Mother Teresa's faith

"The tendency in our spiritual life but also in our more general attitude toward love is that our feelings are all that is going on, and so to us the totality of love is what we feel. But to really love someone requires commitment, fidelity and vulnerability. Mother Teresa wasn't "feeling" Christ's love, and she could have shut down. But she was up at 4:30 every morning for Jesus and still writing to him, 'Your happiness is all I want.' That's a powerful example even if you are not talking in exclusively religious terms." Rev. Brian Kolodiejchuk, compiler and editor of Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light in an artilce in Time

The spiritual practice of paying attention

Do you hear Lady Wisdom calling? Can you hear Madame Insight raising her voice? She's taken her stand at First and Main, at the busiest intersection. Right in the city square where the traffic is thickest, she shouts, "You - I'm talking to all of you, everyone out here on the streets!

"God sovereignly made me - the first, the basic - before he did anything else. I was brought into being a long time ago, well before Earth got its start. I arrived on the scene before Ocean, yes, even before Springs and Rivers and Lakes. Before Mountains were sculpted and Hills took shape, I was already there, newborn; Long before God stretched out Earth's Horizons, and tended to the minute details of Soil and Weather, And set Sky firmly in place, I was there. When he mapped and gave borders to wild Ocean, built the vast vault of Heaven, and installed the fountains that fed Ocean, When he drew a boundary for Sea, posted a sign that said "no trespassing," and then staked out Earth's foundations, I was right there with him, making sure everything fit. Day after day I was there, with my joyful applause, always enjoying his company, Delighted with the world of things and creatures, happily celebrating the human family. (Proverbs 8:1-4; Proverbs 8:22-31 (The Message)

I invite you to read this passage from Proverbs as a starting point and inspiration for a spiritual practice that is much neglected in our frantic, overly-electronic, preoccupied world: paying attention to creation in order to deepen our relationship with God. Quiet time. Listening. Being observant. Being. (Not "being" on our cell phones, but just being.) Barbara Brown Taylor, in her book on spiritual practices, An Altar in the World, is helpful with this practice. She reminds us that classes, meetings, and even worship services in sanctuaries are not the only (or perhaps even primary) way we might connect with God. Taylor writes evocatively of twelve different ways that we might encounter God in our everyday lives, in the embodied lives we lead, including practices like walking on the earth (groundedness), paying attention (reverence), getting lost (wilderness), and waking up to God (vision). "Wisdom," she writes, "is not gained by knowing what is right. Wisdom is gained by practicing what is right, and noticing what happens when that practice succeeds and when it fails. Wise people do not have to be certain what they believe before they act. They are free to act, trusting that the practice itself will teach them what they need to know….Wisdom atrophies if it is not walked on a regular basis." And yet she clearly doesn't expect us to take her literally; that is, an excellent form of practice is attentive inaction: "The easiest practice of reverence I know," she writes, "is simply to sit down somewhere outside, preferably near a body of water, and pay attention for at least twenty minutes. It is not necessary to take on the whole world at first. Just take the three square feet of earth on which you are sitting, paying close attention to everything that lives within that small estate."

adapted from the website Weekly Seeds

Who is The Holy Spirit?

Jesus said to his disciples, “If you love me, you will obey my commandments. Then I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you forever –the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot accept, because it does not see him or know him. But you know him, because he resides with you and will be in you.
“I will not abandon you as orphans, I will come to you. In a little while the world will not see me any longer, but you will see me; because I live, you will live too.
“I have spoken these things while staying with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and will cause you to remember everything I said to you. John 14: 15-19, 25-26

Summer is almost here. My oldest child is home from college and my youngest is getting ready to graduate. Our summer planning is underway, and looking toward this summer, I recall summers past.

I spent every summer from the time I was born until I was 7 years old at camp. My dad was the camp director at 4-H camp on the beautiful shores of Lake Esquagama, near Biwabik, MN.
On the last day of school, we would load our green station wagon with necessities, bid goodbye to city life and all of our friends, and head north for 3 months of outdoor fun.

Our little cabin, called Elsin Lodge, sat at the end of the winding, pine tree lined driveway which was the entrance to the camp. This was our address for the summer. There was a shower in the basement, but I remember taking my Sunday night bath in the big sink.

Mosquitoes were our constant companions at night, buzzing in our ears and leaving red welts on our arms.

More than once our brown wiener dog Toby tried to wrestle a skunk under the front porch (and lost) causing a horrific odor that would last for weeks. I remember our accommodations as primitive and less than comfortable, and we were 60 miles from home.

It was during one of those summer nights at Elsin Lodge, an hour’s drive from our doctor in Duluth, that my little sister developed the croup.

I awoke to her coughing, and the sound was unlike any I have heard since. Barking is what it was, but along with the barking was wheezing, and crying, and then doors opening and slamming shut, and then I heard the shower running and running and running – for what seemed like hours.

And then it was quiet. I tiptoed out of my room to find my mom sitting in the steaming shower room, holding my baby sister who was now breathing easily and sound asleep. The steam from the hot shower had calmed her coughing and opened her airways and allowed her to breathe.

The steam that night was the Holy Spirit, the breath of life for my sister.

Who exactly is the Holy Spirit and how does she work in our lives? Think of water.

Even though there are three uniquely different states of H2O, (solid, liquid, and gas) they are still water. In the same way, these states of water can remind us of the triune nature of God.
The solid form of water (ice) reminds us of God the FATHER. Ice is hard. It is solid. In the same way, God the FATHER is our solid foundation.

The liquid form of water reminds us of God the SON. Jesus called himself the living water. Water is used for cleansing. Jesus died on the cross to cleanse us of our sin.

The gas form of water is steam. Steam reminds us of God the HOLY SPIRIT. You can’t always see steam, but you can feel the effects of it. In the same way, the HOLY SPIRIT cannot be seen, but the effects of her presence can be seen and felt in our lives as the HOLY SPIRIT works to make her will known to us and to change us.

The bible describes the many and various works of the Holy Spirit in our lives and in the world:
In the original languages of the bible, Hebrew and Greek, the word spirit is from the same root word as breath or wind (ruach, pneuma) – we might think of the Holy Spirit as the breath of God, blowing through our lives like the wind.

The bible mentions the Holy Spirit 92 times. It:
· Conceived a child in Mary
· Baptized Jesus
· Speaks for us
· Intercedes for us
· Filled Elizabeth
· Rested on Simeon
· Teaches us
· Led Jesus into the wilderness
· Revealed scripture through David
· Is received by us
· Gives us power
· Gave the people at Babel the ability to speak in other languages
· Is our advocate, our comforter
· Sends us out
· Makes us overseers of the church
· Pours love into our hearts
· Sanctifies us
· Inspires joy in us
· Resides in our bodies, making us living temples of the holy spirit

I saw the Holy Spirit at work that night so many years ago in the little shower room in Elsin Lodge, giving my mother the strength and wisdom to know what to do, giving my sister the gift of breath, giving me the courage to get out bed and lend some night time comfort.
And I have seen it many times since then.

