that feels life-or-death. Do not fear. Only believe.

Friday, October 26, 2012 -- Week of Proper 24, Year 2
Alfred the Great, King of the West Saxons, 899

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 989)
Psalm 31 (morning) // 35 (evening)
Ecclesiasticus 11:2-20 (found in the Apocrypha; also called Sirach)
Revelation 9:13-21
Luke 10:38-42

For most weekdays during the past eleven years I've been writing a few thoughts about the readings for Morning Prayer. My Journal software allows me some options to search for content from previous reflections. Today when I read one particular phrase from Ecclesiasticus, it jumped out at me enough for me to search to see if I had quoted it and commented on it previously: "My child, do not busy yourself with many matters; if you multiply activites, you will not be held blameless." (11:10) I searched that phrase in my Journal. I got some hits. In fact, every time this verse has come up in the lectionary, every other year since 2004, I have written to myself about it. That's because being over-busy, over-committed is an abiding sin of mine.

In 2004, I reminded myself of a photo in my yearbook from junior high. It's one of those candid shots that populate student annuals. I'm leaving school for the day, and I'm leaning over to counterbalance about a dozen books that I'm carrying home under one arm as I walk away from the school exit. My wrist barely reaches under my notebook, and the books stretch up to just under my armpit. There's room for maybe a tiny paperback to wedge in there. It's in the school annual because it's funny. It's also the image I projected.

In 2006, I cited the T-shirt "The One Who Dies With the Largest Checklist, Wins." I wished I could be more like Mary -- choosing the better part -- just being with Jesus, instead of distracted by the doing of many things.

In 2008, I quoted from a chapter titled "The Unhurried Life" in a book I was reading then. It tells of a man asking advice from a wise friend. "What do I need to do to be healthy?" The answer: "You must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life." "Okay, that's a good one," he wrote it down. "Now, what else?" Long pause. Nothing else. "You must ruthlessly eliminate hurry from your life."

In 2010, I challenged my habit of always wanting to say "yes" to every good possibility that presents itself. If it seems like a good thing, I say to myself, why shouldn't I do it? It's a better question to ask, In a world with so many gifted people called to carry out their ministries, why should I be the one to do this next opportunity? Is it really my calling?

Twice previously in my Journal I've reminded myself of the the discipline of hedging. The image comes from Biblical agriculture. Farmers are told not to harvest border to border, but to leave a margin between their work and the ends of their fields. Two reasons: (1) As a protection against accidentally crossing over into a neighbor's property and trespassing upon his harvest. (2) To leave the gleanings for the needy. The poor had the right to follow behind the harvesters to pick up whatever may fall to the ground or be overlooked. And they had the right to the full produce on the edges of the fields, the harvest of the margins.

My field is time. If I fill every minute of the day with responsibilities and obligations, there are no margins. I am likely to trespass on another's time -- it is so easy to get behind or, as I did a couple of days ago, forget an appointment. And there is nothing left for the needs of the moment. I've left nothing for the needy, including myself.

The one encouraging thing that shows up in nearly all of these entries about my habitual disease of busy-ness is the helpful medicine of Centering Prayer. That practice has been the counterweight that can keep me from spinning into chaos. From the place of still silence I can sometimes move into a full life with intention rather than compulsion.

So, as I write my bi-annual entry from eight years of engagement with Ben Sira's words, "My child, do not busy yourself with many matters," I find myself doing what I've been doing since at least 2004. I'll conclude this little bit of writing (another activity checked off today's "To Do List"), and then I will stop in order to practice Centering Prayer. That's good. I'll be better in about twenty minutes.

Monday, October 29, 2012 -- Week of Proper 25, Year 2
James Hannington and his Companions, Bishop of Eastern Equatorial Africa, Martyrs, 1885

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 991)
Psalms 41, 52 (morning) 44 (evening)
Ecclesiasticus 19:4-17 found in the Apocrypha; also calledSirach
Revelation 11:1-14
Luke 11:14-26

There is an inner reality that is safe, at peace, and always one with God, regardless of the outer circumstances.

When speaking of our personal lives, we describe this as our inner union with God, which is our true self, the person God has created us to be. At the core of our being, we are always and have always been one with God -- that is our true self. Because we experience ourselves as being threatened, we become fearful and reactive. We create an adaptive self, a false self. The false self is attached to our exaggerated needs for security, affection/esteem, and power/control. Most of us get pretty dysfunctional trying to secure on our own terms what God gives us at our deepest being -- perfect security, unqualified love, divine power.

