Tuesday in the Fifth Week of Easter: Sowing

Lessons: Psalms 61, 62; Wisdom 10:1-4, 13-21; Romans 12:1-21; Luke 8:1-15

I cannot always decide whether it is a blessing or a curse to be older. The easily apparent blessing is that you have experienced much and may have reflected enough to be wise. Some of your foolishness is behind you at least. Yet the curse is you may not see with eyes that are new enough to imagine different outcomes and possibilities. 

Some youth seem to be born wise, except where they lack the experience to tailor this wisdom. Imagination, the birthplace of religious hope and playful joy, is native to most young children. We do well to nurture this playground so possibilities grow within them. Here, they and we remain open to God.

Jesus uses parables to nurture religious imagination. Very few of the parables does he actually explain. Some scholars have suggested that one of two things is true of the scriptures where the parables are explained. Either this parable was so key to the early community that Jesus did actually explain it or it was so key that the community developed a written understanding and imposed this on Jesus. You may chose what suits you here. Yet keep your imagination open.

"To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God; but to others I speak in parables, so that 'looking they may not perceive, and listening they may not understand.' Luke 8:10

This portrait of not perceiving and not understanding connects us to Isaiah's view of God's people in Isaiah's day. (Isaiah 6:9)

So when I read the parable of the Sower and the Seed, I wonder who I am today. The church (Luke 8:11-15) meant it to be descriptive of why some follow and others loose their way. Some stay open and imaginative to God's prodding while others are distracted by the pulls of daily life, or less good desires. Some follow daily and others get drawn this way and that. Evil may lure one as well.

I much prefer to see my self as the seed on good soil which has taken root. Yet in my imagination I also find it worthy to wonder where I am each kind of soil, for I am. I (the path) can get distracted by "the less than good" aspects of life. I can nurture hurtful or judgmental places in me.

I (the rock) can be joyful in moral guidance until there is a moment when I find it inconvenient. Suddenly my favorite grudge is in hand and off I can go to nurse it.

There are thorns in me, though not as much as in others I tell myself. The "thing" in my life that I preserve for good reason can turn me stingy and protective and I can awake to see I have choked the good I might have done.

But mostly I hope I am good soil. We sweeten the soil of our lives by God's word read, meditated upon, taken as a corrective. Jesus invites us to a process of "hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bring forth fruit with patience." (Luke 8:15).

If you garden at all you know that manure can be enriching to the soil when added in right proportion. So looking over our days with an eye to where we might have gone wrong can nourish the days to come. To see, to reflect, to change little by little, this is a worthy enrichment of our journey.

"A sower went out to sow his seed; and as he sowed..."

May he find in us a right harvest.

Monday in the Fifth Week of Easter: The space between

Lessons: Psalms 56, 57; Wisdom 9:1, 7-18; Colossians 4:2-18; Luke 7:36-50

When I read this Gospel this day and the woman who was so well known that the host of the dinner meditates on her worthiness to touch, I wonder who she is. I wonder too about the stories others have shared concerning her. Some have assumed her to be Mary Magdalene, but Luke does not say so.

And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. ...the Pharisee ... said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him, that she is a sinner." Luke 7:37-39.

And here is the trick. Jesus does seem to know who she is, what she might be. Was it her costume? Did she paint her face? Did she know just how to touch with meaning? Was it a place in her eyes, though it is unclear they exchanged a look? Or was it the Pharisee's eyes speaking judgement of both? And did the Pharisee's eyes create a space between himself and Jesus and this woman?

I wonder at that space that lies between any of us who are good for the most part and those we encounter who we judge to be otherwise. In us there always is this space between. Does it keep us safe? And from whom does it keep us so very safe?

I do not know any whores, certainly no one who has "earned" the title. I do know people who have been unkindly granted the title...at least for a moment. I know the granters of the title as well, even in me. And I know this space between that is to keep me safe. I know the drab colors of its decor, mostly grays that move from dense shades or fading ones as I age.

I know the one who had the affair, the one who left spouse. I know those who drank too much, too long and missed the growing family. I know some who awoke to the labor of finding self and those who stayed by in hope. I know the hollow distance that is created when we reach for the wrong thing of lesser value in life and then awake to find it devoid of meaning. How to start again?

As we awake we are in that safe distance we and others create, that space between which does not serve us well. How to start again?

Jesus spoke up and said to him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." "Teacher," he replied, "Speak." "A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?" Simon answered, "I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt." Luke 7:40-43

Always a new beginning is found in the story waiting for us to hear. Not only did Simon now hear and listen, Jesus had once listened in order to offer the story, and the woman who was laboring for forgiveness was listening as well. And as each listened the space between began to vanish. The place that heals began to occupy the space once bound by judgement. Perhaps it vanished less for the Pharisee. We do not know."Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet..." Simon is reminded he neglected a courtesy, which she provided if oddly. In the neglect is the space between intended. Both are forgiven from the place within that desires forgiveness. One will feel it more. Then follows the look, the deep seeing of the woman and the words that will hang in the air. "Your sins are forgiven." ... "Your faith has saved you; go in peace." Luke 7:48, 50

And we must wonder. Later in the world beyond this meal, when each saw her, who did they see? Was she sin? Was she forgiveness? Was she the story they forgot to ask? How safe now was the space between? Was it now thinner?