It isn’t always visible to the naked eye, but if you listen, and pay attention, you will notice that it is breathing life into the world, blowing comfort, courage and strength through our lives.

The Holy Spirit is the active presence of God in creation.

Take some time today and think about and then tell each other about where you’ve witnessed the Holy Spirit working in your lives. I bet you’ll have some steamy stories.

What If God Was One Of Us?

Close your eyes for a minute and picture the face of Jesus.

I bet I know what he looks like to you. It’s probably the same image that comes to my mind. There are no pictures of the real face of Jesus. Legend tells us that Luke may have been an artist, and that he may have drawn a picture of Jesus but nobody has ever found anything to prove that. Even though we think we know what Jesus looked like, the truth is that we really have no idea.

And why do we even want to know?

In her song “What if God Was One of Us,” Alanis Morissette imagines, “What if God was one of us, just a slob like one of us, just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home…”

It is in the incarnation, God’s word, Jesus, who was made flesh and who lived among us, that the words to this song are true. In the person of Jesus, God was one of us.

God came to earth and for a short time, joined the human race. He was born, he was a member of a family, and he had a job. He had to eat and sleep, and pray and travel. He was scared and happy and angry. He loved his friends. He was truly human, and so we believe that he was just like us, just a slob like one of us, just a stranger on the bus…

There was just one difference – Jesus was also truly divine. At Christmas time, we hear Jesus called Emmanuel, a word which means “God with us.” Jesus was one of us, and while he was here, the people that he met were face to face with God.

So what did they see? Our image of Jesus, and the image of Jesus for each person in the world who believes in him, is the image that helps each of us to relate to and to form a connection with this part of the Holy Trinity, that is, God with us.

A few years ago, some British scientists, assisted by Israeli archeologists, used forensic anthropology to create a model of what Jesus might have really looked like. Words from Matthew’s gospel offer a clue to the fact that Jesus wasn’t a tall, light skinned, blue eyed western looking man. He looked like the rest of his disciples. We know this, because in order for the soldiers to arrest Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane before the crucifixion, Jesus had to be indentified by Judas. Jesus looked like everyone else, a typical Galilean Semite.

For me, and maybe for you, it doesn’t really matter what Jesus looked like. When we imagine Jesus sitting next to us, when we share our worries and our sorrows and our successes and our joys with him in our prayers, Jesus looks like each one of us. He was here, on this earth, for each one of us, and he died for each one of us, and because he rose from the dead, each one of us will have eternal life.

In Japan,

In Africa, or as an African American,

in the Caribbean,

At Mount Sinai,

In Turin, Italy.

God is one of us, Holy Trinity, three in one. In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Something to think and pray about this week

In the northern hemisphere, May brings the special joy of brighter sunlight and longer days. Throughout the scriptures God is spoken of as the source of light, living in inaccessible light. Jesus is the light of the world, bringing sight to the sightless. We are to walk as children of the light. Light is more than just a condition to see by. Sunlight opens the world to us, nourishes our skin and our body, shows us we are still alive. Dylan Thomas' angry poem bids his sick father, ‘Rage, rage against the dying of the light'.
Lord, I treasure your light, and the feeling of the sun on my back. May I never lose my gratitude for the sight of my eyes and the glory of sunlight. I need your light too in the dark hours, when I am baffled by the evil of the world. Be you the light of my life.

borrowed from http://sacredspace.ie/
click on the link to continue the prayer

Where is God in the storm?

I listened to the news coverage of the tornados in Mississippi this past week with an especially broken heart. Five years ago I travelled for twenty four hours in a bus with a group from Mount Olivet to lead a Camp Noah week in McComb Mississippi, about 150 miles south of Yazoo City. The participants of our camp were refugees from the Hurricane Katrina ravaged areas of New Orleans. We spent the week talking about the hurricane and the broken levees and the flood and how God cares for us through the storm.

Our group devotions for that week came from a book by Dr. Gary Harbauch called “Act of God - Active God: Recovering from Natural Disasters.” In the introduction, Gilbert B. Furst, director of Lutheran Disaster Response writes,
”Instead of seeing disasters as 'acts of God,' Harbaugh shows that when disasters occur, God in fact is active: in and through our questions, confusion and doubts; active in and through our responses and actions; active in and through people of faith.” p.ix.

It is our faith that sustains us when everything is falling apart around us. In a CBS "Early Show" interview, the faith of the decimated community shines through.

“Ashley Saxton, who was driving to her family's restaurant with her husband Rob as the tornado approached, said the storm came upon them very fast.

‘It's a miracle we're here," Ashley told ‘The Early Show’. Rob Saxton said the tornado was powerful enough to lift up their car and briefly send his wife airborne. ‘I had to snatch her.’

Sunday was sunny and breezy as Thrasher and about three dozen members the Yazoo City church stood in a circle and sang ‘Till the Storm Passes By.’ Thrasher reminded the group that the church has survived tough times before. They rebuilt after their building was destroyed by arson about 10 years ago.

‘The Lord brought us through the fire, and brought us back bigger and better,’ Thrasher said. ‘The Lord will bring us back bigger and better this time, if we stick together.’”

Harbaugh writes, “Through the eyes of faith, we see Christ present and caring for us in times of disaster, making it possible for us to ‘comprehend’ with the heart of not with the mind. The word translated in Ephesians 3 as ‘comprehend’ also means ‘perceive.’ Especially when disaster darkens our vision, we pray that God will strengthen us in the inner person and give us power to perceive the presence and care of Christ.” p. 21. “The light never shines so brightly as when it appears in utter darkness. There is no way to experience the joy of the resurrection except by way of the cross.” p. 17

Till The Storm Passes by Mosie Lister.

In the dark of the midnight have I oft hid my face while the storm howls above me and there’s no hiding place mid the crash of the thunder precious Lord hear my cry keep me safe til the storm passes by.

Chorus: Till the storm passes over till the thunder sounds no more till the clouds roll forever from the sky hold me fast let me stand in the hollow of thy hand keep me safe till the storm passes by.

When the long night has ended and the storms come no more let me stand in thy presence on that bright peaceful shore in that land where the tempest never comes Lord may I dwell with thee till the storm passes by.

Chorus: Till the storm passes over till the thunder sounds no more till the clouds roll forever from the sky hold me fast let me stand in the hollow of thy hand keep me safe till the storm passes by.

Many times Satan tells me there’s is no need to try for there is no end of sorrow there’s no hope by and by but I no thou art with me and tomorrow I’ll rise where the storms never darken the skies

Chorus: Till the storm passes over till the thunder sounds no more till the clouds roll forever from the sky hold me fast let me stand in the hollow of thy hand keep me safe till the storm passes by.

The Hound of Heaven

by Francis Thompson

I fled Him down the nights and down the days
I fled Him down the arches of the years
I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears
I hid from him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated
Adown titanic glooms of chasme d hears
From those strong feet that followed, followed after
But with unhurrying chase and unperturbe d pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat, and a Voice beat,
More instant than the feet:
All things betray thee who betrayest me.

