Fresh Church

This week’s lectionary texts from the older and newer testaments which will be read and talked about by most churches around the world recall the Prophet Elijah’s ascent to heaven on a chariot of fire and Jesus’ transfiguration.  Two weird, mystical accounts to draw our attention to the Greater Other to help us remember to keep first things first, seeking the Kingdom of God (attunement) above all else in everything we do. The view from the mountain above casts the vision for the valley below.

Epperly notes that “mysticism leads to mission, and mission always challenges the status quo with the vision of God’s new creation (91).” After witnessing Elijah’s ascension, Elisha was emboldened in his faith in God as were the disciples as they recalled the transfiguration.  Their vision was refreshed, and with it came what Epperly describes as an “adventurous spirituality”:

Adventurous spirituality affirms that all are beloved and gifted to love and serve, and to be cherished and served. If God’s center is everywhere, as Bonaventure asserts, then every person is equally centered by God, regardless of gender, sexual identity, race and ethnicity, intelligence, age, or nation of origin. Our calling is to help our kin find their unique spiritual center as their unrepeatable gift to the world. God speaks in the voices of infants and elders, Europeans and Afghans, gay theologians, and heterosexual organists, [Americans] and Somalians, celibate priests and married parents (100-101).

The view from the mountain above casts the vision for the valley below.

There are serious implications inherent in such a vision of the world because the field of play is leveled for all people and creation itself.  We are no longer afforded the myth of independence when everything in our actual experience affirms interdependence.  Epperly continues:

What happens to refugee children, Ukrainian parents, right whale pups, and polar bears on ice caps matters to us because in the intricate interdependence of life, our joys and sorrows are one...  In an interdependent world, the most pitiable—and dangerous—person and institution is the one that believes its well-being is isolated from the well-being of the community and the planet. Notions of “me first,” “congregation first,” and “nation first” ultimately go against our personal, congregational, national, and planetary well-being; they also go against the structure of God’s world, where individuality and community, solitude and relationship, cannot be separated. From this perspective, the inner and outer are one in the spiritual journey and the mystic’s experience. The church that prays is also the church that sacrifices and risks its own reputation to stand with the poor (101).

The view from the mountain above casts the vision for the valley below.

Martin Luther King, Jr., had been to the mountaintop, he had seen the Promised Land, casting the vision for his work in one of our nation’s darkest valleys (racism’s segregation and voting rights violations). What’s your personal valley? What are some of the larger valleys that you feel passionate about? How does the view from the mountain cast the vision for those valleys below?

A “fresh church” is a community of faithful, adventurous visionaries captivated and compelled by the love of God for all creation which constantly competes with other visions vying for our allegiance. The question for those who desire to be faithful is simply, which vision will we allow to most captivate, inform, and compel us forward?

FRESH PRAYER Open my senses to the world’s suffering. Open my heart to God’s pain in the pain of the world. Open my hands to give selfless and generous service. Open my tongue that I might speak to everyone as if they were an angel, addressing them with respect and compassion. Let me see you, O Jesus, in all creatures, and act always to bring beauty to your life and the world. Amen (105-106).

All quotes, unless otherwise noted, are from Bruce Epperly’s book, Simplicity, Spirituality, Service: The Timeless Wisdom of Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure. Franciscan Media. Kindle Edition.

2 Kings 2:1-14 MSG

     Just before GOD took Elijah to heaven in a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on a walk out of Gilgal. Elijah said to Elisha, "Stay here. GOD has sent me on an errand to Bethel."

     Elisha said, "Not on your life! I'm not letting you out of my sight!" So they both went to Bethel.

     The guild of prophets at Bethel met Elisha and said, "Did you know that GOD is going to take your master away from you today?"

     "Yes," he said, "I know it. But keep it quiet."

     Then Elijah said to Elisha, "Stay here. GOD has sent me on an errand to Jericho."

     Elisha said, "Not on your life! I'm not letting you out of my sight!" So they both went to Jericho.

     The guild of prophets at Jericho came to Elisha and said, "Did you know that GOD is going to take your master away from you today?"

     "Yes," he said, "I know it. But keep it quiet."

     Then Elijah said to Elisha, "Stay here. GOD has sent me on an errand to the Jordan."

     Elisha said, "Not on your life! I'm not letting you out of my sight!" And so the two of them went their way together.

     Meanwhile, fifty men from the guild of prophets gathered some distance away while the two of them stood at the Jordan.

     Elijah took his cloak, rolled it up, and hit the water with it. The river divided and the two men walked through on dry land.

     When they reached the other side, Elijah said to Elisha, "What can I do for you before I'm taken from you? Ask anything."

     Elisha said, "Your life repeated in my life. I want to be a holy man just like you."

     "That's a hard one!" said Elijah. "But if you're watching when I'm taken from you, you'll get what you've asked for. But only if you're watching."

     And so it happened. They were walking along and talking. Suddenly a chariot and horses of fire came between them and Elijah went up in a whirlwind to heaven. Elisha saw it all and shouted, "My father, my father! You—the chariot and cavalry of Israel!" When he could no longer see anything, he grabbed his robe and ripped it to pieces. Then he picked up Elijah's cloak that had fallen from him, returned to the shore of the Jordan, and stood there. He took Elijah's cloak—all that was left of Elijah!—and hit the river with it, saying, "Now where is the GOD of Elijah? Where is he?"

     When he struck the water, the river divided and Elisha walked through.

Mark 9:2-9 MSG

     Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain. His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. His clothes shimmered, glistening white, whiter than any bleach could make them. Elijah, along with Moses, came into view, in deep conversation with Jesus.

     Peter interrupted, "Rabbi, this is a great moment! Let's build three memorials—one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah." He blurted this out without thinking, stunned as they all were by what they were seeing.

     Just then a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and from deep in the cloud, a voice: "This is my Son, marked by my love. Listen to him."

     The next minute the disciples were looking around, rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus, only Jesus.

     Coming down the mountain, Jesus swore them to secrecy. "Don't tell a soul what you saw. After the Son of Man rises from the dead, you're free to talk."

Commentary from the Salt Project

Epiphany 6 (Year B): Mark 9:1-10 and 2 Kings 2:1-12

Big Picture:

1) This is the last week of the Season of Epiphany. For Mark, the Transfiguration is in many ways the mother of all epiphany stories (as you know, “epiphany” means “showing forth”), since it reveals Jesus as a prophet par excellence, and above all, as God’s Beloved Child (9:7).

2) The episode takes place at almost the exact midpoint of Mark’s Gospel, as well as its highest geographical elevation (the reference to Caesarea Philippi in 8:27 suggests that this mountain is likely Mount Hermon, the highest peak in Syro-Palestine — and the same one referenced in Psalm 133, where “dwelling together in unity” is compared to the lovely “dew of Hermon”). In broad strokes, the first eight chapters of Mark describe Jesus’ ascent, his ministry of healing and liberation, and the last eight chapters describe the descent into his passion and death, arriving finally at the stunning news of his empty tomb. The Transfiguration stands as the fulcrum, a high point and pivot point between these two great sections of Jesus’ journey.

3) In the verses just before this passage, Jesus articulates what is arguably his most disturbing, difficult teaching of all (we’ll tackle it head-on in a couple of weeks): that he must suffer, die, and rise again, and that anyone who wishes to follow him must “deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow me” (8:34). The disciples are understandably bewildered by these ideas, and Peter even argues with Jesus, rebuking him and refusing to believe. The Transfiguration’s brilliant light, then, acts as a kind of reassurance for the disciples (including us!). It’s as if Mark is saying: We’re now making the turn toward Golgotha, and that means descending into the valley of the shadow of death. But fear not! Keep this astonishing, mysterious mountaintop story in mind as we go. Carry it like a torch, for it can help show the way — not least because it gives us a glimpse of where all this is headed...

4) Along with 1 & 2 Samuel, 1 & 2 Kings recount the saga of Israel’s monarchies, and this week's passage from 2 Kings is the story of a gifted prophet (Elijah) passing the baton to his protégé (Elisha). This passage helpfully features Elijah, of course, who in Mark appears on the mountaintop with Jesus; but it also provides a portrait of ancient Israel’s prevailing model of prophetic succession. Elisha does not surpass or supersede Elijah, but rather follows in his footsteps, quite literally picking up Elijah’s “mantle” (his cloak), carrying on his mentor's mission (2:13). As we’ll see, Mark picks up on this basic pattern.

5) By Mark’s day, many Jews considered Elijah to be an eschatological figure whose return would signal the imminent end of the age (see, for example, Malachi 4:5-6). The fascination with Elijah was no doubt partly due to this story in 2 Kings of his being swirled up directly into heaven at the end of his life, avoiding the sting of death itself — a turn of events taken as a vivid sign of his holiness and devotion.

Scripture:

1) Mark 9:1 continues Jesus’ comments in the last verses of Chapter 8, essentially underscoring them with a sense of urgency; in 9:2, the story’s new episode begins. (The numerical chapters and verses were added centuries after Mark was written — and they’re not always precisely on target!)

2) The conspicuous timestamp — “Six days later” — is likely an allusion to the “six days” Moses spends in the cloud atop Mount Sinai before God calls out to him (Exodus 24:15-16). Likewise, the shining garments recall Moses’ radiance when he descended from Sinai (Exodus 34:29-35), and at the same time anticipate the angel’s white robe in the empty tomb to come (Mark 16:5). Finally, the story's cloud and divine voice evoke the portrait of God's presence in Exodus 24. In this way, Mark casts this mountaintop encounter with God in terms of Israel’s classic paradigm, thus positioning his gospel within the broad sweep of salvation history.  

3) What happens up there? It’s beyond explanation, of course, but at its heart it’s a vision of that mysterious heavenly realm, and indeed of the world to come. Time and space seem to collapse; the world somehow becomes incandescent; and Jesus is suddenly seen engaging Israel’s two most prestigious prophets in collegial conversation. The disciples are understandably overwhelmed and afraid, and Peter (never at a loss for words!) stammers a suggestion: Shall we build you three tents? It's a bumbling, endearing proposal, if a bit tone-deaf and presumptuous (after all, if these three great prophets wanted shelter, they likely would have already made arrangements!). Is Peter thinking of the Greek custom of building a shrine at the site of a god’s appearance? Is he trying to corral the astounding wonder into something more manageable, more domesticated? Or is he simply “terrified” (9:6), grasping for something to say, something to offer?

4) Emanating from a cloud, God’s voice reprises the message at Jesus’ baptism (Mark 1:11). It may be that only Jesus hears the voice in that earlier scene (for there God says, “You are my Son...”), whereas here the announcement is addressed to all who have ears to hear (“This is my Son…”). At any rate, Jesus nevertheless orders his three disciples to keep his identity a secret until after he has “risen from the dead.” For Mark, true messiahship comes not with trumpets and chariots, but rather in the deeply hidden form of a suffering servant; accordingly, it must be concealed until the resurrection, the ultimate Epiphany. It won’t be long now, Mark insists. The end of the age is at hand; Elijah has come in the form of John the Baptist (see Jesus’ oblique comment in 9:13); and now the Child of Humanity, God’s Beloved, turns toward Jerusalem.

5) Most Jews in Mark’s day would have been familiar with the concept of resurrection at the end of the age, but it was typically thought of as a communal, general resurrection of all God’s people. Mark’s view seems to be that Jesus will rise as a kind of harbinger, a reassuring “first fruits” of that wider resurrection to come (compare Paul’s version of this idea in 1 Corinthians 15:20).  

6) The Transfiguration ends as abruptly as it began. The two former prophets suddenly vanish, and the disciples find themselves with Jesus alone. Mark’s message here isn’t that Jesus somehow eclipses or supersedes Moses and Elijah, but rather that he stands in profound kinship and continuity with them, both carrying on and culminating their work. In other words, Jesus succeeds them — and just as Elisha’s succession of Elijah involves not a demotion but rather an exaltation of the elder figure, so too with Jesus. Mark honors Moses and Elijah in this story, even as Jesus steps forward as God’s Beloved, the One to whom his disciples must listen.

Takeaways:

1) In the context of the overall narrative, Mark’s central point in the Transfiguration story is this: the suffering and death of Jesus may at first appear as an unthinkable, desecrating defeat, but it’s actually a step toward a dramatic, subversive victory. Jesus will now venture into the shadows of death — precisely in order to scatter those shadows once and for all, overcoming them in the end with shimmering light. Jesus will go down into the depths of what can only be called godforsaken — precisely in order to lift the world up into renewed intimacy with God, the sort of intimacy familiar to Moses (the one who “knew God face to face” (Deut 34:10) and even “mouth to mouth” (Num 12:8)), familiar to Elijah (the one who heard God in “the sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19:12)), and familiar to Jesus, God’s beloved child. So take heart! And “listen to him” — that is, continue to trust and walk with Jesus, following in his footsteps and taking up his mantle, even though the path ahead now seems strewn with danger and disgrace. Radiant beauty awaits — on the other side of Golgotha.

2) Think of this passage itself as a “high mountain” at the center of Mark’s Gospel. On one side, we climb up through stories of Jesus’ healing, liberating ministry. And on the other side, we’ll descend to the cross. Today, we arrive at a clearing on the mountaintop — and from here we can survey both how far we’ve come and the Lenten journey ahead.

3) Epiphany concludes today: Jesus has "shown forth" to be a healer and a liberator; a teacher and a shining prophet. The “unclean spirit” has called him “the Holy One of God;” Peter has called him “the Messiah” (Mark 8:29). But most fundamentally and decisively, he is God’s beloved child. His path of love will lead down into the valley, through the dry cinders of Ash Wednesday and the tears of the Via Dolorosa, the Way of Sorrow, all the way to Easter Sunday and the Way of Life. Here atop Mount Hermon, we can survey the 40 days ahead, take a deep breath — and remember that the journey through ashes and sorrow is never for its own sake. It's for the sake of what comes next. In a word, it's for the sake of transfiguration: a radiant new life and a dazzling new world.

Green and Growing Prayer

I was shaped heavily by the caricatured 1980’s theme of narcissistic greed.  The Breakfast Club, a classic movie depicting High School life in that decade, could have been shot at my Upper-Middle-Class school in Okemos, Michigan. I am glad culture has evolved since then, yet I am cognizant of the fact that the lure of fame and fortune in large and small ways exists in every person born in every era. As a pastor and as a human being wanting to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, living in a culture that is radically focused on individual success and wellbeing, I wonder about what it takes for us to wake up from our self-centered stupor? What does it even look like to not be self-absorbed? Beyond creating a more just society where laws protect against mistreatment, how does a society’s heart change?

     Martin Luther King, Jr. stated that unless justice is for everyone, justice exists for no one.  I wonder if the same is true of the eternally flowing love and grace of God. More to the egocentric point, could it be that unless and until – or to the extent that we look beyond ourselves to the needs of others – we will not really experience the love and grace we desperately need?  This is reminiscent of the line in the Lord’s Prayer: Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, or a statement Jesus made that unless we forgive, we will not be forgiven (Matthew 6:15). To forgive others for selfish purposes seems antithetical, though, right? Perhaps what is being stated is simply this: when we are in the flow of love and grace, we extend love and grace and quite effortlessly receive and experience love and grace in return.  This feels like a much better fit with the person of Jesus than religiosity’s typical approach to turning faith into a list of contractual obligations that must be met to get God to act graciously.

     How do we cultivate this way of life Jesus taught and modeled? What can we do to offset the cultural pressures and human desires that support various levels of hedonistic attitudes and behaviors? The problem: we may be missing the most important thing that we desire from faith, and we cannot attain it simply by checking a task list box or following rules (as important as those lists may be). The Way is cultivated more than prescribed.

     That we are selfish animals who want good things for at least ourselves presents a challenge to The Way that calls for compassion.  This is hard-wired into us. Just as there is no need to apologize for wanting and desiring oxygen, neither should we feel shame or guilt for wanting to feel connected to God and the deep peace it can bring. Yet that’s not the end goal or point for Jesus. It seems that the more he experienced the love of God flowing through him the more his gaze turned toward a world in need, as seen in this account from the Gospel of Mark:

After Jesus left the synagogue with James and John, they went to Simon and Andrew’s home. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was sick in bed with a high fever. They told Jesus about her right away. So he went to her bedside, took her by the hand, and helped her sit up. Then the fever left her, and she prepared a meal for them.

     That evening after sunset, many sick and demon-possessed people were brought to Jesus. The whole town gathered at the door to watch. So Jesus healed many people who were sick with various diseases, and he cast out many demons. But because the demons knew who he was, he did not allow them to speak.

     Before daybreak the next morning, Jesus got up and went out to an isolated place to pray. Later Simon and the others went out to find him. When they found him, they said, “Everyone is looking for you.”

     But Jesus replied, “We must go on to other towns as well, and I will preach to them, too. That is why I came.” So he traveled throughout the region of Galilee, preaching in the synagogues and casting out demons. – Mark 1:29-39 NLT

The overwhelming grace of God compelled Jesus to extend grace to all others, so that the recipients could do the same. Peter’s mother-in-law was healed and then immediately used her gifts to serve others – this isn’t a “nobody else can make a sandwich except for a woman” story. This is a story of healing that allowed this woman to use her gifts and position to provide hospitality to her guests. To not be able to do that in such a context would have been a great disappointment – maybe even humiliating – for the woman.  The natural connection seems to be that when we are healed, restored, refreshed, renewed, etc., we quite naturally want to extend the same.  Think Scrooge when he woke up Christmas morning, or George Bailey’s joy when his nightmare ended. Genuine love and grace move us to extend love and grace.

     The Apostle Paul’s life was transformed by grace, and quite naturally so were his priorities. Listen to his words that indicate a shift from compelling others to fit into his version of religiosity to his commitment to shift to bring grace and love wherever he traveled: When I am with those who are weak, I share their weakness, for I want to bring the weak to Christ. Yes, I try to find common ground with everyone, doing everything I can to save some. I do everything to spread the Good News and share in its blessings.– 1 Cor. 9:21-23 NLT

     This tradition reflects The Way of Jesus passed down through the ages.  As Bruce Epperly notes in his book, Simplicity, Spirituality, Service: The Timeless Wisdom of Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure,

     Francis and Clare reflect an alternative, world-affirming spirituality. The spiritual path taken by most monastics in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries could be described as a journey of ascent from earthly to heavenly things. In contrast to this path of world-denial, Francis and Clare took another path toward God. Their mysticism reflected a “horizontal ecstasy,” in which the journey inward and the journey outward are one and the same. Going deep within, they purified their passion, enabling it to be an aid instead of a hindrance to spiritual maturity (78)... By placing ourselves in God’s presence throughout the day... we experience God as the reality in whom we “live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Francis opened to God in every encounter. Synchronicity abounds, and when we live prayerfully, every interchange and choice become an opportunity to experience God’s wisdom guiding our daily lives. Spiritual practices open our whole being to God’s call (79-80).

     When we devote ourselves to The Way of Jesus, which is walking in and with and motivated by the Spirit of God, we experience an abundance of Life, Truth, Peace, Joy – all the things our deepest and truest selves yearn for. As we stay in this Way – which requires intentionality because it is countercultural and counter-intuitive – we find that our lives are filled with great meaning and impact, as Epperly notes:

     Franciscan spirituality reminds us that our prayers connect us to all creation and that even something as apparently insignificant as a prayer can open our hearts and hands and tip a situation from death to life. Going inward, we awaken to our pain and the pain of the universe and receive guidance to respond to the overwhelming crises of climate change, poverty, starvation, incivility, and racism. Prayer leads to solidarity and compassion and expands our circle of influence so that one child at a time, one call to a political representative at a time, one sacrificial gift at a time, one act of simplification at a time, the world is healed (82).

     I want this.  I need this. I think the world needs more love and grace, and I want to be part of bringing that to fruition however and wherever I can.  I bet you do, too, in your innermost being. I think staying connected to the Spirit through meditation and daily prayer exercises matters a lot. Yet I also want to state that there is another component that I believe we will overlook and exclude: awakening to our pain and everyone else’s or awakening to our humanity and the humanity we share with every other human being.  I think this may be a key component in keeping us truly grounded and empathetic because it woos us into seeing beyond the labels and prejudice lens with which we see the world.  We choose to see human beings at the border, not “illegals”. We see the anguish of Palestinians and Israelis instead of the harsh rhetoric of their respective leaders. We see real people with real concerns behind their politics. We may even be able to see the human beings within the politicians themselves (though that may take more effort!). There is a reason Clare advised spending time dwelling on the cross – Jesus joined God in suffering the worst humanity could dish out. God is always there with those who suffer. Perhaps when we join those who suffer in various ways, we find ourselves in the presence of God with them, and able to act as God’s hands and feet and mouth and ears in the process. Perhaps our attitude toward those who we might otherwise dismiss is the very litmus test denoting where the invitation to mature is extended. Our biases that keep us excluding become the path that leads to our capacity to greater inclusion.

     May you use the tools below to continue to cultivate The Way into your life so that, more and more, it becomes increasingly natural and effortless.  May you experience grace upon grace as you discover yourself being used of God as a conduit of love and grace to a world hungering for it. May you hear the woo of God taking you into deeper understanding of the humanity of others – especially those you struggle with – as the means toward your own maturing faith.

FRESH PRAYER

     God of change and glory, God of time and space, give me the grace of passion. Enflame me with love for this good earth and all its creatures. Purify my senses, that my delight with embodiment and creation may inspire generosity and compassion. Let love and light burst forth, warming and enlightening my spirit, and giving light to all around me and glory to God, my Creator and Loving Companion. Amen.

Bonus Material!

Tools for Developing you Spirituality and Impact

Every Breath a Prayer. My prayer life has been enriched by practicing breath prayer. As a graduate student, I learned a simple prayer taught by Congregationalist minister Allan Armstrong Hunter:

I breathe the Spirit deeply in,

And blow it gratefully out again (83).

Walking with Jesus. Movement is an important part of Franciscan spirituality. This practice can be done sitting in a chair or on the move. Take time for the following: Breathe deeply and slowly, perhaps using a breath prayer noted above. Ask Jesus to be your companion and reveal himself to you. Then, whether you are walking, sitting, or lying down, visualize Jesus beside you. Image yourself and Jesus joined in conversation and united in spirit. Share your spirit, emotions, thoughts—whatever is on your heart—with Jesus. Listen to his response, whether verbal or non-verbal. If you feel inclined, ask Jesus a question, and then listen for his response in this moment and throughout the day. Ask Jesus to walk beside you in the day ahead and for the sensitivity to know that he is with you. Conclude with a moment of prayerful gratitude (84-85).