"Who is this who even forgives sins?"

It is not only Jesus...no, it is you and me.

Fifth Sunday of Easter: Prayer, a narrow gate

Lessons: Psalms 24,29; Wisdom 7:22-8:1; 2nd Thessalonians 2:13-17, Matthew 7:7-14. 

Innocence is a quality we cannot maintain and mature. It yields its early fruit to wisdom as we mature and life throws its lessons in our path. But there is a deeper route in life and that is to pause, see where we are and open ourselves to a deeper journey. For people of faith this necessarily involves prayer, waiting on God's prodding and the deeper gift of a wise life.

Perhaps the most fundamental description of prayer we have in the New Testament (after the Lord's Prayer) is in today's reading of Matthew.

"Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened." Matthew 7:7-14

There is no promise here that we get what we ask for or that we ask rightly what we truly need. Only we are promised that if we knock by prayer, seek by hope, ask what is deepest in our heart/mind, a response will come. What Jesus holds up is not the quick give me prayer but the diligent opening of our being to the Divine Being. It is as much a patient waiting as a momentary knocking.

Immediately following these verses Jesus tells us that there is a tendency to travel life by a broad way with distant boundaries that do not guide us well. So then enter God by a more tailored way. Let it be tailored by what is nourishing of a wise and faithful life as he is teaching it. Most of us have tasted both ways and found the former lacking what fully satisfies our quest for meaning and the good.

"Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it. Matthew 7:13-14

So today I offer not my thoughts fully but yield to one of my favorite poets. George Herbert here meditates on the gift of infant Baptism and the claim of God early on our lives. The gift as he sees it is to hold this narrow way where God has claimed us and we have yielded to this calim.

H. Baptism II by George Herbert 1593-1633

Since, Lord, to thee
A narrow way and little gate
Is all the passage, on my infancy
Thou didst lay hold, and antedate
My faith in me.

O let me still
Write thee great God, and me a child:
Let me be soft and supple to thy will,
Small to my self, to others mild,
Behither ill.

Although by stealth
My flesh get on, yet let her sister
My soul bid nothing, but preserve her wealth:
The growth of flesh is but a blister;
Childhood is health.

Saturday in the Fourth Week of Easter: Are you the one?

Lessons: Psalm 55; Wisdom 7:1-14; Colossians 3:12-17; Luke 7:18-28, 31-35.

 Two men come to mind today from my formative years as a young clergyman. Both were gentlemen, in the full sense of that word. Both were successful businessmen, one in banking, one in insurance. Both were highly principled. One knew it not so much because they talked about it as because they daily wore it in how they spoke and were in all aspects of their lives.

The parish I served in the 70's-80's was inner city. It was a changing parish with an aging white congregation with some socially well placed members, the usual middle class, mostly families, but a good number of singles. The racial mix was strengthening. People came from the inner city and others traveled from suburbs because of the rich worship and music and sense of belonging.

Here is what I observed. Mr. Chandler attended the early simple, said service so he might get home to his aging wife. The parish treasurer, he was quiet, deep, an exacting banker, immaculate in dress. Also at this mass was a woman whose mind was in another reality and if you pierced it, she was attending the Queen. She wore a green knit cap in winter and summer and smelt of homelessness. Sunday by Sunday she invariably knelt next to Mr. Chandler at the communion rail. I observed his manners with her. He never objected to her proximity nor to the smell that left me relieved as I finished her communion. I watched him once offer her a hand though he was 40 years her senior, at least. I felt the reign of God in the gentle space between them.

Robert attended the later service. Like Mr Chandler, he worked in the city and weekends were times to restore. The two shared a deep commitment to the governance of the parish and its material needs. Robert was so often the warm presence with new-comers and all children. Children seemed to look forward to his being by the door, his greeting, his ability to ask after their young lives. If you watch children, you notice they can spot a fraud from any distance. This was never the case with Robert. Trust and warmth was the shared energy.

When the men had come to Jesus, they said, "John the Baptist has sent us to you to ask, 'Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?' " Luke 7:20

When John the Baptist's disciples come to Jesus to ask this question they are asking it for you and me as well. This is the core question of faith. Have we found in Jesus the intervention of God in life and history and our culture? There is a weight to the question because its answer will shape our lives, our character, our daily interactions, our route to the forgiveness we often need as we live in this world. If he is the one and Christianity thus the faith that claims us, we will live by his teachings and being. John and his disciples know this. Jesus' way was beyond John's repentance. His teachings, his healing presence, left others more gently in their world, more whole.

This is well defined in today's epistle.