John writes of this symbolic territory in his Revelation. He is speaking to a community rather than to an individual. At the core of the community, the church, there is the temple and the altar -- the union between God and God's people. At that center, we are always one with God and the heavenly hosts who worship and praise God continually. The core is always connected and secure. Though the outer realities of political, social and economic well-being may be attacked, crumbling and chaotic, the center holds forever. The reign of evil and destruction -- the reign of empire -- is merely temporary, it is passing away.

Our call is to stand as witnesses during the passing period. John gives us a symbolic picture of that, using numbers. The period of evil is always incomplete and broken -- forty-two months = 1,260 days = three and one-half years = half of seven. Seven is the symbol of perfection -- the sum of three [the spiritual order] and four [the created order]. So half of seven, the period of evil, is incomplete and broken. Six is one less than seven -- imperfection, incompleteness. The symbolic numbers associated with evil and empire are always incomplete, imperfect and broken.

John gives us the image of two witnesses, who like Jesus (and like the community) are both conquered and victorious. We are God's witnesses. We are a community of priests and kings, two olive trees. As part of our memory and heritage, we know the two great prophet-witnesses Moses (who commanded the plagues) and Elijah (who shut up the sky). We join their struggle against the empire.

We are in conflict with the values of the empire -- the lure of wealth and luxury and greed, the abuse of power and its inevitable violence. But our weapons are always the weapons of the Word. Our weapon, John says, is the "testimony." (In Greek the word "witness/testimony" is "martus" -- the same root as "martyr.")

So we live in the conflict between empire and community. The witnesses may appear to be defeated, but their apparent defeat is only temporary. God always intervenes on behalf of truth. Resurrection happens. "The breath of life from God" reanimates; the Spirit breathes new life.

John is setting the scene for the announcement of God's reign. God reigns now. The internal victory is ever present. Yet in the conflict of our world, the victory is anticipatory, partial, and surely coming. We are victorious now, at one with God; we are struggling now, giving witness to the evil of this passing oppression. Like Jesus the Lamb, we are both conquered and victorious.

John is describing every person, every community, every age. Here is the key to this part of his message: The experience of being conquered or assaulted by evil is always temporary and passing. The triumph of the Lamb is eternal and eternally present. Hold fast. Do not fear. The empire always crumbles and decays. True community, grounded in divine love, eternally triumphs. Embrace the triumphant vision and live by its light. Be compassion, love and justice in a world of greed, pride and injustice. The center holds forever.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012 -- Week of Proper 25, Year 2
John Wyclif, Priest and Prophetic Witness, 1384

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 991)
Psalms 45 (morning) 47, 48 (evening)
Ecclesiasticus 24:1-12 (found in the Apocrypha; also called Sirach)
Revelation 11:14-19
Luke 11:27-36

Most of the time we see what we expect to see.

The goal of the spiritual journey is to be in constant conscious awareness and union with God. If you expect to see God, you probably will.

Today Luke's gospel tells us, "Your eye is the lamp of your body. If your eye is healthy, your whole body is full of light; but if it is not healthy, your body is full of darkness."

This time of year it is easy for the eye to be grasped by the beauty of the colors. The landscape seems to shout "Look!" And in that moment when the leaves or the panorama catches our attention, we are filled with gratefulness and joy. It only takes a second. But that second is a clue to the possibility of a constant state of awareness.

It only takes a little turn of the attention to become aware of the leaves. It only takes a little turn of the attention to be aware of the light that surrounds each moment. To be awake is to be looking constantly for the Presence. It is an open and grateful heart that is constantly aware of the wonder of the moment.

But so much of our consciousness is preoccupied by other things -- worries and anxieties, the next task, resentments and frustrations. We literally are pre-occupied. Our mind and heart is already occupied by worrisome stuff and so there is no openness for the presence of wonder. When we are preoccupied with anxious matters, we are blind to everything but our anxieties. During ordinary times -- ordinary weather -- we become blinded by our ordinary anxieties. During extraordinary times -- as many in the northeast are experiencing an apocalyptic storm today -- we can become blinded by our extraordinary anxieties.

Jesus has a lot to say to the crowds who ask for a sign but fail to see him for who he is. They wanted to be entertained, but not changed. So they were blind to what was present before their very eyes. Have you ever thought how lucky it must have been for those people in Capernaum? Have you ever thought, "I wish I would have been alive then to see Jesus in person during his earthly life"? Well, we probably would have been as asleep and unaware as the people he talks to in today's story from Capernaum.