All quotes are from Bruce Epperly’s book, Simplicity, Spirituality, Service: The Timeless Wisdom of Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure. Franciscan Media. Kindle Edition.

Commentary from the SALT Project

Epiphany 5 (Year B): Mark 1:29-39 and Isaiah 40:21-31

Big Picture:

1) In last week’s passage, Jesus begins his public ministry by directly confronting an “unclean spirit,” thereby establishing himself as “the Holy One of God,” a healer and liberator opposed to the world’s death-dealing dynamics. This week, Mark continues to develop this opening theme, filling in more substance and color about the mode, purpose, and fruit of this healing, liberating work.

2) In this week’s passage, Mark introduces a key motif in the Gospel, the so-called “Messianic secret”: Jesus’ repeated insistence — to demons and disciples alike — that his true identity not yet be disclosed. This secrecy is part of a striking vision of messiahship: the Anointed One will not come in a dominant, conspicuous form (say, as a triumphant military leader), but rather in a humble, hidden form, a suffering servant, ultimately revealed as Messiah through his death, resurrection, and subsequent community — the church — who will carry on his work.

3) The Book of Isaiah is a layered library in itself, and this week’s passage comes from the layer often called “Second Isaiah,” a section likely written during and just after Israel’s exile in Babylon. Chapter 40 is Second Isaiah’s introductory overture of good news and assurance, in which the prophet proclaims that God cares for the people of Israel and will restore them, and that God’s capacity as “the Creator of the ends of the earth” (v. 28) is more than sufficient to deliver on the promise of restoration. And by the way, the opening section of this larger passage, Isaiah 40:1-11, is the declaration of comfort and hope often associated with Advent and Christmas.  

Scripture:

1) According to Mark, the opening day of Jesus’ ministry is a Sabbath day: he begins by teaching “with authority” in the synagogue, healing a man possessed by “an unclean spirit” — and now, as the day comes to a close, healing Peter’s mother-in-law of a fever. Taken as a whole, this first day prefigures major themes — healing, restoration, hope — that will define the heart of Jesus’ mission.

2) As we saw last week, one of those themes is opposition to death-dealing forces: “the Holy One of God” comes as a healer and a liberator. And while the episode with the possessed man provides a sense of what this liberation is “freedom from,” this week’s story points toward what it is “freedom for.”

3) The passage pivots around four key verbs: proserchomai (“to come near”), krateo (“to take hold”), egeiro(“to waken, to raise”) and diakoneo (“to serve, to minister”). The first two verbs go together: Jesus “comes near” Peter’s mother-in-law, close enough to “take hold” of her hand. Throughout the Gospel, Mark distinctively emphasizes the power of touch, including the idea (as we’ll see in the weeks ahead) that Jesus is unafraid to touch and be touched by the supposedly “unclean.”

4) Having taken her hand, Jesus “raises her up.” The same word (egeiro) is used of Jesus himself at the resurrection — it’s there in the famous line, “He has been raised; he is not here” (Mark 16:6) — and so the term evokes a renewed strength, a reinvigoration, a reawakening, a restoration, a return.

5) And finally, what is she renewed for? For diakonos, “ministry, service,” the same root that gives us the word “deacon” (she is the original deacon!). What’s more, the word diakonos literally means “to kick up dust” — this is an active, practical, on-the-move, change-the-world sort of work. In short, she is lifted up to serve. She is freed for ministry, to kick up some dust and get some things done. She is the pioneer who blazes the trail for the anonymous woman who causes a little dust-up near the end of Mark’s Gospel by anointing Jesus (“what she has done will be told in remembrance of her,” Mark 14:3-9), and also for the group of women at the crucifixion who stay and keep watch and remain with the vandalized body, even as the male disciples panic and flee (see Mark 15:40-41; the Greek word translated as “provided for” is diakoneo).

6) It’s worth recalling here how illness not only debilitates the body, it also can cut a person off from his or her social life and contributions to community — and this can feel like a loss of dignity or purpose. If we take Peter’s mother-in-law seriously as the first deacon (or dust-kicker-upper!), a model of ministry, we can see that her healing is also a restoration to dignity. Hospitality was highly prized in the ancient world, and for early Christians, to be hospitable in a way that advanced the Jesus movement was both an art and an honor. in this way, for Mark, the healing in this story is not only a matter of a fever departing; it’s also a matter of restoration to community, and of participation in the movement. This social dimension of healing is a key theme to which Mark will return again and again.

7) In need of some restoration himself, Jesus retreats to the wilderness to pray — recalling his preparatory 40 days in the wilderness after his baptism just a few verses earlier (Mark 1:12-13). Taken together, these passages point to the renewing powers of wilderness; the ancient cycle of work and rest, engagement and retreat, action and contemplation; and the need for those laboring to restore the world to seek out regular, intentional practices of restoration themselves.

8) This passage in Isaiah is one of the Bible’s exceptional hymns to God’s greatness as witnessed through the glorious wonders of creation. The prophet’s point is that this greatness should give us comfort and faith in God’s care for us, regardless of the apparent difficulties we may face. Have you not heard?  God is the incomparable Creator of all things, from the supernova to the firefly’s wing, the rings of Saturn to the spots on the leopard. Is God then unable to care for you? Look to the heavens: the stars in the sky are not other gods (as some contemporaries then thought), but rather marvels God created simply by calling their names. Have you not heard the psalmist sing? “God heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. God determines the number of the stars; God gives to all of them their names” (Ps 147:3-5).

9) This creation-through-speech evokes Genesis 1 — and it resonates with Mark 1, too, as Jesus drives out the unclean spirit merely by speaking, and heals Peter’s mother-in-law through gracious, life-giving touch. Have you not heard? You may be laid low but have courage! God will take your hand and lift you up (Mark); God will renew your strength, and you’ll mount up with wings like eagles (Isaiah)!

Takeaways:

1) For Mark, this first day of ministry is a microcosm of Jesus’ mission as a whole: the Holy One of God comes to confront death-dealing forces for the sake of life-giving restoration. Jesus will be resurrected later in the story, but his life’s mission is all about resurrection (literally “standing again”) in the here and now. He comes near in order to lift us up into service, to reawaken us into dignity, community, and genuine health.

2) And please note, Jesus doesn’t so much say this with words as demonstrate it with action. He offers and enacts a “freedom from” bondage and ruin, and at the same time a “freedom for” service, ministry, and kicking up a little dust. And since this first day of his ministry is on a Sabbath day, Jesus thereby embodies the true meaning of Sabbath: a day for restoration, for health, for resurrection, for joy, and in that sense for anticipating the Great Sabbath to come. Throughout his ministry, Jesus proclaims the Sabbath of Sabbaths, the Jubilee of Jubilees, the dawn of a new era: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near” (Mark 1:15).

3) Some listeners may well wonder whether or not we are required to believe miracle stories like this one — and this kind of doubt puts us in good company! As the Swiss theologian Karl Barth has pointed out, miracle stories are designed to astonish — and astonishment, after all, is a blend of belief and disbelief. Accordingly, Barth contends that Christian readers should neither merely “believe” miracle stories (for that would mean we aren’t truly astonished by them) nor merely “disbelieve” them (ditto); rather, these stories should leave us continually “taken aback.” Thus, we may truly take our place among the “amazed” crowds, and turn our attention to the deeper dimensions of what Jesus’ mission means for us today. What death-dealing forces should we tangibly and practically confront? What life-giving service should we tangibly and practically undertake? What dust, good deacons, do we need to kick up around here?

4) As we seek to answer these questions, Mark and Isaiah give us guidance. Following Jesus means having the courage to confront forces of ruin; it means finding ways to tenderly bind up wounds; it means not only proclaiming resurrection but living out lives of resurrection, for ourselves and for others; and it means doing all of this with our deeds as much as with our words. Jesus comes as a healer and liberator, calls us to join him — and promises to accompany us along the way, caring for us as we confront, come near, take hold, lift up, and serve. A great challenge, it’s true, the greatest of our lives — but God’s love, companionship, and support are more than enough. Have you not heard?

Growing in Wisdom and Stature

     Just before Luke’s Gospel launches into Jesus’ adult, public ministry, the author gives us a summary statement  of Jesus’ first 30’ish years of life that preceded: Jesus grew in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and all the people (Luke 2:52 NLT). We know very little about Jesus’ life before his final 1-3 years. Yet Luke’s declaration speaks volumes.

     Before we go any further, let me offer you my sincerest congratulations!  Way to go!  You made it to today!  Somehow you (with the help of others along the way) made it out of your mother’s womb, figured out how to express your needs the only way you knew how (crying at the top of your lungs), learned to walk, talk, eat, bathe, dress, and generally take care of yourself.  Considering this achievement, you are incredible!  Not only did you grow physically, but you also matured!  Only one or two of you still cry at the top of your lungs when you want something (you know who you are). Most of you have learned to exercise control in many sectors of life to protect yourself and to increase the odds of beating the actuary tables. Well done!

     Not to ruin such a celebratory tone, but I feel that I need to let you know that as special as you are and as good as you can feel about such an incredible feat, pretty much every human being on the planet has done the same to varying degrees. Everyone is special.  What Luke wanted to convey to us is that something a bit more unique happened in Jesus’ life.  He grew in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and all the people.  To achieve that includes all the normal wisdom-gaining experienced by everyone yet requires more.  It requires intentionality. One generally does not grow in stature or in favor with God and all people without concerted effort.  We can trust that Jesus learned and practiced what Paul later instructed the conflicted church in ancient Rome: Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect (Romans 12:2 NLT ). The Way of Jesus (which is bigger than Jesus) is different than the ways of the world. It requires openness and learning that lasts our lifetimes.

     Most churches around the world this week are reading Mark’s Gospel account of Jesus’ earliest days of ministry just after he invited followers to join him on his campaign to usher in the Kingdom of God:

     Jesus and his companions went to the town of Capernaum. When the Sabbath day came, he went into the synagogue and began to teach. The people were amazed at his teaching, for he taught with real authority—quite unlike the teachers of religious law.

     Suddenly, a man in the synagogue who was possessed by an evil spirit cried out, “Why are you interfering with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God!”

     But Jesus reprimanded him. “Be quiet! Come out of the man,” he ordered. At that, the evil spirit screamed, threw the man into a convulsion, and then came out of him.

     Amazement gripped the audience, and they began to discuss what had happened. “What sort of new teaching is this?” they asked excitedly. “It has such authority! Even evil spirits obey his orders!” The news about Jesus spread quickly throughout the entire region of Galilee. – Mark 1:21-28 (NLT)

     In our modern Western world, we may get tripped up with references to demon possession, evil spirits, and other concerns that are deeply tied to the original cultural context.  Set your need for literalness aside to hear what Mark is trying to say: Jesus was on the ground helping save people from that which was robbing them of life.  His authority was recognized even by the very forces behind the robberies. While we may not hold such archaic views, we are all certainly aware of things that possess us.  We all struggle with something or another. For some it’s a substance like alcohol, drugs, sex, food, porn, etc.  For others it’s trauma from childhood or adulthood. Or being enculturated in a society-wide system that is destructive toward some more than others.  Jesus’ Way was liberating then, and still is today.  The words and Way of Jesus still stand on their own, and when followed lead us to deeper and deeper maturity, greater stature, and wider favor with God and all people.

     The question before us as we consider Jesus in his context, and Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure in theirs, is how do we frame this inherently inviting Way for ourselves?  Bernard Loomer, who was a mentor for Bruce Epperly (who wrote the book central to this series) noted the following:

     If a religious institution or belief system is small—that is, cramped intellectually and relationally—it should be discarded as irrelevant and injurious to individuals and communities...  By size I mean the stature of a person’s soul, the range and depth of his love, his capacity for relationships. I mean the volume of life you can take into your being and still maintain your integrity and individuality, the intensity and variety of outlook you can entertain in the unity of your being without feeling defensive or insecure. I mean the strength of your spirit to encourage others to become freer in the development of their diversity and uniqueness (59).

Epperly weighs in on the definition of maturity-born stature as well:    

     Stature is not relativism, but empathetic relatedness. When we make judgments related to others’ behaviors and beliefs, or institutional and political choices, we are guided by love as well as critique. We recognize our moral and spiritual limitations as well as the moral and spiritual limitations of those whom we challenge. We realize that challenging injustice is necessary to liberate both oppressor and oppressed (73).

To foster such growth, Epperly gains insight from the central characters of his writing:

     For Francis and Clare, spiritual poverty involved the interplay of simplicity and fruitfulness to let in God’s light and reflect that light to others. We need to prune everything that prevents us from experiencing God’s presence in our lives. We need to quiet the voice of conflict, lure of consumerism, attraction of recognition and fame, and lust for power and possession to hear the voice of God. We need to be sure that our lives touch the earth lightly, that we care for the planet and work to ensure that everyone has sufficient food and housing. We need to eliminate the detritus that sullies the doors of perception, trapping us in shadows rather than freeing us for God’s sunlight (64-65).

     To conclude his fourth chapter on Growing in Wisdom and Stature, Epperly invites us to embrace the following prayer: God, whose energy brought forth the Universe in all its wonder and glory, whose wisdom guided the evolutionary process, whose love embraced humankind and all creation in its beauty and waywardness, bless my journey. Help me to walk the path of Jesus, growing in wisdom and stature each day, expanding my circle of compassion, and trusting you in all the seasons of life. Amen (76).

     From my experience and study of adult transformation (which was half of my doctoral thesis), I can tell you that transforming moments happen to everyday people.  Not minor events that cause us to make minor changes like toothpaste brands or the like, but significant events that stop us in our tracks and cause us to desire or make drastic changes in our lives. Sometimes the transforming moment is more or less positive – “thin place” experiences of divine insight akin to the Japanese satori moments – but are more likely negatively experienced times when it feels like our life is threatened literally or metaphorically.  Tragedies of death, terminal illness, divorce, the devastation caused by addiction, traumatic accidents, severe consequences of attitudes or behaviors, etc. These are generally not welcomed in the moment of their arrival yet can become milestones marking genuine transformation in our lives, so much so that we eventually become grateful for the storm.  In truth, we don’t have to be grateful for the storm as much as our decision to capitalize on it, because storms in and of themselves do not always result in transformation. People must be very intentional for that to happen.

     Transformation requires seeing ourselves clearly. Sometimes tools offered from the Enneagram help, especially when clarifying varying levels of maturity looks like – we can use those descriptions to see how we are behaving in various sectors of our lives (if we are honest). I have found such mirrors very helpful in discovering where I need to do some work.  While I believe that simply changing my behavior alone can help create a better “mask” to grow into, I resonate more with the idea that fostering the development of my True Self – who I am when most fully living in The Way of Jesus, aligned and attuned with God – addresses the core issues that possess me. The Way Jesus lived, taught, and modeled still saves.

     As has been noted in Epperly’s earlier chapters, time spent in meditation and contemplation was critical for Jesus, Francis, Clare, Bonaventure, and every person who wants to be more fully aligned and attuned with God, for those who wish to grow in wisdom, stature, and favor with God and all people.  One incredible resource from the Franciscan tradition is a prayer attributed to Francis himself.  I invite you to read this prayer daily for a while, maybe using John Rutter’s choral expression to feel it more fully.  See what happens in your life when this prayer becomes your own:

The Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy. 

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive, 
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, 
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

All quotes, unless otherwise noted, are from: Bruce Epperly, Simplicity, Spirituality, Service: The Timeless Wisdom of Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure. Franciscan Media. Kindle Edition.

Bonus Material!

 Practical Steps.  I know that I lean very heavily on a “change the inside and the outside will change automatically” approach to behavioral change. Some prefer a more practical approach.  For those that do, here is a prescription for you:

• Gather a variety of mirrors to help you see yourself more clearly. METAPHOR ALERT! I refer to tools like the Enneagram that help you see what maturity looks like for varying personality types.

• Ask courageous others for their input.

• Track your behavior and feelings.

• Journal about your experience, consulting with deep friends and therapists as needed.

• Repeat for the rest of your life.

Brian McLaren describes the radical trust and resilience that spiritual practices can offer in difficult times: 

     We must prepare ourselves to live good lives of defiant joy even amid chaos and suffering. This can be done. It has been done by billions of our ancestors and neighbors. Their legacy teaches us to see each intensifying episode of turbulence as a labor pain from which a new creative opportunity can be born. Life will be tough; the only question is whether we will become tougher, wiser, and more resilient.… The communities that learn and teach … spiritual resilience will become vital resources for everyone. (We can hope that some Christian communities will take part in this work.) These individual and communal practices will help us dump bitterness, fear, disappointment, and toxicity and refuel with mercy, vision, anticipation, and equanimity. They will help us ignore what deserves to be ignored and monitor what needs to be monitored. They will help us reframe our narratives, so we can mourn, grieve, and lament … even as we imagine, celebrate, and labor for the birth of a better future.…

     To trust in the process is another way of saying to trust in an intelligence wiser than current human intelligence, to trust in a love deeper than current expressions of human love, to trust in a desire stronger and wiser than current expressions of human desire. Christians refer to this wisdom, love, and desire as God or the Divine or the Creative Spirit, and others can find their own ways of naming it…. To use familiar biblical language, we will need to walk by faith through the valley of the shadow of death [Psalm 23:4], always holding anticipative space for something beautiful to be born, especially during the most painful contractions (Brian D. McLaren, Do I Stay Christian? A Guide for the Doubters, the Disappointed, and the Disillusioned (New York: St. Martin’s Essentials, 2022), 190, 191.).

10 Signs of Emotional Maturity

·       Being flexible.

·       Taking ownership and responsibility.

·       Knowing that they don’t know everything.

·       They look for learning and growth from every opportunity.

·       They actively seek out multiple points of view to help inform their own.

·       They stay resilient.

·       They have a clam disposition.

·       They believe in themselves.

·       Approachability.

·       A good sense of humor.

Commentary from the SALT Project

Epiphany 4 (Year B): Mark 1:21-28 and Deuteronomy 18:15-20

Big Picture:

     1) In quick succession, Mark tells the stories of Jesus’ baptism, the calling of the first disciples, and now a third epiphany story in which Jesus’ identity shows forth (as you know, “epiphany” means “showing forth”): a direct and dramatic confrontation with an “unclean spirit.”

     2) Mark’s world is full of shadows and menace, riddled with demonic forces who distort creation and overwhelm hearts and minds. Human beings are cast as porous creatures open to spiritual influences: Jesus himself is driven deep into the desert by the Holy Spirit, and in this story, a man is possessed by an unholy one. On first glance, this way of understanding the world can seem archaic and foreign — but it’s precisely this historical and cultural distance that can allow such stories to shed new light on our lives today (see below).

     3) The Book of Deuteronomy presents itself as Moses’ parting words to the Israelites before they enter the Promised Land. His overall message is that (a) God will continue to expect fidelity and righteousness, and (b) God will provide them with support along the way, including “a prophet” who will be their guide and liaison with God. This shepherd will be “like me” — that is, like Moses, the archetype of all subsequent prophets. And the new prophet will be a gift responding to the Israelites' request for a go-between (at Sinai they became afraid of direct interaction with God, “this great fire” (see Deut 5:25)). In later Jewish tradition, some interpreters began to hear Deuteronomy 18:18 as an eschatological proclamation, pointing ahead to a great prophet whose arrival will signal a new age. This idea was in circulation in first-century Palestine, and was likely in the background as the Gospel writers wrote their accounts: see, for example, John’s story of Jesus feeding the five thousand (echoing Moses and the manna), after which the people say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world” (John 6:14).

Scripture:

     1) In Mark's crackling account, not only do the first disciples recognize Jesus’ authority “immediately” — an “unclean spirit” does, too, confronting Jesus as a threat and naming him as “the Holy One of God.” This confrontation serves as the iconic launch of Jesus’ public ministry, and so Mark’s message is clear: Jesus comes into the world as a healing liberator in direct, authoritative opposition to the death-dealing forces of evil and ruin in the world.

     2) What strikes the crowd about Jesus’ teaching is that he does it “with authority,” speaking in his own voice rather than citing other authorities in the familiar style of the scribes. In Mark and elsewhere, Jesus often references both scripture and tradition — but not here at the very outset, a vivid signal of his distinctive prophetic standing and power. For Mark, when Jesus speaks, we hear God’s voice; and when Jesus acts, we see God's action in the world. 

     3) And sure enough, Jesus doesn’t simply talk about healing and liberation. He heals and liberates. In this sense, his teaching is indistinguishable from his mission, and from who he is. In fact, the word Mark uses here for “authority” is exousia, a close cousin of the word that eventually ends up in the Nicene Creed to indicate “substance” or “being” or “essence.” Jesus speaks and acts from his essence. What he says, what he does, and who he is are all one and the same: he is “the Holy One of God,” the one who has come to heal and liberate the world.

Takeaways:

     1) Since many people today don’t typically interpret the world in terms of demons and exorcisms, it can be tempting to apologize for this passage as obsolete and unconvincing. But this is a false start. After all, when we read the Bible, we engage ancient texts from halfway around the world — it's only to be expected that they’ll feel cross-cultural and unfamiliar at first. Think of this as a kind of travel through time and space. The opportunity here is to stay open to how another way of thinking and living can shed new light on our own.

     2) Any number of death-dealing forces today are often experienced as "possession" or being "caught up" in dynamics that far exceed our intentions or control. Think of how addiction overwhelms individuals and families; how racism and white supremacy shape-shift over time; how anger consumes; how envy devours; or how all of us, even against our will, are complicit in creating the blanket of pollution overheating the planet (2023 set the record for the hottest global year on record). We may or may not call addiction or racism or the sexual objectification of women “demons,” but they are most certainly demonic. They move through the world as though by a kind of cunning. They resist, sidestep, or co-opt our best attempts to overcome them. And as we make those attempts, the experience can be less like figuring out a puzzle and more like wrestling with a beast.