As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts.   Colossians 3:12-15

The qualities described here can seem weak ones to the business or social world perhaps. Yet when you have been instructed or reprimanded or even fired by someone who embodies "compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience" you know it. There is both clarity to their view and speech. There is a patience as they wait for your response. While you might be brought low, you do not cease to exist as a person who can learn and grow. Except perhaps in the firing, there is a way back, a forgiveness awaiting effort to change what needs changing.

In Luke's gospel we hear in response to John's question, "Are you the one..."

Jesus had just then cured many people of diseases, plagues, and evil spirits, and had given sight to many who were blind. And he answered them, "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me."   Luke 7:21-23

The point here is that the words and the deeds match. What the Prophets had foretold would now follow in the wake of the Messiah. Life is made more whole. Wisdom for living is in the words. We are blessed as we listen and rather than simply feeling judged or resistant, we willingly change, become, "take no offense."

As a young priest, as a growing believer, both Mr. Chandler and Robert instructed me. In them I saw the tracks of Jesus. Even the homeless lady who knelt at the altar showed me. We are changed when we listen to our question, "Are you the one?" We are changed when we let Jesus' answer stand in our lives. We are changed because as we listen to Christ, "compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience" grow in the space within and outside of us.

Perhaps I am most indebted to the children and the lady in the green cap.  How else would I have seen the depth of Mr Chandler and Robert but by the living space between them.

Friday after the Fourth Sunday of Easter

Lessons: Psalms 40, 54; Wisdom 6:12-23; Colossians 3:1-11; Luke 7:1-17. 

Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof:
But speak the word only and my soul shall be healed.

I suppose I learned this prayer in Seminary but I may have learned it long before. It is a prayer countless people pray just before receiving the sacrament of Holy Communion. Many priests say it at the altar before we make our own communion. I remember in my teen years serving the altar and overhearing the celebrant pray this prayer three times while striking his chest..."I am not worthy." How odd it seemed then. The very one I saw as most worthy using these words. Why was I so humbled to overhear him pray?  Why did I feel so at one with him in this moment?

This is a prayer of faith and hope, that this small act of receiving the sacrament of Christ present will provide some healing in our lives. It affirms that we so often approach God not because we depend on our worthiness but because we touch our need to be more whole, more deeply real, alive. By now it is for me a prayer of deep intimacy met by the care that is core to a life well lived or hopefully lived.

It comes to us in today's Gospel. It comes from the intersection of wealth and poverty, power and powerlessness. A centurion, a gentile of significant power and a good heart, seeks healing for his slave. The Jews come to Jesus to ask him to act on the slave's behalf. Why? Because the centurion has shown charity to the oppressed community. He has paid to build a synagogue for the village. That most likely shows he was " a righteous gentile," a moral follower of Judaism who could by birth never be a full convert and yet has faith in the One True God. Or perhaps he was simply an man of a generous heart.

When Jesus is willing to come to him, word is sent back.

When Jesus was not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to him, saying to him, "Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; therefore I did not presume to come to you. But say the word, and let my servant be healed." Luke 7:6-7

The word from the centurion further explains how he is with his own men. The word is sent and an action is done. This clarity of hope and faith causes Jesus to say, "I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith."

The healing is discovered to have happened when the soldiers return to the centurion. It comes from the intersection of wealth and poverty, power and powerlessness. The centurion has both wealth and power. His wealth is seen in owning a slave, building a synagogue he can never fully belong to. Poverty is seen in the slave and the village's need. Power and powerlessness  are seen in his station (power) on the one hand and an illness he is powerless over. Yet in this place he holds the power of compassion, he opens his inner being to hope beyond easy hope, to accept his vulnerable self in light of care.

God in Jesus acts and a healing is actualized.

So we do not mistake this to be the sole province of the wealthy, this story is followed by a healing for a widow who has experienced the death of her only son and way of survival going forward. Jesus touches the bier and the son is made whole and so is her life.

It is not worthiness necessarily that causes the actions of Jesus here. It is need and hope meeting. It is done for one powerful enough to ask and one lost in a land of great grief. It comes upon request and it comes without request yet at the moment of life's deepest vulnerability.

For many, the moment we open ourselves to receive communion, the moment we are desirous and willing to receive Christ into our daily life is this moment. A moment when we release our power and become powerless except to hope. A moment when we know an inner poverty and just beyond we know the wealth of hope vulnerably held.  Sometimes this accompanies a time of sorrow, sometimes joy, sometimes mundaneness.

And so we pray,

Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof:
But speak the word only and my soul shall be healed.

And I believe our open prayer is met with the divine acknowledgement of our hope, a healing of the soul, the compassion of God beneath bread and wine accepted.

Thursday of the Fourth week of Easter: To topple or not

Lessons: Psalm 50; Wisdom 5:9-23; Colossians 2:8-23; Luke 6:39-49 

When we moved to Greenacre there was an adjacent tobacco barn about to be torn down. One more familiar sign of rural life would be lost as these barns grow extinct on the land they once rightly served. We had it moved over the property line to our rear acreage. Last fall we noticed a peculiar lean to the barn only to discover that one of the foundation beams had not been properly supported. Getting someone to jack it up and secure it has been fraught with delays. If we do not see to this soon the whole barn may be lost and our efforts at preservation not worth our initial effort.

