It has been helpful these past few weeks to have the Gospel lessons read like we read the Passion Story. They have been long readings containing lengthy dialogue between multiple characters. Hearing a distinctive voice for each person helps us to make sense of all that unfolds, of all that is said. In today’s reading we hear the voices of Jesus, the disciples, Thomas, Martha, Mary, and their friends. Did you pick up on something about this list? Of all the people in the reading, only one person says nothing at all; only one character has no lines in the drama. Do you know who it is?
Lazarus! First in sickness, then in death, and finally even in life, he is shrouded in silence. John’s Gospel gives us great insight into what Jesus is thinking and feeling. We learn quite clearly what the sisters think and feel and we know much about their grieving friends. We know the doubts, questions, and concerns of the disciples. But we know nothing at all about Lazarus.
This void must have inspired the poet Henry Coleman (who died in 1640). Wanting to explore what the silent figure might have been thinking, he wrote “On Lazarus Raised from the Dead.” It is written in the first person from the perspective of the body in the tomb:
Where am I, or how came I here, hath death
bereaved me of my breath,
or do I dream?
Nor can that be, for sure I am
there are no ensigns of a living man,
beside, the stream
of life did fly
from hence, and my blessed soul did soar on
and well remember I,
my friends on either side
did weeping stand
to see me die;
most certain then it is my soul was fled
forth on my clay, and I am buried.
These linens plainly show this cave did keep
my flesh in its deep sleep,
and yet a noise
me-thought I heard, of such strange force
as would have raised to life the dullest corpse,
so sweet a voice
as spite of death
distilled through every vein a living breath,
and sure heard it charge
me by my name, even thus
O Lazarus
come forth at large,
and so nought hinders, I will straightway then
appear, (though thus dressed) ere it call again…
I like that the poem begins with confusion. What is going on here? Where am I? What happened to me? Once these questions are settled a disruption is inserted: “Me-thought I heard something.” But what? A noise, a sound, a voice. Just as in the first part of the poem, understanding and clarity emerge only over time. Next comes a strange feeling: “distilled through every vein a living breath.” Just like Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones, something restorative begins to happen to Lazarus. Coleman’s wonderful image invites us to ponder what it might feel like to have life reenter a body it had departed. Now Lazarus is able to make out quite clearly Jesus’ voice calling him forth. I love how the poem ends as Lazarus realizes he is not properly dressed, yet wants to move forward ere the voice have to call again.
Coleman’s poem helps me to remember that there are many different kinds of dying each of us will experience in life before we experience the death of our body. Our very first moment in life comes only as we die to life in our mother’s womb. We form friendships and friends move away. We fall in love with a novel, but the book ends. We pour ourselves into the life of a school, only to graduate and leave it all behind. We are young and vital, but as we age our physical capacities and condition diminish. We have a career, but change jobs or even change vocations, and eventually retire. We marry, but every marriage ends either in death or divorce. We have children, but children grow up and move on. Only a precious few manage to sail through life without being touched by tragedy – the untimely or cruel loss of someone or something near and dear. We experience many kinds of dying in this life before we experience the death of our body.
Coleman’s poem has identified a pattern we go through in some form or another after each death we experience in life. His is the poetic version of Kűbler-Ross’ more clinical five stages of grieving. First there is confusion. We don’t understand all that we are feeling and may not even recognize that we have lost something. Confusion eventually yields to insight. And while understanding is important, it is not enough. We can know exactly what is gone in our life and we can identify precisely how it has affected us, but that is not enough to get us going again. We can stay stuck or shutdown for a very long time.
But then there comes what we only hear as a noise, then as a sound, and finally as a voice – God’s voice – calling us to new life. This too can come about quite slowing or it may come upon us suddenly, dramatically or it may be some combination of both. Our stories of finding new life after loss are as unique and distinctive as the death we experienced.
I read once something Jess Trottier, one-time dean at Virginia Seminary, said years after the suicide of his son: “I have been to the depths and God has brought me back.” Can you identify with that? Do you know what he means? Death has many different forms and faces. It takes us to different depths and places of darkness. Through it all, one thing is constant: God’s ability to bring us back.
The last question posed in The Outline of the Faith (commonly called The Catechism) in the Book of Common Prayer is this: “What is our assurance as Christians?” The answer: “Our assurance as Christians is that nothing, not even death, shall separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” “Nothing, not even death” is a phrase that rolls a lot together in a way which makes it easy to overlook the first in light of the second. Listen to it this way: “Death shall not separate us from the love of God.” “Nothing shall separate us from the love of God.” Somehow the first is easier to believe than the second, isn’t it!
There are times in this life when we feel so broken, so down, so afraid, so unworthy, so unloved or unlovable, that God’s love feels lost. But it is not, not ever. Somehow, somewhere, at some time which marries God’s choosing with our readiness, we hear a noise that becomes a sound that we come to recognize as a Voice. We come to sense that distilled through every vein of our life there is once again a living breath. God has called us back from the depths and we reenter life, wearing something new and being someone new for all that we have been through.
Haven’t you experienced this? I have. And that is why I am so assured. Since nothing in this life has ever kept me separated from God’s love in Christ Jesus, I am convinced that death will not either. Some day I will die. I don’t know what it will feel like at first, nor do I have any sense of what it will be like in the beginning. But I believe with all my heart that there will come a time when I will hear the Voice I have heard so often in life, calling me by name one final time. And I believe at that moment I will respond immediately to a great, new adventure, ere the Voice should have to call me again.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
Let's See What God can Do
Several themes and thematic questions run through the Old Testament. Generation after generation wrestle and struggle with various ideas and concerns; especially as they encounter God and God’s on-going revelation in through their own experiences. Questions like “who is God?”, “how do I treat the foreigner?,” and “what is justice?” Today’s Gospel reading picks up on a theological discussion that has been played out for centuries. Jesus and His disciples happened past a blind man and so they raise the question, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents.” Rabbi – teacher, what say you?
God’s people have been trying to understand the nature and ramifications of sin for a long, long time. After creation, it is the second theme taken up in the bible. The Garden of Eden, the fruit of the forbidden tree, Cain and Able, the tower of Babel, the Flood – the first Genesis stories revolve around the notion and nature of sin and its consequences. The Exodus stories of the golden cafe, the grumbling for food and water, and Moses striking the rock twice when God said once: all continue to explore and develop this motif. Saul is chosen as king, then rejected for offering a priestly sacrifice before battle when Samuel is delayed. David is chosen as king, then judged for his indiscretions with Bathsheba that led him to arrange the death of her husband, Uriah. Centuries later, a moral and theological reform sweeps through the nation under King Josiah after the old book of the law is rediscovered. It holds that God blesses those who obey and punishes those who don’t. But after the Assyrians devastate the northern kingdom of Israel and the Babylonians destroy the southern kingdom of Judah, leveling the temple in Jerusalem and forcing survivors to live into exile, some begin to wonder if this theology holds water. The book of Job is the sharpest critic; offering the challenge that some suffer much, much more than can be justified by their ‘sins.’
Through today’s Gospel reading, we enter into a facet of this ongoing search. In the book of Exodus, God warns that a person’s sins will be visited on his or her children, even to the fourth generation (20:5). Centuries later, the prophet Ezekiel challenges this notion by insisting that children do not suffer on account of their parents’ sins. God punishes the individual who committed the sin, the prophet proclaimed, not the innocent offspring (18:20). Well, these two positions are mutually exclusive and so, in an effort to reconcile the two, scholars concluded that it was possible for a child to sin while in the womb; thus causing birth defects. Not everyone was satisfied with this, thus the debate raged on. Given this background, you can see what the disciples are getting at when the ask Jesus – the Rabbi/teacher – to weigh in.
“Who sinned, this man or his parents?” Jesus response is neither. “He was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” Another translation puts it this way: “This happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” Either way, Jesus’ answer is problematic because, while it lays to rest the idea that birth defects are punishment for sin, it opens the door to the idea that God causes them in order to show off what God can do.
Craig Koester is a New Testament professor at Lutheran Seminary in Minnesota whose writing on the book of John has helped me make sense of several difficult passages. After looking at the original Greek, he says a better way to translate Jesus’ response is this: “Neither this man sinned nor his parents, but in order that the works of God might be revealed in him we must work the works of Him who sent me while it is still day.” “Instead of trying to look back to determine what lay behind the blindness,” Koester writes, “Jesus looked ahead to what he might do with the blindness.”
So here is what Jesus adds to this age-old discussion: He does not categorically reject the idea that God punishes sin nor does He deny that human actions can and do have negative consequences. What He says is that not all suffering is caused by sin and that suffering elicits God’s compassion and God’s power to heal and God’s desire to make all things whole.
Years ago, when I was married, my wife miscarried several months into a pregnancy. I was devastated and while it in no way reflected my theology then or now, in my pain and grief all I could do was remember every sin I ever committed and I interpreted the loss as their consequence; as a punishment. As I said, this is not what I believe theologically, but it is what I experienced personally. Maybe it was the result of the Tempter’s taunts in a moment of weakness or maybe it is a natural human response in the face of overwhelming loss. Over time I began to know once again the same Jesus who touched the man born blind; the Jesus who was not interested in assigning blame, but who wanted to do God’s work for the broken-hearted.