I pleaded, outlaw--wise by many a hearted casement,
curtained red, trellised with inter-twining charities,
For though I knew His love who followe d,
Yet was I sore adread, lest having Him,
I should have nought beside.
But if one little casement parted wide,
The gust of his approach would clash it to.
Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
Across the margent of the world I fled,
And troubled the gold gateways of the stars,
Smiting for shelter on their clange d bars,
Fretted to dulcet jars and silvern chatter
The pale ports of the moon.

I said to Dawn --- be sudden, to Eve --- be soon,
With thy young skiey blossoms heap me over
From this tremendous Lover.
Float thy vague veil about me lest He see.
I tempted all His servitors but to find
My own betrayal in their constancy,
In faith to Him, their fickleness to me,
Their traitorous trueness and their loyal deceit.

To all swift things for swiftness did I sue,
Clung to the whistling mane of every wind,
But whether they swept, smoothly fleet,
The long savannahs of the blue,
Or whether, thunder-driven,
They clanged His chariot thwart a heaven,
Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn of their feet,
Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
Still with unhurrying chase and unperturbed pace
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
Came on the following feet, and a Voice above their beat:
Nought shelters thee who wilt not shelter Me.

I sought no more that after which I strayed
In face of Man or Maid.
But still within the little childrens' eyes
Seems something, something that replies,
They at least are for me, surely for me.
But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair,
With dawning answers there,
Their angel plucked them from me by the hair.
Come then, ye other children, Nature's
Share with me, said I, your delicate fellowship.
Let me greet you lip to lip,
Let me twine with you caresses,
Wantoning with our Lady Mother's vagrant tresses,
Banqueting with her in her wind walled palace,
Underneath her azured dai:s,
Quaffing, as your taintless way is,
From a chalice, lucent weeping out of the dayspring.

So it was done.
I in their delicate fellowship was one.
Drew the bolt of Nature's secrecies,
I knew all the swift importings on the wilful face of skies,
I knew how the clouds arise,
Spume d of the wild sea-snortings.
All that's born or dies,
Rose and drooped with,
Made them shapers of mine own moods, or wailful, or Divine.
With them joyed and was bereaven.
I was heavy with the Even,
when she lit her glimmering tapers round the day's dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning's eyes.
I triumphed and I saddened with all weather,
Heaven and I wept together,
and its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine.
Against the red throb of its sunset heart,
I laid my own to beat
And share commingling heat.

But not by that, by that was eased my human smart.
In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's grey cheek.
For ah! we know what each other says,
these things and I; In sound I speak,
Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences.
Nature, poor step-dame, cannot slake my drouth.
Let her, if she would owe me
Drop yon blue-bosomed veil of sky
And show me the breasts o' her tenderness.
Never did any milk of hers once bless my thirsting mouth.
Nigh and nigh draws the chase, with unperturbe d pace
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
And past those noise d feet, a Voice comes yet more fleet:
Lo, nought contentst thee who content'st nought Me.

Naked, I wait thy Love's uplifted stroke. My harness, piece by piece,
thou'st hewn from me
And smitten me to my knee,
I am defenceless, utterly.
I slept methinks, and awoke.
And slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep.
In the rash lustihead of my young powers,
I shook the pillaring hours,
and pulled my life upon me.
Grimed with smears,
I stand amidst the dust o' the mounded years--
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke,
Have puffed and burst like sunstarts on a stream.
Yeah, faileth now even dream the dreamer
and the lute, the lutanist.

Even the linked fantasies in whose blossomy twist,
I swung the Earth, a trinket at my wrist,
Have yielded, cords of all too weak account,
For Earth, with heavy grief so overplussed.
Ah! is thy Love indeed a weed,
albeit an Amaranthine weed,
Suffering no flowers except its own to mount?
Ah! must, Designer Infinite,
Ah! must thou char the wood 'ere thou canst limn with it ?
My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust.
And now my heart is as a broken fount,
Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever
From the dank thoughts that shiver upon the sighful branches of my
mind.

Such is. What is to be ?
The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind ?
I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds,
Yet ever and anon, a trumpet sounds
From the hid battlements of Eternity.
Those shaken mists a space unsettle,
Then round the half-glimpse d turrets, slowly wash again.
But not 'ere Him who summoneth
I first have seen, enwound
With glooming robes purpureal; Cypress crowned.
His name I know, and what his trumpet saith.
Whether Man's Heart or Life it be that yield thee harvest,
Must thy harvest fields be dunged with rotten death ?

Now of that long pursuit,
Comes at hand the bruit.
That Voice is round me like a bursting Sea:
And is thy Earth so marred,
Shattered in shard on shard?
Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest me.
Strange, piteous, futile thing;
Wherefore should any set thee love apart?
Seeing none but I makes much of Naught (He said).
And human love needs human meriting ---
How hast thou merited,
Of all Man's clotted clay, the dingiest clot.
Alack! Thou knowest not
How little worthy of any love thou art.
Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,
Save me, save only me?
All which I took from thee, I did'st but take,
Not for thy harms,
But just that thou might'st seek it in my arms.

All which thy childs mistake fancies as lost,
I have stored for thee at Home.
Rise, clasp my hand, and come.
Halts by me that Footfall.
Is my gloom, after all,
Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?
Ah, Fondest, Blindest, Weakest,
I am He whom thou seekest.
Thou dravest Love from thee who dravest Me.

What do you know?

Now every year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day’s journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. (Luke 2: 41-47)

I am the parent of two grown children. My son just turned 20, and this year, my daughter will graduate from high school. As we look back on our parenting years, we hope that we did a good enough job raising these young people to be responsible, productive adults. There are so many things they need to know as they venture out into the world, and there are so many times when we’ve felt unprepared or simply unable to teach them about everything that will come their way. I hope as their parents, we recognized, as we tried to guide them through childhood, that our children have their own wisdom, their own way of looking at things that may be different from the way we see things, maybe even that they have something to teach us!

This week, an article called “Learning from Children,” in the May 2010 issue of Lutheran Woman Today, affirmed my hopes. According to the author, Herbert Anderson, “The story of Jesus in the temple reminds us that we cannot know the fullness of being human without listening to children and understanding what they see.” Anderson suggests that when our primary, our only focus as parents is teaching, nurturing and protecting our children, we miss the opportunity to learn from them. They have stuff to teach us!

Anderson observes, “The biblical story parallels the human story of childhood, adulthood, and parental care of children. Because of Jesus, childness is not foreign to God. The picture of Jesus welcoming children is a radically new and more inclusive vision of the human community. Adults are invited to learn from children about being human and about being a disciple of Jesus.”

I invite you, with the children who are around you, to be intentional about how you listen to them. You might be amazed!

Hungry?

This year, for the first time, I practiced the discipline of a Lenten fast. Starting on Ash Wednesday, and ending on Good Friday with a salty, doughy cross shaped pretzel, a product of Trinity’s Good Friday cross crafts, I gave up eating bread and pasta. These foods were staples of my diet, not only because of their convenience, but because they’re yummy. I have an Italian recipe book called “The Top 100 Pasta Sauces.” My family enjoys dinner from that book at least once a week.