In this section of Luke's Gospel, Jesus is still laying the groundwork of discipleship. He is throwing out wisdom sayings that are little guides to life like a collection of multi-textured prayer beads. Each one is meant to disturb us into deeper awareness. It is as if he is saying, "Do your foundation work so you may be secure in your passage through this life as together we build God's reign, or awaken to its presence among us now."

"Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? A disciple is not above his teacher, but every one when he is fully taught will be like his teacher. Luke 6.40-41 

One of my favorite paintings by Pieter Bruegel the Elder is the Blind Leading the Blind. As they begin to tumble in the ditch, one notices the church in the background. The artist plays the two in contrast. The wisdom tradition of scripture is meant to guide us though it cannot protect us from the need to choose wisely what we do or follow. That choice is ever our own.

So Jesus recommends we pay attention to self and that we worry less with our neighbors shortcomings.

Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,' when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye. Luke 6.41-42

As if we do not have enough to ponder here, Jesus goes on to remind us that the fruit we bear is of vital importance. From within we are nourished by what flows from our heart/mind. There can come forth good or evil and we choose which stream we feed. Some traditions suggest we stifle the evil. Others that we see it and invite it to move along, to exit little by little. You choose but notice it passes through us all. Others will know because "out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks." (6:45)    Elsewhere in scripture we are reminded that as small as the tongue is, it is a rudder which propels us in good or evil. Thus our moms often said, "Mind your tongue."

Which brings me to a whole other aside. My Mom did not pull me up short often but when she did it had lasting impact. I don't any longer remember what I had said, but I remember how she stopped me. I had in my teen years passed some judgement on someone else. Mom stopped me and said, "Carr you cannot judge people by what they have. You never know what they have been through to be where they are today. Perfectly good people have suffered misfortune." It might have been less impactful had she stuck with, "Mind your tongue."

Jesus wraps up this first lesson on discipleship with our barn.

Every one who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep, and laid the foundation upon rock; and when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house, and could not shake it, because it had been well built. 6.49 But he who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation; against which the stream broke, and immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great." Luke 6.47-49

In this part of North Carolina old foundations are made of native stone square cut. They produce a foundation which in many cases has lasted for over two centuries. Greeacre is one such house. Jesus here offers us one such foundation. Upon it we build a growing awareness of God's reign. Without it we are but a toppling tobacco barn.

Wednesday after the Fourth Sunday of Easter: Brothers

Wednesday after the Fourth Sunday of Easter

Lessons: Psalm 119:49-72; Wisdom 4:16-5:8; Colossians 1:24-2:7; Luke 6:27-38

Having warned us to honor our vulnerability, to use it as a resource to get beneath our privilege, Jesus goes to the first lesson of discipleship for Luke. Matthew at least has the decency to let us approach this lesson more slowly.

"But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked." Luke 6:35

I have never fully liked this teaching. Who has? This conversation about a love that turns the other cheek is not subtle. Nor is it an easy beginning place. If one is goal oriented, this is one few of us would set early.

In fact if I remember my formative years correctly, this lesson runs contrary to the rules of survival. I grew up with two brothers and a much younger sister. We "scrapped" a fair amount. I was called the Bull by my father mostly because I would fight to near death with my stronger, older brother if I thought he was wrong or unfair. I never won. Once my father told us his Dad had told him, "Remember if you pick up a stick, you are suddenly as big as your opponent."  Next thing my father knew I was chasing my older brother with a 2 x 4 with a nail in the end. Too quickly I had become a convert to this new theory and my father, a not so wise teacher. Soon I learned this was not the lesson he intended for our family.

For boys anyway, loving your enemy is a lesson left for Sunday School and not much reinforced outside. There are lessons about sportsmanship, but just beneath is another lesson of winning at considerable cost. Yet for Luke, loving your enemy is a beginning place. Perhaps he begins here because it is so contrary to earth bound rules of survival, or so we think.

If one is to learn how to gain the compassionate life, begin with the full challenge. The opportunistic business person soon learns that networks are better than mere competition. Learn what you can from whomever you can and it may well pay off. Converting competition into colleague can work to your benefit.

A good game of tennis or golf or bridge or basketball is the result of being willing to enter the game and learn. Too much playing for blood, and the game becomes counterproductive for the spirit.

But Jesus is asking us for something far deeper. He is asking us to disarm one another. Like it or not we are being instructed in non-violent resistance. Instead of picking up the reaction of violence for violence, go deeper. Love has to do with seeking to understand each other. It has to do with walls coming down or at least peering over them to seek understanding. Odd to say, but it is a life challenge. He goes on to say this will be aided, become visible by our generous response of lending aid not for material gain but relationship gain at best. Expect nothing in return. That is the only way to be surprised by whatever gain is to be had. Yet Jesus is going for something deeper. He wants us to know what it is to house God.