More than one of you has sat in my office or called me on the phone or sat across a table from me and described the pain and the brokenness and the messiness of your life. You know that, as I listen, I always say it is worth exploring your part in all that has unfolded. How did you contribute to it? What have you learned? What will you do differently the next time? Pain and suffering, while unwanted, have a way of bearing the fruit of wisdom and insight. And while I say this to you, you also know that most of what I do is try to untangle you from the notion that you somehow deserve what is happening to you. My experience has been that most of the pain in my life has been disproportionate to whatever sin may have caused it and that is the sense I get when I listen to your stories as well.
To this century’s old deliberation about the nature of sin and its connection of suffering, Jesus says this: “Let’s not try to figure out who is to blame. Let’s figure out what God is capable of doing with it.” God’s work for the man born blind restored his sight. The ultimate work of Jesus in the face of sin was accomplished on the Cross. There we see most fully God’s willingness to be in relationship with us even though it causes God pain and suffering. “I will bear your sins,” God says, “because my love for you cannot be broken”; it is much the same as a parent who endures a child’s tantrums, a child’s fears, and a child’s sicknesses because the joy of being in relationship far outweighs the cost.
“Neither this blind man sinned or his parents, but do you know what I see here? I see an opportunity to do God’s work.” Jesus has a marvelous way of reframing the question, doesn’t He. But it is also one that is very challenging. Someone recently posted this on facebook: The good news is God answers prayers… the bad news is God uses people like me and you to do it. Jesus still walks from place to place and Jesus still encounters suffering disproportionate to anything a person deserves. Jesus stills sees opportunities to be doing the work of God in that person’s life. The only difference between now and when He encountered the blind man is that Jesus needs to work through you and through me to do it. Your compassionate touch, my merciful embrace, our healing love can mediate God’s power if we are willing to be a part of the work God seeks to do.
God’s people have been trying to understand the nature and ramifications of sin for a long, long time. After creation, it is the second theme taken up in the bible. The Garden of Eden, the fruit of the forbidden tree, Cain and Able, the tower of Babel, the Flood – the first Genesis stories revolve around the notion and nature of sin and its consequences. The Exodus stories of the golden cafe, the grumbling for food and water, and Moses striking the rock twice when God said once: all continue to explore and develop this motif. Saul is chosen as king, then rejected for offering a priestly sacrifice before battle when Samuel is delayed. David is chosen as king, then judged for his indiscretions with Bathsheba that led him to arrange the death of her husband, Uriah. Centuries later, a moral and theological reform sweeps through the nation under King Josiah after the old book of the law is rediscovered. It holds that God blesses those who obey and punishes those who don’t. But after the Assyrians devastate the northern kingdom of Israel and the Babylonians destroy the southern kingdom of Judah, leveling the temple in Jerusalem and forcing survivors to live into exile, some begin to wonder if this theology holds water. The book of Job is the sharpest critic; offering the challenge that some suffer much, much more than can be justified by their ‘sins.’
Through today’s Gospel reading, we enter into a facet of this ongoing search. In the book of Exodus, God warns that a person’s sins will be visited on his or her children, even to the fourth generation (20:5). Centuries later, the prophet Ezekiel challenges this notion by insisting that children do not suffer on account of their parents’ sins. God punishes the individual who committed the sin, the prophet proclaimed, not the innocent offspring (18:20). Well, these two positions are mutually exclusive and so, in an effort to reconcile the two, scholars concluded that it was possible for a child to sin while in the womb; thus causing birth defects. Not everyone was satisfied with this, thus the debate raged on. Given this background, you can see what the disciples are getting at when the ask Jesus – the Rabbi/teacher – to weigh in.
“Who sinned, this man or his parents?” Jesus response is neither. “He was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” Another translation puts it this way: “This happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” Either way, Jesus’ answer is problematic because, while it lays to rest the idea that birth defects are punishment for sin, it opens the door to the idea that God causes them in order to show off what God can do.
Craig Koester is a New Testament professor at Lutheran Seminary in Minnesota whose writing on the book of John has helped me make sense of several difficult passages. After looking at the original Greek, he says a better way to translate Jesus’ response is this: “Neither this man sinned nor his parents, but in order that the works of God might be revealed in him we must work the works of Him who sent me while it is still day.” “Instead of trying to look back to determine what lay behind the blindness,” Koester writes, “Jesus looked ahead to what he might do with the blindness.”
So here is what Jesus adds to this age-old discussion: He does not categorically reject the idea that God punishes sin nor does He deny that human actions can and do have negative consequences. What He says is that not all suffering is caused by sin and that suffering elicits God’s compassion and God’s power to heal and God’s desire to make all things whole.
Years ago, when I was married, my wife miscarried several months into a pregnancy. I was devastated and while it in no way reflected my theology then or now, in my pain and grief all I could do was remember every sin I ever committed and I interpreted the loss as their consequence; as a punishment. As I said, this is not what I believe theologically, but it is what I experienced personally. Maybe it was the result of the Tempter’s taunts in a moment of weakness or maybe it is a natural human response in the face of overwhelming loss. Over time I began to know once again the same Jesus who touched the man born blind; the Jesus who was not interested in assigning blame, but who wanted to do God’s work for the broken-hearted.
More than one of you has sat in my office or called me on the phone or sat across a table from me and described the pain and the brokenness and the messiness of your life. You know that, as I listen, I always say it is worth exploring your part in all that has unfolded. How did you contribute to it? What have you learned? What will you do differently the next time? Pain and suffering, while unwanted, have a way of bearing the fruit of wisdom and insight. And while I say this to you, you also know that most of what I do is try to untangle you from the notion that you somehow deserve what is happening to you. My experience has been that most of the pain in my life has been disproportionate to whatever sin may have caused it and that is the sense I get when I listen to your stories as well.
To this century’s old deliberation about the nature of sin and its connection of suffering, Jesus says this: “Let’s not try to figure out who is to blame. Let’s figure out what God is capable of doing with it.” God’s work for the man born blind restored his sight. The ultimate work of Jesus in the face of sin was accomplished on the Cross. There we see most fully God’s willingness to be in relationship with us even though it causes God pain and suffering. “I will bear your sins,” God says, “because my love for you cannot be broken”; it is much the same as a parent who endures a child’s tantrums, a child’s fears, and a child’s sicknesses because the joy of being in relationship far outweighs the cost.
“Neither this blind man sinned or his parents, but do you know what I see here? I see an opportunity to do God’s work.” Jesus has a marvelous way of reframing the question, doesn’t He. But it is also one that is very challenging. Someone recently posted this on facebook: The good news is God answers prayers… the bad news is God uses people like me and you to do it. Jesus still walks from place to place and Jesus still encounters suffering disproportionate to anything a person deserves. Jesus stills sees opportunities to be doing the work of God in that person’s life. The only difference between now and when He encountered the blind man is that Jesus needs to work through you and through me to do it. Your compassionate touch, my merciful embrace, our healing love can mediate God’s power if we are willing to be a part of the work God seeks to do.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Legacies of the Hands and Legacies of the Heart
I have forgotten her name, but I can still remember her face, her home, and the conversations we had. She was 95 years old, had out-lived her husband, her children, and all her relatives - save a nephew in Chicago who was a retired doctor. All of her friends had long since passed. She lived in a distinctive house overlooking the Mississippi River in the small town where I served as rector at the Episcopal Church. She was frail and homebound and so once a month I took communion to her. During these visits we talked about town history or the changing weather or her latest trip to the doctor’s. But no matter what else we discussed, she always, always, always spoke of being ready to ‘go’ – as in to die. She could not understand why she had lived so long and why everyone she loved was gone, but she was desperately lonely and alone. She wasn’t sad or depressed; she had had a good life and now, in failing health and no one to be with, she was ready for the next big adventure.
The other thing I remember about this woman is she was wealthy. Townsfolk estimated her net-worth to be somewhere between 5-10 million dollars. In a small town struggling to get by, that is a lot of money. She was one of only a handful of people with such resources. When she passed, it all went to her nephew from Chicago. He came to town, attended the funeral, made arrangements for her affairs, and left within a week… looking like a lottery winner. “What a shame,” one of the local civic leaders said to me. “With her wealth, she could have endowed the church, the YMCA, the library, the art center, the hospital, the community college, and anything else she cared about. But now, all that money is headed to out of town with a person who doesn’t even need it.” Sadly, no one had approached her about building a legacy while she was of a frame of mind to consider the possibilities.
Curiously, she always comes back to me when I hear today’s gospel reading. The story of the Samaritan woman talking with Jesus is so full and rich I suspect I could preach on it every Sunday in Lent and still not come close to exhausting the possibilities. But notice how it starts. Jesus comes to the outskirts of a particular town called Sychar. It is noontime on a hot, dry day and Jesus, who has been traveling on foot, is tired, hungry, and thirsty. He sits down at a well; and not just any well, it is a well dug by Jacob.
Being Abraham’s grandson, Jacob was one of the founding patriarchs of the Hebrew people. His many sons become the heads of the twelve tribes of Israel. It was through Jacob that God’s promised blessing to Abraham began to take form and shape.