     3) And so, for Mark, Jesus comes into the world to wrestle with these shape-shifting beasts. The word “salvation” comes from the Latin salvus, which means “health” — and in Mark, Jesus’ idea of salvation isn’t to give us a ticket to a heavenly land in the sweet by-and-by, but rather to bring new health into our lives and communities today. For the sake of all people and the whole of creation, the death-dealing forces around us must be confronted and, ultimately, overcome. To follow Jesus is to join him in just this kind of confrontation, to speak and act with boldness and clarity, to heal and liberate with our words and at the same time with our deeds. As Mark tells it, when Jesus says to the disciples, “Follow me,” he means follow him into the fray, into the shadows, into the menace itself. He means follow him into the work of building up from the ruins, of freeing the captives, of salvation (health!) in that sweet by-and-by, sure, but also and especially “immediately,” right here and right now.

     4) That’s the challenge. And the good news of the Gospel this week? That however formidable such death-dealing forces may seem, with God’s help, they can be overcome. However deep our wounds may be, with God’s help, they can be healed. In short, that the renewed health of God’s salvation and sanctification isn’t just possible — it’s on the way!

Taking a Fresh Path with Jesus

     Was there ever a time in your life when you felt so strongly about something that you made significant changes in your life, perhaps quite suddenly?  Some people fall in love and immediately make major life changes. Others come to grips with health concerns and suddenly change their lifestyle to preserve their lives. I know a handful of people who were so convicted about a need or cause that they changed careers to invest themselves more fully in their passion. There are folks that become so addicted to a sport or hobby that they make huge changes in their lives so that they can do it more often. In Mark’s Gospel, we’re offered a scene of Jesus calling his disciples:

     After John was arrested, Jesus went to Galilee preaching the Message of God: "Time's up! God's kingdom is here. Change your life and believe the Message."

     Passing along the beach of Lake Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew net-fishing. Fishing was their regular work. Jesus said to them, "Come with me. I'll make a new kind of fisherman out of you. I'll show you how to catch men and women instead of perch and bass." They didn't ask questions. They dropped their nets and followed.

     A dozen yards or so down the beach, he saw the brothers James and John, Zebedee's sons. They were in the boat, mending their fishnets. Right off, he made the same offer. Immediately, they left their father Zebedee, the boat, and the hired hands, and followed. – Mark 1:14-20 MSG

     Sometimes Westerners like us get immediately caught up in details. “What? They just left their nets in the water and boats on shore? What about their business? Was that a responsible thing to do, just walking away like that?” I think our focus on literalism and details shifts our attention away from Mark’s intent. He simply wanted to communicate to his readers that these first followers were so captivated by who Jesus was and what he was about to do that they simply changed their lives.

     St. Francis, Clare, and eventually Bonaventure all in their own way heard and heeded the call of God similarly.  They were captivated by the message. They couldn’t let it go. And while they spent the rest of their lives sorting out their beliefs, theirs was a following not just of intellect, but their whole lives. It is possible, especially in our time in history, to sequester faith to the realm of intellectual assent. But faith was never meant to be so limited.  As Bruce Epperly notes in his book, Simplicity, Spirituality, and Service:

     These spiritual pilgrims recognized that Jesus can be found only in the walking, both literally and figuratively. Francis and Clare discovered the living Christ by following in his footsteps, living in the style of Jesus, welcoming the outcast, embracing the lost, and putting God’s realm above all else...  A person can boldly claim to be an orthodox Christian, affirming the creeds of the church and the authority of Scripture, yet follow business and political practices that disregard planetary well-being, economic justice, human rights, democratic institutions, and concern for strangers and immigrants—the very creation that Jesus came to heal and save (35-37).

     Following Jesus, for the first disciples on through to these saints from the 12th Century all the way up to now and forever has always implied that our whole lives be consecrated: our minds, our hearts, our hands and feet, and our resources.  Everything. A brief overview of history reminds us of the terrors self-proclaimed Christians can inflict when they simply sacralize their prejudice and hatred with their distorted, limited allegiance to Christ. Just in the United States, slavery, the Civil War, Jim Crow, segregation, labor rights for women, children, and men, voting rights, protection for immigrants, LGBTQ, and all who are vulnerable have been both threatened and championed by people claiming faith as their motive! Some hold their Bibles draped in flags, restricting protection or rights. Others recognize that the person of Jesus was in solidarity with the vulnerable, as should everyone who dares to suggest they are followers of Jesus.  For Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure, they recognized Jesus’ death on the cross as the greatest example of his Way:

     The cross of Christ itself was a reflection—in fact, the culmination—of Jesus’s earthly ministry, the most dramatic example of the way of Jesus, the friend of sinners, healer, movement leader, and wisdom teacher.18 The cross was the ultimate manifestation of Jesus’s sacrificial living and commitment to put God before everything else, including life itself... In their spiritual adventures, Francis and Clare both sought to live in accordance with the mind of Christ, attuning every movement and choice to the sacrificial path of Jesus. They not only asked, “What would Jesus do?” but they also asked, “How would Jesus live?” and “Whom would Jesus love?” (Epperly, 40-41).

     I’ve got good news and bad news for you.  The good news is that wholeheartedly following Jesus is possible today, and that what that looks like is specific to a person, meaning that for most of us, taking a vow of poverty will likely not be required of us. The bad news is that if we have not seriously reflected – and continue to reflect – on what following Jesus implies throughout our lives, we are very likely to miss it and miss out.  Maybe you are one of the .0001 percent who very naturally find yourselves effortlessly falling in behind Jesus. How nice for you.  What about the rest of us? It only comes with time spent focusing on what it means to be a continually maturing follower of The Way.

     As Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure spent time reflecting, they found much fodder for thought in what I call Jesus’ stump speech, The Sermon on the Mount, where you can identify The Way applied quite broadly.  In particular, they contemplated the deep, counter-intuitive and counter-cultural meaning found in The Beatitudes, which centered them on the eternal Spirit of God more than their limited lifespan in the present.  It did not remove them from their context, but rather informed how they could and should live out their lives guided by the North Star of Christ:

If God is your ultimate concern, then your life finds its meaning in eternity and not in the anxieties of temporality. The Beatitudes do not devalue earthly life or our quest for shalom in our citizenship and political participation. They place our lives in God’s care, trusting fully in the faithfulness of God who promises that if we lose our life for God’s sake, we will gain peace of mind in this life and everlasting joy in the next. In trusting God, the temporal world of change and uncertainty becomes the pathway into divine companionship and eternal life. Everyday life takes on the spirit of eternity, and outcasts become angels in disguise (44).

     The Way of Christ exemplified on the cross is surely challenging, yet Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure all discovered that “in taking up their cross, [they] discovered that Christ was carrying it for them” (43)!

     If we think about it for a minute, we will realize that what is true of our relationship with God and “The Way” of Jesus (which is affirmed and taught by all enduring world religions) is also true of every other relationship in our lives. Relationships require work to grow – time spent learning and maturing together. Our health requires work – learning what it means to maintain ongoing physical health as our lives change and bodies age. Our mental health requires work – paying attention to what is going on in our emotional lives. Our relationship with ourselves is the same – it is possible for us to grow older without maturing, remaining a teenager well into senior adulthood. Our hobbies and interests take time and effort if we want to develop further. Everything in life is a type of relationship requiring work. Perspective matters, then. Some of us may hear the word “work” as a burden while others may see it as compelling. Perhaps it depends on the relationship? If we are in a painful season of a relationship, we may not want to develop it with work and attention, yet if it is something we feel great about the work is effortless.  Could it be that if we keep our attention on our wellbeing, we might find ourselves more motivated toward working on all these relationships? Or, taking a cue from politicians, perhaps we need to scare ourselves to action: what kind of life and faith will be experience if we “vote” for apathy?

     The exercises below from Epperly provide a range of ways to do the work of cultivating a growing, life-giving relationship with God from the perspective of following Jesus’ teaching and modeling.  May it help you in your becoming a fully human being experiencing all that shalom offers you and the world you impact.

FRESH SPIRITUALITY

Praying the Our Father

     The Lord’s Prayer, the Prayer of Jesus, joins mysticism, mission, and morality. Grounded in intimacy with God, living the Lord’s Prayer as Francis and his followers did inspires intimacy and reconciliation with friends and enemies alike and challenges us to embody God’s realm “on earth as it is in heaven.”

     In this spiritual practice, spend a few days prayerfully reading the three versions of Jesus’s Prayer noted in this chapter. One approach involves the following:

·       Set aside a time of silent prayer.

·       Ask for guidance in discerning God’s vision.

·       Read prayerfully each version of the Lord’s Prayer, with a time of silence between each version.

·       Give thanks for God’s ever-present and wondrously diverse guidance and inspiration.

·       Open yourself to divine movements in your life through words, intuitions, dreams, and encounters.

·       Let God lead you toward incarnating Jesus’s prayer in your personal life and relationships.

·       Give thanks for God’s all-encompassing grace, companionship, and guidance.

The Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13). Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, now and forever.

The Lord’s Prayer (adapted by John Cotter). Eternal Spirit Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver, source of all that is and that shall be, Father and Mother of us all. Loving God, in whom is heaven. The hallowing of your name echoes through the universe! The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the earth! Your heavenly will be done by all created beings! Your commonwealth of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth. With the bread we need for today, feed us. In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us. In times of temptation and test, spare us. From the grip of all that is evil, free us. For you reign in the glory of the power that is love, now and forever. Amen.

The Lord’s Prayer (adapted by Philip Newell). Ground of all being. Mother of life, Father of the universe, Your name is sacred, beyond speaking. May we know your presence, May your longings be our longings In heart and in action. May there be food for the human family today and for the whole earth community. Forgive us the falseness of what we have done as we forgive those who are untrue to us. Do not forsake us in our time of conflict but lead us into new beginnings. For the light of life, the vitality of life, and the glory of life, are yours now and forever.

Lectio on the Beatitudes

Francis and his followers encountered Scripture holistically, with heart, hands, and spirit, as well as mind. Scripture was a living text for them, intended to speak personally to each person in their unique situation, calling them to discover their calling. In this spiritual practice, we let the Beatitudes come alive through an updated and fresh approach to lectio divina, or holy reading, practiced initially in the Benedictine tradition. Contemporary people seldom have hours to let a biblical text soak in. Given our schedules, often ten to fifteen minutes is the most time we can set aside for spiritual practices. Moreover, contemporary people want streamlined spirituality in everyday language. In many ways, this was Francis’s goal as well. In our fresh approach to lectio divina, I invite you to:

·       Take a moment of silence, breathing deeply your connection with God and the world around you.

·       Take a moment for gratitude. For what are you thankful today?

·       Read the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3–12) twice, slowly, and prayerfully.

·       For three to five minutes, open your heart to any insights that come. Sometimes a random message is the most profound—a word, phrase, song (popular or religious), event, or image.

·       Focus on your insights for a few moments, letting them sink in, as you ask God for understanding.

·       Ask about its meaning for your life today and how following this insight might change your life.

·       Write down a few sentences to ground the insight in your journal.

·       Conclude with a prayer of thanksgiving, asking for divine guidance in embodying the insight throughout your day.

·       Throughout the day, remember your insight, noting where it might illuminate your current activities.

Being the Light of the World

     Described as the perfect Christian by Ernst Renan, and the Second Christ by Bonaventure, Francis sought to be a light in a world of chaos and upheaval, in which even the church and its leadership had lost its way. We need to see and be the light in our equally chaotic and wayward world, in which the values of Jesus are subverted and manipulated by those who claim to be the most orthodox Christians. In this practice, begin by reading Jesus’s affirmation of his disciples, then and now, pondering its meaning for your life.

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:14–16)

     When you have set aside fifteen minutes for stillness, find a comfortable place to sit, and breathe deeply and prayerfully, letting the breath of life connect you with all creation. As you breathe, visualize a healing and empowering light flowing in and through you, illuminating your soul and every cell of your body. Visualize this light filling you completely, bringing health and wholeness to mind, body, and spirit. As you exhale during this time of contemplation, visualize the light going forth, bringing peace and wholeness to the world.

     Throughout the day, seek to be the light in your activities, encounters, and relationships. In every situation, especially those in which conflict or tension arises, look deeply at those around you, discerning and bringing forth the light within them to bring God’s peace and wholeness.

FRESH PRAYER

Jesus, walk with me in paths of humility and simplicity. Show me your presence in each person I meet. Guide my steps to be of service to those I meet. Illumine my heart that I might shine brightly, bringing your light to the world. Amen.

All material referenced above is from Bruce Epperly’s book, Simplicity, Spirituality, Service: The Timeless Wisdom of Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure (Kindle Edition). Franciscan Media.

The Ever-New God

Eli’s sons were corrupt.  Like some modern-day politicians who are more interested in promoting themselves and enjoying the power of position, priests Hophni and Phinehas abused their power by skimming the offerings to satisfy their own gluttony and took sexual advantage of the women who came to them for help. Their apostasy would eventually catch up with them, resulting in their demise, yet despite their chicanery, God’s call was received by a new priest and prophet, to address corruption and help steer Israel toward shalom:

     The boy Samuel was serving GOD under Eli's direction. This was at a time when the revelation of GOD was rarely heard or seen. One night Eli was sound asleep (his eyesight was very bad—he could hardly see). It was well before dawn; the sanctuary lamp was still burning. Samuel was still in bed in the Temple of GOD, where the Chest of God rested.

     Then GOD called out, "Samuel, Samuel!"

     Samuel answered, "Yes? I'm here." Then he ran to Eli saying, "I heard you call. Here I am."

     Eli said, "I didn't call you. Go back to bed." And so he did.

     GOD called again, "Samuel, Samuel!"

     Samuel got up and went to Eli, "I heard you call. Here I am."

     Again Eli said, "Son, I didn't call you. Go back to bed." (This all happened before Samuel knew GOD for himself. It was before the revelation of GOD had been given to him personally.)

     GOD called again, "Samuel!"—the third time! Yet again Samuel got up and went to Eli, "Yes? I heard you call me. Here I am."

     That's when it dawned on Eli that GOD was calling the boy. So Eli directed Samuel, "Go back and lie down. If the voice calls again, say, 'Speak, GOD. I'm your servant, ready to listen.'" Samuel returned to his bed.

     Then GOD came and stood before him exactly as before, calling out, "Samuel! Samuel!"

     Samuel answered, "Speak. I'm your servant, ready to listen."

     GOD said to Samuel, "Listen carefully. I'm getting ready to do something in Israel that is going to shake everyone up and get their attention. The time has come for me to bring down on Eli's family everything I warned him of, every last word of it. I'm letting him know that the time's up. I'm bringing judgment on his family for good. He knew what was going on, that his sons were desecrating God's name and God's place, and he did nothing to stop them. This is my sentence on the family of Eli: The evil of Eli's family can never be wiped out by sacrifice or offering."

     Samuel stayed in bed until morning, then rose early and went about his duties, opening the doors of the sanctuary, but he dreaded having to tell the vision to Eli.

     But then Eli summoned Samuel: "Samuel, my son!"

     Samuel came running: "Yes? What can I do for you?"

     "What did he say? Tell it to me, all of it. Don't suppress or soften one word, as God is your judge! I want it all, word for word as he said it to you."

     So Samuel told him, word for word. He held back nothing.

     Eli said, "He is GOD. Let him do whatever he thinks best."

     Samuel grew up. GOD was with him, and Samuel's prophetic record was flawless. Everyone in Israel, from Dan in the north to Beersheba in the south, recognized that Samuel was the real thing—a true prophet of GOD. GOD continued to show up at Shiloh, revealed through his word to Samuel at Shiloh. – 1 Samuel 3:1-21 (MSG)

     Recall that a similar call was issued, received, and accepted by Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure, each in their own time and context.  The Church had become corrupted by the Empire that formed it, and over time the leaders reflected Hophni and Phinehas more than Jesus. The call of God is always toward shalom and not its opposite. Since God experiences time with us in history, God necessarily is ever-new, always affected by the unfolding of history which includes our choices to respond favorably to God (and/or not).  As Epperly notes:

     This same divine call centers all creation, moment by moment, and life by life. Creatures sing in unison with God, fulfilling God’s vision for their lives on land, sea, and air. God’s creative power in the world is invitational, not coercive. We can say no to God or embody God’s call in our own unique way. Neither our negativity nor our digressions nullify God’s loving care. God continues to invite us toward fulfillment through service and compassion, regardless of our responses. As Bonaventure notes, “God’s power is God’s humility; God’s strength is God’s weakness; God’s greatness is God’s lowliness.” (Simplicity, Spirituality, and Service, 26)

     Martin Luther King, Jr., also received a call to rebuild the Church, which had also conformed more to the culture than it transformed it.  Growing into his role as an American Baptist Pastor in the segregated South, he became the primary leader combatting racial discrimination with nonviolent direct action, leading people to bus boycotts and marches of civil disruption in an effort to draw attention to the tension created by an unjust, white-supremacist society.  Personally involved in some of the targeted marches, he was arrested multiple times.  On one such occasion he penned – in the margins of a newspaper! – his well-known Letter from a Birmingham Jail, where he wrote:

     Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial “outside agitator” idea. Anyone who lives in the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere in this country (King, 81).

     In the second half of his letter, he responds to his critics – white clergy – who were critical of his methodology.  King had to make the case for nonviolence: “Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and establish such creative tension that a community that has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue (King, 83).”  Just as we say that we must proclaim, promote, and pursue shalom with shalom, King noted that “over the last few years I have consistently preached that nonviolence demands that the means we use must be as pure as the ends we seek (King, 99).”  Nonetheless, his white critics wished he would let time do its work, be less radical, and essentially cause less disruption.  But King realized that such criticism was coming from those who had never shared his experience – or that of those resembling him for hundreds of years. Tragically, he called them out for their apathy in a time of such blatant immorality and illegality on the part of the church, the justice system, the police, and the culture at large.  His vision was based in a sober realism:

     “History is the long and tragic story of the fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups are more immoral than individuals. We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed (King, 84-85).”

     The stories of Samuel, Francis, Clare, Bonaventure, and Martin Luther King coalesce into some penetrating questions for me, and I think for all of us. The Ever-New God is ever-calling us as individuals and as a collective to embrace shalom as our end and means.

Where is the lack of shalom hitting your radar?

Where is the lack of shalom hitting your neighbor?

How are you hearing and heeding the call to shalom?

     I am embarrassed to say that for too long I was deaf to the call of shalom in meaningful ways, cocooned by the privilege into which I was born.  White and middle class, I was largely unaware and frankly uninterested in the plight of those who were not me.  I temper my self-criticism with the knowledge that the human experience includes (hopefully) maturity where such things gradually or rapidly or both come to our attention.  Ideally, when we are aware of the plight of our human brothers and sisters, our hearts break and we respond with love in myriad ways.  I wish I had been less gradual.

     It is what it is.  I cannot change my past. Yet I can choose a different future that is more responsive to shalom’s call to see, hear, inquire, and respond with love toward love.  I can choose to spend time understanding what King was experiencing – and what many still do experience.  I can choose to believe them.  I can choose to offer my voice, my prayers, my time, my resources to rebuild the church of collective humanity.

     May we all be more open to seeing our complicity with systems of oppression.

     May we all be more willing to repent of the sin of complacency.

     May we all be more valiant in following the Spirit’s call toward shalom, with shalom.

FRESH PRAYER:

     Heart of the Universe, thank you for the wonder of creation and the wonder of my own life. Help me to pay attention to the world in which I live. Help me to share the wonders of life in words of gratitude and acts of kindness. Help me to see beauty everywhere and be the embodiment of beauty, bringing beauty and healing to every situation. Let my heart beat with your heart, feeling your joy and pain, and companioning with you in healing the world. In Jesus’s name. Amen.

Practices to Implement

     Opening to God In this spiritual practice, reflect on the Franciscan affirmation “God and all things.” As you begin your day, make a commitment to attend to God’s presence throughout the day. Whether eating or working, talking with a friend or family member, walking, or driving, watching television, or interacting on social media, train your attention to God’s presence.

     When you become distracted, bring yourself back to your intention by taking a deep breath and repeating “God and all things.” Pay attention to the God-moments of your life, those events in which God seems more present than at other times. In these God-moments, deeply open to the messages you may be receiving from God’s Spirit moving through your spirit. Align yourself, with divine humility, to the moral and spiritual arcs of God as they flow through your life to those around you. (30-31)

     Franciscan spirituality is relational. We are constantly shaping the lives of others by our decisions and commitments. God and others are constantly influencing the quality of our own lives. We make a difference to God and God makes a difference to us, providing guidance, insight, and inspiration in every moment. God’s presence is inspirational and invitational. Accordingly, in the Franciscan spirit, God’s initiative supports and expands our own personal agency. God wants to be as free and creative as possible in terms of our impact on those around us. We are, as St. Teresa of Avila counsels, the hands, feet, and heart of God. We can, as St. Teresa of Calcutta asserts, “do something beautiful for God.” Throughout the day, in your conversations, interactions, and digital communications, make a commitment to add beauty to the universe. Make a commitment to add beauty to God’s life and the lives of all creatures. (31)

Beginning Again

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I invite you to review the following passages of scripture as we embark on a new series loosely based on Bruce Epperly’s new book, Simplicity, Spirituality, and Service, which I hope will help us all not only stay more centered and grounded in 2024, but be greater advocates for shalom as well, modeling deep love and peace as we call for it everywhere, for everyone and everything.  Before you read, take some deep breaths to allow yourself to calm down and become more fully present In this moment.

Genesis 1:1-5 NLT (final redacted version circa 400 BCE)

     In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters.

     Then God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. Then he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day” and the darkness “night.”

     And evening passed and morning came, marking the first day.

Joel 2:28-29 NLT (circa 4th or 5th Century BCE)

     I will pour out my Spirit upon all people.

     Your sons and daughters will prophesy.

     Your old men will dream dreams,

     and your young men will see visions.

     In those days I will pour out my Spirit

     even on servants—men and women alike.

Mark 1:4-11 NLT (Recalling Jesus’ baptism, circa 30 CE)

     This messenger was John the Baptist. He was in the wilderness and preached that people should be baptized to show that they had repented of their sins and turned to God to be forgiven. All of Judea, including all the people of Jerusalem, went out to see and hear John. And when they confessed their sins, he baptized them in the Jordan River. His clothes were woven from coarse camel hair, and he wore a leather belt around his waist. For food he ate locusts and wild honey.

     John announced: “Someone is coming soon who is greater than I am—so much greater that I’m not even worthy to stoop down like a slave and untie the straps of his sandals. I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit!”