"But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked." Luke 6:35

We get to choose if we want to know this. The reward is not stated here to be in heaven. It is in our beings. It is in accepting the touch of godliness so seldom comprehended early in life when we are learning the rules of fair play and deciding if we would rather have a 2 x 4 to up our wins.

My remaining brother and I long ago put away the play of competition. We much prefer a good dinner together and the humor of story and life lessons. We both work variously at growing deeper. I am less challenged by, "love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return." I am more pleased by its gentler effect. Do the gererous thing for the feel of kindness.  I still have work to do.

Don't we all?

Tuesday after the Fourth Sunday of Easter: Merit badges

Lessons: Psalms 45; Wisdom 3:1-9; Colossians 1:15-23; Luke 6:12-26. 

Back in the Dark Ages when I was a Boy Scout, I enjoyed the enterprise of working toward a merit badge. I suspect what I liked most was the process of a goal and working toward it under caring instruction. The manual listed all the hands-on direct actions one was to do to earn the badge. They were usually quite physical such as nights spent outside, building a fire without matches, setting up a tent properly. There were mental bits: making a menu, discussing how to choose a site, reflecting on the importance of sanitation. I know what I most liked was an adult mentor who listened as much as instructed. His task was to encourage and guide your maturation.

In today's Gospel Jesus has chosen the apostles from among his disciples. Twelve out of many followers will make up his core support. They move into a deeper place of guidance under Jesus. Just the same, what we read today, Luke's Beatitudes, are open for all to hear, all whom have come to learn from him and/or to be healed. The Luken author sees the Beatitudes as an address to "his disciples" in the crowd. So it is more than the twelve yet fewer than all who are present. It would be like speaking to the whole Scout troop, those who were on a path to growth, but not as exclusively as the Eagle scouts nor as broadly as all boys. This is their first group lesson. The Church has treated these as meritorious.

"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets. Luke 6:20-23

Luke does not spiritualize these teachings as Matthew seems to. The poor are poor, not poor in heart. The hungry are the hungry, not those who hunger for righteousness. This first instruction is that there is value in being vulnerable in life, be that poverty, hunger, mourning, rejection for your following the will of God. From this place there is an openness to possibility. It is implied that this open space will be met by a deepening relationship to the Son of Man, a godly messenger.

One of the truths of life is that vulnerability either hardens or softens us. People either put up greater defenses or lower walls. I cannot generalize why various people choose which. It may have to do with how often they have allowed vulnerability in their lives or defended against it. It may have to do with how often they have allowed others to know and see their vulnerable self. I strongly suspect it has to do with discovering real care. This alone I know, many who are vulnerable receive remarkable care when they open in safe places. I have seen churches become these safe places for others. I have been instructed by churches which serve mostly with the poor as they create conversations and administer support for great care that heals hope and heart and offers help from places of shared experience and compassion. I have observed humbling generosity and been called into my better self. My heart and mind have been instructed.

Luke balances his Beatitudes with a set of woes.

"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." Luke 6:24-26

These woes are not curses but warnings. Comforts can block our empathy and thus our care. We can from the place of comfort forget that we are part of the flow of God's generous Being. We are strengthened, healed, made more alive when goodness flows through us and out to others. What Jesus taught, and will in Luke now go on to teach, is that as our hearts and creativity open to instruction, compassion and forgiveness, we grow more deeply whole. All in this life are made for the wisdom that compassionate life teaches. It is not our securities that teach us but our vulnerability, our openness to share life that makes us truly rich in deeds.

Perhaps that's what I liked about my time as a Scout working on merit badges. Grown men sat with me, listened to how I was trying to grow, patiently offered guidance, lacked the stern edge of my own father. They were there not just to instruct a set of rules but to tend to how I learned things best. They taught so it seemed we learned together. They acted as if I had earned this merit badge. In truth we earned it together. I wonder if, after my mother sewed it on my uniform, it was also sewn on their heart/minds as something we shared? Their pride in me seemed to say so.

Are we not thus sewn into God as we become compassionate?

Monday after the Fourth Sunday of Easter: Wisdom found

Lessons: Psalms 41, 52: Wisdom 1:16-2:11,21-24; Colossians 1:1-14; Luke 6:1-11.   

The wisdom literature of the Bible seeks to name the core purpose of our lives. Often it sets a contrast between those who seek the intentions of God and those who fail to do so. The wisdom literature is united in a search for the truth of our lives. Such a tension and search is core to the Book of Wisdom we now read.