Wonder is all around us. Joy is in the air. God is no more present and real somewhere else or at some other time than God is present and real right here, right now. If God is to be present and real for me, that will have to happen right here, right now.

All it takes to be conscious is a little turn of the attention, just a touch of discipline and awareness.

It's like intending to notice the leaves. Just as you go outside, you remind yourself it is fall. Look around. Just as you enter the next moment, you remind yourself, God is present. Everything is amazing. Look around. Wake up.

Whatever you expect to see is probably what you will see.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012 -- Week of Proper 25, Year 2
Paul Shinji Sasaki and Philip Lindel Tsen,
Bishop of Mid-Japan, and of Tokyo, 1946; Bishop of Honan, China, 1954

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 991)
Psalms 119:49-72 (morning) 49, [53] (evening)
Ecclesiasticus 28:14-26 (found in the Apocrypha; also called Sirach)
Revelation 12:1-6
Luke 11:37-52

"But woe to you Pharisees! For you tithe mint and rue and herbs of all kinds, and neglect justice and the love of God; it is these you ought to have practiced, without neglecting the others." (Luke 11:42)

Because the Pharisees became the visible opponent of the early Church, we have inherited a lot of words against them in our New Testament. We seem to think of them as those "others." We think of them as different from the Christians, hostile toward us. We may even think of them as professional hypocrites, since that's the description that accompanies so many New Testament references.

But many of those who were attracted to Jesus and became his followers were Pharisees, such as Paul, the singularly most important figure of the early church.

In so many ways, the Pharisees are the kind of people that serious Christians strive to be.

First, the Pharisees took the practice of their faith seriously. They sought to put into practice everything that had been revealed in scripture. They sought to observe the Biblical law in its entirety. They were serious about obeying God and living religiously observant lives.

Second, the Pharisees had a teaching mission to make the practice of the faith accessible to all people. Many peasants believed that it was impossible for them to follow the Torah because of their poverty, they lived in close proximity to defiling and unclean things. The Pharisees inspired and taught peasants to observe the law despite their environment, and showed them ways to be faithful in contexts where they believed themselves to be outside the circle of blessing.

These are good things -- being faithful to God's laws and helping others live more faithfully. How many exemplary Christians strive to live just so. We all know conscientious Christians who live lives of faithful observance; we all know people who try to help others live according to the wisdom and teaching of our faith.

But Jesus has some major issues with the Pharisees, including Christian Pharisees of our own day. It doesn't matter how disciplined, pious and observant you may be or how conscientiously you may teach others in the way, if you practice your faith "and neglect justice and the love of God," you have missed the mark.

It's important to unpack that word "justice." Justice is the social form of love. In the Bible, justice most often means "economic justice" and "political justice." Some theologies tend to speak of God's justice as God's punishment of our sins, and it's opposite as God's mercy. More often, the opposite of God's justice is human injustice.

Jesus proclaimed the Kingdom of God -- how earth would be if God reigned. God's reign of justice is contrasted with the realities of human systems of political oppression favoring the wealthy and powerful. God's reign of justice is contrasted with economic exploitation that concentrates wealth among the few and abides poverty, subsistence living, malnourishment, disease and vulnerability.

Woe to you Pharisees! For you neglect justice and the love of God!

A religious practice that emphasizes good behavior and morality, faithfulness in prayer, tithing and other religious practices, and outward witness to God's word is not enough. We are Pharisees if we participate in systems that allow the wealthy and powerful to concentrate wealth and power; systems that allow poverty and suffering; systems that let children go hungry without feeding them; systems that do not include universal access to medical care. Unless good Christians are actively working to promote justice -- the love of God in its social form -- we have cleaned the outside of the cup, but inside are full of greed and wickedness; we are "like unmarked graves."

Jesus speaks in the tradition of the great prophets who declared God's word on behalf of equity and economic justice for the poor -- Amos, Isaiah, Micah and others. Christians who live lives of exemplary religious observance and who neglect economic and political justice on behalf of the least of these are today's Pharisees.

One more word, and it's an important one. Love. It is too easy for serious religious observance to slip into moralism and the practice of rules. It is easy for the observant to judge and to look down on the unobservant -- we are doing right and they aren't. When that happens, love has slipped out the back door. Jesus teaches us that every law -- every belief and practice -- is subsumed under the rubric of love: Love God, and love your neighbor as yourself. Religious practice and pious observance without the gift of extravagant love toward others and toward self is anemic moralism and ritualism.