     One day Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee, and John baptized him in the Jordan River. As Jesus came up out of the water, he saw the heavens splitting apart and the Holy Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice from heaven said, “You are my dearly loved Son, and you bring me great joy.”

Acts 19:1-7 NLT (recalling Paul’s travels in 52 CE)

     While Apollos was in Corinth, Paul traveled through the interior regions until he reached Ephesus, on the coast, where he found several believers. “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?” he asked them.

     “No,” they replied, “we haven’t even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.”

     “Then what baptism did you experience?” he asked.

     And they replied, “The baptism of John.”

     Paul said, “John’s baptism called for repentance from sin. But John himself told the people to believe in the one who would come later, meaning Jesus.”

     As soon as they heard this, they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then when Paul laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came on them, and they spoke in other tongues and prophesied. There were about twelve men in all.

     What strikes you about these scriptures? As I reflect on these passages, I am struck by the presence and role of the Holy Spirit and its critical importance in the faith of Jesus followers.  If we are to fully appreciate Paul, our goal is not simply to become more and more convinced of our theological positions and keep up on our repentance, but to stride with and be led by the Spirit of God.  Biblical study and theological clarity matter much: they both shape our paradigms of the nature of reality and the character of God. Yet without the essential role of the Spirit, there runs the risk of missing the whole thrust behind the Gospel of Jesus: we are loved and empowered by the ever-present work of God in our lives forever.

St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226) was born into privilege.  He was a well-loved socialite who enjoyed a good cocktail party as much as anyone and was known to be pretty good with the ladies.  One day, however, he came across a man with leprosy, and, instead of avoiding him with revulsion, felt the nudge to embrace him instead.  It was a liminal space moment when time stood still for him.  It was his satori experience that set him in a completely new direction away from his wealth and into total devotion to simplicity, spirituality, and service.  One day as he prayed in the dilapidated chapel at San Damiano, he sensed God telling him to “repair my church.” He took it literally at first, fixing up that chapel and two others before realizing that the call went beyond brick and mortar. He was called to be used of God to transform the Church.  His co-laborer, Clare (1194-1253), experienced a similar calling, as did Bonaventure (1217-1274) a generation later.  Each in their own way heard the call: “Repair the spirit of the church. It is in ruins and needs to be restored. By repairing the spirit of the church, you will repair your own life and experience the healing of purpose you need to find meaning and joy.”

     What was the context in which Francis and Clare found themselves? Bruce Epperly notes, “While the church shaped the empire, the empire also shaped the church, hastening the movement within the church from experience to doctrine, relationship to authority, equality to hierarchy, and simplicity to affluence. The simplicity of the wandering Savior gave way to opulence among the elite and poverty among the majority... Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure inspire us to adventurous spirituality: to re-enchant and heal our spiritual practices and religious institutions and to reclaim our vocation as God’s companions in healing the world. God’s center is everywhere, and each moment can be a gateway to divinity. Spirit-filled and Spirit-inspired, we breathe life into the world, providing spiritual resuscitation to revive faith in the future and healing for the world” (Simplicity, Spirituality, and Service, 13, 14-15).

     Do we need to heed the same call today?  How has American/Western culture, with its radically individualistic capitalism shaped the Church, all whilst the Church has believed too much in its culture-influencing power?  We need to hear and heed the call now as ever before.

     How we heed what we hear matters.  In a time of great division flamed by information and misinformation overload, how can we speak the Good News Jesus lived and taught? Like the one we claim to follow, ours is a task that embraces thoughtfulness, but absolutely requires mindfulness to ensure that the Spirit is driving us and not just our personal passion.  Richard Rohr notes that too often modern-day-prophets simply vocalize their anger, which only makes everyone more angry! I know I have certainly been guilty of that at times.  It was not healing even though it may have been cathartic. Rohr does not discount the reason for our anger – injustice is infuriating in light of God’s shalom! Yet that anger is not, as he notes, the full message. I need to hear and heed Rohr’s invitation and Francis’ example of resting in God, allowing God to calm me down, remind me that I’m loved, reset my thinking so that I can actually be of some help.

     Epperly invites readers into a spiritual practice that some indigenous spiritual seekers describe as “crying for a vision.” Pray for guidance to experience God’s path for your life. Gaze upon Christ and be open to his guidance. Pray for the patience to listen and respond to God’s call within the events of your life. Then listen to the voice of God in nature, synchronous encounters, personal intuitions, and spiritual visions. What we hear may not be clear and obvious, but it will enable us to go forward one step at a time” (Simplicity, Spirituality, and Service, 17).

     Julian of Norwich committed her life to this practice.  An English anchoress who received a vision in 1373, she wrote about her experience in “Showings or Revelations of Divine Love” — the earliest surviving book by a woman in the English language. Here’s an excerpt, laid out as a poem for your reading pleasure:

And in this he showed me a little thing
the quantity of a hazelnut,
lying in the palm of my hand, as it seemed.
And it was as round as any ball.

I looked upon it with the eye of my understanding,
and thought, ‘What may this be?’
And it was answered generally thus,
“It is all that is made.”

I marveled how it might last,
for I thought it might
suddenly have fallen to nothing
for littleness.

And I was answered in my understanding:
It lasts and ever shall, for God loves it.
And so have all things their beginning
by the love of God.

In this little thing I saw three properties.
The first is that God made it.
The second that God loves it.
And the third, that God keeps it.

      How might we encounter the communion elements similarly?  How might we pause with the bread and cup and simply appreciate the depth of meaning the elements themselves convey – far beyond the metaphor of substitutionary atonement? Perhaps we should look at the bread and cup with its grains and juice from ripe grapes and hear from God, as Julian did: “It is all that is made.”  Where does that take us?

     As we begin again this first Sunday of 2024, may we avail ourselves to Epperly’s “Fresh Prayer” (Simplicity, Spirituality, and Service, 17):

 Loving Creator, give me wisdom for the living of these days.

Help me to maintain hope for the future.

In listening, let me find a path forward where I perceive no way ahead.

Let me find guidance and companionship with Francis, Clare, and Bonaventure.

Let me see your face in all creation, especially in the least of those in the human and nonhuman worlds.

Let my listening inspire action to repair my community, church, and world.

In the name of the Healer Jesus.

Amen.

A Full Prophet

     As we draw this year’s meditations on The Prophetic Path to a close, Richard Rohr reminds us of the loving heart of the prophets: 

     We need the wisdom of a “full prophet,” one who can love and yet criticize, one who can speak their words of correction out of an experience of gratitude, not anger. We have to pray to God to teach us that. I don’t know how else we learn it. We can’t learn it in our minds rationally. God has to soothe our angry hearts and spirits. God has to allow us to come to a place of freedom, a place of peace, and a place of fullness before we can speak as a prophet.

     A prophet must hold on to the truth of their anger, especially as it is directed toward injustice—but the danger of the anger is that when we let it control us, we’re not a help anymore. That’s why we have so many false prophets in America and in the world today. They are so angry. I want to sit there and say, “I agree with you. That situation deserves anger, but you’re not a good messenger because you’re only making me more angry. You’re feeding your anger by letting it become your ego.” Of course, in my early life that was me. I think what we see in the Hebrew prophets is autobiographical. My early social justice sermons at New Jerusalem just edged people out of the room. I’m sure many of them thought, “I don’t think we want to hear Richard today. He’s on one of his tirades.” They saw me at my angriest when I had just come back from Latin America and Africa. Anger is usually a necessary starting place, but it is never the full message.

     That’s why I always go back to prayer. It’s the only way for me. I rest in God, let God massage my heart for a while, cool me down and say, “I love you. You don’t have to save the world, Richard. You don’t have to ‘play’ the prophet and you don’t have to do anything except what I tell you to do.” The more I rest there with God, the next time the words come out so differently.

We’ve got to learn how to discern the Spirit. We have to listen to our own hearts and discern where the voices are coming from. Are they harsh, angry, hurtful, resentful, cynical voices telling us we’ve got to go out and do some righteous thing? Or are they coming from a place of freedom and a place of peace?

     The prophet is the one who can be a faithful lover, who is truly seeking the whole and seeking the good, and not just seeking the self. We can tell after a while the difference between someone who is operating out of their own anger and compulsions, and someone who is operating out of the heart of God.

CrossWalkMoth: New Beginnings

Enjoy stories from CrossWalkers that connect us to each other and all humans everywhere, reminding us that we are a collective more than we are the divisions that separate us.

Bells Still Peal

“Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.”  George Bailey’s Clarence (Angel, Second Class), let the main character of It’s A Wonderful Life in on this little truth as Nick the bartender rang up a sale on his cash register.  At the end of the movie, little Zu Zu saw a bell ring on the family Christmas tree and quoted her teacher saying the same thing. “Atta boy, Clarence!” George responded as he was coming to grips with his transformative experience and one of its results: his angel got his wings.

     But seriously, every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings? That’s a lot of angels.  That’s a lot of wings!

     Wings = Responding Favorably to the Spirit: George, Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What does that even mean? If this story is guide, it refers to those moments when human beings or creation itself hears and responds to God, which is a response to love with love.  Sometimes we’re so entrenched in seasons and moments where love seems absent that we struggle to believe that God is still active. We need to pause, to be still, to allow moments to reflect. We may not get something quite as elaborate as George Bailey’s nightmare in Pottersville, but if we take a moment to breathe, we will begin to hear more and more bells ringing, sounding out the ever-present, never-ending truth that the Spirit of God didn’t become incarnate only at Jesus’ birth, but had been in and with us all along. Jesus spent his ministry ringing that bell, proclaiming that the presence of God is everywhere, which means the sights and sounds of love are, too.  In fact, it was Mary’s resounding “Yes!” to the invitation of God that set this season of bell ringing in motion, followed by Joseph’s “Yes!” All paradoxes in their own way, all moments of hearing and responding to the Spirit of God despite overwhelming fear. Bells pealed when those two humans responded favorably to the angel’s invitation. Bells still peal.

     When darkness defeans, mindfulness allows us to hear. We can easily be duped into thinking that all things that are “not love” are greater than the presence of love. Sometimes the noise of bad news drowns out the bells ringing the Good News.  Yet when we allow ourselves space to be still and quiet, a mindful, intentional act of employing our natural, built-in noise-cancelling headphones, we can hear – even if faintly at first – bells still peal.  We can choose to hear and see every strike of a hammer hitting a bell – however great or small – every act of love between a mother and child, between friends, between lovers, between people with opposing views, every time creation itself responds to love calling it forth to continue to flourish, every time a person or animal or tree or so many things we don’t yet know about giving of itself in sacrificial ways out of love, we hear it. Bells still peal.

     Bells Still Peal: Disclaimers, Suckiness, Choosing relationship – we can say yes to more pealing!

     The truth is that if a bell was rung every time creation and humanity responded to the Spirit’s invitation to see and act with love, all we would ever hear are bells pealing.

     There are parts of our lives with asterisks, disclaimers about things we wish had been different in our lives or life in general. Yet bells still peal.

     There are seasons of suck during our lives when we are caught in self-destructive patterns or in the destructive decisions of others or just random suckiness that are all part of the human experience. Yet bells still peal.

     There are opportunities to gather in seasons like this when we choose to ring the bells in our own way, with wishing people Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays and sending cards and attending parties and feasting together and exchanging gifts – the list goes on and on.  When we do, the bells peal and peal and peal.

     Longfellow. Nineteenth century American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow experienced deep sorrow. In 1861 he lost his beloved wife to an accidental fire.  In 1863 his son, without his father’s blessing, joined the Union Army to fight against the Confederate South. He was severely wounded in the Battle of Mine Run.  The sounds of canon fire and death were ringing in Longfellow’s imagination when he picked up his pen on Christmas Day, 1863 and wrote a poem entitled “Christmas Bells.” The poem was eventually set to music and became known as “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.”

     May you have ears to hear this Christmas Day – and every day – the ever-present sound of everlasting Love. The bells still peal.

Questions: Where is love showing up in life right now? What is Love calling you to do and become?

Christmas Bells

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play, 
and mild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom 
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South, 
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said; 
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; 
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men."

Relationships

The beginning of It’s A Wonderful Life lets us in on prayers lifted to God for George.  Viewers are then given an overview of George’s life, leading up to the awful mistake that his uncle Billy made with the year-end deposit.  George sought help from Mr. Potter – his rival and the only person with enough wealth to help.  Mr. Potter was accidentally handed the missing deposit – Uncle Billy’s innocent mistake – yet George took responsibility.  Instead of showing compassion – on Christmas Eve – Mr. Potter called the police, issuing a warrant for George’s arrest for embezzlement.  Desperate, George considered taking his own life so that his life insurance policy might save the Building and Loan. That’s when he meets Clarence and gets to see what the world would be like had he never been born.

     Once he realized how wonderful his life was, he prayed to live again.  When his prayer was answered, he was overjoyed, running like a fool through the town, all the way home to be with the people he loved the most – his wife and kids.  He was certain he would be arrested, but his joy could not be squelched.  He soon discovered that Mary made some phone calls to many of George’s friends.  Soon, these friends flowed into George’s house to offer their support in an old-fashioned Go Fund Me campaign.  Sam Wainwright telegrammed to offer more than three times the amount needed to satisfy the books.  Harry even flew through a storm to be with his brother at his time of need.  Overwhelming support came in, so much so that the arrest warrant was ripped to shreds.  It’s a beautiful scene.

     Most of these folks had accounts at the Building and Loan after – it was their money that was missing.  Why did the people come through for George in his time of need? Why didn’t they bring torches and pitchforks instead, given the word on the street about his alleged malfeasance?  The reason is obvious throughout the story. George frequently put the needs of others before his own. George valued people for more than what they offered him.  He may have been a banker by profession, but as a human being, he was not a transactional guy. He genuinely cared and they knew it. When word came around, nobody bought Mr. Potter’s story because they knew George’s heart and character. All they heard was that George was in trouble, and they rose to the occasion out of love for a man they knew and trusted.  Harry raised a glass and made a toast to his big brother, “the richest man in town!” Not literally, of course, but because of the love and support he had from his friends.  He heard a bell ring on his Christmas tree and noticed the book, Tom Sawyer, on his table with an inscription from Clarence: “no one is a failure who has friends.”

     Relationship is everything. George based his decisions not on what others deserved, but on who he was, which was a person who lived his life motivated and guided by love.  The people he loved were everyday folk who didn’t have a chance to own their own home apart from the Building and Loan. They were not people of position or title. Some had an ethnic heritage that brought with it racial discrimination.  Some, like Mr. Gower, deserved anything but grace after nearly killing a customer and smacking George on his sore ear. George loved unconditionally, which literally strengthened the community and buoyed everyone in their time of need.

     The Christmas story had this element in it as well.  Mary found support from her cousin, Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John the Baptist. Imagine the supportive conversations they enjoyed? In Bethlehem there was no room, but someone offered what little space they still had – a cave-barn – where Jesus was born.  Soon after, shepherds came to tell their experience of the heavenly host. Eventually wealthy men from the East came with precious gifts to the one born under a new star that somehow served as a GPS coordinate.  People showing up for people, sharing their stories, increasing everyone’s perspective and experience.

     The author of Luke’s gospel was especially focused on the underdogs, the overlooked, and the underrepresented of his day.  That’s why readers notice more women being represented than the other gospels.  Women were vulnerable. So were the extremely poor, like the shepherds working the graveyard shift, and those forced to shelter in a dung-filled-barn-delivery-room.  Luke wanted us to recognize that God was purposefully including and loving people who are usually excluded. Despite popular opinion supporting the false notion that material wealth indicated greater favor from God, the actual God of love chose to communicate expansive, radical love toward the key characters. Who could predict it?  Nobody.

     Jesus, being filled with the Spirit of that same God, was motivated and guided by that same expansive love.  He befriended anyone and everyone, often raising eyebrows in the process.  His fierce love inherently challenged those who did not live motivated by the same Spirit.  Some of these conspired to work together to get Jesus arrested, tortured, and killed.  Expansive love is sometimes as unnerving to some as it is inspiring to others.

     Jesus was not a lone ranger, either. He invested himself in the lives of disciples and the regular folk of every community he visited.  He chose to teach and learn in community because that’s where we learn the most.  His disciples learned how to love well, taking his message far beyond Jesus’ original audience.  They became known as people of The Way who welcomed all around the table as equals, emphasizing grace as their North Star.  Relationship is everything because love requires relationship to be fully realized. You can only learn so much about love in textbooks.  Real love is risked with others, reciprocated by others, for the sake of love itself.  In the end, love is the only thing that really matters, and being the primary nature of God, is the only thing that lives forever. You’ve heard it said that nobody on their deathbed wishes that they’d spent more time at work.  We all want to express love and be surrounded by love. Love compels us to want that for everyone.

     Who has shown you supportive love in your life?  How can you offer thanks to them and for them?  They may be dead – you can still give thanks – it will further fill your heart with love.  Who do you love easily? How will you show them deep love this Christmas? How might you embody love wherever you go like Jesus did?  Is it possible that we can make a loving impact through our relationships with everyone we meet?  Love is not pie. When we choose to give away love, it does not mean there is less for ourselves or anyone else.  The opposite is true.  When we choose to love, we end up with more love.

     The least likely actors to get roles in the original Christmas Pageant became fiercely loving. We are still talking about it because they got it and did it.

     George was overcome by love when everything was falling apart. Love replaced his fear and desperation with pure joy.  The opportunity to express love by his friends created a miracle as the house filled with love and laughter.

     Could it be that coming to grips with how much we have been loved and expressing genuine love toward others is what we all need more of?  How will you respond to love’s invitation today?

     Arab-American poet Naomi Shihab Nye recalls a transformative, unexpected occasion of generous acceptance (copied from the The Center for Action and Contemplation daily reading, Thursday, December 14, 2023):

     “Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal … I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.”

     Well—one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.

     An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. “Help,” said the flight service person. “Talk to her.… We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”

     I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke to her haltingly. “Shu-dow-a, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway, Min fadlick, Shu-bit-se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment.… I said, “No, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just later, who is picking you up? Let’s call him.”

     We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother … and would ride next to her.… She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends. Then I thought … why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her? This all took up about two hours.

     She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life, patting my knee, answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamoolcookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the mom from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie.

     And then the airline broke out free beverages … two little girls from our flight ran around serving us all apple juice and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

     And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

     May God inspire us to love expansively in relationships of many kinds this Christmas.

Suckfests

In the film, It’s A Wonderful Life, the lead character, George, definitely had his share of sucky seasons that would lead him to wonder if the movie required a different title.  Here is the lead character’s suckfest highlight reel:

·      As a boy, he lost his hearing in one ear while saving his brother from drowning.

·      He got smacked a couple of times in that same ear by his grief-stricken drunk boss, Mr. Gower.

·      He felt like he disappointed his dad in not wanting to continue the family business.

·      The same night he let his dad down, his dad had a stroke that led to his death.

·      George felt forced to lead the family business he didn’t want, delaying his dream of education and travel.

·      His brother, Harry, excelled in college and began living his dreams.

·      On his wedding day in the fall of 1929, after the stock market crash, he and Mary used up their honeymoon money to save the Building and Loan instead of traveling.

·      He faced rumors of an inappropriate relationship with his friend, Violet.

·      He was lured by Mr. Potter to leave the Building and Loan behind for enormous wealth.

·      Mr. Potter found and kept a Building and Loan deposit instead of returning it to George.

·      Mr. Potter called the police to issue a warrant for George’s arrest on Christmas Eve.

·      George’s little girl, Zu Zu, got sick.

·      George was reminded of his lack of wealth by his own son.

·      George blew up at his wife and kids.

·      Zu Zu’s teacher’s husband punched George in the mouth at a bar.

·      George got stuck with Clarence, AS2.

     The birth narratives of Jesus found in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke give us a glimpse of similar suckiness faced by Mary and Joseph. While the veracity of the birth narratives is questionable, enjoying the story is worth consideration, and may be the more important outcome both authors hoped for. Here is Mary’s suckfest highlight reel:

·      Mary was voluntold that she would become pregnant from someone other than her legal husband. She was a 12–14-year-old young woman.

·      Mary had to share the scandalous news with her parents, family, community, religious leaders, and Joseph – all of whom would doubt her story and pile on shame and guilt.

·      Joseph suffered his own level of humiliation as well, and certain pressure to justifiably dump her.

·      Mary had to endure all the physical and emotional challenges of being pregnant, but she did not likely feel much loving support along the way, and very little joy and love from her hometown (which is why she visited Elizabeth).

·      According to Luke, when she was full term, she had to travel 90 miles to Bethlehem – a four-day journey.

·      Coming into labor as she entered Bethlehem, nobody helped, and she and Joseph had to settle for a dung-filled, filthy barn-cave.

·      At some point during their first two years in Bethlehem, they had to flee to Egypt to escape infanticide ordered by King Herod. They stayed in Egypt until Herod died in 4 BCE.

·      According to Matthew’s Gospel, they had to relocate to Nazareth to build their new life, which meant that they had no family support.

     In both highlight reels there is a strong amount of normal suckiness that comes with life.  Suck happens. Accidents happen. Illness happens.  Things beyond our control happen.  Death happens.  All these things feel sucky.

     In both highlight reels there is also the presence of sucky characters who exacerbate the suckiness. Mr. Potter is the chief Suckmeister in It’s A Wonderful Life, ruled by power and greed. King Herod is the Suckmeister in the birth narratives, also ruled by power and greed.

     Every human being will encounter seasons of suck. Sometimes the suck is random, with no central figure to blame and no malintent.  Sometimes we must deal with Suckmeisters who, while they are still a mixture of dirt and Spirit, are so “clodded” up that the Spirit’s influence is severely impeded. And let’s be honest – there are times when we are not shalom-aligned and become someone else’s Suckmeister.  Or is it just me?

     What’s your suckfest reel include? How much of it is random “that’s life” suckiness? How much of it is because of a Suckmeister?

     Here’s something that we all know is true yet need to be reminded of often: we have limited control over the suck that will happen to us over the course of our lives.  While good choices generally set us up for healthier lives more so than poor choices, nobody gets through life suck free.