I thought my Lenten fast would be difficult to maintain. I thought that I would never be satisfied following a meal minus the carbs.

In an article called “A Christian Diet,” (From The Christian Century, April 6, 2010, p. 35) David Grumett recalls a sermon by John Wesley. “Wesley lists various grounds for fasting: a natural sense of affliction, sorrow or penitence, the limitation of sensual appetites, self chastisement and the aiding of prayer. He does not present these grounds as necessary reasons to fast, but as reasons why Christians choose to fast.”

My fast surprised me in a few different ways. I was indeed more mindful of what I ate at every meal. I ate less food in general, not really missing the bread with dinner, skipping the pasta that came with an order of scallops at a restaurant. I was indeed satisfied after a meal that filled me up just so I was not hungry. I never once during Lent had a stomachache after eating more than I should have.

What I was missing was the connection. I wish I would have read Grumett’s article before Ash Wednesday. I think I would have been more mindful of why I was doing what I was doing. The discipline part of it did not really connect with the faith part of it for me, at least this time. Grumett writes, “By fasting during Advent and Lent, one experiences an absence that enables one to long physically for Christ’s incarnation and resurrection… The key point is to use our food practices for the good of our community and to develop our connection with God.” (p. 36)

I think I am going to continue with my discipline of fasting. I have resolved to be more aware of what and of how much I am eating, where it comes from and who has prepared it. I will continue to read ingredient labels to avoid high fructose corn syrup. And the fresh fruits and vegetables that have become staples will continue as staples – I am looking forward to summer’s abundance of local produce!

Grumett writes, “We may use food as a means of reconnecting to our spiritual heritage and traditions and marking the Christian calendar and the seasonal calendar – which itself is God-given.” (p. 37)

I pray that my continued discipline and mindfulness of the faith-food connection will help me to “[recognize] the link between food and spirituality, and [subject] eating to the scrutiny of Christian conscience and tradition.” (p. 37) I challenge you to be mindful, too.

Turn! Turn! Turn!

This weekend I read a passage from the book of Ecclesiastes at a funeral. It’s a familiar passage. Most of you can probably sing it in the song made popular by the Byrds. But even the well-known words of Ecclesiastes 3 are the living Word of God, so I wasn’t surprised when someone asked me after the funeral, about some of the “times” that the teacher Ecclesiastes writes about – a time to kill, a time to hate - words of God he found troubling.

In a message on Chicago Sunday Evening Club, Sr, Joan Chittister makes some thoughtful comments on the third chapter of Ecclesiastes. She writes, “The purpose of time is to alert us to ourselves so that we can become… with its affirmation of all the dimensions of life, the only thing it’s really worth our time to be: a total human, a deeply spiritual being.

That's the call of Ecclesiastes. It's an awesome thought. If God is in this particular life struggle, and this life struggle, this painful separation, this shocking loss, this deep deep pain, this change of status, of life, of love, has something to do with the development of the God-life in me, then it is to be dealt with reverently and lived through trustingly. Then raging will cease. Then the despair will dissolve. Then the bitterness can ebb. It is not Ecclesiastes implies that God is in this awful thing treating us like mice in cages and tweaking our tails with glee. No, it is that we are living in God, no matter what life is like for us at this particular moment. So, then, what can possibly be taken away that will leave us bereft, once we decide to live in the presence of God?

Young widows know life's sting. Old inventors know its zest. Middle aged women know its allure. Young couples know its excitement. Middle aged men know its false promise. Children know its partiality - that many thrive some of the time, and that some struggle ceaselessly. But through it all, whatever its twists and turns along the way, life leaves us images of the serene elderly, the ones who fought the fight and found it energizing, found it good. They are proof for the rest of us that if we do not resist it, if we dance the dance of life whole and entire, we, too, may come to the end of it weathered and strong, wizened and laughing, quietly satisfied with what we have learned, for what we have become that we could not have been without our own particular recipe of cleansing pain and perfect joy in proper proportions. There is no such thing as a meaningless moment. Life is a growing thing going from seed to sapling, but always, always toward its purpose, the shaping of the self into a person of quality, compassion and joy. But for that to happen every smaller segment must be faced and cannot be fled.

Indeed, Ecclesiastes weighs them all. He teaches there is a time to kill whatever it is within us that keeps our souls from flying free. There is a time, he says, to refrain from embracing whatever it is that is smothering the heart. There is a time to weep the tears that dignify the going of those things and people in life who have brought us to where we are today. There is a time to embrace the good of life with great thumping hugs that give energy for the rest of the journey. There is a time to reap, to work hard, to achieve and assure the fruits of life. There is a time to glory in the gains of life, to run through life head up and lusty, gathering as we go, piling up the good things and laughing as we do. There is a time to love, to find ourselves in someone else, so that we can find ourselves at all. There is a time to lose, a time to let go of whatever has become our captor in life. There is a time to be born, fresh and full again out of old ideas, old forms, old shapes. There is a time to laugh, to let go of the propriety and old pomposities and join the bungling, lunging, silly human race. There is a time to die, to put an end to things, to stop the carousel, to surrender to the forces of time and trust them. There is a time of war, of struggling against the forces within me that make for my destruction. There is a time to heal ourselves from the hurts that weigh us down and keep us from taking charge of our own emotional lives. There is a time to build up, to construct the new world, to co-create the globe, so that what we leave behind is better than what we have received. Finally, there is a time for peace, for coming to grips with the demons within us, for staring them down and smoothing them out, so that we can spread peace like velvet.

Article exerpted from: 30 Good Minutes Message by Joan Chittister "Time: The Great Spiritual Director" Program #4019 First air date February 16, 1997

With Empowerment, Responsibility

O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. Out of the mouths of babes and infants you have founded a bulwark because of your foes, to silence the enemy and the avenger. When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established;what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them? Yet you have made them a little lower than God, and crowned them with glory and honor. You have given them dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet, all sheep and oxen, and also the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, whatever passes along the paths of the seas. O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth!
Psalm 8

I’ve always lived in a house shaded by huge trees. The house I bought with my husband when we were first married was nestled between tall oak trees. They provided wonderful shade which kept our house cool on hot summer days. They also provided lots of food for the legions of squirrels that made our corner lot their home.

About every four or five years, the entire contents of the acorn crop for that year would fall from the trees in about 1 week, and the noise from those falling nuts was like hail, pouring down 24 hours a day.

In the autumn, we spent hours raking and playing in the leaves with our two children, who were very small in those years.

It was a lot of work to maintain a grassy yard under those oak trees, but we managed to have a decent lawn with the help of grass seed developed to grow in the shade. My gardens contained day lilies, hosta, impatiens and begonias, all plants that thrive with very little sunlight.