I believe there are two reasons why Abraham, Jacob, and their offspring fared so well when they settled in the land of Canaan. First and foremost, God blessed them. And second, they possessed technological advantages that benefited them over the local population. For example, they knew a great deal about animal husbandry; particularly how to breed for size and strength. And, they knew how to create wells. In a region where water is so precious this gave them a huge edge. Think about the town of Sychar. People had been living in that area for thousands of years, but not until Jacob settled there did anyone know how to make a well.
Jacob’s work must have transformed life in that community. It now had a clean, consistent water source that held up through the ebb and flow of seasonal droughts. Jacob lived some 1,300 years before Jesus. Every day for 1,300 years that well was a source of life, it was a social center, it was a site where people stopped to be refreshed, and it was all made possible by one person’s stewardship.
What have you done that will endure as a service to others? What can you do now that will support the common good, and not only now, but long after you are gone?
It is easy for us to think about that small town, elderly woman and dream of all the things she could have done with her wealth. It is a little more challenging for people with means closer to our level to imagine we too can make a difference. What we can contribute is just a drop in the bucket, but some buckets get filled up that way… one drop at a time.
Last week we joined with Episcopal churches throughout our country in a project called ‘Hope for Haiti,’ which seeks to rebuild the cathedral devastated in last year’s earthquake… and to rebuild it one brick at a time, $10 a brick. Here at St. Paul’s, our goal is to raise money for 300 bricks. Every one of us here this morning has the capacity to be a part of this legacy.
Here at St. Paul’s, over the course of this month, a plumber has come to evaluate all of the church’s water-using fixtures and to make repairs, a roofer has inspected the gutters and will fix leaks, and a new air-conditioning unit is going to be installed to serve the offices. The to-do list around here never ends. Some people grit their teeth when they see the maintenance line item in our annual budget. Couldn’t that money be used for something better than upkeep on this old building? Well, yes and no. Our facilities are a legacy and heritage from the past and every penny we put in to them guarantees that this will be a center of mission and prayer for decades to come. We don’t know what Jacob’s well looked like, but if it used a bucket and a rope to draw water, you can be sure that both needed to be repaired and replaced more than once over 1,300 years. It was up to each successive generation of the people of Sychar to make sure Jacob’s gift kept on giving.
One summer when I was in college I laid cement, mostly for sidewalks. When I go back to that town I can still drive past houses where I did a job and see the work I did. It is a legacy of sorts, but it is not much nor is it very impressive. Certainly, 1,300 years from now there will be no trace of what I did. I am OK with that and I’ll tell you why.
When I hear today’s gospel reading I recognize that some legacies take a material form – a building, a work of art, perhaps a composition of poetry – that will endure across the ages. Other legacies are financial – gifts given that properly stewarded will yield income in perpetuity. But some legacies are of the heart. There is no way to measure them. There is no way to trace their impact. But their value is real, even if it is unseen.
Here we gather 2,000 years later, and Jacob’s well is an afterthought. I don’t even know if it exists any more. But today people all over the world are gathering in Christian churches to hear again the conversation between Jesus – the Lord of life – and woman who went to a well to draw water. Yes, she filled up her water jars, but even more she drank of the water of Life. Jesus touched her in a way that created a legacy of the heart. It is a gift that does not show up on a balance sheet. You cannot put a plaque next to it for all to read. It is spiritual, but it endures, doesn’t it.
No matter who you are, no matter what your means, you have the capacity to leave this kind of legacy; perhaps with your children, or with your friends, of with the members of your church, or with the most desperately needy people in town. When I think back to those monthly conversations with that elderly woman, I now understand she was telling me something very important, but I didn’t recognize it at the time. The thing that was so crippling for her was not that she was old, not that she was ill, and not that she was alone – although being alone was an important clue. Her struggle had everything to do with the belief she no longer could touch the heart of another. She had no one to comfort, no one to support, no one encourage. She believed there was no one who could benefit from what she had to offer, and thus she was ready to move on.
So, about a reading that I could preach on for a month and not exhaust all it has to offer, let me say just two things. First, you can do something with your resources that will bless and refresh generations to come. And second, whenever we gather with another person we always touch each other, even if ever so lightly, so that some trace of the encounter transforms our hearts and souls in a way that endures. Legacies of our hands and legacies of our hearts move this world ever so closer to God’s dream for all people.
The other thing I remember about this woman is she was wealthy. Townsfolk estimated her net-worth to be somewhere between 5-10 million dollars. In a small town struggling to get by, that is a lot of money. She was one of only a handful of people with such resources. When she passed, it all went to her nephew from Chicago. He came to town, attended the funeral, made arrangements for her affairs, and left within a week… looking like a lottery winner. “What a shame,” one of the local civic leaders said to me. “With her wealth, she could have endowed the church, the YMCA, the library, the art center, the hospital, the community college, and anything else she cared about. But now, all that money is headed to out of town with a person who doesn’t even need it.” Sadly, no one had approached her about building a legacy while she was of a frame of mind to consider the possibilities.
Curiously, she always comes back to me when I hear today’s gospel reading. The story of the Samaritan woman talking with Jesus is so full and rich I suspect I could preach on it every Sunday in Lent and still not come close to exhausting the possibilities. But notice how it starts. Jesus comes to the outskirts of a particular town called Sychar. It is noontime on a hot, dry day and Jesus, who has been traveling on foot, is tired, hungry, and thirsty. He sits down at a well; and not just any well, it is a well dug by Jacob.
Being Abraham’s grandson, Jacob was one of the founding patriarchs of the Hebrew people. His many sons become the heads of the twelve tribes of Israel. It was through Jacob that God’s promised blessing to Abraham began to take form and shape.
I believe there are two reasons why Abraham, Jacob, and their offspring fared so well when they settled in the land of Canaan. First and foremost, God blessed them. And second, they possessed technological advantages that benefited them over the local population. For example, they knew a great deal about animal husbandry; particularly how to breed for size and strength. And, they knew how to create wells. In a region where water is so precious this gave them a huge edge. Think about the town of Sychar. People had been living in that area for thousands of years, but not until Jacob settled there did anyone know how to make a well.
Jacob’s work must have transformed life in that community. It now had a clean, consistent water source that held up through the ebb and flow of seasonal droughts. Jacob lived some 1,300 years before Jesus. Every day for 1,300 years that well was a source of life, it was a social center, it was a site where people stopped to be refreshed, and it was all made possible by one person’s stewardship.
What have you done that will endure as a service to others? What can you do now that will support the common good, and not only now, but long after you are gone?
It is easy for us to think about that small town, elderly woman and dream of all the things she could have done with her wealth. It is a little more challenging for people with means closer to our level to imagine we too can make a difference. What we can contribute is just a drop in the bucket, but some buckets get filled up that way… one drop at a time.
Last week we joined with Episcopal churches throughout our country in a project called ‘Hope for Haiti,’ which seeks to rebuild the cathedral devastated in last year’s earthquake… and to rebuild it one brick at a time, $10 a brick. Here at St. Paul’s, our goal is to raise money for 300 bricks. Every one of us here this morning has the capacity to be a part of this legacy.
Here at St. Paul’s, over the course of this month, a plumber has come to evaluate all of the church’s water-using fixtures and to make repairs, a roofer has inspected the gutters and will fix leaks, and a new air-conditioning unit is going to be installed to serve the offices. The to-do list around here never ends. Some people grit their teeth when they see the maintenance line item in our annual budget. Couldn’t that money be used for something better than upkeep on this old building? Well, yes and no. Our facilities are a legacy and heritage from the past and every penny we put in to them guarantees that this will be a center of mission and prayer for decades to come. We don’t know what Jacob’s well looked like, but if it used a bucket and a rope to draw water, you can be sure that both needed to be repaired and replaced more than once over 1,300 years. It was up to each successive generation of the people of Sychar to make sure Jacob’s gift kept on giving.
One summer when I was in college I laid cement, mostly for sidewalks. When I go back to that town I can still drive past houses where I did a job and see the work I did. It is a legacy of sorts, but it is not much nor is it very impressive. Certainly, 1,300 years from now there will be no trace of what I did. I am OK with that and I’ll tell you why.
When I hear today’s gospel reading I recognize that some legacies take a material form – a building, a work of art, perhaps a composition of poetry – that will endure across the ages. Other legacies are financial – gifts given that properly stewarded will yield income in perpetuity. But some legacies are of the heart. There is no way to measure them. There is no way to trace their impact. But their value is real, even if it is unseen.
Here we gather 2,000 years later, and Jacob’s well is an afterthought. I don’t even know if it exists any more. But today people all over the world are gathering in Christian churches to hear again the conversation between Jesus – the Lord of life – and woman who went to a well to draw water. Yes, she filled up her water jars, but even more she drank of the water of Life. Jesus touched her in a way that created a legacy of the heart. It is a gift that does not show up on a balance sheet. You cannot put a plaque next to it for all to read. It is spiritual, but it endures, doesn’t it.
No matter who you are, no matter what your means, you have the capacity to leave this kind of legacy; perhaps with your children, or with your friends, of with the members of your church, or with the most desperately needy people in town. When I think back to those monthly conversations with that elderly woman, I now understand she was telling me something very important, but I didn’t recognize it at the time. The thing that was so crippling for her was not that she was old, not that she was ill, and not that she was alone – although being alone was an important clue. Her struggle had everything to do with the belief she no longer could touch the heart of another. She had no one to comfort, no one to support, no one encourage. She believed there was no one who could benefit from what she had to offer, and thus she was ready to move on.