     Here’s another truth that most people hear about yet need to be reminded of repeatedly: we have a lot of control over how we respond to the suckiness of life.  Not full control, exactly, because sometimes our brain chemicals or deeply held paradigms severely limit our capacity. But! We have agency regarding our response to all of life, and that can make the difference between a positive impression of our lives or its opposite.  Victor Frankl’s well-known insight comes to mind: “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” Gandhi noted that “you can’t change how people treat you or what they say about you. All you can do is change how you react to it.” Henry Cloud chimes in as well, stating that “the difference between responding and reacting is choice.  When you are reacting, they are in control. When you respond, you are. Learn.” Sometimes we intensify and even prolong the suckiness in our lives by getting caught up in reactivity. 

     George’s response through the ups and downs of his journey? Honesty and good will. George was honest about his feelings throughout the disappointments. He was also expressive of his joy when those moments came.  He fell in love with Mary.  He celebrated his wedding day, and they made the best of their first night. He rejoiced at the prospect of having kids.  He was frustrated along the way and acknowledged it, yet he marked moments of joy as well, like the scene where he gave a speech at Mr. Martini’s new home even as he struggled with feeling unaccomplished when visited by his rich friend, Sam Wainwright. He showed anger toward Mr. Potter, and sorrow when he felt like he was washed up.  Honesty about our feelings is key to wellbeing.  When we stuff and deny what we are feeling, we limit our capacity for a fuller life experience.  I know – I’m a recovering stuffer.  Through it all, George continued to be a good person, working hard at the Building and Loan to make it possible for working class residents to buy their own home – a key piece of the American Dream then and now as it supports generational wealth.  His ongoing loving nature was evidenced by his relationship with his wife and his kids, and the climax of the story when he was reminded of how many friends he had.  We can learn a lot from this character in our choices to be honest about how we are feeling in a world that prefers everyone to be “fine” or “great”.  And we can be inspired to continue looking beyond our own wellbeing to make the world a better place.

     Mary’s response? The Magnificat (Luke 1:38, 46-55 NRSV). First, Mary’s acceptance of what has been share with her: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” And then, Mary broke into a song or poem or both:

     “My soul magnifies the Lord,

          and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

               for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.

     Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;

          for the Mighty One has done great things for me,

               and holy is his name.

     His mercy is for those who [revere] him

          from generation to generation.

     He has shown strength with his arm;

          he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.

     He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,

          and lifted up the lowly;

               he has filled the hungry with good things,

                    and sent the rich away empty.

     He has helped his servant Israel,

          in remembrance of his mercy,

               according to the promise he made to our ancestors,

                    to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

     The above Magnificat is magnificent because it showcases a decision to accentuate the positive, as the old jazz standard instructs.  She would certainly experience struggle, but in this moment, she was choosing to recognize the goodness that was inherent in this life-altering event.  She was seen and included in God’s unfolding story, treated with dignity and respect – she got a visit not a postcard.  She was dirt poor and powerless, being told by the power structure of her day that she was of little value. Yet she was feeling loved by God and chose to rejoice in that foundation for her life.  She felt worth in the eyes of God even as she was scorned by so many others.  Focusing on such a foundation can be a game changer. When we focus on the negative voices around us, we can be overwhelmed. When we focus on the message of love, value, and hope emanating from the still small voice of God, we are empowered to move forward.  Which she did. All the way through Jesus’ life until she watched him die on a cross.

     Jesus was no stranger to suckfests.  He was born into extreme poverty, a hyper conservative religious nationalism while living under the thumb of a foreign oppressor.  He knew what it was like to have very little money – most of his life, I suspect.  He knew what it was like to have broken dreams – did he ever fall in love or want a family or build a business? He knew what it was like to deal with sucky people.  From his being fully centered and motivated by the Spirit of God and directed by the North Star of shalom, he offered a lot of wisdom.  In part of his stump speech known as the Sermon on the Mount, he spoke a lot about how to approach life.  Taking time to be alone and quiet enough for us to sort out our thoughts and allow space for God to speak, structuring our prayer and life vision in a shalom centered way, being aware of how we see everything and its impact on our life and experience, and keeping perspective when suckfests happen are all part of Matthew’s sixth chapter.  And what about sucky people?  Earlier in his speech Jesus instructed his followers to love their enemies. Love the sucky people.  This doesn’t necessarily mean we buy them Christmas presents and invite them over for Christmas dinner. It does mean that we recognize – considering everything Jesus was teaching in his speech – that our mindset even regarding our enemies needs to be informed by the Spirit of God’s means and end of shalom.  Holding onto or nursing anger and hatred are not benign and do not yield shalom.

     Jesus was martyred, which for some may not be very encouraging.  Yet the reality is that you and I are going to die at some point. What are we going to do with our lives? The whole flow of shalom that was so fully represented in Jesus invites us to live lives that pursue and perpetuate love, beauty, peace, joy, harmony, wellbeing for all and more.  Remember: it’s a choice – you don’t have to choose this path. You will be well supported and surrounded by many who won’t and don’t follow the Way Jesus taught and modeled.  But as a pastor who has presided over hundreds of memorial services, I can tell you this: expressions of love are the only things people really want to remember.  Where much love has been evident, stories flow and inspire. Where little love has been present, there is much silence.  One approach to life stifles life itself in its grasping. The other approach experiences abundance of life overflowing despite occasional suckfests and sucky people so that, in the end, they can draw their last breath saying “It’s a wonderful life” – and so can those who bid them farewell.

     You may wish that you had an angel – Clarence or Gabriel – to speak to you about all of this.  You do.  Jesus, fully rooted in the Jewish tradition of shalom, is still remembered and celebrated today because of what he communicated to the likes of Mary and all others who felt unworthy.  Emmanuel is reality. God is with us – all of us – and can be trusted to guide us, empower us, encourage us, heal us every step of the way.  The vision caught – and is still being caught – so that millions upon millions have sensed God’s presence with them in pronounced ways. Jesus was instrumental in opening that experience up, starting with his own life and teaching and modeling it so others could, too.  So powerful is this truth that Julian of Norwich, who devoted her life to contemplation and meditation, in a moment of great clarity of God’s pervasive presence and passion, declared, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” Because, even during the suckfest with all the Suckmeisters sucking things up, God is with us, which means it’s still a wonderful life.

Disclaimers

     I have always been a fan of Frank Capra’s film, It’s a Wonderful Life. The movie wasn’t very popular when it first released.  It did win an Oscar, but only for their snow-making innovation. I remember in the 1980’s, as cable television was emerging, that one network played the movie 24/7 for weeks leading up to Christmas.  People began to bemoan it.  At some point, NBC bought the rights to the film and showed it only once, building it up for weeks, and invited celebrities to share their favorite scenes.  It was a huge hit.  Yet, regardless of the culture’s fickleness, it has remained one of my favorite movies of all time, and, given the number of times I’ve viewed it (and still look forward to viewing it again), let’s just call it my #1.  There is so much good material in the story that I think it deserves a teaching series this Advent – my 25th at CrossWalk!

     However, there are some disclaimers that I think deserve mentioning before we inch forward.  Varying levels of cringe exist in this film.  In no particular order, here’s a list off the top of my head (please add your own):

·      Cosmology.  This may not make others’ lists, but it makes me cringe: Angels are talking stars or constellations in the “heavens above”.  A literal heaven is called upon to help George Bailey in his time of need.  Clarence is called to serve.  When he explains to George that he is an angel sent to help, George rightly snickers that he is just the sort of angel he deserved – more bad luck.  As a fan and advocate of Open and Relational Theology (ORT), I don’t believe that God is “up there” but rather everywhere. Literal angels are problematic, too, as this seems quite unnatural and also interventionist, two red flags that would be waived by ORT.  Yet let me say clearly that while I disagree with the still popular cosmology depicted in the movie, I absolutely believe that God is present to and with us, and constantly responds to and in our lives. As a pastor trying to help people unravel limiting theological paradigms, this doesn’t sit well in my stomach.  Sigh.

·      Misogyny.  This film was released in 1946 and serves as a time capsule of that period.  Unfortunately, women are depicted almost entirely as supporting roles in a man’s world.  George’s friend, Violet, is valued mainly for her looks.  George’s mother is forced to run a boarding house because no man could provide for her in her old age.  And poor Mary, without George being born, was destined to be a pitied librarian.  Oh, the horror!  Capra reflected his time in history which did not view men and women as equals. Yet it should be noted that Mary was in many ways George’s partner, eventually saving the day and keeping her husband from arrest and likely imprisonment.  Women are viewed as objects in other ways as well, mostly valued for their sexuality, especially depicted by the character of Violet.  While some of her scenes are genuinely funny as she works the power that she has to her advantage, it still must be noted that her power largely was born from her ability to leverage her sexuality.  Sigh.

·      Racism.  The film is a mixed big on the racism front.  On the plus side, George and Mary are viewed celebrating the new home ownership by an Italian immigrant family.  This might not seem like a big deal today, but in that time, Italians suffered discrimination along with other Southern European descendants.  This sentiment was reflected in Mr. Potter’s calling such folks “garlic eaters”. Capra gets a point for inclusion.  But the film is dated in its treatment of African Americans.  George’s family has a housekeeper, Annie, who is black.  While apparently treated like family, she is still in the role of servant.  Also, some intersectionality shows up as Harry, George’s younger brother, gives Annie a slap on the rear in his excitement about the Prom.  A seriously cringeworthy scene, regardless of how lovingly she appears to be treated otherwise, or her affection toward the family at the end of the movie. Sigh.

·      Violence against children.  Mr. Gower would have been locked up, regardless of his emotional state that contributed to his smacking young George on the side of his head.  Repeatedly.  Whenever I watch this scene, I want to jump into the TV and tackle the old Pharmacist and give George a hug.  George is understanding in the moment – very mature for his age – but the act not only reflected that time in history when corporal punishment was normal, it served to perpetuate it.  Inflicting physical violence on anyone is bad. On kids? Deplorable. Sigh.

     There are other, smaller issues as well.  As I consider the above anachronistic offenses, should I reconsider my decision to build an Advent series from such a source? Should we “cancel” the film from our Christmas repertoire? It’s tempting. And popular. Lots of books and films and people have been “canceled” for less.  Yet the truth is that the birth narratives of Jesus as depicted in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke have cancel-worthy issues on their own, including the following:

·      Incongruency. Critical details in Matthew and Luke simply don’t match each other and cannot be reconciled.  Luke tells a story about a young, engaged Galilean couple who journey to Bethlehem for a Census – just in time for Jesus to be born.  Matthew depicts that couple as having lived in Bethlehem from the start. A simple fact check calls the story into question. Sigh.

·      Translation and Eisegesis.  Matthew, written with a Jewish audience in mind, wanted to make a strong case for Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah using prophetic fulfillment as a chief tool.  The author quotes Isaiah 7:14 – a virgin shall be with child – as a way of proving that Jesus was miraculously conceived and thus holy from the beginning.  Unfortunately, the author of the account used a Greek translation of Isaiah instead of Hebrew, which read “young woman” – not virgin. Matthew put the focus on the conception, when the original focus was on time: God was saying through Isaiah that things were going to get better by the time that one of the King’s daughters gave birth. No immaculate conception required.  How much has this mistranslation screwed things up? This was a clear case of Matthew hijacking scripture for his own mission.  Sigh.

·      Cosmology.  One reason Jewish people rejected Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah when the Gospels were written is the birth narratives themselves.  The increasingly Gentile audience welcomed a demigod Jesus since such a notion aligned with their Greek-and-Roman-mythology-informed theologies.  But the idea of a demigod was anathema for Jews.  The fact that Matthew and Luke were finally compiled and distributed after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE wiped out any proof-texting Matthew provided.  The Temple’s destruction invalidated Jesus’ claim as the anointed one who would restore Jews to strength and dominance, and penal substitutionary atonement became moot at the same time as Judaism moved away from such a system of attaining God’s favor.  Sigh.

·      Rape, Adultery, or Both?  Mary is celebrated as a heroin in Luke’s birth narrative as she welcomes what is going to happen to her, which she apparently has no control over.  In essence, she is going to be impregnated by an unwelcome guest.  Is this rape? And since she is legally bound to Joseph, does this also qualify as adultery? All part of God’s will?  I love Mary’s Song as much as anyone, but that doesn’t take away from the plain facts of the text. Sigh.

·      Misogyny.  The Christmas Story is a time capsule.  Women are considered property even if they are celebrated as in Luke’s story. Sigh. 

·      Hospitality.  Luke’s version paints a picture of a truly incredible – not credible – lack of hospitality among the residents of Bethlehem.  Small village as it was, in such a part of the world where the hospitality ethic loomed large, there is no way that a pregnant woman going into labor would be rejected shelter.  Pinocchio alert!  Sigh.

     In light of the above, should we cancel the Gospels?  Should we cancel Christmas? Many people have, for the reasons stated above.  That’s fair.  Their choice.

     I wonder if the very reason we might cancel these two stories – Capra’s and the Christianity’s – is why we should keep considering them. Our culturally-derived inclination to wholly reject that which is imperfect goes too far, arrogantly dismissing and disrespecting our human ancestors in context. When we make such an error, we inadvertently cancel ourselves, for who can say that their story is flawless? Who has a crystal ball that can go into the future and say that there were no cringeworthy scenes in the reels of our lives?

     This is no way is to excuse that which is inexcusable.  Don’t read that. Read this: both stories communicate that something beautiful happened – is happening – even as ugliness is also happening.  That’s real.  That’s the story of our flawed, cringy lives. That’s why these stories offer hope. When we reflect on what those stories offer, we can live truly authentically with ourselves, knowing hope is with us even though not everything is good. It also may foster the capacity to view others more graciously as well when we embrace the reality that we are all mixed bags, all varying degrees of matter and spirit.  When we fashion our eyes accordingly, we may be able to see that it’s a wonderful life despite the difficult seasons and difficult people along the way who often command the spotlight of our attention. May this series help prepare our eyes for this year’s coming of Christ in new ways in your life and in our world.

Process Questions.

1.     What are your first reactions to the film, It’s a Wonderful Life? How was it embraced – or not – by those around you?

2.     How were the birth narratives of Jesus presented to you? How has your relationship with the stories evolved over the years?

3.     How have you witnessed cancel culture? When do you think it is justified? When is it not?

4.     Should you be canceled? Why or why not?

5.     How have you been influenced by culture’s demand for perfection as you view others? As you view yourself?

6.     When have you been able to appreciate or respect the reality that we are all mixed bags of dirt and spirit? What affect has such a realization had on you? How does it inform hope?

Matthew 1:18-2:1 NRSV

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

     In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea...

Luke 2:1-7 NRSV

     In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

Gratitude's Response

     “Please, Pastor, talk more about politics!” said no one, ever.  “Instead of sharing what we’re thankful for this Thanksgiving, let’s debate presidential candidates.” No thanks.  “For Christmas, please get me more streaming subscriptions to 24-hour news services.”  I’d prefer sharing a bed with the fleas from a thousand camels.  Political discourse in church these days is as welcome as a dead fly in a punch bowl.

     Conventional wisdom instructs polite society to avoid talking about religion and politics to keep things civil, peaceful.  The bummer for Christian pastors is that religion is supposed to be our wheelhouse, and our central character, Jesus, was deeply political!  A strong amount of denial and avoidance is required to neglect touching the third rail of politics.  Yet if we are to be faithful to the teaching and example of Jesus, we have no choice.  His Sermon on the Mount was full of political commentary, including instruction on nonviolent resistance. Going the extra mile, turning the other cheek, giving the shirt off your back – these were not tips on how to be a nice person – they were nonviolent acts of disruption designed to highlight injustice.  His comment on paying taxes unequivocally challenged Rome.  His criticism of elite Jewish leaders’ greed in the face of poverty spoke into unequal systems of distribution.  Jesus centered his life and mission on shalom – the expansive Jewish word that is sometimes understood simply as “peace” yet runs much deeper.  It refers to holistic wellbeing for everyone, healing deep wounds both physical and emotional, a source of everlasting abundance from the heart of God, allowing harmony in and among all aspects of creation.  Because Jesus was animated and motivated by shalom, he simply called attention to its absence (or opposite) when he saw it. On one occasion, the light of shalom shone upon a particularly short-statured tax collector.

     Zacchaeus was a wee little man.  A wee little man was he. He climbed up in a sycamore tree for the Lord he wanted to see. And as the Savior came that way He looked up in the tree. And he said, “Zacchaeus, you come down, for I'm going to your house today.”  How many of you began humming the tune along with these lyrics? This is one of those stories that gets relegated to children’s sermons. Yet the story has a much deeper purpose than to highlight a vertically challenged Jewish man.  Zacchaeus was a tax collector. Viewed as a traitor to the Roman Empire, he was also known to be a cheat – ripping off his fellow countrymen with the blessing of Caesar, enriching (and isolating) himself each day.  He was a Capitalist before the word meant anything – getting away with as much as the market would allow.  Which was a lot.  Diana Butler Bass, in her excellent book, Grateful, notes that he was a climber – not just of trees, but of the social ladder.  His livelihood was based on a tit for tat model that was all about getting what you could without regard for others.  The ancient world he inhabited assessed people based on their societal position.  Zach didn’t climb the tree simply because he was short – he was literally maintaining his position above everyone else.

     When Jesus called him to climb down, he was inviting dialogue on level ground, as equals.  Further, instead of waiting for Zach to invite him to dinner, which would have set in motion the tit for tat system, the “I blessed you with dinner, so you now owe me a favor because I’m big and you’re small” cycle, Jesus invited himself over to dinner, to bless Zach with his presence, which he in no way deserved.  This was a deep reversal that would have broken the internet if they had one. Jesus’ invitation to dinner was also more than a meal – it was an invitation to operate from a shalom-centered worldview, where decisions and relationships aren’t calculated by who can do what for who, but by the unitive vision that positions everyone as equals in the unifying love of God.

     And it was, in fact, an invitation, even if it sounds like Jesus was forcing his way into an expensive meal with good wine.  Zach could have responded differently by maintaining his position of authority and rank. He could have laughed Jesus off, “In your dreams, preacher-man!”, and we would note that a guy with power and money chose to reject Jesus’ offer.  Zach had the power and freedom to refuse.

     But he didn’t.  Instead, he accepted Jesus’ invitation not just to dinner, but to a different way of being, born from grace. According to Bass, his declaration that he was going to repay everyone he ripped off was effectively a resignation from his role as Chief Tax Collector.  He was done marching to the beat of Rome and all it represented. He said yes to following the way of shalom.

     This story reflects well key principles promoted by Open and Relational Theology (ORT).  In contrast to more classic theological renderings where God acts as the ultimate authority, occasionally overriding human choice and demanding God’s will be done (or suffer the consequences), we witness a God who, in relationship with these characters, is open to what comes next. In this story, Jesus rolled into town already famous for operating by a different vision, one where God is motivated primarily by love and not power, and where genuine invitation implies real relationship and an open future.  Jesus had agency to invite Zach down from the tree, and further agency to invite himself over for dinner as equals, all motivated by love.  There was no coercion here. Only loving invitation.  Shalom’s light shone on everything out of place given the ancient system of reciprocity that kept power in the hands of very few and equality out of reach.  Not even God could know for certain how Zach would respond, or, if we push it further, how Jesus would respond to the nudge to start this whole exchange.  If Jesus was truly human, even he had the agency to not ask Zach to climb down to level ground and share a narrative-and-table-flipping meal – no Jewish person would blame him for refusing company with such a traitorous thief. But Jesus embraced a shalom-centered vision to see with eyes of love even those believed to be enemies of the state.  Jesus said yes to shalom. Zach did, too.

     This is how God operates in the world according to ORT – constantly wooing us to recognize where Shalom needs to develop more fully and accept the invitation to say and do something to facilitate its flourishing.  It requires risk. It is terrifying as it bucks systems and the powerful people benefitting from them.  Sometimes those people conspire to squash such visions of Shalom to maintain their position, even to the point of killing an innocent, poor, nonviolent, anointed prophet-preacher during a Passover festival in Jerusalem. God did not stop such behavior because God is not controlling, but always operates from love which accommodates individual agency. Yet what beauty blooms when love, grace, and shalom are fully chosen! What generosity flows from such embrace of love so freely and fully given! Dinner is served! Wine flows! Tax bills shredded! Refunds received!  Jesus’ and Zach’s respective embrace of God’s invitation of shalom opened the door to more and more shalom.

     Did you catch that this story addressed a contentious political problem? Challenging political issues in this process of invitation and response are displayed throughout the scriptures.  This is why the rights and protections for widows, orphans, and refugees/immigrants expanded over time.  As people lived and examined their political reality, they recognized that shalom required greater protection and provision for the most vulnerable among them.  Someone felt the nudge from the source of shalom (God) that was drawing attention to the absence of love and justice.  Someone saw the vision and mustered the courage to draw others’ attention to the discrepancy, which was welcomed by some but not all.  Sometimes human beings do not behave humanely toward the most vulnerable, sometimes dismissing or denying the reality of injustice because to address it would require change and sacrifice.  Sometimes human beings have been known to resist shalom. The Prophets were some of the greatest advocates of shalom in their day, pleading to leaders and the general populace to embrace shalom for the benefit of all. Sometimes their messages were heeded. Sometimes the prophets lost their lives because it can be easier to kill the messenger than to accept the message.

     As people of faith in the Christian tradition, and informed by Open and Relational Theology, we recognize that Jesus’ teaching and modeling serve as our primary way of seeing and being in the world.  That means we are invited to live by the light of shalom as we shine that light wherever we go, illuminating shadowy places.  We are invited to risk identifying what doesn’t align with shalom, standing for justice and wellbeing for everyone that will be uncomfortable for the messenger and the receivers. This is a choice to talk about the things that relational, familial, local, and global systems will not entirely appreciate. Yet this is our invitation to embrace should we desire more shalom anywhere and everywhere. This is choosing to talk about the political challenges we face, appealing to a much larger dream than that offered by binary blue or red visions. This is an invitation to receive the cup, even if it means we lose our lives while preserving our being. To drink from that cup is to sip from that everlasting well of living water, or the wine that will pour so prodigiously as envisioned in the eschaton. In this context, to choose pain or suffering or worse is to choose life, to choose love, grace – shalom – come what may.