About 8 years ago, when it was clear that my family had grown out of our little starter house, we bought a larger house on a larger lot, with larger trees. This time, we were “blessed” with two 70 year old silver maples, one in the front yard and one in the back. These trees also provided cool shade, a home for all of the squirrels in the neighborhood, and many, many leaves to rake in the fall. But we soon discovered that silver maples have a life expectancy of about 70 years. Branches would fall to the ground with each gust of wind, and the squirrels had hollowed out a huge nest in a section of trunk that hung directly over our den. The trees had to be removed.

Except for the great expense to have them taken down, I was thrilled to get rid of those trees. They were messy, and I was looking forward to a yard filled with sunshine. I wanted to grow flowers that didn’t love shade, and I wanted vegetables. In my own yard, I could now plant and grow whatever pleased me.

That spring, I cleared out the garden full of day lilies next to the garage, and I planted a salsa garden. Eight tomato plants and four pepper plants didn’t seem excessive at the end of May. They were so tiny, and I wanted to have a good crop.

If you do any gardening, you can imagine what happened. I spent many sunny afternoons trimming branches and clipping buds from a garden that went wild. The plants were actually choking each other out, and I had to tend carefully to the garden, thinning and trimming the excessive over planting that I did in the spring. I worried that I wouldn’t have any vegetables at all! My enthusiasm for a bountiful crop, and yes, my greed, might have eventually caused my garden to die.

The psalmist reminds us of the great gift that God has created for us. Praising God, he writes, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established, what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?” The psalmist then reminds us not only of the power we have been given over creation, but of the responsibility that comes with that power. “You have given human beings dominion over the works of your hands, you have put all things under their feet.”

In creation, God has given us a great gift. We can do with it whatever pleases us, and we do. We live in a culture of excess. Yesterday I filled up the gas tank on the big red truck that belongs to my husband, and the bill came to almost 50 dollars. With our Costco membership we can buy our crackers in 3 pound boxes. The honey bees are disappearing, possibly because of the millions of invisible cell phone signals that are disturbing their natural radar which helps them find their way back to their hives.

We have dominion over the work of Gods hands, but I think we might misunderstand what dominion means.

In Psalm 8, the word dominion conveys a concept of partnership between God and God’s creation. In her book Gaia and God, feminist theologian Rosemary Radford Ruether reminds us that “nature is not private property to be done with as one wishes, but stewardship over an earth that is God’s.” Those of us who live in the light of God’s grace must be aware of that, and remember that safe in our relationship with God, we are given the privilege and responsibility to be partners with God in care for, love for and intimate relationship with the natural world.

Just because we know how to, and because we can, does not mean that we should. We need to downsize instead of supersize. We should use more public transportation. We should stop buying bottled water. Studies have shown that most tap water is just as good for you, if not better, and the cost to our environment to produce and dispose of all the plastic is staggering.

In 2005, the UN Millennium Ecosystem Assessment discovered that the global food production and distribution system is the main cause of pollution and the greatest destroyer of ecosystems and biodiversity. It’s not industry or oil, as we usually think, but the global food industry. Agriculture poisons and makes the soil infertile, monoculture crops involve increasingly invasive hybrid strains, aquifers get polluted. Unsustainable amounts of water are needed for irrigation, crazy logic sees staple foods transported for thousands of miles, fish stocks are plundered, farms are places where animal lives are just cogs in an assembly line.

We have learned that small everyday acts like changing the type of light bulbs we use, can help our environment. Just think what effect our food choices could have: we really could make a decisive difference. The rules are simple: buy products which are local, fresh, in season and organic; get information by reading the label and, even more important, by getting to know producers; cook for yourself, avoiding precooked and preserved foods; practice healthy restraint, preferring quality over quantity and refocusing our attention on the importance of food. While gaining benefits and respect from virtuous behavior, it won’t be a sacrifice but a pleasure.

Come to my house this summer and I will get you started with fresh ingredients for salsa.

We are blessed with a wonderful world. Our ability to manipulate our environment, to harness and exploit the power of our natural resources is not proof of God’s blessing on our nation. It is evidence that we tend to rely on ourselves, and forget that the primary actor in Psalm 8, and in the world, is not human, but God.

We have been given dominion over the work of God’s hands, and with that empowerment comes responsibility. Dominion thought of in terms of our precious relationship with God and with nature brings with it the responsibility to value the interdependence of God, all creatures, and creation as well as the responsibility to care for the earth as we have been cared for and loved by a God of limitless love.

Amen.

“How old are you?”

For reasons I do not understand, most women and some men don’t like to be asked this question. I’ll never forget the time, while visiting with a very elderly member of my former congregation, what happened when I asked her, out of curiosity I suppose, but also with a sense of awe at her long history, how old she was. She was not amused, and she snapped back that I should never ask a lady her age. Lesson learned. I am very careful about this now.

I don’t mind when people ask about my age. Every year of my life has brought challenges, joys, and experiences that I am grateful for. Although I would never want to relive the past, I appreciate that each moment, each life lesson has shaped me into the person I am today, for better or for worse. My age, a glorious 47 years as of last Friday, is not something that has ever caused me a moment of anxiety and I pray that this will continue.

In her reflections on the biblical story of Ruth, Joan Chittister observes that “early texts called age 45 ‘the meeting of past and future,’ the point at which people came to terms with who they were because, it was now clear, there was no time, no possibility of being anything else.” (Chittister, p. 33)*

I wonder if it is because I can imagine possibilities ahead of me, both in my life and in my ministry, that I remain comfortable with my age. I wonder if I will ever get to a point where I feel like there is no possibility of anything else. I hope that time never comes!

In the book of Ruth, we meet Naomi, the mother-in-law to two daughters, the three of them widowed, left alone in a world that seemed stripped of possibilities. But all three moved hopefully forward to see what God had in store for them. Chittister writes, “Weary from the burdens of her life, aware of how vulnerable she is as a woman alone in society of families, but intent on living still, Naomi refuses to give up. She is a sign of womanly wisdom, a spiritual guide, an antidote to ageism.… Railing and raging, pushing and claiming, scratching and climbing we come to the peak of our physical years, but it is what we know about life, about God, about what’s worth it and what’s not, about what’s holy and what’s not, when our bodies have lost their tensile strength and our legs have lost their timber that may be what the world needs most.” (Chittister, p. 35)

How old are you? And what are your hopes, your dreams, your possibilities?

*(Joan D. Chittister, The Story of Ruth: Twelve Moments in Every Woman’s Life (Grand Rapids: Wm B Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2000)

She Was A Judge

At that time Deborah, a prophetess, wife of Lappidoth, was judging Israel. She used to sit under the palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim; and the Israelites came to her for judgment. (Judges 4: 4-5)

Deborah has been a witness for me as long as I’ve known her. If her job as a judge could be summed up in one word, it would be oracle; spokesperson for God. In her day, she was God’s mouthpiece to Israel as she sat under her palm tree dispensing wisdom to the Israelites. She also spoke for God when her people needed to defend themselves against their oppressors. Although it was unusual for a woman to judge in her time, she was confident in her role, because she knew that she was speaking God’s word. She was confident enough to say to Barak, Israel’s military leader, “the Lord, the God of Israel, commands you.”