So, about a reading that I could preach on for a month and not exhaust all it has to offer, let me say just two things. First, you can do something with your resources that will bless and refresh generations to come. And second, whenever we gather with another person we always touch each other, even if ever so lightly, so that some trace of the encounter transforms our hearts and souls in a way that endures. Legacies of our hands and legacies of our hearts move this world ever so closer to God’s dream for all people.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Blessing as a Call to Mission
Let me publically thank that paragon of spirituality, Carrington Pinner, for inviting me to be a part of his on-line NCAA bracket tournament. As of this morning, I am in first place with Carrington & his friends nowhere to be seen. Most people in this country can’t get enough of these bracket challenges. Currently there are contests to determine our favorite candy, rock band, and female entertainer over forty (known as ‘cougars’). There is even a competition to determine the most popular saint. In the opening round, C.S. Lewis is squaring off against Augustine’s mother, Monica, Patrick is up against someone named Constance (that should be a blow out), and William Wilberforce (who led the movement to abolish slavery) is up against Chad (a humble and popular bishop who served various dioceses in northern England). All told, 32 saints are in the running for this year’s Golden Hallo award, won last year by the English priest and poet George Herbert.
All of this got me to thinking it would be interesting to set up a bible verse bracket challenge. If you had four regions, surely strong contenders for top seeds would be these:
• The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,
• Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,
• What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God
• And, from today’s reading… For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not parish but have eternal life.
John 3:16. It is iconic, made famous by the man with rainbow hair who put it on a poster board and managed to get himself on TV at an incredible number of sporting events. It has been called ‘the gospel in a nutshell.’ I remember my youth minister preaching on this verse years ago. He said it was the greatest verse in the bible:
• For God - God, the greatest Being there is,
• so loved - the greatest virtue,
• the world - the greatest thing God has created,
• that he gave - giving, the greatest act,
• His Son- the greatest gift,
• that whoever - the greatest number of people possible,
• believes - the greatest act of faith,
• in Him - the greatest certainty,
• should not perish - the greatest fear,
• but have everlasting life - the greatest hope and end.
Yes, I think John 3:16 could go deep into the tournament. The next verse, John 3:17, is kind of like the younger brother whose high school exploits never quite match the achievements of his three-sport star, valedictorian, older brother. But in my mind, it is always linked with the verse before it:
“For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”
Taken together these two verses form a very powerful narrative about the Christian faith and empower us with a sense of mission. By narrative, I mean they give us the Gospel in a nutshell and by mission I mean that they give us something to do. Yes, God sent the Son into the world to save the world, but we - the Church - are now Christ’s body and thus the agents through which God’s love for the world is manifested.
The Church has not always read the bible in this way. There was a time when we heard it say that God offers salvation to all and those of us who respond in the ‘right way’ are then blessed. Those who do not respond or who do not respond in the ‘right way’ are forever cursed. Some thinkers even took this to the extreme of holding God decides who will respond correctly and who will not.
This notion is rooted in a misunderstanding of the Genesis story where God chooses Abraham from all the people of the earth. More and more, as we read the bible we are noticing that God did so not so much give to Abraham an exclusive blessing, but gave him a special mission. “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great so that you will be a blessing.” “In you,” God tells Abraham, “all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” From the beginning, God establishes a direct link between blessing and sending; between choosing and mission. God gives to Abraham, not because he is special or better or deserving, but because God wants him to spread God’s blessing to all people.
In some Christian circles there is a notion that faith is a one-on-one thing; something between God and the individual. Perhaps the best analogy to this relates to the stuff that keeps showing up in my mailbox, like ads for replacement windows. The offer comes to me on a regular basis as it comes to every house on the block. Most often I do what everyone else does, I throw it away without even opening it. But every now and then, someone opens that letter, reads it, and signs up for new windows. Some people understand God’s work of salvation to be like this. God’s offer comes to each one of us individually over and over again, but most ignore it. Those few who sign up will be blessed and rewarded. Those who don’t, well, they are going to have a very long, hot, unpleasant eternity, one which in my mind at least probably involves a Starbucks.
Thankfully, this old paradigm is passing away to one more akin perhaps to a parade. If God’s love is like a parade, then you and I are invited to join in. You can march or dance or sing or be on a float or ride your horse or petal your bike or drive one of those crazy little cars or do anything else that makes the parade of God’s blessing known to the world. The point is we are called into the parade of God’s love and we are to take this parade to all people, blessing them and inviting them to join us. You see, blessing as a call to mission.
Today we are launching a new short-term, outreach project here at St. Paul’s. We are raising money to help rebuild Holy Trinity Cathedral in Port-au-Prince, Haiti one brick at a time, $10 a brick. This is an effort of the entire Episcopal Church because the Diocese of Haiti is the largest diocese in our church and because its many churches and schools, destroyed in last year’s earthquake, were great mission centers of God’s love for a desperately needy country. In a very real sense, rebuilding the church in Haiti is rebuilding the country.
Our goal here at St. Paul’s is to raise enough money for 300 bricks. I want to challenge each of you not just to write a check, but to do something to ‘earn’ $10. I have several buttons I need sowed. I’ll pay someone to do it. Do you have a ceiling lightbulb that needs changed or a smoke detector that needs a new battery? I’ll come to your house and do it for a dollar a bulb or battery. Call or e-mail the office either with something you need done or something you can do. We’ll post a list that you can check out each week. I’ll gladly buy a batch of homemade, chocolate chip cookies for $10 – hint, hint. If your name is Carrington Pinner, for $10 I’ll give you advice on filling out your bracket. You can check out the bulletin board in the Parish Hall for more information about this project. You can also talk to Roy Waller who I have asked to spearhead it, or call Amy in the office during the week. She has done a lot of legwork on the project with him.
I don’t know about you, but for me, I am not very excited about a Christian theology that espouses elitism – a notion that we who believe are somehow special, somehow above everyone else. I do get excited about a theology of mission – an understanding that we who have responded to God’s call have been given a dynamic, life-changing, fulfilling purpose. We are agents of God’s love for the world, seizing one opportunity after another to demonstrate the great compassion that gave the Son, not to condemn, but to save.
All of this got me to thinking it would be interesting to set up a bible verse bracket challenge. If you had four regions, surely strong contenders for top seeds would be these:
• The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,
• Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,
• What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God
• And, from today’s reading… For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not parish but have eternal life.
John 3:16. It is iconic, made famous by the man with rainbow hair who put it on a poster board and managed to get himself on TV at an incredible number of sporting events. It has been called ‘the gospel in a nutshell.’ I remember my youth minister preaching on this verse years ago. He said it was the greatest verse in the bible:
• For God - God, the greatest Being there is,
• so loved - the greatest virtue,
• the world - the greatest thing God has created,
• that he gave - giving, the greatest act,
• His Son- the greatest gift,
• that whoever - the greatest number of people possible,
• believes - the greatest act of faith,
• in Him - the greatest certainty,
• should not perish - the greatest fear,
• but have everlasting life - the greatest hope and end.
Yes, I think John 3:16 could go deep into the tournament. The next verse, John 3:17, is kind of like the younger brother whose high school exploits never quite match the achievements of his three-sport star, valedictorian, older brother. But in my mind, it is always linked with the verse before it:
“For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”
Taken together these two verses form a very powerful narrative about the Christian faith and empower us with a sense of mission. By narrative, I mean they give us the Gospel in a nutshell and by mission I mean that they give us something to do. Yes, God sent the Son into the world to save the world, but we - the Church - are now Christ’s body and thus the agents through which God’s love for the world is manifested.
The Church has not always read the bible in this way. There was a time when we heard it say that God offers salvation to all and those of us who respond in the ‘right way’ are then blessed. Those who do not respond or who do not respond in the ‘right way’ are forever cursed. Some thinkers even took this to the extreme of holding God decides who will respond correctly and who will not.
This notion is rooted in a misunderstanding of the Genesis story where God chooses Abraham from all the people of the earth. More and more, as we read the bible we are noticing that God did so not so much give to Abraham an exclusive blessing, but gave him a special mission. “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great so that you will be a blessing.” “In you,” God tells Abraham, “all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” From the beginning, God establishes a direct link between blessing and sending; between choosing and mission. God gives to Abraham, not because he is special or better or deserving, but because God wants him to spread God’s blessing to all people.
In some Christian circles there is a notion that faith is a one-on-one thing; something between God and the individual. Perhaps the best analogy to this relates to the stuff that keeps showing up in my mailbox, like ads for replacement windows. The offer comes to me on a regular basis as it comes to every house on the block. Most often I do what everyone else does, I throw it away without even opening it. But every now and then, someone opens that letter, reads it, and signs up for new windows. Some people understand God’s work of salvation to be like this. God’s offer comes to each one of us individually over and over again, but most ignore it. Those few who sign up will be blessed and rewarded. Those who don’t, well, they are going to have a very long, hot, unpleasant eternity, one which in my mind at least probably involves a Starbucks.