     This process-oriented vision also implies that ethics, laws, attitudes, and policies require continual reexamination and potential revision – the Law isn’t as fixed as some proclaim given the evidence of Scripture.  Consider Paul, who was once the leading advocate for strict adherence to Jewish Law, only to completely reverse course in favor of grace after encountering the risen Christ.  Perhaps process itself is the actual basis of reality as Alfred North Whitehead proposed, requiring us to remain limber as we continually reimagine what shalom is calling for in our ever-changing context.  Could this mean that in our contemporary world shalom may be calling us to revisit the protections and provisions for the most vulnerable among us today, which still include widows, orphans, and refugees/immigrants as well as others? Could it also suggest that there may be voices of vulnerability that are only hinted at in ancient scripture? Vulnerabilities related to race, class, economics, climate, and human sexuality come to mind. What is shalom inviting us to see, hear, and do?  What needs to change to allow more shalom for all?  If we who claim to be animated and motivated by shalom don’t stand up and speak out, who will?

    At such a time as this, when division feels especially pronounced, may we choose the higher and deeper and wider vision of shalom that invites us and all of creation toward greater wellbeing. May we be truly encouraged – filled with courage – to lovingly, graciously invite others to a more beautiful vision that is never forced. May we together see more beauty and peace bloom because we have chosen to plant seeds and tend the garden of which we are stewards. May shalom be our means as well as our end, so much so that people may forget to become offended by our political talk because they cannot deny its beauty and would not dare return to its willful absence. May we be known – especially as we engage in political discourse – for embodying the shalom we desire to foster. May we celebrate when invited to usher more shalom into being, because we don’t have to do this – we get to do this.

Process Questions…

1. Why is talking politics and religion discouraged in social settings?

2. What do we love to hear people talk about?

3. What if our political and religious talk was born from a beautiful, shalom-filled vision instead of talking points? What would that look like?

4. What does this mean for you globally? Nationally? In California? Napa? In your circles of community? In your most important relationships? In your relationship with yourself?

Grateful Together

If you are a San Francisco Giants fan, 2010 will forever remain etched in your memory. Watching Buster Posey sprint out to the mound to embrace Brian Wilson after he threw the torturous last pitch past the Texas Rangers batter was sheer bliss.  It would have been great for a Giants fan to read the description of each play silently rolling across their MLB app, but what turbo charged that 2010 clench was the collective of people joined together in celebration.  There were enough people sporting orange and black in Texas to make some noise, but there were plenty fans watching in the Bay Area to make a spectacle.  Our neighborhood was filled with the sounds of shouts, banging pots and pans, car horns-a-honking. Of course, 2012 and 2014 were also special in their own way, each with their own storyline. But 2010 stands out because it was the first championship won since moving to San Francisco.

     The Warriors, in 2015, were largely dismissed as they made their way to the championship series, namely because they didn’t have a “big” as they took on Lebron James and the Cleveland Cavaliers.  Yet the Splash Brothers (Steph Curry and Klay Thompson), Andre Iguodala, and the timid, soft-spoken Draymond Green made up for their short stature with a different kind of approach – air strikes from the three-point range.  It had been 40 years since they won the title, and when they did, the Bay Area erupted again as a collective whole.

     We can certainly experience joy individually, but there is an amplification that is somehow greater than the sum of its parts when gratitude is shared in community.  Early in the Christian movement, after Jesus was killed and yet experienced in a different way beyond the tomb, the community of faith met as the Passover Feast came to its conclusion:

     All the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals (including the Lord’s Supper), and to prayer.

     A deep sense of awe came over them all, and the apostles performed many miraculous signs and wonders. And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity— all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved. – Acts 2:43-47 (NLT)

     As Diana Butler Bass noted in her book, Grateful, the feasts/festivals of ancient Israel were unique in that they reversed the structure of the gifts and gratitude, tit for tat culture that dominated the Roman Empire: “In festivals,” Biblical scholar and professor Walter Brueggemann notes in his commentary on Deuteronomy, “Israel comes to a fresh realization that its freedom is not its own work, but is a gift gladly given by YHWH... Festival is the capacity to enter a way of life in which all other claims, pressures, and realities can be suspended.” In short, festivals – the great communal celebrations of gratitude – modeled an alternative community, one based in abundance and joy. Festivals are a microcosm of how life should be (107).  Israel made their way to Jerusalem to practice life in a different way, and this was taken to a deeper level by the new community of faith trying to live into the Way taught and modeled by Jesus.

     The Eucharist – a name used by some Christian traditions in reference to the Bread and Cup, Lord’s Supper, or Communion – was primarily an act of celebration that stood out in ancient times, as Bass notes:

     The Eucharist does not really resemble pagan harvest celebrations. There, the emphasis is on pleasing the gods and imploring them to send more bread and wine next year. Rather, the Christian celebration echoes those ancient Hebrew festivals in which the Jews recognized and received God’s gifts of abundance and, with humility, returned gratefulness. No need to please or plead, for God’s gift is all of creation – and these gifts surround all people through all time. God does not need to be convinced to give or begged to send favor. But human beings need to be reminded that abundance is the nature of existence. The Jews went to Jerusalem two or three times a year to remember this and give thanks for it (Grateful, 113).

     Further, the language used to describe the flow of such a remembrance served to shape the underlying understanding of God’s relationship with creation in a counter-cultural way:

     When Jesus handed bread to his friends, he said, “Receive, feast” – receive, not take. To receive gifts and to give thanks is the story of faith. To shift the word removes any connotation of economic exchange and ownership and reaffirms that the Eucharist is a free gift. Grace and favor are for all, to all, and with the whole world. Receiving, not taking, is the very meaning of our shared humanity, and it is the thread of community... Giving thanks is the primary communal emotion of Christianity (Diana Butler Bass, Grateful, 114).

     Taken together, we see Jewish people flooding Jerusalem to practice their different Way of being.  The Jesus community stepped it up in potent ways with the Eucharist, celebrating the abundance of gifts lavishly bestowed on all creation by God without anything expected in return – gifts simply received.  Further, because Jesus was radically inclusive, this table fellowship would witness a very strange collection of folks around the same table – people who would otherwise never dine together. This would become a marker of “The People of the Way” as it spread throughout the Roman Empire as it practiced and promoted equality and equity at a time when that was severely restricted culturally.  To be clear, the growing community of faith brought together people of different social and economic classes, different ethnicities and backgrounds, different lifestyle choices, etc.  They were attempting a classic American Thanksgiving Meal in cities all over the Empire. And they succeeded – although with significant bumps along the way.

     Jesus, of course, modeled radical inclusion as he himself grew to understand the expansiveness of the love and grace of God.  Rather than distance himself from people who were socially outcast for various reasons, he went to them.  In short, wooed by the grace of God, he empathized with those who suffered.  As Bass notes, “Ultimately, gratitude is an aspect of empathy. To ‘empathize’ means to ‘feel in[to] or with’ another, to understand and be with others emotionally. If you are thankful for something that cuts you off from others or sets people at odds, it may not be genuine gratitude. It may be an emotion birthed in fear or control. Gratitude connects us, even across racial, class, and national boundaries, allowing us to feel together. We reach out toward one another. We are elevated toward doing good. We might share the ‘frenzy’ of gratefulness, We might find ourselves serving others or dancing in the streets” (Grateful, 103).  What do we witness in the Book of Acts, chronicling this new movement of faith born from the counter-cultural Jewish tradition? The realization of what Bass describes: a form of dancing in the streets that was so contagious that more and more people wanted a piece of it for themselves, finding themselves joining in the dance. The gratitude experienced widened the table and deepened the conversation to foster empathy – depth of shared experience that connects us to each other.

     The vision of the past can be manifested today.  As you gather this Thanksgiving, how can you foster empathy for each other? How can you encourage deeper, more vulnerable sharing and more fully engaged active listening?  Perhaps when we get beneath the surface of shallow responses to “what are you grateful for” and ask for more, we might share more deeply and find that the folks around the table actually care.  When we feel cared for – which happens when we are truly heard – we just might find ourselves overwhelmed with gratitude, naturally respecting and loving each other as equally beloved. May it be so.

Gathering Together in Thanksgiving

     Take a moment to reflect on your life over the last 12 months. What challenges have you faced? What would make your highlight reel? Were there any “seasons of suck”? Paul encourages his audience to be thankful in all circumstances, which is not the same thing as being thankful FOR all circumstances.  Considering your past year, what are you grateful for and why?

     Need more ideas for starting deeper conversation regarding gratitude?  Try the following from Gatitude.org.

Thanksgiving Blessing, by Adam Lee

As we come together to share this meal, let us first remember how it came to us and be thankful to the people who made it possible.

     This food was born from the bounty of the Earth, in warm sunlight, rich earth, and cool rain.

     May it nourish us, in body and mind, and provide us with the things that are good for living.

     We are grateful to those who cultivated it, those who harvested it, those who brought it to us, and those who prepared it.

     May its consumption bring about the pleasures of friendship, love, and good company.

     And as we partake of this food in each other’s company, as what was once separate from all of us becomes part of each of us, may we also remember what we have in common and what brings us all together.

     May this sharing of food foster peace and understanding among us, may it bring us to the recognition that we depend on each other for all the good we can ever hope to receive, and that all the good we can hope to accomplish rests in helping others in turn.

     May it remind us that as we reach out to others to brighten their lives, so are our lives brightened in turn.

Personal Praxis

Please enjoy the following great quotes from Grateful, but Diana Butler Bass, as well as a reflection below.

We need to remember when gratitude arose from failures, not just successes... Honest hindsight does not foster nostalgia. It puts us in touch with gratitude. Looking back offers the opportunity to rewrite our own stories in more constructive and positive ways... Can you remember an event that was painful at the time, but that now makes you feel grateful?  Remembering the actual past – even if that past was difficult and filled with ingratitude – allows us to see the past from an angle impossible at the time and paves the way for fuller appreciation of present joys. (Bass, Grateful, 70)

 If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is be present in the present... gracefully. – Maya Angelou

We can choose to believe that we are autonomous beings in complete command of our own lives, reliant upon no one and nothing but ourselves. We can choose to focus on our failures or our losses, on what we feel entitled to or what we deserve. We can choose anger, fear, resentment, grief, hubris, or pain. We can choose to live our lives stuck in our worst moments. We can choose to believe that everyone and everything are against us. We can choose to define ourselves on the basis of someone else’s violence, prejudice, or injustice toward us. We can choose to define life as a zero-sum game. We can choose every negative philosophy, theology, or ideology that cuts us off from grace, and we can choose to think there is no one and nothing to thank. – Diana Butler Bass, Grateful, 87

  Those who think they can do it on their own end up obsessed with measuring their own moral muscle but never get around to exercising it in real life. Those who trust God's action in them find that God's Spirit is in them—living and breathing God! Obsession with self in these matters is a dead end; attention to God leads us out into the open, into a spacious, free life. – Romans 8:5-6 (MSG)

  Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be. – Matthew 6:21 (NLT)

  The Christian scriptures liken gratitude to joy, a “fruit of the spirit.” Gratitude is not only an emotion; it is something we do. But it is not a program. It is like tending a garden. It takes planting and watering and weeding. It takes time and attention. It takes learning. It takes routine. But, eventually, the ground yields, shoots come forth, and thanksgiving blooms. – (Diana Butler Bass, Grateful, 89)

  Intellectually, I understand what Bass is getting at in this section, particularly with the way we think about the past.  I am, in general, a very optimistic person.  Sometimes too much so.  It usually means that I have a positive disposition and outlook.  As an Enneagram 3 Performer, I suppose this works for me – “never let ‘em see you sweat” and “keep smiling” are a way of life for me.  The downside? I am my own worst critic, which is really saying something!  I am very optimistic and positive about the present and future yet am often hard on myself in retrospect much more so than others.

     The truth is that I am so hard on myself that sometimes I am unable to really appreciate where I’ve been, how far I’ve come, and what I’ve done, even as I am grateful for my resulting life story.  There are moments, however, when my mind slows down and I see things more clearly, when I am also able to view my past with eyes of grace.  In those moments, I feel peace, and even gratitude – not for my shortcomings nor the hurtful actions of others, but for what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown.

     I think it really does come down to tending the garden of gratitude.  Without such attention, I think the weeds of worry and self-deprecation would consume me.  I think this is the human experience, learning the rhythms that foster the life we all want – one marked by gratitude for that life, right? One full of love and joy and all the other fruits of the Spirit.  This is an exercise, a discipline, a necessity that must be prioritized, not because of any threat from God but for the deepest desires of my life.  Sometimes I have seasons when I nail it.  Sometimes I have seasons when I neglect it.  Yet the Spirit of God is always wooing me back, always welcoming and meeting and staying with me as we pull weeds together.  Such memories motivate me forward, give me hope, and, as Bass noted, thankfulness blooms.

Process Questions.

How has the following quote been true from your experience?

We need to remember when gratitude arose from failures, not just successes... Honest hindsight does not foster nostalgia. It puts us in touch with gratitude. Looking back offers the opportunity to rewrite our own stories in more constructive and positive ways... Can you remember an event that was painful at the time, but that now makes you feel grateful?  Remembering the actual past – even if that past was difficult and filled with ingratitude – allows us to see the past from an angle impossible at the time and paves the way for fuller appreciation of present joys. (Bass, Grateful, 70)

Headwinds and Tailwinds. “We tend to pay more attention to headwinds than tailwinds because they are harder to overcome, and we tend to believe that our own life has been full of ‘barriers and challenges more severe than those experienced by others.’ This belief, in turn, causes envy” (Researchers Shai Davidai and Thomas Gilovich). Tailwinds represent all the supportive forces and actors that sustained us through the headwinds and have even at times helped us prevail despite their limiting influence in our lives.  When have you found yourself consumed or overwhelmed by headwinds? In retrospect, what tailwinds were also present?

What practices have helped you cultivate a more gratitude-rich life? What keeps you from tending your garden which is capable of producing all of the fruit of the Spirit?

“How do you experience gratitude when feelings are elusive? Gratitude is... more than just an emotion. It is also a disposition that can be chosen and cultivated, an outlook toward life that manifests itself in action – it is an ethic... a framework of principles by which we live more fully in the world. This ethic involves developing habits and practices of gratefulness that change us for the better. Gratitude involves not only what we feel, but also what we do...  When you look for things to be grateful for, you find them; and once you start looking, you discover that gratitude begets more gratitude. Like all habits, gratitude builds on itself.” (Diana Butler Bass, Grateful, 61, 67).

Feelin' the Feels

Welcome to November, when we devote an entire month to thanksgiving-filled gluttony!  In a national study conducted  seven years ago on the subject of gratitude, 78% of Americans reported that they felt strongly grateful in the last week.  This was at a time of deep division in our country, leading some to wonder if what was being witnessed was evidence of social desirability bias, where people report what they would like to think about themselves more than what they are actually feeling.  This should come as no surprise given the increased popularity of the subject of gratitude in the last several years. Gratitude is promoted and popular, promising some very positive benefits, including “increased self-esteem, enhanced willpower, stronger relationships, deeper spirituality, boosted creativity, improved athletic and academic performance, and ‘having a unique ability to heal, energize, and change lives’ (Robert Emmons, The Little Book of Gratitude: Create a Life of Happiness and Wellbeing by Giving Thanks, 21). According to researcher Philip Watkins, “the link between gratitude and the heart is so pronounced, one research team identified gratefulness as a “strength of the heart” (Gratitude and the Good Life: Toward a Psychology of Appreciation, 77-78). So, get your gratitude journals out and get to work!  Guaranteed health and wealth await!

     Is gratitude just another quid pro quo scheme in our consumer culture to get something we want?  Is gratitude worth it?

     In thinking about gratitude, I am reminded of a story from Jesus’ life (Luke 7:36-50 NLT) where gratitude was expressed in a lavish yet unwelcome way (for some):

One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to have dinner with him, so Jesus went to his home and sat down to eat. When a certain immoral woman from that city heard he was eating there, she brought a beautiful alabaster jar filled with expensive perfume. Then she knelt behind him at his feet, weeping. Her tears fell on his feet, and she wiped them off with her hair. Then she kept kissing his feet and putting perfume on them.

     When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know what kind of woman is touching him. She’s a sinner!”

     Then Jesus answered his thoughts. “Simon,” he said to the Pharisee, “I have something to say to you.”

     “Go ahead, Teacher,” Simon replied.

     Then Jesus told him this story: “A man loaned money to two people—500 pieces of silver to one and 50 pieces to the other. But neither of them could repay him, so he kindly forgave them both, canceling their debts. Who do you suppose loved him more after that?”

     Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the larger debt.”

     “That’s right,” Jesus said. Then he turned to the woman and said to Simon, “Look at this woman kneeling here. When I entered your home, you didn’t offer me water to wash the dust from my feet, but she has washed them with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You didn’t greet me with a kiss, but from the time I first came in, she has not stopped kissing my feet. You neglected the courtesy of olive oil to anoint my head, but she has anointed my feet with rare perfume.

     “I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.” Then Jesus said to the woman, “Your sins are forgiven.”

     The men at the table said among themselves, “Who is this man, that he goes around forgiving sins?”

     And Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

     The woman was overwhelmed with gratitude while the Pharisee – a deeply religious leader – was put out.  What was his deal?  We are left to our imagination in our attempt to read the mind of the dinner host.  Perhaps he simply didn’t want a woman of ill repute in his home, or he was disgusted with her, etc.  Yet what should have been a moment for collective rejoicing left him with little or no gratefulness.  Elie Wiesel noted that “when a person doesn’t have gratitude, something is missing in his or her humanity. A person can almost be defined by his or her attitude toward gratitude” (from an interview with Oprah Winfrey for O Magazine). Something was missing for the dinner host, indeed. 

     Have you ever struggled to be grateful?  If your answer is no, then we can confirm yet again the social desirability bias is alive and well.  Sometimes people struggle with gratitude because of some horrible thing that happened to them – not a choice of their own.  Some made choices they regret and cannot get over it.  Some just don’t feel comfortable with the whole gratitude concept. The problem has been around a very long time.  In antiquity there existed a culturally understood and upheld reciprocity paradigm of benefactors, benefits, and beneficiaries.  Benefactors were expected to provide benefits for those in need – the beneficiaries – who were then expected to show gratitude in the form of allegiance, a favor, a gift, etc.  To receive something requiring a thank you, for some, becomes a burden.

     For others, to receive a gift is a slap in the face.  As Ralph Waldo Emerson quipped, “It is not the office of a man to receive gifts. How dare you give them? We wish to be self-sustained. We do not quite forgive a giver” (“Gifts,” Essays: Second Series (1844). There have been instances where I have given someone a gift that I was excited to give.  My excitement was not mirrored, however.  In one instance, the receiver’s reaction was completely flat.  No expression of delight whatsoever.  It was unsettling for me, as I grew up being taught to express thanks for gifts great and small.  I wonder if my gift made the person feel in some way emasculated or inferior, or, upon receipt, required to in some way “pay me back” as if I was The Godfather or something.  Upon further reflection, there have been times when I have been given things with a not-so-subtle inuendo that the gift was going to cost me in some way.  To not accept the gift would be rude. To accept the gift was to be bought and bound.

     The woman who snuck her way into the dinner wasn’t burdened with such things.  She was clearly overwhelmed with gratitude and could not contain it.  Given that Jesus was teaching and ministering around the region, we can only assume that she had been the recipient of something Jesus offered in his words, actions, or both.  Knowing that Jesus was focused primarily on ushering in the Kingdom of God – an expression of the Jewish idea of Shalom – we can surmise that she would have at least heard the transformative message: God is love and love us all unconditionally.  Jesus taught and embodied grace – unmerited favor – and the woman deeply received the message.  Like so many then up and through this very day, that Good News transformed her.  She obviously had reason to question God’s love for her given her infamous renown.  Something greater had been offered that was more powerful than shame and guilt: love.

     This general message was an untargeted gift received.  Diana Butler Bass, in her book, Grateful (which informs this series), noted: “We are all un-targets of gifts that surprise and sustain us. Un-targeted gratitude takes us out of the cycle of obligation into the larger circle of shared gifts, beyond reciprocal exchange toward mutual enjoyment and responsibility for those gifts. Opening our hearts to the constant flow of receiving and responding that happens all around us all the time makes us more generous” (43). Indeed, the unwelcome dinner crasher’s gratitude overflowed with a generous expression as she poured her oil and tears on Jesus’ feet!  Such embodied joy was born from her belief that the foundation of her life was God in a beautifully dependent way.  As Bass notes, “More than two centuries ago, German theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher referred to this experience as the ‘feeling of absolute dependence.’ To him, absolute dependence was not demeaning. It was more like what we describe today as interdependence. He recognized that gratitude was the truest state of reality – everything exists in an infinite relationship of gifts to everything else – and it was also the starting place for a life of meaning, as our own awareness opens toward others, the world, and, ultimately, God” (Grateful, 38). Not quite a unitive experience or Satori moment, but pretty darn close – can you appreciate the power of such an awareness experienced by the woman with welled-up eyes, to make this bold expression in the house of one who likely reminded her often of her guilt and shame?

     The woman was elated in that moment.  But I bet she had some bad days after that night.  People being cruel to her, reminding her of her past – of what likely led to her life of “ill repute”, which also reminded her of situations where, even in such circumstances, she was treated inhumanely.  I wonder if she had days where she struggled to be grateful?  I bet she did.  Diana Butler Bass was the victim of sexual abuse by her uncle at the age of fourteen.  Such trauma definitely got in the way of gratitude.  She certainly wasn’t grateful for such horror. Not all circumstances elicit thanksgiving – and they shouldn’t. “No one should ever feel grateful for sin, evil, or violence. No one should ever express gratitude for the bad choices of others – those bad choices are never gifts” (Grateful, 54). While we need not be grateful for such painful experiences, we do have an invitation to deal with the pain that serves to provide greater freedom from it, maybe even some measure of peace.  Henri Nouwen noted (“The Spiritual Work of Gratitude,” Henri Nouwen Society, January 12, 2017):

“To be grateful for the good things that happen in our lives is easy, but to be grateful for all of our lives – the good as well as the bad, the moments of joy as well as the moments of sorrow, the successes as well as the failures, the rewards as well as the rejections – that requires hard spiritual work. Still, we are only grateful people when we can say thank you to all that has brought us to the present moment. As long as we keep dividing our lives between events and people we would like to remember and those we would rather forget, we cannot claim the fullness of our beings as a gift of God to be grateful for.” 