When God asks someone to speak God’s word, the chosen person isn’t always ready or willing. It is a frequent human response to tell God, for one reason or another, that we’d be an inept representative, or that we simply do not want to do the job we are asked to do, or that it won’t fit into our life at the present time. But remember, as Deborah did, that whatever God asks us to do or say, God has promised that God will lead us along familiar paths, and will not forsake us (Isaiah 42:16).

Deborah spoke God’s word to Barak, and to the Israelites, and they listened. Somehow, they knew that she was speaking God’s truth. We can all speak for God, but in order to do so, we must carefully listen, as Deborah did, for God’s word. Deborah’s confidence was not in herself, but in God. The kind of wisdom and bravery she showed us is very achievable for each of us when we put our trust in God and in God’s promises.

And so we pray,

Dear wise and guiding God, Help us to see the purpose you have for us in your world. Help us to put our trust and confidence in your work and your word for us, and help us to be brave in proclaiming your love to the world. We pray in the name of Jesus, who is our hope, Amen.

Now the Lord said to Abram, "Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you. So Abram went, as the Lord had told him; Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran. (Genesis 12: 1, 4)

"Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you." - Saint Augustine

I am constantly trying to figure out what it is that God wants me to do, and I never really feel like I know. So I daily remind myself of St. Augustine’s words and I try to follow them.

I will admit that for me, it’s hard to put my trust in God when it seems like so much actually does depend on me. The day to day activities of life are not items that I can place in God’s hands as I sit in trusting and contemplative prayer.

There have been many times when I’ve wished for a clear message from God, complete with the promise of blessing, protection, and guidance, like the one that Abram received. God clearly said go! I will show you the way. And Abram went, no questions asked.

If you read the whole story of Abram, who became Abraham, you will notice that Abram didn’t always trust God. Abraham didn’t always know what God wanted him to do. And so sometimes Abraham got it right, and sometimes he got it wrong. The good news for Abraham, and for us, is that God stuck with Abraham when he was doing what God wanted him to do, and then when Abraham messed up, God was there, too.

We need to live our lives, work as though everything depends on us, and trust God to be God, and pray as though everything depends on God. In the Book of Faith Series bible study on Genesis, Catherine Malotky writes, “the challenge is to trust God implicitly and still live proactively. This is the nature of the covenant God has established with us. Like Abraham, we are on a journey of faith. Faith is not something we tidily achieve and then set aside.” (Leader’s Guide, p. 38)

We will never know in this life exactly what God expects of us each day, so we journey on in faith and trust. We actually DO have a clear message from God; complete with the promise of blessing, protection, and guidance. His name is Jesus.

Prayer for the journey

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that my desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. Thomas Merton (1915-1968)

Ashes and Dust

Last year I found an article in the March issue of “The Lutheran” magazine called 40 Days Without Shaving. The author, Vic Larson, tells about his tradition of giving up shaving for Lent. “Each year on Ash Wednesday I go home from our solemn evening service of ashes and before retiring for the night, I wash my face and put away my electric razor until Easter.” He admits the first time he did it, it was kind of fun. But something else happened, and each time he looked into the mirror, he remembered, “Oh, yeah, it’s Lent.”

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday again, and with a cross of ashes on our foreheads, we will remind ourselves that we are mortal and, as Walter Brueggemann writes in his commentary on Genesis, “death in and of itself belongs properly to the human life that God wills for mankind.” You are dust and to dust you shall return. (Genesis 3: 18)

Some Christian traditions hold an Easter vigil on Easter Saturday night. This lengthy service recalls our faith story, and ends with singing and light and rejoicing as the hope of the glorious resurrection is celebrated. During the vigil, there is often a baptism or two, which helps us to remember that although we will die an earthly death, that we lament our sinfulness, we are washed clean in the waters of baptism and so we get not what we deserve, but what God extends us by grace. We are reminded that we have the hope and privilege to turn to God from whom comes life because we know that we are creatures who face death. And by God’s grace through the life and death and resurrection of Jesus, death will never have the last word.

Vic Larson’s Lenten beard reminds him of original sin from which we are washed clean in our baptism. He recalls the words of Martin Luther. “Original sin is in us, like the beard. We are shaved today and look clean, and have a smooth chin; tomorrow our beard has grown again, nor does it cease growing while we remain on earth.”

Larson writes, “I can shave my beard, but the hair returns to remind me each day. And so I go through life ‘shaving’ and failing, then shaving again.”

We will never be the perfect reflection of Christ while we journey through this life on earth. Even as we strive to live the way God would have us live, we will fail again and again. And then we face death. So we serve God with courage, and we hold fast to what is good. And we remember that through Jesus Christ we are forgiven, and that God, through the power of the Holy Spirit keeps and holds us in eternal life.

A prayer for Ash Wednesday

Merciful God, accompany our journey through these forty days. Renew us in the gift of baptism, that we may provide for those who are poor, pray for those in need, fast from self-indulgence and above all that we may find our treasure in the life of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever, Amen. (from the Ash Wednesday Service found in the Evangelical Book of Worship Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2006 p. 254.)

Siesta Spirituality

Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. (Luke 9: 28)

A windstorm arose on the sea, so great that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but Jesus was asleep. (Matthew 8: 24)

My prayer-life isn’t exactly what you would call exemplary. I work full time, take care of a house and a family, including two dogs, and even find time to fit in a few hobbies. Quiet time spent alone with God comes at a premium. Sometimes I wonder how people ever find time to pray.

Prayer, especially in our busy lives, is important. Prayer is the way that we maintain our relationship with God. In this week’s scripture reading, Jesus reminds us of the importance of prayer. He takes his disciples up to the top of a mountain specifically to pray. Wouldn’t it be great if Jesus would come around once in a while and take us with him to pray? He would certainly hold us accountable.

What is a good prayer life? How do we pray correctly? Do we have to be kneeling alone, silently, for an hour in a dimly lit room? In a little book called Pray All Ways, Edward Hays reminds us that prayer is not an event but a way of living our lives. He teaches that “Jesus has not called all his followers to abandon all other activities of family, life and work to continually and solely engage in … times of prayer… The different activities of our daily lives are not distractions from prayer, but rather the rich soil for prayer.” (p. 14, 15)

Some of the chapters in Hays’ book are entitled, “How to pray with our feet,” and “Feasting as prayer.” My favorite, however, is one of the last chapters, called “The prayer of napping.”

Napping has always been one of my guilty pleasures. When I’m at home for the day, I usually lie down for an afternoon siesta around 2 o’clock. Even on working days, I manage to close my eyes for a few minutes when I get home before I start preparations for the evening’s meal and activities.

Hays reminded me that even Jesus had to rest in order to be refreshed for his work. The story of Jesus stilling the storm (Mark 4: 35-40) shows us “an interesting and unusual form of prayer. Interesting and important for us is the experience we find there: Jesus engaged in the prayer of napping!” (p. 197)

We have to take care of things in our lives, but we also have to stop and allow God to take care of us. When we sleep, we are letting go of everything – especially control – and trusting that God will take over. We are allowing God to take over.