Thankfully, this old paradigm is passing away to one more akin perhaps to a parade. If God’s love is like a parade, then you and I are invited to join in. You can march or dance or sing or be on a float or ride your horse or petal your bike or drive one of those crazy little cars or do anything else that makes the parade of God’s blessing known to the world. The point is we are called into the parade of God’s love and we are to take this parade to all people, blessing them and inviting them to join us. You see, blessing as a call to mission.
Today we are launching a new short-term, outreach project here at St. Paul’s. We are raising money to help rebuild Holy Trinity Cathedral in Port-au-Prince, Haiti one brick at a time, $10 a brick. This is an effort of the entire Episcopal Church because the Diocese of Haiti is the largest diocese in our church and because its many churches and schools, destroyed in last year’s earthquake, were great mission centers of God’s love for a desperately needy country. In a very real sense, rebuilding the church in Haiti is rebuilding the country.
Our goal here at St. Paul’s is to raise enough money for 300 bricks. I want to challenge each of you not just to write a check, but to do something to ‘earn’ $10. I have several buttons I need sowed. I’ll pay someone to do it. Do you have a ceiling lightbulb that needs changed or a smoke detector that needs a new battery? I’ll come to your house and do it for a dollar a bulb or battery. Call or e-mail the office either with something you need done or something you can do. We’ll post a list that you can check out each week. I’ll gladly buy a batch of homemade, chocolate chip cookies for $10 – hint, hint. If your name is Carrington Pinner, for $10 I’ll give you advice on filling out your bracket. You can check out the bulletin board in the Parish Hall for more information about this project. You can also talk to Roy Waller who I have asked to spearhead it, or call Amy in the office during the week. She has done a lot of legwork on the project with him.
I don’t know about you, but for me, I am not very excited about a Christian theology that espouses elitism – a notion that we who believe are somehow special, somehow above everyone else. I do get excited about a theology of mission – an understanding that we who have responded to God’s call have been given a dynamic, life-changing, fulfilling purpose. We are agents of God’s love for the world, seizing one opportunity after another to demonstrate the great compassion that gave the Son, not to condemn, but to save.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Wrongly Handling the Word of Truth
Being an American is an immense privilege that provides us with many blessings and opportunities; but these blessings and opportunities come at a cost. Take free speech for example. If I am going to be afforded the constitutional right to express myself then I must defend the right of others to express themselves, even (and especially if) I am deeply offended by what they say. This reality hit home again recently when the Supreme Court ruled 8-1 that members of the Westboro Baptist Church have a constitutional right to picket funerals of fallen soldiers.
The Kansas church, with its leader Fred Phelps and a small membership drawn largely from his family, has been picketing and protesting for some time. They where present at the funeral of Matthew Shepard, the Wyoming youth who was beaten to death because he was a homosexual. Westboro members sported sign that read “God Hates Fags.” They were present at the 2008 funeral of Gordon Hinckley, president of the Mormon Church where their signs proclaimed, among other things, “God Hates False Prophets.” They were present at the funeral of Michael Jackson and used the occasion to record a take-off on the song “We are the world”; their version… “God Hates the World.” Ever the opportunists, Westboro members showed up for the funeral of Christine Green, the 9-year-old girl killed in the Tucson shootings. They have demonstrated against Jews and Catholics and have disrupted several Episcopal services by throwing blood on worshipers as they entered the church.
In 2006 they picketed the funeral of Matthew Snyder, a U.S. marine killed in Iraq. “Thank God for Dead Marines” one sign read. Another “God Hates the Marines.” It is their view that God is killing our service men and women because God is angry with American’s lax view on issues like abortion, homosexuality, and tolerance of other religions. Matthew’s father, Albert Snyder, was deeply offended by the church’s actions and filed a law suit against them. The case went all the way to the Supreme Court where freedom of speech was upheld. Thankfully, freedom of speech means that you and I can also gather at events targeted by Westboro Church and more and more hundreds of people do just that; forming a protective wall around grieving family members so that hate-filled signs and chants are obscured.
I know that we gathered here this morning hold to a wide variety of opinions on various social issues, but there is something very sobering about seeing photographs and videos of placard-carrying ‘Christians’ with signs that read “God Hates Fags,” “God Hates Marines,” “God Hates Jews,” “God Hates America,” and “God Hates the World.” Are you like me when you see this? Do you wonder how a person can read the bible and do such a thing?
Two of our readings this morning highlight the perils associated with understanding God’s word to us and communicating to others. In the passage from Genesis we hear again the very familiar Garden story. God charges the man to till and keep the garden and then says,
“You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day you eat it you shall surely die.”
So along comes the serpent who probes the woman’s understanding by asking,
“Did God really say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?”
Notice that God did not speak directly to the woman, but to the man. It follows then that the man passed on God’s command to the woman. The serpent’s testing has everything to do with the woman’s understanding of God’s word as she has received it from the man. And how does she respond?
“We may eat from the fruit of the trees in the garden; but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.”
Well, two things in her understanding are different from what God actually said to the man. What God called ‘the tree of the knowledge of good and evil’ the woman now calls ‘the tree in the middle of the garden’. And to the prohibition not to eat the fruit of this tree she has added “you shall not touch it.” Is this what the man told her God said, or has she made these changes on her own? Either way, through these small, but deeply symbolic details the garden story highlights the difficult nature of knowing God’s word and the disastrous effects of getting it wrong.
From today’s Gospel reading we hear again the familiar story of the temptation. After forty days of fasting in the wilderness the one who tests comes to Jesus with three temptations. Jesus resists all three by quoting Scripture. But notice how in the second temptation the devil also quotes God’s word:
“If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”
The devil was not the first person to pick and choose from the bible, taking literally what suited his intentions, nor would he be the last.
The text is very interesting when it says that after Jesus was baptized he was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted (or tested) by the devil. This is the first time Jesus is tested, but it won’t be the last. Throughout Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus encounters various religious figures who ‘test’ Him, challenging His actions by throwing pieces and parts of the bible at Him. Time and time again Jesus refutes their narrow (and often times literal) understanding of the bible; saying in effect, “You can quote it, but you don’t understand it and you don’t seem to want to live it.”
I find it intriguing that God’s Spirit would lead Jesus into temptation. He knew first hand how difficult this experience is because when He taught His disciples how to pray, He included, “Led us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Well, I doubt it is God’s Spirit who leads us to those places where our flesh is tempted. We can do that well enough on our own, thank you. But God’s Spirit can and does lead us to the place of testing where we confront others and allow ourselves to be confronted with God’s word. Surely we are still trying to discern God’s unfolding dream for all people. Surely we are still trying to comprehend the magnitude of God’s love. How and when do we add addendums like “and you can not touch it” to what God has revealed? How and when do we take what God has said and make it out to be something else? How and when do we pick and choose from the bible what we will take literally at the exclusion of the totality of Scripture’s thrust and witness?
Thank God the Spirit has led the Church into temptation, otherwise Gentiles would be considered unworthy of the Gospel (with bible verses to back it up), Jews would be persecuted for killing Jesus (with bible verse to back it up), slavery would be an acceptable institution (with bible verses to back it up), women would be marginalized in society and in the Church (with bible verses to back it up), divorced people would be driven from the Church (with bible verses to back it up), women who give birth out of wedlock would be stoned (with bible verses to back it up), homosexuals and lesbians would be executed (with bible verses to back it up), and people of other faith traditions would be consigned to an eternity of hellfire and damnation (with bible verses to back it up). Thank God that the Spirit has led us to test our understanding of God’s word and will. Thank God that the kingdom of God is emerging in our midst.
The thing that is so sobering about the Westboro Baptist Church is that you can read a verse of the bible here and verse of the bible there and absolutely justify everything they say and do. But the reality is that you cannot read the whole of Scripture and come to the conclusion that they are doing God’s work. Sadly self-deceived, they employ the bible in much the same way the Tempter used it on Jesus.
If you read the bible with a small, narrow, and hate-filled heart your will surely find a god who conforms to your small, narrow, and hate-filled ways. If you read the bible with an open, generous, and loving heart you will find God to be even more open and generous and loving than you imagine. When I read the bible I hear the story of God’s unfolding dream as it has been lived out through a people who have struggled to understand God’ compassionate and merciful ways. Yes, we have struggled, but we are moving in the right direction; moving toward the Kingdom of God. If you are repulsed by the hateful signs and chants of the Westboro Church, then you too are on the right path. Let’s pray to God asking the Spirit to help us pick up the pace.
The Kansas church, with its leader Fred Phelps and a small membership drawn largely from his family, has been picketing and protesting for some time. They where present at the funeral of Matthew Shepard, the Wyoming youth who was beaten to death because he was a homosexual. Westboro members sported sign that read “God Hates Fags.” They were present at the 2008 funeral of Gordon Hinckley, president of the Mormon Church where their signs proclaimed, among other things, “God Hates False Prophets.” They were present at the funeral of Michael Jackson and used the occasion to record a take-off on the song “We are the world”; their version… “God Hates the World.” Ever the opportunists, Westboro members showed up for the funeral of Christine Green, the 9-year-old girl killed in the Tucson shootings. They have demonstrated against Jews and Catholics and have disrupted several Episcopal services by throwing blood on worshipers as they entered the church.