     While Nouwen’s insights are lovely, they are also difficult to embrace.  If it does not come easily or ever for you, it’s okay.  You’re okay.  You are no less loved.  You are understood. Valued. Eternally held.  The Spirit of God is not a jerk.  While there will always be a nudge toward shalom – even if only micro-steps – such wooing will never force you to go there.  Be encouraged, if you can, by Bass’s story.  After decades of struggle, something finally shifted for her.  She in no way dismissed the horrific behavior of her uncle, but she did soften, recognizing his humanity, his brokenness, his unknown history that led to his behavior. The only word she could come up with to describe what she was feeling?  Grace. She was able to be truly grateful for her life, for simply being alive despite her painful past, leading her to be able to write (Grateful, 55):

“Gratitude, at its deepest and perhaps most transformative level, is not warm feelings about what we have. Instead, gratitude is the deep ability to embrace the gift of who we are, that we are, that in the multibillion-year history of the universe each one of us has been born, can love, grow in awareness, and has a story. Life is a gift. When that mystery fills our hearts, it overwhelms us, and a deep river of emotions flows forth – feelings we barely knew we were capable of holding.”

     Elie Wiesel, who witnessed unimaginable suffering during the Holocaust, after being asked if having seen the worst of humanity made him more or less grateful replied: “For me, every hour is grace. And I feel gratitude in my heart each time I can meet someone and look at his or her smile” (from an interview with Oprah Winfrey for O Magazine). May you come to realize the Good News proclaimed by Jesus is a gift for everyone, which means it is a gift for you.  May the love of God bring healing and hope to your soul.  May the love of God lighten your load.  May the love of God find you rejoicing in perhaps ridiculous ways, blessing others and encouraging them to wonder what such Good News might mean for them, too.

Process Questions.

How was gratitude taught and/or modeled for you growing up?

When have you struggled to be grateful?  Why?

When have you experienced deep gratitude?  How did it affect you?

What’s your reaction to Nouwen’s quote below?

“To be grateful for the good things that happen in our lives is easy, but to be grateful for all of our lives – the good as well as the bad, the moments of joy as well as the moments of sorrow, the successes as well as the failures, the rewards as well as the rejections – that requires hard spiritual work. Still, we are only grateful people when we can say thank you to all that has brought us to the present moment. As long as we keep dividing our lives between events and people we would like to remember and those we would rather forget, we cannot claim the fullness of our beings as a gift of God to be grateful for”  (“The Spiritual Work of Gratitude,” Henri Nouwen Society, January 12, 2017).

What’s your reaction to Bass’ and Wiesel’s quotes below?

“Gratitude, at its deepest and perhaps most transformative level, is not warm feelings about what we have. Instead, gratitude is the deep ability to embrace the gift of who we are, that we are, that in the multibillion-year history of the universe each one of us has been born, can love, grow in awareness, and has a story. Life is a gift. When that mystery fills our hearts, it overwhelms us, and a deep river of emotions flows forth – feelings we barely knew we were capable of holding” (Grateful, 55)

“For me, every hour is grace. And I feel gratitude in my heart each time I can meet someone and look at his or her smile” (from an interview with Elie Wiesel by Oprah Winfrey for O Magazine).

What might you do to increase gratitude in your life?

The Problem of Evil

Extra: Watch Darnell Ishmael bring the house down along with accompanies Andrew.

As a pastor, I am exposed to the rhetoric of evil more than most.  From addressing horrors from the pulpit, to caring for individuals and families who have suffered personally from some expression of what they would label evil, to mourners at the graveside of loved ones lost, I’ve seen and heard people in their lament.  Culturally, we have shared language which suggests widely held beliefs about the nature of reality related to evil.  There is no shortage of theological jargon being expressed when people experience or witness what they deem evil. Based on our common language, God shares a significant level of responsibility for our suffering.  Do people come right out and blame God for the tragedy they are enduring?  Sometimes.  Most of the time it is more subtle than that.  “This was all part of God’s plan.” “It was their appointed time to die.” “God allowed this for some greater purpose.” “God allowed this to teach us something.” And even if someone directly blames some form of Satan for the evil – although this is rare in the ecclesiastical space I usually inhabit – the implication remains that God either could not do anything to stop it (which hardly anybody will say out loud) or that God allowed it for some greater purpose.

     Of course, there are some biblical references that support our vernacular.  The Garden of Eden temptation scene in Genesis 3 is viewed by many Christians as the moment when sin entered the world – the result of Adam and Eve caving to the temptation of the snake in the grass Satan figure. Innocence was lost, death entered because of the devil’s scheming.  In addition, Job’s story supports such conclusions – the most faithful guy in the world was tortured to within an inch of his life by the Satan figure.  In both stories, the antagonist was allowed by God to wreak havoc, even mildly encouraged in the case of Job so long as his life wasn’t taken (but his children were fair game). 

     While the personification of evil in the Satan figure isn’t very pronounced in what most in the Christian tradition calls the Old(er) Testament, the New(er) Testament certainly makes up for it.  Following his baptism, Jesus was tempted by Satan during his 40 days in the wilderness, setting up more showdowns to come and resulting in his own death. The Apostle Paul wrote that our battle is not against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places (Ephesians 6:12). The apocalyptic Book of Revelation offers plenty of fodder as well, describing the work of Satan and his minions, culminating in his final destruction.  In the end, at just the right time, God brought (or will bring) home the final victory. While most folks are fuzzy on the details, they’re familiar with the ending, which leaves them with the conclusion that God is, for reasons not fully known to mere mortals, allowing Satan and evil to run rampant until some foreordained time.

     For many Christian believers since the end of the first century C.E, the synthesis of the above overview provides a cosmological framework that works for them on significant levels.  Believers know who to pray to, who to pray (and fight) against, and though there is much that will never be fully understood, the faithful are called to trust God with the mystery.  To be clear, I do not minimize the power of such a cosmology or faith.  At an earlier age I benefited from such a framework.  My fervent prayers drew me closer to God and I was serious about living my faith in real life, including my role as a pastor.  Even though I have never given the subject of Satan much attention in my teaching doesn’t mean that the first century paradigm wasn’t informing my thought.  I would imagine that for most Christian churchgoers today, the paradigm still offers structure to make sense of the world and even offers hope for the future.  If you are reading this and are content, you may want to stop.  But if you or someone you know is still struggling with the problem of evil, you are not alone.

Modern Problems with the Dominant View.  The above biblical overview is incredibly brief, incomplete, and without any critical commentary.  Volumes have been written over the centuries wrestling with the texts and their implications.  Volumes that everyday people will not likely ever study. For churchgoing Christians there may be sermons and songs and studies that help people craft more nuanced understandings of evil. But what about the 70% of people who claim to believe in God (90% of the United States’ population) but don’t attend religious services?   What are they left with?  Not much.  Sound bites.  Bumper sticker theology. Catch phrases heard and reiterated at funerals and vigils.  An unprecedented number of people are leaving not just faith communities, but faith itself due, in large part, to the problem of evil.  If what they have gleaned from catch-phrase Christianity reflects God, they can’t believe in God any longer.  If the first century paradigm of an all-powerful God waiting for the appointed time to eradicate evil and suffering is the best the faith tradition can offer, should anybody wonder why such an exodus continues?  If God is the Heavenly Father – the Parent of the Year every year – why would God not do something immediately to prevent the suffering of God’s innocent children?  Is the future date, the plot of human history, so precious that billions must settle for resting in peace only after death?  The problem of evil (among other things like the ongoing apparent battle between faith and science) seems to be an insurmountable obstacle to maintaining faith.

     Yet there is good news.  The dominant, culturally understood rendering of Christianity is not the only expression of the faith available to consider and embrace. We live at a time of unprecedented capacity to learn and share ideas and insights that have led to new – and in some ways ancient – constructs of faith that allow room for modern worldviews and a meaningful, powerful God to coexist. Open and Relational Theology (ORT) offers a response to the most difficult challenges to faith.  Theologian Tom Oord, in his book God Can’t, claims that Open and Relational Theology even solves the problem of evil.

Theological Alternatives.  The way we think about God matters.  Our thoughts about God make their way onto our lips and then our prayers. Some popular thoughts about God don’t square well with our life experience or our contemporary view of the cosmos.  The ancient world view envisioned God as residing in the heavens – “up above” where professional athletes point after a home run, touchdown, or no-hitter.  The Big Guy upstairs, in this framework, breaks into our reality from time to time to save the day or help win the game.  This becomes a point of confusion for many believers today. Many believe that God is very present, yet prayers are directed to a God “out there” somewhere.  We simultaneously believe that God is with us and yet we ask for God to break in and grant our miracles.  Open and Relational Theology offers a panentheistic view of God, where everything is in God.  There is no “above” to point to depicting God’s space.  God is everywhere, present to and in everything. This is not to be confused with pantheism, which claims that everything is God or God is everything.  Panentheism changes our language which alters our prayers – we no longer ask for God to break into reality because God is already present.

     A related linguistic issue that involves much more than semantics has to do with God’s primary identity.  While many Christians would say that God is loving, the prayers often articulated depict power as God’s primary character trait.  The idea that God is omnipotent – that God has all the power to do anything God might want to do – is pervasive.  Tom Oord, in his book, The Death of Omnipotence and the Birth of Amipotence, makes the claim that such command of total power as we use the term omnipotence in Western contemporary culture is not supported biblically.  Further, Oord claims that while we may want to believe that God is all powerful and all-loving, we cannot have it both ways.  Any healthy parent, full of love for their child, would move heaven and earth to protect their child from harm.  If God has all the power to do anything and yet allows children to suffer, then God cannot be truly all-loving.  Even our mere mortal minds can make that conclusion.  Oord, in several books, claims that God’s primary character trait is love, which he terms “amipotence” to describe the most potent expression of the trait.  The ramifications of love being God’s primary character trait are far reaching as it changes how we view the future as well as our relational dynamic with God as we move forward through time.

     The Open aspect of ORT refers to God being present in real time with all of creation as it continually unfolds.  God is not already ahead of us in the distant future with full knowledge of everything we will ever think, say, or do.  The future is not written but is truly unknowable and continually unfolding. If we truly have free will, then God cannot know with certainty what we will do next in our lives. Everything that can be known is known to God, so God’s bets are usually pretty good regarding what we are likely to do next with our lives. Yet because we are truly free, the future is unknown and unknowable. By the way, this does not mean that there is no hope. The presence of God is everlasting – even beyond the shelf-life of our bodies.  Hope beyond the grave remains because Life is more than flesh and blood, we have cells and souls.

     The Relational aspect of ORT refers to God’s responsive dynamic with all of creation. God is in real relationship with everyone and everything, even being affected by creation along the way.  We impact God.  God is affected by us.  God evolves along with us. Because God’s primary characteristic is love – and not power – God does not force God’s will on us.  God does not overpower us.  God is powerful, but not controlling.  God is the most powerful being in all of creation as it continues to expand, yet the most God can do is lure us, woo us, invite us to follow the Way that leads to life. That’s a real relationship. We are not pawns.  We are players with moves to make. Our choices. A future we create in part with our decisions, in tandem with every decision everyone else makes as well.  We do not live in isolation – our decisions affect more than our own lives just like the decisions of others affects our lives. God is intimately involved in relationship all along the way, nudging, wooing, luring, inviting us toward the fullest and deepest expression of love.  The Jewish tradition calls this Shalom.  Jesus called it the Kingdom of God that he worked to usher into the world with his life and teaching.

     To summarize, four claims from Open and Relational theology include the idea that God is not separate but in everything and everything is in God, that God is not omnipotent the way we have thought but is truly all loving (amipotent), that God’s uncontrolling love means that the future is unknowably open and our relationship is truly that – relational – whereby we are affected by God to varying degrees and we affect God as well. Taken together, how does this address the problem of evil?

     First, understanding God’s primary trait as being love and not power, the idea that God allows evil to happen is removed.  To allow implies the power to control.  God does not control because God is loving. When faced with tragedy stemming from expressions of evil, we should remove language from our lips that blames God because God is not in control and does not have the power to override characters in creation (which includes you and me).  Evil is not “allowed” as if it were God’s choice.  Evil is not God’s will.

     Second, given God’s primary trait being uncontrolling love, we respect that the future is open and unknowable, which means we can erase the idea from our minds and lips that our death date and time is not predetermined, even if the truly lovely poem of Psalm 139 states otherwise.

     Third, given that God is relational, wooing free agents like ourselves toward shalom at every turn, we recognize that we may not always say yes to the loving invitation.  We choose against shalom. Sometimes quite defiantly.  More often, we unconsciously choose what is familiar, which means if shalom’s expression is foreign, we may not naturally choose it despite God’s pleading.

     Taken together, this means that evil in the world is not caused or allowed by God – or a Satan figure, either – but by decisions against shalom individually and collectively.

     When I was a little kid – maybe five years old – my older brother, Mark, caught me stealing some of his Halloween candy.  I wasn’t totally cruel – I left him a full third of his score from our Trick or Treating – and may have even let him have a few of the precious snack-sized chocolate bars that were always most-cherished.  What was going on in me? When I was caught, I didn’t think to blame God (and neither did Mark).  My parents wouldn’t have been convinced if I played the mystery card, either.  This was not God’s will.  This was Peter’s will over-riding the woo of shalom, driven by greed, lust for candy, and a host of other variables I could not appreciate then or even now.  My malevolent act was self-centered for sure, yet impacted others.  It didn’t do much for my relationship with Mark for that day.  It didn’t make his day or my parents’.  It also didn’t serve me well.  Halloween candy is one safe example.  Replace it with much more consequential, painful subjects.  Our decisions for or against shalom matter, not just for us but for everyone we affect and everyone they affect.

     Extrapolate this reality and apply it to entire cultures and we get an explanation for the evils of slavery, racism, sexism, classism – and every other ism – without the need to blame God.  In fact, it would be inappropriate to do so because such egregious disturbances of shalom never came from the heart of God in the first place – we made our own beds despite God’s pleading.

     There is hope.  Panentheism means that God never leaves us.  God can’t leave us. And since God’s character is fully loving, we can be sure that God will continue to woo us toward shalom at every moment, no matter how many times we’ve refused to accept the invitation.  God can’t stop inviting us toward shalom.  The question beyond that of the origin of evil is one that we face daily with massive implications: how will we as individuals and as a collective respond to God’s invitation toward shalom with our hearts, minds, hands, and feet going forward?

Entangled Prayer Week Seven: New Every Morning

Synopsis. The heavens declare the goodness of God. Creation itself – from the smallest organisms to the expanding universe – are generative, life-supporting, and beautiful.  Such a trajectory means that the guiding energy or force behind it is supportive, creative, faithful, reliable, consistent, generous, caring, and many other words that, taken together, simply boil down to one word: love.  The Bible says that God is loving, so much so that it goes further to say that God is love.  For those struggling to believe in a greater being, perhaps you can settle with the reverse of God is love: love is God.  In light of the beautiful creation in which we live and the love of God that is energizing, guiding, and inhabiting it all, how are we to respond to such good news?  Perhaps we should entrust our allegiance and our passion to following in the footsteps of Jesus who invited us to consider that such a giving of ourselves to what he was teaching would in fact save our lives.  And perhaps not just our lives, but the lives of many others and the planet we call home.

I have fantastic news!  As it clearly states in Hezekiah 6:14, “The world does not suck!”  Look it up!  Unfortunately, our “if it bleeds, it leads” consumer-influenced 24-hour news would have us believe otherwise.  Yes, there is bad news to be sure: the war in Israel and Ukraine (and other battles we hear little about), preventable diseases still killing people, climate change, oppression in many forms, dictators, etc.  It can be overwhelming when such news becomes our primary focus.  And yet the non-sucky Good News dwarfs the suckfest by comparison.  Every single day, plants thrive, people thrive, animals thrive, ecosystems thrive.  Love happens far more than rage and hatred.  While the circle of life is certainly a thing – Alfred North Whitehead referred to it as perpetual perishing – this also means there is perpetual regeneration as one moment ceases to exist leading to a new moment at every turn.  Isn’t it amazing that creation doesn’t simply die?  Isn’t it incredible that there is so much beauty in the world, so much life, so much that is incredible?  Have you ever wondered why? If the undercurrent of all that exists was indifferent, or purely utilitarian, regenerative creation that is also beautiful wouldn’t make sense.

     Perhaps this is why the Psalmist declared “God's glory is on tour in the skies,

God-craft on exhibit across the horizon” (Psalm 19:1-2 MSG).  Perhaps the revelation of creation is what led Yoga teacher and spiritual leader Sadhguru to put into prose:

"Every moment there are a million miracles happening around you: 
a flower blossoming, a bird tweeting, 
a bee humming, a raindrop falling, 
a snowflake wafting along 
the clear evening air. 
There is magic everywhere. 
If you learn how to live it, 
life is nothing short of a daily miracle."

–  Inner Engineering: A Yogi's Guide to Joy​​

     Bruce Epperly noted that “God is never fully understandable, but we can stand in awe of divinity, amazed at God’s constant and ubiquitous creativity and love for us and all creation. This awe, wonder, and mystery is the beginning of wisdom and the inspiration of ethics. Reverence and wonder lead to appreciation and affirmation, and to honoring of life in its manifold forms.” (Praying with Process Theology, 122-123) It is the role of religion to help us bring the picture together.  As Alfred North Whitehead noted, “Religion is the vision of something which stands beyond, behind, and within the passing flux of immediate things; something which is real, and yet waiting to be realized; something which is a remote possibility, and yet the greatest of present facts; something that gives meaning to all that passes, and yet eludes apprehension; something whose possession is the final good and yet is beyond all reach; something which is the ultimate ideal, and the hopeless quest.” (Science and the Modern World, 191-192).  This is what captivated Jesus and why he taught, lived, and modeled what he did.  He was overwhelmed by an experience and vision of God as absolutely loving, like a devoted Daddy/Abba.  Seeing and experiencing such love corrected his vision regarding how he viewed all people as well as how he read and interpreted sacred scriptures.  The natural response to love is love, with love’s goal being to help everyone and all things grow in love.  The wholeness conveyed is the very essence of the Jewish understanding of salvation – a much more robust vision than simply the forgiveness of sins.  As Bruce Epperly explains, “Process theology sees salvation, or wholeness, as a universal, moment-by-moment, lifelong, and everlasting process... Process theology sees salvation as involving the totality of our lives, political, economic, ethnic, sexual, family of origin, and planetary. God’s quest invites us to become saved persons in ‘safe communities and a healthy planet.’” (Praying with Process Theology, 129).

     Jesus also recognized that living in and by love was countercultural in his day.  It still is.  Yet he beckons still: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?” (Matthew 16:24-26 NRSV) Instead of threatening us, such words should ring out as a great invitation to something bigger than ourselves, and not just for ourselves.  Epperly notes that “The cost of discipleship can be personal, spiritual, and intellectual insecurity.” (Praying with Process Theology, 124) Choosing to follow in the counter-cultural footsteps of Jesus can feel quite lonely in a culture that elevates individual wellbeing and comfort above all else.  Loves calls us forward anyway, as our source, goal, and hope. Yet, in good rabbinical fashion, Rabbi Hillel asks, If I am not for myself, who will be? If I’m only for myself, what am I? If not now, when? 

     The Good News of Love compels and woos us to be agents of wholeness, bringing everything together toward wellbeing.  Theoretical Physicist David Bohm reminds us that “As human beings and societies we seem separate, but in our roots we are part of an indivisible whole and share in the same cosmic process.”  Bohm believes that we are truly all connected, that we are part of the whole and the whole is part of us.  He believes that we are called to bring about greater wholeness through more conscious living.  This is pretty religious talk from one of the earliest quantum physicists!  Yet it fits with theologian and philosopher Teilhard de Chardin who recognized that “God and the world form a complementary whole.”  When we act in love, we are acting in congruence with the whole, helping the whole become more whole.

     But we don’t always say yes to love’s invitation. When we choose ways other than love, we create problems for ourselves.  Etty Hillesum, a Jewish woman who was murdered at Auschwitz, knew well that “each of us moves things along in the direction of war every time we fail in love.”  Instead of failing in love, perhaps we should rather focus on falling in love.  Pedro Arrupe invites us to consider that “what you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.”  Teilhard de Chardin agreed: “Love alone is capable of uniting living beings in such a way as to complete and fulfill them, for it alone takes them and joins them by what is deepest in themselves.  Love alone can bring us to the threshold of another universe.”

     I think the reason we are still captivated by Jesus despite the Church’s innumerable deterring failures is the love that he embodied.  Such love that calls us to look after each other is breathtaking and inspiring at a core level for every person with a heart (and it’s nonsense for those who have lost their heart!).  Jesus ensured his followers that following him would lead to an abundant life – not riches, but abundance.  As if love begets love.  I think he was right.

     Each day affords a new opportunity to sow more seeds of love (cue Tears for Fears).  Every day is new, and God greets the dawn with us.  Hundreds of years ago Meister Eckhart recognized that “God is the newest thing there is, the youngest thing, and when we are united with God we become new again.” Embracing each day’s beauty is not denial but defiance.  We choose to trust that love prevails and is with us wherever we go, whatever we’re going through, even if we blow it.  Love holds us and forever calls us forward. What a beautiful way to enter each day.  What hope!  When we choose to swim in reality, we can join Michael Buble and say, I’m Feeling Good.

A closing prayer:

Adventurous Spirit, give us adventurous spirits. The world awaits those who risk safety to bring justice and healing to the world. The world is desperate for Godward souls who are willing to lose their well-planned and predictable lives to embark on the high hope of adventure. Life and love abound for those who venture toward God’s horizons of hope. Let us follow God’s adventure, let us embrace God’s healing vision, and let us let go of certainty to bring life and light to the world... Holy One, give us hope. Holy Adventure, give us a glimpse of another world. Holy Life-giver, awaken us to a new vocation as Earth Healers. Confident that we can change, let us risk taking new directions, sacrificing destructive ways of life for our great-grandchildren’s futures. Let our wealth be relational and spiritual. Let our treasure be the beauty of holiness and the transformations of the spirit. Grant us peace that passes understanding and faith that moves mountains and changes weather patterns. Amen. – Bruce Epperly, Praying with Process Theology, 125, 133

Entangled Prayer Week Six: Healing the World

This teaching features the perspective of three Process theologians: Marjorie Suchocki, Bruce Epperly, and Monica Coleman. Suchocki begins with an overview of prayer from a Process lens, followed by related thoughts from Epperly and Coleman. The latter two address the question of praying for healing, specifically. If the video is not below, you can find it on CrossWalk’s YouTube channel.