Woe to you Pharisees! For you neglect justice and the love of God!

Tuesday, November 6, 2012 -- Week of Proper 26, Year 2
William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury, 1944

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 991)
Psalms 61, 62 (morning) 68:1-20(21-23)24-36 (evening)
Ecclesiasticus 43:1-22 found in the Apocrypha; also called Sirach
Revelation 14:14 - 15:8
Luke 13:1-9

Almighty God, to whom we must account for all our powers and privileges: Guide the people of the United States in the election of officials and representatives; that, by faithful administration and wise laws, the rights of all may be protected and our nation be enabled to fulfill your purposes; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (Collect for an Election, BCP, p. 822)

It is election day. And though we do not know who will be elected President, we can be confident that tomorrow there will be no threat of a military coup. Whoever wins, the losing side will accept. We will all pray for the newly elected President and ask God's wisdom and blessing upon him. We can be thankful for an orderly and peaceful process of transfer of power. Things will hold together.

Today in our reading from Ecclesiasticus, Ben Sira praises the whole of the created universe, in which, by God's word "all things hold together." In our reading from Revelation, the Son of Man fills the earth with Eucharist, his sickle gathering the ripe grapes which are "trodden outside the city" (an allusion to the cross) where the wine of Christ's sacrifice covers the wholeness (the symbolic number 200 miles = 1,600 stadia = the whole earth). In Luke, Jesus reflects on the suffering of the innocent and says they were not punished because they "were worse offenders." Then Jesus calls all to repentance.

These themes remind me of a passage from David Steindl-Rast's book "Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer: An Approach to Life in Fullness." He writes:

Our heart's most comprehensive vision shows us that all is gift -- blessing. And, in response our heart's most spontaneous action is thanksgiving -- blessing.

But here my ...question arises. What if I cannot recognize the given as a blessing? What if it is not sunshine that pours down on us, but hailstones like hammer-blows? What if it is acid rain? Here again, the gift within the gift is opportunity. I have the opportunity, for example, to do something about that acid rain, face the facts, inform myself about the causes, go to their roots, alert others, band together with them for self-help, for protest. By taking each opportunity as it is offered, I show myself grateful. But my response will not be full unless I respond also to the ever-present opportunity to praise.

W.H. Auden has helped me see this by his poem "Precious Five," especially by its last stanza. " I could," says Auden there,

Find reasons fast enough
To face the sky and roar
In anger and despair
At what is going on,
Demanding that it name
Whoever is to blame:
The sky would only wait
Till all my breath was gone
And then reiterate
As if I wasn't there
That singular command
I do not understand
Bless what there is for being,
Which has to be obeyed, for
What else am I made for,
Agreeing or disagreeing?

To bless whatever there is, and for no other reason but simply because it is -- that is our raison d'etre; that is what we are made for as human beings. This singular command is engraved in our heart. Whether we understand this or not matters little. Whether we agree or disagree makes no difference. And in our heart of hearts we know it.

No matter how hard you strike a bell, it will ring. What else is it made for? Even under the hammer blows of fate the heart rings true. The human heart is made for universal praise. As long as we pick and choose, making praise depend on our approval, we are not yet responding from the heart. When we find our heart, we find that core of our being that is attuned to reality. And reality is praiseworthy. With clear vision the heart sees the ultimate meaning of all: blessing. And with clear intent the heart responds with the ultimate purpose of life: blessing. (p. 80-82)

Wednesday, November 7, 2012 -- Week of Proper 26, Year 2
Willibrord, Archbishop of Utrecht, Missionary to Frisia, 739

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 991)
Psalm 72 (morning) // 119:73-96 (evening)
Ecclesiasticus 43:23-33 (found in the Apocrypha; also called Sirach)
Revelation 16:1-11
Luke 13:10-17

It is a nice thing to read Psalm 72 on the morning after an election. It might be that the psalm was first composed for the coronation of a king. It speaks of the yearning for good government, described as "justice" and "righteousness." When justice and righteousness predominate, peace prevails. Justice and righteousness happen when the needy, poor and weak are empowered and protected. Psalm 72 is a fine vision for governance and a prayer for our corporate health.

The vision of the psalmist connects the nation's prosperity with its treatment of the poor. The poor are to receive justice (v. 2), which is linked to their economic prosperity:
Give the King your justice, O God, *
and your righteousness to the King's Son, *
That he may rule your people righteously
and the poor with justice;
That the mountains may bring prosperity to the people, *
and the little hills bring righteousness.
He shall defend the needy among the people; *
he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor.