In 2006 they picketed the funeral of Matthew Snyder, a U.S. marine killed in Iraq. “Thank God for Dead Marines” one sign read. Another “God Hates the Marines.” It is their view that God is killing our service men and women because God is angry with American’s lax view on issues like abortion, homosexuality, and tolerance of other religions. Matthew’s father, Albert Snyder, was deeply offended by the church’s actions and filed a law suit against them. The case went all the way to the Supreme Court where freedom of speech was upheld. Thankfully, freedom of speech means that you and I can also gather at events targeted by Westboro Church and more and more hundreds of people do just that; forming a protective wall around grieving family members so that hate-filled signs and chants are obscured.
I know that we gathered here this morning hold to a wide variety of opinions on various social issues, but there is something very sobering about seeing photographs and videos of placard-carrying ‘Christians’ with signs that read “God Hates Fags,” “God Hates Marines,” “God Hates Jews,” “God Hates America,” and “God Hates the World.” Are you like me when you see this? Do you wonder how a person can read the bible and do such a thing?
Two of our readings this morning highlight the perils associated with understanding God’s word to us and communicating to others. In the passage from Genesis we hear again the very familiar Garden story. God charges the man to till and keep the garden and then says,
“You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day you eat it you shall surely die.”
So along comes the serpent who probes the woman’s understanding by asking,
“Did God really say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?”
Notice that God did not speak directly to the woman, but to the man. It follows then that the man passed on God’s command to the woman. The serpent’s testing has everything to do with the woman’s understanding of God’s word as she has received it from the man. And how does she respond?
“We may eat from the fruit of the trees in the garden; but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.”
Well, two things in her understanding are different from what God actually said to the man. What God called ‘the tree of the knowledge of good and evil’ the woman now calls ‘the tree in the middle of the garden’. And to the prohibition not to eat the fruit of this tree she has added “you shall not touch it.” Is this what the man told her God said, or has she made these changes on her own? Either way, through these small, but deeply symbolic details the garden story highlights the difficult nature of knowing God’s word and the disastrous effects of getting it wrong.
From today’s Gospel reading we hear again the familiar story of the temptation. After forty days of fasting in the wilderness the one who tests comes to Jesus with three temptations. Jesus resists all three by quoting Scripture. But notice how in the second temptation the devil also quotes God’s word:
“If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”
The devil was not the first person to pick and choose from the bible, taking literally what suited his intentions, nor would he be the last.
The text is very interesting when it says that after Jesus was baptized he was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted (or tested) by the devil. This is the first time Jesus is tested, but it won’t be the last. Throughout Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus encounters various religious figures who ‘test’ Him, challenging His actions by throwing pieces and parts of the bible at Him. Time and time again Jesus refutes their narrow (and often times literal) understanding of the bible; saying in effect, “You can quote it, but you don’t understand it and you don’t seem to want to live it.”
I find it intriguing that God’s Spirit would lead Jesus into temptation. He knew first hand how difficult this experience is because when He taught His disciples how to pray, He included, “Led us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Well, I doubt it is God’s Spirit who leads us to those places where our flesh is tempted. We can do that well enough on our own, thank you. But God’s Spirit can and does lead us to the place of testing where we confront others and allow ourselves to be confronted with God’s word. Surely we are still trying to discern God’s unfolding dream for all people. Surely we are still trying to comprehend the magnitude of God’s love. How and when do we add addendums like “and you can not touch it” to what God has revealed? How and when do we take what God has said and make it out to be something else? How and when do we pick and choose from the bible what we will take literally at the exclusion of the totality of Scripture’s thrust and witness?
Thank God the Spirit has led the Church into temptation, otherwise Gentiles would be considered unworthy of the Gospel (with bible verses to back it up), Jews would be persecuted for killing Jesus (with bible verse to back it up), slavery would be an acceptable institution (with bible verses to back it up), women would be marginalized in society and in the Church (with bible verses to back it up), divorced people would be driven from the Church (with bible verses to back it up), women who give birth out of wedlock would be stoned (with bible verses to back it up), homosexuals and lesbians would be executed (with bible verses to back it up), and people of other faith traditions would be consigned to an eternity of hellfire and damnation (with bible verses to back it up). Thank God that the Spirit has led us to test our understanding of God’s word and will. Thank God that the kingdom of God is emerging in our midst.
The thing that is so sobering about the Westboro Baptist Church is that you can read a verse of the bible here and verse of the bible there and absolutely justify everything they say and do. But the reality is that you cannot read the whole of Scripture and come to the conclusion that they are doing God’s work. Sadly self-deceived, they employ the bible in much the same way the Tempter used it on Jesus.
If you read the bible with a small, narrow, and hate-filled heart your will surely find a god who conforms to your small, narrow, and hate-filled ways. If you read the bible with an open, generous, and loving heart you will find God to be even more open and generous and loving than you imagine. When I read the bible I hear the story of God’s unfolding dream as it has been lived out through a people who have struggled to understand God’ compassionate and merciful ways. Yes, we have struggled, but we are moving in the right direction; moving toward the Kingdom of God. If you are repulsed by the hateful signs and chants of the Westboro Church, then you too are on the right path. Let’s pray to God asking the Spirit to help us pick up the pace.
Monday, March 7, 2011
A Rush to Discernment
In pulpits all across America this morning, in parishes where the Lectionary is practiced, preachers will be giving Peter a pounding (but not with pickled-peppers). He is one of three people to accompany Jesus on a hike up a mountain. He is one of three to observe Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah, foundational figures in the faith long ago deceased. He is one of three to witness the Transfiguration, where for a brief moment our Lord’s divine nature eclipses His human body. But he is the only one to say something to try to make sense of it all. Let’s give Peter credit for perceiving the gravity of what was happening. Indeed, this was a momentous event. Building a shrine to commemorate it was certainly an option worth considering. But Peter ends up on the receiving end of a holy, verbal beat-down: “This is my Son. He was around before creation was called forth. Don’t you think it might be a good idea to get His input!”
And what does Jesus say the disciples should do? He directs them not to tell anyone about it – not a word – until after He has risen from the dead. We might want to consider that Peter’s blunder here was a rush to discernment. He wanted to act before he had absorbed. He wanted to respond before he had reflected. He wanted to enshrine before he understood. He would have been very much at home in our contemporary society with its go-go-go-tweet-comment-send-as-quick-as-you-can approach to life. We too are impatience and impetuous. We act first, dive in, and dash ahead pretty much all the time. Have many times have we thought or said, “I should have stopped and thought about before I did it?”
If the rush to discernment was Peter’ faux paus in this situation, Mary, the mother of Jesus, models the other end of the spectrum. You remember the Christmas story: how an angel appears to her and tells her she will have a son even though she is chaste; how they travel to Bethlehem for the census and the baby is born in a small animal shed because she and Joseph could not find more suitable lodging; and how shepherds appeared in the night to worship the child, telling fantastic tales of an angelic chorus. Do you remember Mary’s response to all of this? She did not suggest that Joseph, a carpenter by trade, might want to convert the barn into a shrine. Scripture says she “treasured these things, pondering them in her heart.” Pondering – the opposite of rushing to discernment.
In the long history of our Christian tradition, discernment is thought to have two major components: attentiveness and discrimination.
Early on, if a person was said to be spiritual, it meant he or she was under the power of God’s Spirit. Even still, a spiritual person understood there were other spirits vying for his/her attention. Some of these are the spirits of the world: those aspects of our culture not aligned with God’s purpose. Others are spirits of the flesh, which include bodily addictions as well aspects of the personality (being self-centered, anxious, or hateful for example). And still other spirits come from the “evil one” as active forces intentionally working against God’s good. (Pay attention to today’s baptism where I will ask the parents and sponsors to renounce Satan, the world, and the self.)
If we are going to avoid a rush to discernment then one thing we must do is take time to be attentive, to look deep within our selves in order to sort out the various motivations for our thoughts and actions. As we pay attention to what is going on around us we need to understand what it going on within us. Our first impulse, a lingering sentiment, and sometimes even a nagging thought are not reflective of God’s desire; they are not always the fruit of God’s Spirit. A few years ago, Win Lewis got my attention when he said this: “More and more we are finding that the single most important characteristic required for a person to be a good priest is self-awareness” – being conscious of who you are and what makes you tick so that you do not act out unaware of how your inner world projects itself on the outer world.
The other component of discernment is discrimination. Developing the capacity to pay attention is important. It helps you to know be aware of all that is happing on the inside and the out. Discrimination is about sifting through and evaluating all that you have gathered through focused attention. We have many allies to help us with this work. We can turn to Scripture. We can seek out the advice of a trusted friend or mentor. We can engage the sensus fidelium – the collected sense of the faithful. We can immerse ourselves in the best writing of our current day as well as the works of saints and sages from the past. We can pray. Discrimination is not the same thing as problem solving or weighing the pros and cons. One writer says it is more like when a flower turns itself to face the sun. Don’t understand that image? Live with it for a while and see what emerges.
Peter must have learned something from the events we read about today because some time after the Resurrection and after the Ascension and after Pentecost, Peter finds himself in a costal city staying with a person named Simon the tanner. Its noon and Peter goes to prayer, but he is hungry. He falls into a trance and has a vision of (for lack of better words) a picnic coming down from heaven. God invites him to go ahead and eat, but Peter protests that the meal consists entirely of food Jews are commanded not to eat. God says in reply, “No one must call unclean what I call clean.” Peter awakes and the text says he is puzzled.