Entangled Prayer Week 5: World-Transforming Prayer

Synopsis. The deconstruction and reconstruction process of faith – which we should expect to be an ongoing experience throughout our lives – can be extremely challenging at times.  We may certainly wonder if God is even real.  Such massive questions impact our confidence and interest in prayer. Sometimes we give up. Jesus instructs us to keep on praying, though, trusting in its efficacy. Could it be that when we least feel like praying is when we most need to pray?

Paul Kix wrote about his experience and that of UCC pastor Hunt Priest (Paul Kix, “God, Magic Mushrooms & Me,” Esquire, October/November 2023). Both had – in different seasons and times – felt like their faith was evaporating or was maybe even gone.  Both found it difficult to pray.  Hunt Priest entered ministry as a second career and over time found himself wondering where the awe that he once felt had gone, as well as his passion for ministry?  Have you ever felt that way?  Paul Kix felt like the routinized liturgy of the church he attended was dead – he mainly went to church to be part of a community who was trying to actively make the world a better place. But his belief in God was pretty shaky – did he even believe in God?

     Process Question: How do you resonate with the experiences of Paul Kix and/or Hunt Priest?

     These two guys are in good company. Mother Theresa had serious doubts during her journey of faith.  Mother Flipping Theresa!  Jesus cried out while he hung dying on the cross, quoting Psalm 22: “Why, God, have you forsaken me?!”  Elijah ran for 40 days and nights out of fear for his life after he was part of God’s saving act.  Peter in one scene confessed that Jesus was anointed by the Spirit of God and in the next challenged Jesus’ Spirit-inspired vision, followed later with a statement of his undying love followed by his fear-driven denying even knowing him.  Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel and Leah, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, Gideon, Thomas, Paul – and every other major biblical character and every major player in the development of the Christian faith (and I suspect every enduring faith tradition) struggled at times in their faith. I would imagine that most every human being has struggled similarly.

     If you are struggling in your faith and considering chucking the whole thing, I feel you.  So does everyone else.  Yet I encourage you to consider that this is simply the normal human experience of faith.  Yet these witnesses from our faith tradition will collectively tell you that there is more beyond the doubting and struggling.

     Naturally, when we’re in the darker hours of the struggle, we are sometimes least likely to pray to the God we’re not sure we believe in anymore.  For many of us, part of the problem is that we have been oriented by a faith that values a vision of God that requires certainty, absolutes, and discourages doubt as the opposite of faith.  Don’t question. Don’t doubt. Just believe in what you’ve been told even if it stops working or making sense.  Perhaps that’s why even though 90% of Americans believe in God, only 30% attend church regularly.

     Open and Relational theology offers a different approach to faith.  It welcomes questions and doubt because it sees ALL of life as an unfolding process.  Faith isn’t about finding the absolute truth and believing unwaveringly. Rather, faith is a relationship with God that evolves and changes with time as new discoveries and insights come to light, where God constantly woos but never forces or controls us toward love’s best options.  Our understanding of God matters since it impacts all the movements associated with faith.  As John Cobb notes, “How we think about God affects how we pray... and what we expect our prayers to accomplish. If we pray to a kind of sky god, we are trying to influence some distant and maybe absent being to pay attention to us and act on our behalf. If, instead, we think of God as already here, God isn’t above or outside watching what’s going on but inside taking part. We don’t pray then to get God’s attention, but to align ourselves with a presence that is already there. We reach out to and through others to a presence that is already working. We aren’t pleading with God to do something God would otherwise be reluctant to do.” (Praying with Jennifer, 65-66)

     Process Question: As you have moved through life and your faith has shifted, how has your prayer life been affected?

     I am reminded of the honest words of Paul who wrote toward the end of his oft-quoted love chapter, “When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.” (1 Corinthians 13:11-12, NLT) Paul was communicating something entirely obvious that he lived out in his own life – faith is a relationship with God in process.  Paul’s Damascus Road experience helped him see how blind he was.  Thankfully it stuck.  His satori moment wasn’t a one-and-done experience – his thinking continued to expand, resulting in an incredibly inclusive understanding of God that would have put him on the “hit list” he once carried. Faith is a process, not a point-in-time doctrinal statement.

     As Jesus processed his faith, he incorporated prayer into his life rhythm and encouraged his followers to follow suit.  In his famous stump speech, he instructed the following regarding prayer:

     “Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.

     “You parents—if your children ask for a loaf of bread, do you give them a stone instead? Or if they ask for a fish, do you give them a snake? Of course not! So, if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.” (Matthew 7:7-11, NLT)

     Bruce Epperly reflects on the impact of following Jesus’ advice: “Prayer changes things. First, it changes those who pray, giving them a wider perspective and transforming enemies into God’s beloved children. Second, prayer changes challenging situations. Prayer can be a tipping point between life and death, health and illness, and success and failure. As many preachers have affirmed, ‘When I pray, coincidences happen. When I don’t, they don’t.’” (Praying with Process Theology, 86) In my experience, I have at times been reluctant to pray because I wondered if it made any difference at all.  At the very least, when I have refrained from praying, I know that I was not personally affected by the caring, compassionate act of praying for another, and neither did those for whom I cared for but did not pray for. Note: no need to pile on guilt or shame here – that’s not helpful – yet I hope you’ll consider how not praying is a loser solution when faced with doubt.

     Process Question: Have you ever had a season when you struggled to pray?  Why? How did not praying affect your faith?

     Process Theologian Marjorie Suchocki offers insight into the impact of prayer that I find compelling. “Prayer changes the way the world is, and therefore changes what the world can be. Prayer opens the world to its own transformation... Prayers for healing make a difference in what kind of resources God can use as God faithfully touches us with impulses toward our good, given our condition. Those prayers can make the difference between reversing a not-yet-reversible illness or not; therefore, God bids us to pray. But God only knows the point of that irreversibility, and in some diseases, it is with the very onset... But what if irreversibility is the case, what then? Shall we stop our prayers for healing? Of course not, for healing comes in many forms, and there is a health that is deeper than death.” (In God’s Presence, 19, 58, 60).

     Process Question: What do you think of Suchocki’s vision here?

     Sometimes we struggle to pray because we continually face the question of unanswered prayer.  Even if we can intellectually understand that prayers don’t get answered the way we deeply hoped, the experience can stop us in our tracks.  Why ask, seek, and knock if it doesn’t seem like we’re being given what we ask for, finding what we’re seeking, and the door remains shut in our faces?  Process theology helps a lot here, appreciating the fact that God is not controlling and therefore will not break in from the outside to save the day like Superman. Open and Relational theology affirms that God is constantly at work in the world for the wellbeing of all people and creation itself, wooing “souls and cells” – as Epperly quips – toward the best options.  It’s the gamble of freedom – free actors may not choose among the better options.  Free actors may instead be wooed by their egos, greed, lust, fear, anger, etc.  Who hasn’t made poor choices a time or two or a million? It is reality. 

     When people are facing serious illness and are facing death sooner than later, this can be especially hard.  We need to be reminded that our respective bodies are not meant to live forever.  The good news is that there is healing, wellbeing beyond the physical. Martha Rowlett reminds us that “how God answers our prayers is beyond our thoughts, and God’s ways are not our ways. But we can trust that our prayers give God more to work with in influencing the world for the good.” (Weaving Prayer in the Tapestry of Life, 121) Let’s keep praying! Stay open to the reality that God is still working toward the good, working toward shalom, which sometimes manifests in physical results, and often offers a deeper current of healing that may matter more. 

     I have experienced painful loss in my life in several areas that I have at times tried to pray away. The losses came anyway. There is a grieving process that we go through – willingly or unwillingly, consciously or unconsciously, slower or faster. When the dust settles, I have discovered that even though I may have felt like I’ve gone through personal earthquakes, the Ground of Being remains. There is strength and peace sustaining me, a reminder that I am not alone, that there is something in me and everywhere that is eternal. That “thisness” is marked by all the qualities of Paul’s fruit of the Spirit, and in a word, is Love.  At the end of the day, this matters most to me. It is not a placebo that fosters the denial of the difficult aspects of life or the avoidance of dealing with its messiness, but rather a foundation that brings me peace, calling me forward with a knowing that there is a Greater Other who beckons us near and calls us home. It helps me get through, well, everything.  This week as I was being still, a memory of a song from an artist who died 26 years ago came to mind.  Rich Mullins positively influenced the entire Christian music industry, bringing authenticity and a St. Francis type of humility and world loyalty that stood in sharp contrast to the greedy, self-absorbed 1980’s and angst-filled 1990’s.  I am generally not comfortable praying to Jesus because I don’t think he wanted that and for other theological reasons that in no way deter my devotion to following in Jesus’ footsteps.  Yet, the song, Hold Me Jesus, bubbled up anyway. I took it as a lure from the Spirit of God and found lasting resonance and healing in its lyrics, music, and tone. Maybe it will for you, too.

     Process Question: Have you ever tapped into a healing beyond the physical, a deeper wholeness despite not getting your prayer-wish granted?

     Paul Kix and Hunt Priest ended up discovering a living God again that was big enough for all their questions and loving enough to trust with their lives. If you’re considering giving up, that’s understandable and certainly an option.  But could it be that you still have a prayer?  That the voice of God may yet whisper to you again, meeting you in the sound of silence with words of hope and a future? How do you need to pray today?  Bruce Epperly reminds us that “prayers create a space for personal and global transformation. I pray with my heart and act with my hands.” (Praying with Process Theology, 93). Maybe, as you struggle with praying, praying is exactly what you need to do.  The Lord’s Prayer taught by Jesus offers a structure for prayer.  Perhaps using its framework might give God some tools to work with to come a bit closer to you, bring healing and wholeness once more, and ground you in Love. Quite naturally, perhaps the effect of such praying may have impact beyond your life – how can it not?

The Lord’s Prayer:  A Guided Meditation

Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. We join Jesus in addressing God literally as a loving Daddy (Abba – look it up), recognizing God’s purity/holiness, and goodness.

Thy Kingdom come; Thy will be done as it is in heaven. In light of God’s identity as Love, we align ourselves with wanting Love to permeate everyone and everything as the only hope for personal, relational, political, and environmental healing.

Give us this day our daily bread. We look to God for nourishment, grateful for the fact that we have literal food, wanting to do our part to provide for hunger relief in ways great and small, and being open to a “bread” for our souls that is more than literal.

Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. What are we holding over others that is preventing them from being well?  How are we holding onto unforgiveness to limit another’s experience of love – at least from us? Do we realize what a foolish move this is? Are we aware that our experience of grace is tied to our gracefulness? Not that God withholds grace from us – which is always completely available to us in full – but that our holding debt over others limits our capacity to receive and live in grace.  This is a hard truth, but it is true.

Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. We admit that we can be suckers and are stating that we only want to be wooed by the love of God, by Love itself.

For Thine is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Glory forever. We want to build our lives on that which is True Community, that which is the greatest Power, and that which is gloriously Eternal – Love.  May it be so.

Songs Incorporated in today’s service: Blessed Be Your Name, True Colors, Full Attention, Hold Me Jesus

Entangled Prayer Week 4: Spiritual Adventures

Prayer is bigger than our uttered words to God.  Prayer is our living, breathing spirituality.  It is wider in vision than our own lives, looking toward the whole of creation.  As Bruce Epperly notes, “Whereas once spirituality was seen as an escape from the world, often taking us away from embodiment and the hardscrabble world of politics and economics, today many people see the spiritual journey as holistic in nature, embracing body, mind, spirit, relationships, and the planet. We are all, as Thomas Merton notes, guilty bystanders who are called by God to immerse ourselves in global transformation as part of our spiritual journeys (Praying with Process Theology, 69.  This is a bigger way to think about prayer than I understood in my earlier years, when I thought of it as much more individually oriented, for my personal obedience to God – not thinking a lot about world loyalty.  My soul needed growing.

     In a daily reading entitled, How Big Is Your Soul? Epperly describes what kind of spirituality we need in our world: “Today, we need persons of stature, extravagant spirited persons who can embrace political, economic, ethnic, and racial diversity in our increasingly polarizing age. We need to have the largeness of soul to treat our opponents with the same care as we give to those for whom we advocate. We need to commit ourselves to constantly enlarging our spirits, so that no person is foreign and every place is our spiritual home” (Praying with Process Theology, 75).  Yet for most of us, life distracts us from such an expansive faith.

     The Prophet Elijah had just finished a showdown with the prophets of Baal.  God won. The prophets of Baal were wiped out.  It was an incredible story depicting the tremendous power of God.  Immediately following the throwdown, Elijah learns that the wicked Queen Jezebel intended to have him killed for wiping out the prophets.  Instead of standing firm in faith, Elijah ran for his life – eventually all the way to the famed Mt. Sinai, where Moses received the Ten Commandments.  Some people will travel great lengths to get close to God!  What happened next is a scene for the ages:

     “Go out and stand before me on the mountain,” the LORD told him. And as Elijah stood there, the LORD passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And a voice said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Kings 19:11-13 NLT)

     Elijah was indeed a human being.  He learned that it is in the sound of silence that we hear the voice of God.  No longer directed by his fear, he learned that he was not alone, and that there was another chapter about to unfold that would extend beyond his time as prophet. He was part of a larger story and God was inviting him to help that chapter unfold.  God’s question, “What are you doing here?” is always for us as well, a reminder that we have choice in the lives we live with the decisions we make.  We are always invited by the spirit of God toward maturity and beauty.  Patricia Ann Farmer hopes that we will have fat souls: “A beautiful soul is a large soul, one that can overcome the smallness and pettiness of our human condition. A really fat soul can welcome diverse people, ideas, and ways of being in the world without feeling threatened. A fat soul experiences the intensity of life in its fullness, even the painful side of life, and knows there is something still bigger” (Fat Soul Fridays, 12-13).

     How do we fatten up our souls?  Spirituality is the key. “By spirituality,” notes Jay McDaniel, “I mean openness to God’s Breathing, dad by day, moment by moment, relative to the circumstances at hand. Understood in this way, spirituality is not supernatural or extraordinary but deeply natural and wholly ordinary. It can be embodied at home and at the workplace, while alone and with others, amid dishwashing and diaper changing, laughing and crying, living and dying” (Living from the Center, 3).  Every activity can become a prayerful one, every moment holy, because – if we’ll have it – everything is spiritual.

     Last week after church Lynne and I stopped in to see the art of Carlye Jesch as part of Napa’s annual Open Studios art festival, where you can visit local artists where they do their work.  Carlye walked around with us, telling us about her art – what materials she used, her creative process, etc.  Since I am terrible with this art form, I had/have tremendous respect for Carlye, and I had lots of questions, which she was happy to answer.  I ended up really appreciating a painting named “Jordan”.  Many of the titles of her paintings come from book characters, including this one.  It is a sunset scene on the sea, with magnificent colors playing with the clouds above, and three sailboats drifting by.  I liked the painting all by itself, but I love the painting because of its relationship to other subsequent paintings.  “Jordan” was the first of her sailboats at sea paintings, created at the time when she picked up the brush after having put it down for a long time.  We had seen the later paintings earlier in our tour – “Jordan” wasn’t placed near them, yet the similarities were evident to me.  She later wondered herself how Jordan was a precursor that she hadn’t recognized before.  The later paintings are part of what she calls her Reepicheep series, based on the same-named character from the book, The Dawn Treader, part of C.S. Lewis’ series of books, The Chronicles of Narnia.  Carlye notes:

     In C.S. Lewis’ series, “The Chronicles of Narnia,” Reepicheep is a mouse, petite in size, yet bounding with courage and faithfulness.  His whole life he dreams of Aslan’s country, “Where sky and water meet,” and carries with him the hope he will see it one day. I have often connected with the character of Reepicheep, feeling small, yet driven to continue on.  I have consistently been emotionally moved by the moment when he first realizes that he has in fact, arrived.

     When I created the first piece in this series, I was not thinking of this small creature, but simply playing with the idea of a colorful clouded sky and moving ocean water, enjoying the fact that I wasn’t entirely sure myself where one ended and the other began.  Once I realized this was reminiscent of Reepicheep’s story, I chose his name as the title for the series I wanted to create. Each of the newer pieces includes at least one metallic ship. The ships allude to the theme of journey, while the metallic coloring gives a hint of something richer, something beyond.

     I love the adventure inherent in sailing.  The ups and downs of the swells, the interaction with the wind, the spray of water on your face from time to time.  I have only sailed a handful of times, but I know enough to appreciate its wildness and the requirement to participate meaningfully if you hope to get anywhere.  I also loved hearing about Carlye’s artistic process – the Reepicheep vision – but also the nuts and bolts of how she goes about creating her pieces.  Layers.  Textures.  Sometimes tape being lifted to reveal a different line beneath. She noted that when she paints, it is in some way a dialogue, as if the painting is calling to her in particular ways.  She responds and responds and responds until she feels that it is complete.  She has her story about the painting, her experience of it, and then she offers it to the world.

     Those who then interact with her painting become part of that dialogue, too, as questions are asked, insights offered, and new storylines emerge, even for the artist.  Part of why I wanted the painting for myself is because it represents the beginning of something.  It is the genesis of what would lead to the beautiful, inspirational Reepicheep series depicting that space where heaven touches the sea, and you cannot tell them apart.  Beautiful.  Jordan certain has elements of that image.  I love it because that represents part of Carlye’s life journey as she picked up the brush after years of a struggle with OCD.  That takes courage.

     Beyond what her intentions were, I love the names she chose for my painting and the subsequent others (two more are in process – Reepicheep 1 and Reepicheep 2).  But the three book characters that were ascribed to the paintings, in order, were Jordan, Jonah, and Henry.  My painting is a seascape, while the Jordan is a river in Israel of great significance.  My mind goes beyond the river to the people who crossed it.  The Hebrews were the Jewish people of old.  Most people associate the word Hebrews with the region of Hebron where they settled.  Yet there is another rendering that I find more compelling.  Hebrew can be translated as “cross over”.  The Hebrews were people who crossed over. The Red Sea in the famous Exodus story.  And the Jordan River as they crossed over to the Promised Land.  In the waters of the Jordan a foreign military leader, Naaman, was healed of Leprosy after bathing in it seven times at the direction of Elijah’s predecessor, Elisha – a crossing over from a death sentence to new life.  John the Baptist baptized throngs of people – their expression of their crossing over to faithful readiness for what God wanted to do in their time and place.  Jesus himself was among those baptized – his baptism was a crossing over from little-known carpenter to itinerant healer and teacher.  A painting depicting three sailboats at dusk – a crossing over from one time and place to another.  An artist who was doing the same.

  The next painting, “Jonah”, depicts three ships sort of going away from the golden space associated with Reepicheep’s vision of Aslan’s sea.  Fitting title, given the biblical Jonah chose to flee instead of going where God instructed.  That’s the human experience.  We sometimes have the vista right in front of us and choose to turn and go in another direction, which we have the freedom to do.

     Finally, Henry, the clearest of the examples of Reepicheep’s vision where there is not a clear line on the horizon.  Carlye mentioned that this painting is of particular importance for her:

     Henry is extra important to me because the character is from the book I was reading when my Grandpa Fred was passing. It's also important because foster care was another thing that "called to me before I heard it." I had been wanting to name a painting after Henry for a long time (a fictional child placed in foster care from the book, “Chicken Boy”), but my OCD wouldn't let me... the book was "contaminated" in my mind because of a joke another character made about selling his soul to the devil by joining an HOA. Anyways, the moment I had the strength to name a painting Henry was meaningful for me in my journey, and it was afterwards that the painting made me think of Reepicheep.

     While Jordan and Jonah made me raise my eyebrows, when I heard the title of the third painting, Henry, it didn’t mean anything to me.  There aren’t any Henry’s or Hanks in the Bible.  Or so I thought.  It turns out the English name, Henry, is a play-off of the French name, Henri, which comes from the German name, Heimeric, which translates as the “ruler of the house.”  The most concise English translation of the name, Henry, is “lord.”  The painting she was working on and dialoguing with as her beloved grandfather was fading was named Lord. She was interacting with the Lord while he drew closer and closer to death. She was painting the scene he was headed for.  The name of the painting that empowered her to take a big step in her battle with OCD was literally the name of the Lord. She called on the name of the Lord – Henry – and experienced a degree of salvation, of healing.

     And three ships in each of the three paintings – and the two more to come? Carlye made the choice for aesthetics – one or two seemed too few, four seemed too many, three seemed just right.  Fair enough, and who am I to question an artist’s eye?  And yet, three ships make me think of the Trinity – God depicted as the moving dance between three characters or modes of being – Creator/Father, Redeemer/Incarnate/Son, and Sustainer/Spirit.  I think of the Christmas Carol, I Saw Three Ships.  What were they carrying? Christ.

     In a postmodern world where such dialogue between artists, architects, writers, etc. and their audience allows for meaning to grow beyond original intent, I am free to muse here.  Equipped with an Open and Relational Theology where God is constantly wooing us whether we know it or not, I am simply offering that Carlye, given all the scenes available to her to paint, may have been wooed to choose such a seascape where the earth and sky meld as one, lured to choose names from fiction that carried deep meaning, including the presence of three ships that symbolize the ongoing interaction between God and all of creation.  The more I think about the art, the more I think I got a steal on this treasure.

     Bernard Loomer offers insight into the phenomena I believe was unfolding in Carlye’s art (and life): “Every important revelation, every important incarnation, carries with itself the principle of transcendence. Every revelation exists to be surpassed and therefore every revelation contains within itself a pointing beyond itself” (“S-I-Z-E is the measure,” Cargas and Lee, Religious Experience and Process Theology, 75).   Carlye’s every move was met with God’s every woo, resulting in my meaningful acquisition. So it is with us.

     May we have the faith and heart to join Bruce Epperly in his prayer: “Creative Wisdom, move me to action that heals the Earth. Help me see your calling in my daily tasks and my responsibilities as a citizen. Give me faith to move the mountain of apathy and passivity. Help me find the peace that calms and empowers and trusts your loving power in all things. Amen. (Praying with Process Theology, 84)

I breathe the spirit deeply in

And blow it gratefully out again.