From today's passage from Wisdom:

"They did not know the secret purposes of God, nor hoped for the wages of holiness, nor discerned the prize for blameless souls; for God created us for incorruption, and made us in the image of his own eternity, ... and those who belong to his company experience it." 1:22-24

As I read this I am reminded of my first desire to make a confession. It occurred after a mishap in a friendship. The short version is that I had befriended a college classmate and it backfired badly. In defending my character I allowed his to be seen in the most uncaring way. I could not find a way to fix either the relationship or get past what felt like my cruel reaction. Before Lent that year I went to my first confession with this concern. I did not return with a quiet mind. I prayed through the next weeks and just before Easter made my next confession with this issue still in my confession. "My, my we are human, aren't we." was the phrase I will always remember. Some useful guidance followed and an absolution. Why that particular phrase put me in perspective, I am not sure but it did. I know the guidance also helped. I would never feel as innocent as I had before this mishap, but I would be wiser when next I faced betrayal of a friendship. I might even be kinder in how I moved on in life. I knew what it was like to not be a "blameless soul" and to find myself corrupted not only by someone else's deeds but by my own in response. I knew what it was to feel I had lost my grasp on things eternal. I knew what it was to feel stained in my soul when that was not what I desired. And now I knew a way back, not to innocence, but to a second chance. In time I would know how second chances can be depended upon to get us repeatedly past choices which corrupt our conscience.

The Disciples don't seem so corrupted today. They were hungry and it was the Sabbath when work and food preparation is forbidden in order to be blameless before God. Perhaps plucking and rubbing the grains free from an ear of corn does not seem like work to them. Here they are in the field and there is the corn. It is seen as work by the Pharisees. When challenged, Jesus reminds them that even the great King David violated certain rules for his men's survival. "The Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath" was not a politically wise comment but was a clear view. I often think of Jesus as a walking Sabbath. Wherever he goes, God goes. Sabbath's purpose is achieved, for in him God is encountered. Thus the healing that follows is not work but the wonder of God's intervention on an ordinary day that is also Sabbath.

And I guess this is the core wisdom. Whenever God's deeper hope for life, like wholeness, is achieved, Sabbath connection is present.

Some years ago my congregation and I signed up with a number of other Episcopal congregations for a Habitat for Humanity work day. We were assigned a Sunday. I was not happy to labor thus on a Sunday, but that was that. I asked about worship. None was planned and the schedule of work was to begin at 8:00 a.m. So I volunteered to be there an hour earlier for anyone who wanted to worship. Was I ever surprised that almost all came early to pray together and receive communion in the street. Sabbath walked into our labor and it was a good day. After all, Habitat is all about care for those with less by those with more. Sometimes it is more money, sometimes more skill, sometimes it is more care which lacks broader expression. It is a day of generosity that follows God's generous nature.

Maybe that is what happened in my second confession. I needed to feel the effect of my actions over a longer time. I needed to understand cause and effect. Then I was ready for humanizing by grace. "My, my aren't we human." I did not need innocence any longer. I needed a Sabbath to bless my failure and help me grow in wisdom. I needed to be reoriented to God and encounter wisdom which is deeper than innocence.

Don't we all?

The Fourth Sunday of Easter: Choosing Gates

Lessons: Psalms 63, 98; Wisdom 1:1-15; 1 Peter 5:1-11; Matthew 7:15-29. 

I am the father of one daughter. Like most parents I know the hope we hold for our children. From birth I have noticed a natural gentleness in her and a deep focus on any task she sets herself to accomplish. We have raised our daughter with values of care for herself and others and God. I have admired the nature of her care expressed. Given our human limits, we have tried also to model care and compassion as a discipline and value in each of our lives.

I have known other parents who chose to model different values -- often competition, a drive to succeed -- as primary.  That is not a bad value, if learned along with compassion.

This week I have thought much about the Tsarnaev brothers.  Mostly I am drawn to the younger one, now captive after the bombing in Boston.   I know little really, but I keep wondering what it is like to have followed an older sibling into this sad and deliberate moment of planned deaths. Perhaps because he survives I wonder what these sad choices will add up to in his life. Was he mostly overly influenced by an elder brother's discontent? Seen by classmates as kind, bright, appropriately competitive as a school wrestler, did he hold the possibility for better choices? What now will he evolve into?

Maybe I wonder this because we all have choices and our lives add up to the compellation of the things we choose. We also face limits which can effect these choices. I wonder this because his is a tender shoot of a life with years to come. Like so many young people, he does not grasp what it will be like decades from now to live out the result of our choices. Few of us did or do.

Jesus teaches the listening crowd.

"Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will know them by their fruits." Matthew 7:15-20

We all need to be aware of the effect of false teachers. I think of this often as I listen to the news commentators. I wonder about their core values as they speak. Do I hear here enough kindness, enough objectivity, enough care for those having less opportunity in our society? Do I hear malice where objectivity should reign? What fruit hangs from these trees? False teachers are not helpful to us, Jesus says.

"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell-and great was its fall!" Matthew 7:24-27

Few of us want to build our lives on shaky foundations. Jesus knows that and perhaps knows some in his audience have already begun their lives on such foundations. This passage today follows a whole discourse on moral self-judgement and the resultant actions. It is here we learn the Golden Rule. We learn also not to judge or we will be thus judged. He has summed up these teachings:

"Enter by the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is easy, that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard, that leads to life, and those who find it are few. Matthew 7:13-14

So I find myself warned to be careful what I choose for myself, to mind my life. But I also hear a call to be compassionate with my judgement, to hold myself compassionately open to God's redemptive power in my life and that of others. The narrow gate is always there for the choosing. There have been moments that I too went through the wrong gate only to recheck myself and return to a different one.  I feel I must hold out this option for others who are building life.