At that very moment, representatives of a Roman centurion by the name of Cornelius arrive at Simon’s house. Cornelius was a devout Gentile who wanted to honor God. Days before an angel instructed him to send for Peter. When his emissaries explain their mission, Peter agrees to meet with Cornelius. Once there the two men talk. Peter preaches the Gospel, but he is concerned that his message should only be shared with the children of Israel. Then an astounding thing happens. The Holy Spirit falls on Cornelius and his family just as it had fallen on Peter and the others at Pentecost. Now apostle knows what he must do. He baptizes all who are present into the Christian faith and life.
This time Peter does not rush to discernment. He lives with what puzzles him for several days. Only once all the elements have unfolded and come into focus does Peter speak and act. He has been both attentive and discriminating.
I have found that discernment is both a gift of God’s Spirit and a spiritual discipline I have developed over the course of my life. I am not perfect at it by any means, but do I sense I am better at it now then I was years ago. A part of my prayer life is devoted to reflecting on what is happening in my world and in my being: what am I seeing, what am I missing, what is all of it doing to me, how am I affecting what is happening? And as awareness sets in discrimination begins: what are my options, what is consistent with my sense of integrity, what will give me energy or joy or peace, what is God’s will? Shrines shouldn’t be built at the drop of a hat and when it comes to weighty matters discernment should not be rushed.
And what does Jesus say the disciples should do? He directs them not to tell anyone about it – not a word – until after He has risen from the dead. We might want to consider that Peter’s blunder here was a rush to discernment. He wanted to act before he had absorbed. He wanted to respond before he had reflected. He wanted to enshrine before he understood. He would have been very much at home in our contemporary society with its go-go-go-tweet-comment-send-as-quick-as-you-can approach to life. We too are impatience and impetuous. We act first, dive in, and dash ahead pretty much all the time. Have many times have we thought or said, “I should have stopped and thought about before I did it?”
If the rush to discernment was Peter’ faux paus in this situation, Mary, the mother of Jesus, models the other end of the spectrum. You remember the Christmas story: how an angel appears to her and tells her she will have a son even though she is chaste; how they travel to Bethlehem for the census and the baby is born in a small animal shed because she and Joseph could not find more suitable lodging; and how shepherds appeared in the night to worship the child, telling fantastic tales of an angelic chorus. Do you remember Mary’s response to all of this? She did not suggest that Joseph, a carpenter by trade, might want to convert the barn into a shrine. Scripture says she “treasured these things, pondering them in her heart.” Pondering – the opposite of rushing to discernment.
In the long history of our Christian tradition, discernment is thought to have two major components: attentiveness and discrimination.
Early on, if a person was said to be spiritual, it meant he or she was under the power of God’s Spirit. Even still, a spiritual person understood there were other spirits vying for his/her attention. Some of these are the spirits of the world: those aspects of our culture not aligned with God’s purpose. Others are spirits of the flesh, which include bodily addictions as well aspects of the personality (being self-centered, anxious, or hateful for example). And still other spirits come from the “evil one” as active forces intentionally working against God’s good. (Pay attention to today’s baptism where I will ask the parents and sponsors to renounce Satan, the world, and the self.)
If we are going to avoid a rush to discernment then one thing we must do is take time to be attentive, to look deep within our selves in order to sort out the various motivations for our thoughts and actions. As we pay attention to what is going on around us we need to understand what it going on within us. Our first impulse, a lingering sentiment, and sometimes even a nagging thought are not reflective of God’s desire; they are not always the fruit of God’s Spirit. A few years ago, Win Lewis got my attention when he said this: “More and more we are finding that the single most important characteristic required for a person to be a good priest is self-awareness” – being conscious of who you are and what makes you tick so that you do not act out unaware of how your inner world projects itself on the outer world.
The other component of discernment is discrimination. Developing the capacity to pay attention is important. It helps you to know be aware of all that is happing on the inside and the out. Discrimination is about sifting through and evaluating all that you have gathered through focused attention. We have many allies to help us with this work. We can turn to Scripture. We can seek out the advice of a trusted friend or mentor. We can engage the sensus fidelium – the collected sense of the faithful. We can immerse ourselves in the best writing of our current day as well as the works of saints and sages from the past. We can pray. Discrimination is not the same thing as problem solving or weighing the pros and cons. One writer says it is more like when a flower turns itself to face the sun. Don’t understand that image? Live with it for a while and see what emerges.
Peter must have learned something from the events we read about today because some time after the Resurrection and after the Ascension and after Pentecost, Peter finds himself in a costal city staying with a person named Simon the tanner. Its noon and Peter goes to prayer, but he is hungry. He falls into a trance and has a vision of (for lack of better words) a picnic coming down from heaven. God invites him to go ahead and eat, but Peter protests that the meal consists entirely of food Jews are commanded not to eat. God says in reply, “No one must call unclean what I call clean.” Peter awakes and the text says he is puzzled.
At that very moment, representatives of a Roman centurion by the name of Cornelius arrive at Simon’s house. Cornelius was a devout Gentile who wanted to honor God. Days before an angel instructed him to send for Peter. When his emissaries explain their mission, Peter agrees to meet with Cornelius. Once there the two men talk. Peter preaches the Gospel, but he is concerned that his message should only be shared with the children of Israel. Then an astounding thing happens. The Holy Spirit falls on Cornelius and his family just as it had fallen on Peter and the others at Pentecost. Now apostle knows what he must do. He baptizes all who are present into the Christian faith and life.
This time Peter does not rush to discernment. He lives with what puzzles him for several days. Only once all the elements have unfolded and come into focus does Peter speak and act. He has been both attentive and discriminating.
I have found that discernment is both a gift of God’s Spirit and a spiritual discipline I have developed over the course of my life. I am not perfect at it by any means, but do I sense I am better at it now then I was years ago. A part of my prayer life is devoted to reflecting on what is happening in my world and in my being: what am I seeing, what am I missing, what is all of it doing to me, how am I affecting what is happening? And as awareness sets in discrimination begins: what are my options, what is consistent with my sense of integrity, what will give me energy or joy or peace, what is God’s will? Shrines shouldn’t be built at the drop of a hat and when it comes to weighty matters discernment should not be rushed.
Monday, February 28, 2011
The Rule on Poverty
Last week I told you a story about a crooked landlord, so how about we change gears and begin this week with a lawyer. I attended a stewardship conference in the early 90’s where the keynote speaker recalled an event that happened when he was consulting with a vestry. He was with them to talk about stewardship and one aspect of his focus was the biblical notion of the Tithe. He went through scripture after scripture which indicate the starting point for our offering to God is 10% (or the tithe) of our wealth.
Throughout the presentation, one gentleman’s body language became more and more agitated. Finally he spoke up. “I am a lawyer,” he said, “and I make $400,000 a year.” Now that is pretty good money today, but twenty-five years ago it was really good money. “So, based on what you are saying,” the lawyer continued, “I should be giving away $40,000 a year.” “That’s right,” the speaker said, “That would be your tithe.” “Well,” the lawyer responded, “I can’t afford it.” He went on to detail how he had two mortgages, five car payments, three boat loans, college tuition, personal expenses, and on and on and on. In fact, when you tallied all of the lawyer’s financial obligations, he was actually spending more than he was making. The speaker tried to show him how scaling back could help him live within his means, focus on what is essential, be able to offer more to charity, and generally have more peace of mind, but – in the end – the lawyer would have none of it.
That story always comes back to me when I hear the words of Jesus we read just moments ago:
“You cannot serve two masters… You cannot love God and money.”
I have to confess that this teaching brings out all of my most effective defense mechanisms:
• Sure, I have some money, but there are lots of people who are wealthier than me. Obviously Jesus must be talking about them.
• Okay, I have possessions, but I am not dripping with stuff like person X over there.
•And, my new favorite, a significant portion of my tithe is distributed by Uncle Sam.
Somewhere in all these responses, I have lost sight of the truth that Jesus does not heap burdensome commands on us just to test our faithfulness, but rather as a Guide points us toward the path of life; which is to say there is wisdom in what Jesus says that blesses all who heed it. Rather than insolate ourselves from it, we should want to explore it, understand it, and incorporate it into our lives.
Before I was ordained a deacon and before I was ordained a priest, I made silent retreats with the Cowley Fathers, members of the Society of St. John the Evangelist whose monastic community is located on the Charles River just off Harvard Square in Boston. Each member of the community makes the typical monastic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Now, I would have thought that this would make the brothers something wholly other, different from life as I know it, and unrelated to the world as I experience. In fact, what I found was a group of people who were very much engaged with the world and who, better than me, seemed to have figured out what life is all about. They are not perfect, but they are striving to live into the wisdom that Jesus offers through His teaching.
The Cowley Fathers are guided by a Rule of Life, which speaks to the various vows they make. The Rule says that the brothers embrace poverty as a way of relating to God whose self-giving is seen in the calling forth of creation, in the incarnation of Jesus Christ (through which the Rule says “God broke all the limits of generosity”), and in the Cross, which is the ultimate expression of God’s self-giving nature. Each brother takes a vow of poverty in order to be bound to the same self-emptying nature we find in God. The Rule states that the vow of poverty creates space for God to fill each brother with the richness he needs to give himself away in “a common life of worship, hospitality, evangelism, and service.”