Hayes writes, “as zealous Christians, should we not be ‘on our toes,’ alert, awake, and busy? For who wants to be caught napping, which is a sure sign of carelessness? But wasn’t Jesus caught napping that afternoon on the lake? He was, to put it plainly, careless. To be careless is to be care-less, to be without care or anxiety. He was a casual and relaxed rabbi-teacher who was well aware that not he, but the Father was in control of the universe. That state of awareness is prayer. It is a way of facing the Mystery. Since God was in charge, why worry and be upset with undue care, for he and his friends were held in God’s love which would shield them from all evil.” (p, 199-200)

A Prayer for Nap Time
(or for any time when we desire to be “out- of- control” or to do “nothing-of profit”)

Well, Lord, it’s not yet time to quit – all around me life is buzzing. Nevertheless, I need to let go of being busy and, at times, just to relax. May each nap time be a sacrament for me, giving me the grace to be aware that you are able to use stones to praise you and to raise up your kingdom. My time of doing nothing – of letting go – remind me that it is you, my God, who is bringing about the kingdom, and that the more I can let you do it – especially in the midst of my greatest efforts – the more beautifully and gracefully the age of justice and peace can come in this tired world.

Show me that if I can let go of trying to control people, events, and especially my futile attempts at controlling you, holiness will flow to me more quickly and surely. May each short time of leisure renew my spirit, fill my heart with insights and restore my body. As your Son, Jesus, let go of his cares and fell asleep in the story-tossed boat, may I now let go of my cares and rest in you, my beloved God and ever-vigilant lover. Amen. (Hayes, p. 207-08)

Hayes, Edward Pray All Ways Forest of Peace, Ave Maria Press (Notre Dame, IN, 1981, 2007)

What makes you mad?

Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on the cause of your anger. You must put away every kind of bitterness, anger, wrath, quarreling, and evil, slanderous talk. Instead, be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another, just as God in Christ also forgave you. (Ephesians 4:26, 31-32)

I get mad when things don’t go the way I think they should go. I get mad when a wrench gets thrown into the works. I get mad when somebody does me wrong.

I found this story about anger that I could relate to, and I’d like to share it with you.

Molly and Mort have been married since Monday. For months they have been planning a honeymoon tour of Kansas. On Tuesday they got as far as Indianapolis. They spent the night in the Ramada Inn, and were set to make it to Topeka by nightfall on Wednesday. Molly has heard so much about Topeka. She is sure this is going to be a perfectly wonderful beginning to a storybook honeymoon. But by now, Mort, returning to the room, has a sheepish look on his face.

“What’s up?” Molly asks. “Are we ready to go?” “I’m awfully sorry,” says Mort. “For safe keeping I set the keys to the rental car just inside the trunk while I loaded it. And you know when I next remembered they were there? It was a split second before I heard the trunk lid snap shut as firm and final as anything.” To hide his embarrassment, interrupt the line of vision between their eyes, and to protect him from the emotion that he feels rising like a mighty tide in his bride, he approaches her for a kiss.

Molly is not in the mood for a kiss, and becomes less so when they discover that the locksmith isn’t available until 4:00 pm. The hope of Topeka by nightfall is dead. Molly is mad. You could say she is frustrated; the circumstances are contrary to her wishes. You could say she is disappointed: she was expecting something wonderful and now sees that it won’t happen. But her emotion is more than irritation and disappointment. It is anger. In addition to seeing her circumstances as bad, she sees that it is somebody’s fault.

So what makes you mad? Change a few details in this story, and I can say that I’ve felt exactly the same way that Molly feels, especially towards my husband, several times just in the last week!

There are, of course, other things that make me mad. I get mad about how global warming and the influx of technology are destroying native culture in Alaska. I get mad that because of a continually faltering economy, many of my friends and neighbors still don’t have jobs. I get mad that we can’t protect each other from disease and earthquakes and grief. I see terrible things happening and I wonder who is to blame, and who is going to make it right.

It’s not good to be an angry person. I recently discovered a new word – irascible – the definition of which is being an angry sort of person, marked by hot temper and easily provoked. Sometimes, when I consider all the things I have to be mad about, I feel like that is the direction I may be headed.

So what do I do with my anger? Is it ok to be angry sometimes? What on earth is human anger good for?

Biologists point out that anger is very useful as a signal to the offender. Anger is a part of our original human nature, just as love is. It is not necessarily sinful. Even God gets angry when we sin – his anger is not directed at us, but what we do. And Jesus got angry as well. Jesus got angry at those who obstructed compassion, and eventually plotted against his life. Because Jesus loved us so much, his anger came from love. But Jesus also loved the plotters. With the first sign of true repentance his eye for their goodness overwhelmed his eye for their sin. Remember the repentant thief on the cross next to Jesus? Jesus immediately forgave him, promising him, “Today you will be with me in paradise.”

Paul tells the Ephesians that it’s ok to be angry, but not to sin. Anger turns to sin if it becomes your normal mode of operation – if you become truly irascible. When he says, “Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice,” I don’t think he is saying that we should never be angry, but that we should not always be angry.

Remember how God treated those Israelites who grumbled and complained in the wilderness for 40 years? God was mad at them again and again. And then God forgave them, and helped them out of the mess they’d gotten themselves into again and again. God’s anger at them came from God’s love for them.

We all get mad at something, sometime. When we do, we can remember Paul’s words, and God’s love. We can take the initiative of saying a kind word, telling a joke on ourselves, offering a compromise or making a gesture of reconciliation. A little “I’m sorry” goes a long way. We can say a little prayer. When we do this, we will see something wonderful happen. Others will follow our lead, and we will bear the fruit of the Holy Spirit.

What about them?

“In the waters of baptism, we are reborn children of God and inheritors of eternal life.” (from the service of Holy Baptism, ELW)

“Woe, woe, O great city, Babylon the powerful city! For in a single hour your doom has come!”(Revelation 18:10)

As a pastor, I often get asked questions that I don’t have answers for, for example, questions about heaven and hell and God’s judgment.

Most people don’t really wonder about their own face to face meeting with God. As baptized children of God, we are confident that our baptismal promises hold up. Eugene Peterson observes that even in the face of accumulating and not-yet-avenged justice, it is most remarkable that communities of faith persevere in believing that God is just and will judge. (Reversed Thunder, p. 138)

We wonder about what will happen to the other people, the murderers, the child molesters, the cheaters, the atheists. It is a question we have been asking for thousands of years.

How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? (Psalms 13:2 NRSV)

Why do we wonder about these “other” people when we are confident in our promise of salvation? Do we hope we can do something to help them turn around and repent? Or do we wish for them a swift and just punishment? Sometimes life doesn’t seem fair. We don’t always get, on this earth, what we deserve.