Sometimes as we choose our gates, others see, are influenced and sort out their own choices by ours.

I hope my daughter has seen me more often entering my choices in a way that pointed her to the best gate, the one that leads to eternal life.

Saturday after the Third Sunday of Easter

Lessons: Psalm 30, 32; Daniel 6:16-28; 3 John 1-15; Luke 5:27-39.

I am off early today so this must suffice.

We begin prayer in the Psalms to orient us. We pray in Psalm 32:

You are my hiding-place; you preserve me from trouble; *
you surround me with shouts of deliverance.
"I will instruct you and teach you in the way that you should go; *
I will guide you with my eye." Psalm 32:9

We affirm that we all rest our hope in God and God's teachings. Yet when we read the Gospel we see there is more than meets our easy comprehension. Jesus chooses odd company, sinners, those who are somewhat lost or have a different approach to God. And Jesus is challenged for it. The social occasion is Matthew (Levi) the tax collector's home after learning of the possibility that God would entertain him in Jesus. Good news no doubt.

Then Levi gave a great banquet for him in his house; and there was a large crowd of tax collectors and others sitting at the table with them. The Pharisees and their scribes were complaining to his disciples, saying, "Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?" Jesus answered, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance." Luke 5:27-32

When we are the settled of "religion" it can be a challenge both to see who God might welcome and to find an approach. If we use our imaginations, we have pictures: the derelict who will not labor, those utterly lost in addiction, the bullies of life, someone I detest (can I admit that?). The good news is that if God can welcome these, God can welcome the less attractive parts of me.

Today I will notice others whom I easily overlook...and maybe parts of me I hide.

We read in the Epistle:

So if I come, I will call attention to what he (Diotrephes) is doing in spreading false charges against us. And not content with those charges, he refuses to welcome the friends, and even prevents those who want to do so and expels them from the church. 3 John 1:10

From her early days the Church has had to struggle with acceptable and not so. Turf wars have occurred. What to do? Notice who seems to irritate you in the community, in life, even friends and wonder how God may be reaching toward them or be active in them. Can you drop your barriers of defense? Can you create welcome or simply let it be in others who are in your life that the unacceptable may be seen as acceptable to others in your life and/or church.

Jesus sees his and our task as one of welcome to those we least expect.

Friday after the Third Sunday of Easter: To pray or not to pray.

Lessons: Psalm 105:1-22; Daniel 6:1-15; 2 John 1-13; Luke 5:12-26.

For some time now I have been interested in how important prayer is to many people. It is hard for me to generalize about the import of prayer but I suspect it is best indicated by frequency of prayer. Frequency plus what is prayed for by each religious group is another insight. Still generalizing is hard for me.

As I read Daniel this morning I wondered what it would be like to be told not to pray. What would it be like to be told to pray to an unworthy object?  Furthermore what would that be like given the Judeo-Christian commandment against idolatry?  Besides who would really know about your private inner voice of prayer?  How many times a day does one simply overhear one's inner self voicing a concern to God? 

 

Years ago I was asked by my Spiritual Director to notice the accidents of prayer in my day. I was surprised to note that as I went about my day I would almost instinctually pray. Something gave me delight, a prayer of gratitude. I am off to the hospital and intercession, not only for the one I was going to see but all sorts of folk, came to my prayer. Is this affected by the reality that I had a pattern of seated prayer daily? I suspect it was. Yet the point of the exercise was for me to see how prayer happens even when not intentional. So if I am going to generalize anything, it would be that the intention to pray ups the accidents of prayer. The intention to seek God's company increases the supposition of God's company.

When Daniel is told that all people are only to pray to the King alone for thirty days under penalty of death, we might think "not so hard."  But his life and its fullness has been deeply based on a pattern of daily prayer. His ability to see deeply into meanings has to do with this key true relationship. So when he is told not to pray for thirty days, except to the King, I suspect that is like being told not to breathe, or to breathe only foul air that you must seek out, for thirty days. What person of faith can do this, will do this? Daniel continues his normal life.

Although Daniel knew that the document had been signed, he continued to go to his house, which had windows in its upper room open toward Jerusalem, and to get down on his knees three times a day to pray to his God and praise him, just as he had done previously. The conspirators came and found Daniel praying and seeking mercy before his God.    Daniel 6:10-11.

There is such confidence in this choice, even as there is confidence in our choices daily (or more often) to pray. So easily one may fall into prayer.