The psalmist prays for the political security of the nation and its ruler. The psalm imagines abundant trade and commerce, and a high place of respect for the nation. The writer implies that the measure of respect that the ruler enjoys is related to his service to the poor and oppressed:
All rulers shall bow down before him, *
and all the nations do him service.
For he shall deliver the poor who cries out in distress *
and the oppressed who has no helper.
He shall have pity on the lowly and poor; *
he shall preserve the lives of the needy.
He shall redeem their lives from oppression and violence, *
and dear shall their blood be in his sight.
Long may he live;
and may there be given to him gold from Arabia; *
may prayer be made for him always,
and may they bless him all the day long.

The writer prays for abundant blessings from the earth, grain "growing thick even on the hilltops." He prays that prosperity and peace will be the products of a rule of righteousness and justice.

Then he closes with a doxology:
Blest are you, O God of Israel; *
you alone do wondrous deeds!
And blest is your glorious Name for ever! *
May all the earth be filled with your glory.
Amen. Amen.

O blessed God, look upon your people and fill our leaders with your wisdom and insight, that righteousness and justice may abound in our nation, bringing peace and prosperity, especially for the lowly and poor, that all nations may live in harmony and respect, within the blessedness of your abiding glory. Amen.

(note: I use The Saint Helena Psalter translation)

Friday, November 9, 2012 -- Week of Proper 26, Year 2

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office
(Book of Common Prayer, p. 991)
Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38 (morning) // 73 (evening)
Ecclesiasticus 50:1, 11-24 (found in the Apocrypha; also called Sirach)
Revelation 17:1-18
Luke 13:31-35

One of the many meanings of the very multivalent word "faith" is "faithful." To be faithful is to cast one's lot with another and to be with and for that one in a dependable, loyal and affectionate way. The opposite of this kind of faith is unfaithfulness, or adultery. Several of the prophets speak of Israel's unfaithfulness to God using this kind of language, especially Hosea, who used the metaphor of his own wife's adultery as an accusation against God's unfaithful people.

Today John uses that prophetic tradition to introduce a new character, the great whore. We learn that she is identified with "the great city that rules over the kings of the earth" -- Rome. She wears the colors of the Roman senatorial class. Like Babylon, Rome destroyed Jerusalem. We read descriptions of such destruction and violence in this chapter. It may be that the whore also represents the adultery of Jerusalem, for the beast attacks and destroys her as well. It is the kind of violence that the Empire dishes out, violence similar to the visions of destruction that are the fate of the Empire because "It is what they deserve!" as we read in chapter 16.

The beast who "was, and is not and is to come" is often interpreted to be Nero, who was renowned for his tyranny and extravagance. After his suicide the legend spread that he was not actually dead and would return to Rome. We know of at least three Nero imposters who led unsuccessful rebellions. The description "was, and is not and is to come" could also refer to the Empire and its succession of Ceasars. The satiric blasphemy of the statement shines in contrast to the vision of the triumphant Jesus as the heavenly Son of Man in chapter one, who speaks, "I am the first and the last, and the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever, and I have the keys of Death and of Hades."

The numbering of the kings -- seven kings, of whom five have fallen, one is living, and the other has not yet come; and when he comes, he must remain only a little while -- means that the number of the present emperor is always six. (The number of mark of the beast -- 666 -- can be calculated as the Greek name for Nero, Kaisar Neron, transposed into Hebrew.) Six is a number of incompletion and imperfection, contrasted with seven, the sum of three (the spiritual order) and four (the created order).

The beast and the kings "will make war on the Lamb, and the Lamb will conquer them, for he is the Lord of lords and King of kings, and those with him are called and chosen and faithful."

God's people are those who are not adulterous, but faithful. They will triumph, but not by violence. The victory is the victory of the Lamb.

We are called to be faithful lovers -- to show steadfast love and attention to our God, and not to allow ourselves to be tempted by the lures of that which would distract our love. The description of the whore is pretty cinematic. It is an apt metaphor for the lure of wealth, fame, celebrity, power, extravagance and luxury. These are the things of spiritual adultery. These are great temptations in our own empire.

Jesus said it more simply, "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Who, or what, do we treasure? There our heart is drawn. Faithfully or unfaithfully.