The book of Revelation shows us, in so many ways, the world in which we live. It provides “images that show us what is going on in our lives. ‘If there are mysterious powers around,’ a character in a Saul Bellow novel says, ‘only exaggeration can help us to see them.’” (Reversed Thunder, 145)

Revelation exaggerates not only what is going on around us, but it exaggerates our own lives, calls each one of us to examine how we live, and why we need to repent. Each of us will face God and be called to account for our lives. And each of us will be forgiven.

Revelation shows that God is in control of the whole universe in heaven and on earth. Revelation reminds us that our relationship with God begins with worship.

Eugene Peterson writes, “The word hallelujah occurs in Revelation for the first time in Chapter 19, verse 1. The timing is exactly right, protecting our gratitude and relief for judgment from degenerating into gloating over the judged… Longing for judgment is only a step removed from a demand for revenge. The desire for God’s judgment always totters on the edge of wanting to see our enemies writhe in pain. The saint, wanting God’s judgment to set things right, has a way of slithering into the sadist who takes pleasure in seeing his tormentors punished. [In Revelation] four hallelujahs pull us from the edge of gloating over pain and back to the act of worship where we are humble and adoring in the presence of the Glory.” (Reversed Thunder, 148-9)

“In the waters of baptism, we are reborn children of God and inheritors of eternal life.” Amen.

A New Year, the same you

Do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price. Therefore glorify God with your body. (1 Corinthians 6:19)

It’s that time of the year when we are trying to fulfill our New Year’s resolutions. Most of the festivities of the holidays are over, and even though I still have about 3 dozen Christmas cookies left in the walk-out freezer (the porch), I am trying to eat healthier and lose 10 pounds. I should just throw those little tempters out.

I heard on the radio this morning that the most common New Year’s resolutions have to do with money and health. These things are at the top of the list of things that we want to improve, and yet we really need to work hard at improving them.

According to an article in Seeds for the Parish, “Health is on the tip of the nation’s tongue these days. Health insurance reform, influenza, depression, childhood obesity, the plight of the uninsured … these top a long list of challenging, health-related topics. But there’s a bright spot. Each of us is a steward of gifts given. As a new creation in Christ, we can take steps, today, to change our lifestyle. As individuals, family members, neighbors and congregational leaders, we can work—to the best of our ability —to be healthier in mind, body and spirit.”

What are you doing to respect the temple of the Holy Spirit that is your body, the gift God has given you in which you dwell? You are not simply changing your shape when you chose to live in a healthy way. You are worshiping the one who created you and loves you, even through your struggles and temptations.

Eight reasons to Live Well

1. To be a more effective leader for the sake of the world
2. To role-model healthy behaviors for our children
3. To have a healthier relationship with God
4. To endure hardship with resilience and grace
5. To feel better in mind and body
6. To avoid lifestyle-related illness
7. To better steward gifts given by God
8. To age with strength and dignity

Remember, in baptism you are a new creation in Christ. Every day, and at all times, you can make the sign of the cross on your forehead remembering your baptism and begin anew.

Peanuts and Wisdom

And Solomon said , “And now, O Lord my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David, although I am only a little child; I do not know how to go out or come in.

Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil; for who can govern this your great people?" 1 Kings 3: 7,9

George Washington Carver was born in 1865, and died in 1943 at the age of 78. A former slave, during his life he became inventor, scientist, businessperson, service industry employee, agriculturist, medical worker, artist, author, lecturer, domestic, reformer, and performing artist.

As a member of the faculty of Iowa State College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts, he worked with agricultural products and developed industrial applications from farm products. His research developed 325 products from peanuts, 108 applications for sweet potatoes, and 75 products derived from peanuts. He also developed over 500 dyes and pigments from 28 different plants, and was responsible for the invention in 1927 of a process for producing paints and stains from soybeans, from which three separate patents were issued.

“God’s little workshop” was the name George Washington Carver gave his laboratory. It was there that the famous scientist asked in prayer to discover the uses of what was then a lowly, unesteemed crop—peanuts.

“Dear Mr. Creator,” the humble man began, “please tell me what the universe was made for.”

“Ask for something more in keeping with that little mind of yours,” God answered.

So Carver tried again. “Dear Mr. Creator, what was man made for?”

Again the Lord replied, “Little man, you ask too much. Cut down the extent of your request and improve the intent.”

So the scientist tried once more. “Then, Mr. Creator, will you tell me why the peanut was made?”

“That’s better,” the Lord said, and from that day on Carver began to discover more than 300 uses for the lowly peanut!

What do George Washington Carver and King Solomon have in common? Both asked for a hearing heart. In 1 Kings 3:6-9, Solomon recognized that God’s kindness to David was because of his father’s faithfulness to God, which manifested itself in righteous actions and upright attitudes of heart. Also, he was concerned that he would be able to function effectively as the representative of God. His responsibility as the leader and judge of God’s people weighed heavily on him.

So he requested a “hearing heart,” tuned to the voice of God, so he could lead Israel as God desired. He acknowledged his dependence on God by referring to himself as God’s servant (1 Kings 3:7-8). As a result, God granted his request and gave him great wisdom.

Two men asked for a hearing heart. God gave one the privilege of discovering the value of a peanut, and to the other he gave immeasurable wisdom.

I wonder what God will give us if we ask for a hearing heart today. If you need wisdom, ask him, and he will gladly give it to you.

Peace,
Pastor Carrie Scheller

Revelation and the End of All Things

After this I looked, and there in heaven a door stood open! And the first voice, which I had heard speaking to me like a trumpet, said, "Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this." (Revelation 4: 1)

During the month of January, I will be studying the book of Revelation in preparation for teaching and preaching. The first time I did a Revelation bible study with a group was almost 8 years ago. The location was a nursing home. After my first class, a woman came up to me to tell me that her father had been a pastor. He didn’t like the book of Revelation, she said, because it frightened people. I think she might have even said that her dad thought the book was dangerous.

I don’t think that’s an uncommon sentiment towards what some people believe to be the most difficult and mysterious book in the bible. There are frightening and mysterious images and symbolism throughout the book of Revelation.

But I hope that you will join me this month and give Revelation a chance. What you will find when we read and learn together is another book in the bible that is filled with law and gospel. You will find a book that is filled with hope and promise. And you will find some brilliant and interesting and even entertaining literature.

In Revelation, John, an apostle of Jesus Christ receives a vision of heaven. “John (and thereby his readers with him) is taken up into heaven in order to see the world from the heavenly perspective. He is given a glimpse behind the scenes of history so that he can see what is really going on in the events of his time and place. He is also transported in vision into the final future of the world, so that he can see the present from the perspective of what its final outcome must be, in God’s ultimate purpose for human history. … It is not that the here-and-now are left behind in an escape into heaven or the [end-time] future, but that the here-and-now look quite different when they are opened up to [God’s presence].” (from The Theology of the Book of Revelation by Richard Bauckham: Cambridge University Press, Cambridge UK, 2001. P. 7-8.)

I invite you to discover Revelation, maybe again and maybe for the first time. The hope and promise of God in Jesus Christ be with you! Amen.