In the Gospel Jesus is in a place where healing is expected. So expected is it that when a paralytic's friends cannot get through the crowded door, they open the roof to let the paralytic down to Jesus. Jesus admires the faith and determination and speaks the popular belief about illness. "Friend, your sins are forgiven you." He is challenged on this statement. The proclamation of forgiveness is not done by mere mortals. So Jesus continues,

"Why do you raise such questions in your hearts? Which is easier, to say, 'Your sins are forgiven you,' or to say, 'Stand up and walk?' But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins," he said to the one who was paralyzed, "I say to you, stand up and take your bed and go to your home." Immediately he stood up before them, took what he had been lying on, and went to his home, glorifying God.     Luke 5:22-25

I suspect that this was an offshoot of how Jesus prayed with and for people. He took their popular belief and took it another step. He held expectations that God would act, spoke confident words of sins forgiven and wholeness was the result. Jesus in Luke's Gospel maintains this pattern even over against religious objection.

It is interesting to me that one survey on prayer and health shows a high correlation between prayer and healing or the expectation of healing. It is further interesting that in this dry statistical report the expectation of an intersection between prayer and wholeness increases with educational attainment. You might say, when the going gets rough, the faithful get to praying.

No wonder Daniel continued to pray as he always had.

No wonder we do too.

Thursday after the Third Sunday of Easter: Writings on the wall 2

Lessons: Psalm 37, Daniel 5:13-30; 1 John 5:13-20; Luke 5:1-11. 

 

If one follows the idea of natural religion, then one knows God in nature, can discern God in things about you. This morning as I settled into prayer a cardinal, our NC state bird, settled on the third floor deck railing at the beach house. I was struck with wonder. There are no trees this high. Why was the bird there? His color was so bright, his turning head so multi-focused. From what he held in his beak, he was nest building. I wondered at his creation, so much beauty in so small a creature. Gratitude rose in my heart for his existence and his Creator. That is natural religion at work. From a small creature, God is deduced. 

As we move farther from nature, hold nature in less respect we may drift from an awareness of God in things about us. Natural religion becomes less natural. The numbing effects of the urban and material world may play more easily in our mind and actions. When I read Daniel today and yesterday I had to wonder. Did Belshazzar, the king, live so that he failed to deduce God, the Most High God? When he chose to use the sacred vessels of Israel's Temple for profane use, was it lack of knowledge of their original function, to give God glory? Or did he in his station and power just desire them? His father clearly kept them safely out of use. Why? Was it respect even for the sacred we do not fully know or understand? 

It is from this place of no nurtured awareness that judgement comes, the writing on the wall. The supreme power of this discernable God is revealed in the judgement of this pagan ruler.

MENE, God has numbered the days of your kingdom and brought it to an end; TEKEL, you have been weighed on the scales and found wanting; PERES, your kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and Persians.    Daniel 5:26-28

In Luke's Gospel, Peter has not yet come to a full recognition of all that is in Jesus. Perhaps that was true for all before the experience of the Resurrection. Jesus has just borrowed Peter's fishing boat as a preaching/teaching station, making use of a natural amphitheater. Peter is captured with the audience. In payment, Jesus invites Peter and the others to put back out into the sea for a catch, the one that eluded them all night. When the catch, coming at the wrong time of the day, is so abundant that it is swamping the boat Peter recognizes that he is in more than the presence of a great teacher.

"Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!"  For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.    Luke 5:8-11  

What is it that judges Peter? Is it his skepticism of God, of a generous creation and creator? Nature does not usually produce a harvest this way. Is he judged by some greed that he houses? Is it simply that he sees his own smallness of heart next to so generous a moment?

Notice his healing. "'Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.' ... They left everything and followed him." Nature has been useful here but the encounter is with a power beyond nature. It is perhaps caught between the generous fishing moment and Jesus words spoken to the crowd from Peter's boat. Some great conviction of the heart, some deep hope about life, has taken hold for now. The rest of his conversion comes later.

God can be deduced from nature if we are so open. But God's full measure requires more than nature. That is the gift of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ. That is why we both desire and need to continually read the teachings of Jesus and the writings of the Church, meditations of this revelation.

The author of First John writes his epistle to help the budding church know Jesus' impact on their lives. The concern is more than natural religion. Like Judaism before, there are moral implications to knowing God and being in relationship to God and to one another. Our actions show our practice. He reminds his readers that there are "mortal sins" for which there is limited forgiveness. A serious, grave or mortal sin is the knowing and willful violation of God's law in a serious matter, for example idolatry, adultery, murder, slander. These are all things gravely contrary to the love we owe God and, because of Him, our neighbor. Like Belshazzar we do not want to be weighed in the scales and found wanting in the gravest moments of life.

There are also lesser sins, what we call venial sins. Where slander (gossip aimed at destruction of someone's reputation) is mortal and deeply serious, gossip which is accidental, unintentional is venial, less serious, though requiring forgiveness and absolution. Faithful people practice awareness so that we may not simply drift into a destructive life. Deliberate acts of generosity, kindness, forgiveness of others are a sort of antidote in the grace filled life.

Here is the writing on the wall that First John offers people of faith.

We know that we are God's children, ... And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life (for us).     John 5:19-20

Daily we make our choices. Will we hold with natural religion? Will we journey deeper? How will we practice our lives with the writing on the wall that we find most true?