Friday, November 16, 2012 -- Week of Proper 27, Year 2
Margaret, Queen of Scotland, 1093

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (p. 993)
Psalms 102 (morning) 117:1-32 (evening)
Malachi 3:1-12
James 5:7-12
Luke 18:1-8

I like the invitation to use the natural rhythms of the earth's seasons as an invitation to patience, as James speaks of today. An impatient farmer is an oxymoron. Farmers plant and wait. They will remove weeds and augment with fertilizer. But ultimately they must wait for the mystery of growth. Growth happens.

It is like that, isn't it. We plant the seeds of divine life. Then we wait. When we see our weeds, we pull them up in confession. We augment the Spirit with fertilizer -- we pray, we worship, we study, we do our best, we give. And we wait. Growth happens.

Anything important takes time. Nobody ever got in physical shape with one day's exercise, no matter how seriously applied. Most of our great weaknesses have probably taken time too. Habits don't happen overnight. So, like patient farmers reclaiming poor land, we do the gentle work of building up and renewing, then planting, watching, watering, weeding and fertilizing. We accept the gifts beyond our power, -- sun and air and rain. Quietly, mysteriously below our awareness, life is springing up. Tenderly at first. Then with more confidence.

Anything that is related to health and wellness is probably something that takes time, patience and a bit of faithfulness. "Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near."

Monday, November 19, 2012 -- Week of Proper 28, Year 2
Elizabeth, Princess of Hungary, 1231

[Go to http://www.missionstclare.com/english/index.html for an online version of the Daily Office including today's scripture readings.]

Today's Readings for the Daily Office (p. 993)
Psalms 89:1-18 (morning) // 89:19-52 (evening)
Habakkuk 2:1-4, 9-20
James 2:14-26
Luke 16:19-31

Habakkuk wonders about whether God's rule of justice is really effective in a world which appears so unjust. In chapter one, Habakkuk issued two complaints toward God. The first complaint is that the national leaders are corrupt, motivated only by the accumulation of wealth and power. God answers Habakkuk's complaint saying that God will send a foreign army to depose the current leadership. Habakkuk complains a second time after the foreign army, God's chosen instrument of judgment, has invaded and conquered. They are as bad as the evil ones they replaced. Will God respond? Will God administer justice?

Habakkuk opens his words today: "I will stand at my watchpost, and ...keep watch to see what he... will answer concerning my complaint." God's answer: "There is still a vision for the appointed time... If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay."

Verse 4 seems to speak the core of the message: "Look at the proud! Their spirit is not right in them, but the righteous live by their faith." There is a translation footnote that translates "faith" as "faithfulness." The Hebrew word means "firmness, steadfastness, fidelity." The righteous live by their firm, steadfast, fidelity and faithfulness.

From that bedrock of faithfulness, Habakkuk speaks powerfully toward the proud, powerful and wealthy. "Alas for you who get evil gain for your houses... The very stones will cry out from the wall... Alas for you who build a town by bloodshed, and found a city on iniquity! ...The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. Alas for you who make your neighbors drink, pouring out your poison until they are drunk... You will be sated with contempt instead of glory... What use is an idol...? Alas for you who say to the wood 'Wake up!' ...See, it is gold and silver plated, and there is no breath in it at all. But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him!"

Habakkuk lives in a time of injustice and the misuse of power. The wealthy pursue their own gain; there is violence and arrogance abounding. Habakkuk speaks judgment to the powerful. He waits upon a firm foundation: His steadfast fidelity toward God.

The other readings invite further commentary on faithful living.

James lives with people who make a show of their belief, but their actions are lacking. "Show me your faith apart from you works, and I by my works will show you my faith... Even the demons believe -- and shudder... Just as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is also dead."

Jesus tells of a complacent man, living in comfort and luxury, oblivious to the suffering of the poor just outside his own vision. When he realizes God's judgment upon him, he cries out in agony.

These are stories and images about faith. When I was growing up, faith was mostly about belief -- "faith" was to assent to a particular content with your belief. That is not what faith is in any of these stories, or in most of the Bible. Marcus Borg likes to use four Latin words to expand our understanding of faith: assensus (belief); fiducia (trust); fidelitus (loyalty); visio (vision).

Habakkuk has a vision of trust in God that prompts his steadfast loyalty. James says that faith is a verb, acted out in deeds that are faithful to God's vision. Jesus gives a vision of what loyalty to God rather than toward one's one interests looks like. All three of these expressions of faith have practical effect -- economic and social impact.

The implication: It's not so much about what you believe, it is about your loyal, active trust in a vision that belongs to God.