So here is the first insight the Rule offers to us: Either we can focus our life on the Creator or we can focus it on the creation. Think of it this way: When I attended the NSA Art Show I saw several of Betsy Brother’s paintings on display and then I ran into Betsey herself. Now Betsey’s paintings are very nice, but if all I knew of her were her paintings my life would be poorer. Wouldn’t it be strange if I ran around from show to show snatching up all of Betsey’s work, but had little or no interest in her? The Rule encourages us to enjoy the artwork, but even more to love the Artist.
The Rule goes on to describe how sharing everything allows the brothers to be “in harmony with the very being of God whose Triune life is boundless sharing.” It helps them to recognize how a focus on “my” needs, “my” fulfillment, and “my” security is a cultural trap from which we can be set free. Now, the Cowley Fathers community obviously has possessions and it is supported by a large endowment. So each brother has a personal responsibility to care for the community’s possessions and as a group they purchase only what is appropriate and necessary. The Rule even directs brothers to “seek the permission of the Superior to keep any gifts offered” to them as individuals.
All of this suggests a second insight. Each one of our households, whether we live alone or as a couple or as a family or in any number of other possible configurations, is a community. As a community, each member is related to the others. What I do has an impact on every person in the household. The Rule suggests we move from an I want this approach to one where we decide how our resources will be allocated. Each person in the household bears the responsibility of using what is in the household in an appropriate manner. What is purchased is necessary and bought for the common good of all. In a culture where consumption is king, this approach may appear to be rigid and heavy-handed, but it is not. It is a path of life designed to set us free from the clutches of our culture’s worship of material things.
Do you get a sense of how this kind of approach to wealth would begin to simplify your life? The Rule goes on to describe some of the implications of this:
“Simplicity of life finds expression in the way we enjoy and value the goodness of ordinary things and the beauty of creation. As we cherish the essential gifts of life, we grow in freedom from the compulsion to accumulate things, and cease to long for wealth. The movement towards simplicity puts us at odds with our culture, which defines human beings primarily as consumers, and gives prestige to those who have the power to indulge themselves in luxury and waste.”
Even brothers united in this vow experience constant pressure to conform to the ways of the world. They find strength in Jesus’ words today about the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. God’s care for us is seen most clearly not as the world defines wealth, but in the things which the world deems to be of little or no value.
So here is a third and final insight. Think back to that lawyer. He had everything of the world that he could afford; in fact, he had more than he could afford. He had it all, and yet he had nothing: no real sense of peace, no real sense of happiness, no real sense of security. He had swallowed whole one of the world’s biggest lies and now he was choking on it.
I will never make as much money as he does, but I know exactly what it is like to be in his position, only on a scale more closely related to my financial means. I can tell you that as I live below my means, purchase only what I need, take care of what I have, and live generously in this world I am happier than when I don’t. I can tell you that as I learn to enjoy the world, rather than to clutch at it for all I can get, as I get free from worldly entanglements and avoid worldly snares, and as I make who I am and what I have available to others, I feel more closely connected to God and I sense I am more like what God intends for me to be as a human being created in God’s image. It is not something I decided to do one time long ago and that was that. It is a daily struggle, but certainly one worth engaging. It is also daily joy full of wonder, surprise, and blessing as I make my way on the path of life.
Throughout the presentation, one gentleman’s body language became more and more agitated. Finally he spoke up. “I am a lawyer,” he said, “and I make $400,000 a year.” Now that is pretty good money today, but twenty-five years ago it was really good money. “So, based on what you are saying,” the lawyer continued, “I should be giving away $40,000 a year.” “That’s right,” the speaker said, “That would be your tithe.” “Well,” the lawyer responded, “I can’t afford it.” He went on to detail how he had two mortgages, five car payments, three boat loans, college tuition, personal expenses, and on and on and on. In fact, when you tallied all of the lawyer’s financial obligations, he was actually spending more than he was making. The speaker tried to show him how scaling back could help him live within his means, focus on what is essential, be able to offer more to charity, and generally have more peace of mind, but – in the end – the lawyer would have none of it.
That story always comes back to me when I hear the words of Jesus we read just moments ago:
“You cannot serve two masters… You cannot love God and money.”
I have to confess that this teaching brings out all of my most effective defense mechanisms:
• Sure, I have some money, but there are lots of people who are wealthier than me. Obviously Jesus must be talking about them.
• Okay, I have possessions, but I am not dripping with stuff like person X over there.
•And, my new favorite, a significant portion of my tithe is distributed by Uncle Sam.
Somewhere in all these responses, I have lost sight of the truth that Jesus does not heap burdensome commands on us just to test our faithfulness, but rather as a Guide points us toward the path of life; which is to say there is wisdom in what Jesus says that blesses all who heed it. Rather than insolate ourselves from it, we should want to explore it, understand it, and incorporate it into our lives.
Before I was ordained a deacon and before I was ordained a priest, I made silent retreats with the Cowley Fathers, members of the Society of St. John the Evangelist whose monastic community is located on the Charles River just off Harvard Square in Boston. Each member of the community makes the typical monastic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Now, I would have thought that this would make the brothers something wholly other, different from life as I know it, and unrelated to the world as I experience. In fact, what I found was a group of people who were very much engaged with the world and who, better than me, seemed to have figured out what life is all about. They are not perfect, but they are striving to live into the wisdom that Jesus offers through His teaching.
The Cowley Fathers are guided by a Rule of Life, which speaks to the various vows they make. The Rule says that the brothers embrace poverty as a way of relating to God whose self-giving is seen in the calling forth of creation, in the incarnation of Jesus Christ (through which the Rule says “God broke all the limits of generosity”), and in the Cross, which is the ultimate expression of God’s self-giving nature. Each brother takes a vow of poverty in order to be bound to the same self-emptying nature we find in God. The Rule states that the vow of poverty creates space for God to fill each brother with the richness he needs to give himself away in “a common life of worship, hospitality, evangelism, and service.”
So here is the first insight the Rule offers to us: Either we can focus our life on the Creator or we can focus it on the creation. Think of it this way: When I attended the NSA Art Show I saw several of Betsy Brother’s paintings on display and then I ran into Betsey herself. Now Betsey’s paintings are very nice, but if all I knew of her were her paintings my life would be poorer. Wouldn’t it be strange if I ran around from show to show snatching up all of Betsey’s work, but had little or no interest in her? The Rule encourages us to enjoy the artwork, but even more to love the Artist.
The Rule goes on to describe how sharing everything allows the brothers to be “in harmony with the very being of God whose Triune life is boundless sharing.” It helps them to recognize how a focus on “my” needs, “my” fulfillment, and “my” security is a cultural trap from which we can be set free. Now, the Cowley Fathers community obviously has possessions and it is supported by a large endowment. So each brother has a personal responsibility to care for the community’s possessions and as a group they purchase only what is appropriate and necessary. The Rule even directs brothers to “seek the permission of the Superior to keep any gifts offered” to them as individuals.
All of this suggests a second insight. Each one of our households, whether we live alone or as a couple or as a family or in any number of other possible configurations, is a community. As a community, each member is related to the others. What I do has an impact on every person in the household. The Rule suggests we move from an I want this approach to one where we decide how our resources will be allocated. Each person in the household bears the responsibility of using what is in the household in an appropriate manner. What is purchased is necessary and bought for the common good of all. In a culture where consumption is king, this approach may appear to be rigid and heavy-handed, but it is not. It is a path of life designed to set us free from the clutches of our culture’s worship of material things.
Do you get a sense of how this kind of approach to wealth would begin to simplify your life? The Rule goes on to describe some of the implications of this:
“Simplicity of life finds expression in the way we enjoy and value the goodness of ordinary things and the beauty of creation. As we cherish the essential gifts of life, we grow in freedom from the compulsion to accumulate things, and cease to long for wealth. The movement towards simplicity puts us at odds with our culture, which defines human beings primarily as consumers, and gives prestige to those who have the power to indulge themselves in luxury and waste.”
Even brothers united in this vow experience constant pressure to conform to the ways of the world. They find strength in Jesus’ words today about the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. God’s care for us is seen most clearly not as the world defines wealth, but in the things which the world deems to be of little or no value.
So here is a third and final insight. Think back to that lawyer. He had everything of the world that he could afford; in fact, he had more than he could afford. He had it all, and yet he had nothing: no real sense of peace, no real sense of happiness, no real sense of security. He had swallowed whole one of the world’s biggest lies and now he was choking on it.
I will never make as much money as he does, but I know exactly what it is like to be in his position, only on a scale more closely related to my financial means. I can tell you that as I live below my means, purchase only what I need, take care of what I have, and live generously in this world I am happier than when I don’t. I can tell you that as I learn to enjoy the world, rather than to clutch at it for all I can get, as I get free from worldly entanglements and avoid worldly snares, and as I make who I am and what I have available to others, I feel more closely connected to God and I sense I am more like what God intends for me to be as a human being created in God’s image. It is not something I decided to do one time long ago and that was that. It is a daily struggle, but certainly one worth engaging. It is also daily joy full of wonder, surprise, and blessing as I make my way on the path of life.
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