2017
Lenten Meditations
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Table of Contents Rector’s Introduction March 1 (Ash Wednesday) March 2 March 3 March 4 March 5 (First Sunday of Lent) March 6 March 7 March 8 March 9 March 10 March 11 March 12 (Second Sunday of Lent) March 13 March 14 March 15 March 16 March 17 March 18 March 19 (Third Sunday of Lent) March 20 March 21 March 22 March 23 March 24 March 25
5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 30 32
March 26 (Fourth Sunday of Lent) March 27 March 28 March 29 March 30 March 31 April 1 April 2 (Fifth Sunday of Lent) April 3 April 4 April 5 April 6 April 7 April 8 April 9 (Palm Sunday) April 10 (Holy Week Monday) April 11 (Holy Week Tuesday) April 12 (Holy Week Wednesday) April 13 (Maundy Thursday) April 14 (Good Friday) April 15 (Holy Saturday) April 16 (Easter Sunday)
33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 52 53 54 55
Lent Meditations 2017 Year 1 from the Book of Common Prayer Year A of the Revised Common Lectionary
Sharing our Saint Michael story with others is a passion of mine. You know that I regularly beat the drum of evangelism, encouraging you to invite your family and friends to join you at Saint Michael worship and other events. But for many of us, telling our faith story is not easy. This Lent, what if telling your family, friends, and neighbors the story of Saint Michael is your Lenten discipline? As we journey through the season of Lent, we are invited to walk through the wilderness of our own lives. Everyone goes through low points, rough patches, where life is far from what we hope it will be. When we are going through those wilderness periods, we are stripped of the pretense of strength and control that we often carry with us. When the going gets rough, we often can’t go it alone. One of the phrases I often hear from well-intentioned Christians is God never gives you more than you can handle. I know that idea comes from a good place, but it is not biblical and far from the truth of our created identity. God created us to live in relationship with God and one another. But we were created with the free will to respond to God’s love or not, and respond with love to one another, too. That’s where participation in a church community comes into play. Telling our stories is important in building relationships that last, relationships that help us change for the better. The struggle of life, from the small frustrations to the desperate heartbreaks, hits us all. You are not alone when you want to shake your fist and let out a big scream! But I hope you know that God loves us, even when we’re a mess, and that hopefulness of God’s love is missing from the lives of so many around us — but we can change that! This Lent, as you go about your routine, I invite you to consider how God is trying to work in the world through you (yes you!) and when you feel like you want to extend the hand of love to stranger, when you are nudged toward sympathy when you least expect it, or when you get the urge to invite someone to go to church with you, listen! You just might be the light of Christ that God is trying to shine in someone else’s darkness. This Lent, I invite you to share your story of faith, hope, and love as a part of the Saint Michael family, and through you, help to bring about the kingdom of heaven on earth! Blessings,
Christopher D. Girata Rector
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March 1
Ash Wednesday
Bill Murray
Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 | Psalm 103:8-14 | 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10 | Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Our fingerprints are on everything. On a day like Ash Wednesday when we know that we are going to be called out for being no good, we know they will find our fingerprints and just about any and every evil the world has to offer. From our personal failures to corporate sin, we seem to do a fine job of messing things up royally. I do not have to think long or hard about all I have done to reach a point where God has every right to come after me. My fingerprints are all over those things. It is like a poorly played game of Clue. Yes, God it was me in the drawing room with the Book of Common Prayer. I did it. I am ready for the judgment and condemnation. Yes, our fingerprints are on everything. Even on the things we think we got right- especially on the things for which we are proud. Our fingerprints are on those things we think we got right but may not be as perfect as we believed. Our fingerprints are on those things we have chased – the ribbons or plaques or trophies. If you think Lent is only about our sin and failure, then you have not been paying attention. The words from the prayer book do not stop with the bad when they say, “Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.” Everything we have and are will be turned to dust; not just the bad - all of our accomplishments and achievements as well. Earlier this week, the faithful altar guild ladies gathered up the dry, withered branches swung at Palm Sunday last year. The ashes that will be used to mark our foreheads come from the withered, hollow victory of Jesus’ welcome to Jerusalem. Our fingerprints are all over those palms when we shouted, hosanna. Our successes and our failures alike are turned to ash and dust in the face of death. The science of fingerprinting has become a ubiquitous part of modern conversation. Regardless of the movie or television show, we have all seen a lab technician with a small brush sweeping an area in search of this critical evidence in a crime. The technique is surprisingly low tech in our high tech world. The natural oil on our hands leaves behind a print on almost everything we touch. To find this otherwise invisible mark, a dust is carefully spread over an area which the oil absorbs to reveal the evidence of presence. I would like to posit that the imposition of ashes is not simply a reminder that death comes to us all, it does. Today the imposition of ashes is also a magnificent reminder of the moment at baptism where a finger is dipped in holy oil and the sign of the cross is marked on our forehead with the words, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” (BCP 308) Today, on Ash Wednesday, two liturgical acts are woven together. Yes, Lent is about repentance, self-examination, prayer, and self-denial. Lent is also about recalling that through baptism we are loved, cherished, redeemed, and claimed as God’s own. Ashes are spread on our forehead in a specific pattern to reveal an otherwise invisible mark. The dust is, on some level, absorbed by the chrismation oil of Baptism to reveal the evidence of God’s constant presence in our lives. On Ash Wednesday, we reveal in visible dust God’s fingerprint on us despite all that we have done. God claims us as God’s own and everything else is secondary. Our failures that we rightfully bemoan, our successes that we celebrate, and everything in between. Our baptism is what grounds us and roots us as God’s children. Our baptism is what gives us hope that death is not the final word. Our baptism is that mark of our faith where we can find God’s fingerprints all over us, holding us, caring for us, and claiming and then reclaiming us again and again. So, wear the ashes as a reminder that you have failed and have sinned and are broken. Wear those ashes with the knowledge that our victories and successes are hollow and empty in the face of death. But above all, wear those ashes as proof that you are loved and cherished as one of God’s children. Wear those ashes as proof that on your heart, soul, and body you forever carry the 6 fingerprint of God.
March 2
Mary Waller Deut. 7:6-11 | Psalm 37:19-42 | Titus 1:1-16 | John 1:29-34
In John 1:29-34, John the Baptist testifies that he has seen Jesus: “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” By using the imagery of the Paschal Lamb, John is telling us exactly who Jesus is: One who gives his very life to bring freedom to us sinners. In his testimony, John also says, “I saw the Spirit come down from Heaven as a dove and remain on him.“ This is a visible manifestation of the Holy Spirit on Jesus. And finally John says, “I have seen and testified that this is the Son of God.” Through John’s witness and documentation, we too can believe that Jesus is the Son of God. How will I know when I “see” Jesus? I don’t think there will be a dove resting on my neighbor’s shoulder so that I might recognize the Holy Spirit. On Martin Luther King Day this year, I participated in the Dallas Dinner Table, an event that tries to achieve an America without racism, one meal at a time. I ate dinner in a stranger’s house, with 5 other strangers, all of us from different racial and economic backgrounds. This was a perfect setting to find Jesus! We had three hours of honest and heartfelt conversation. We listened deeply and respectfully to one another without interruption. In an attempt to eliminate racial stereotypes, we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable. With this openness, I truly felt the Holy Spirit working among us and guiding us. Through this gift of community, God was with us. Jesus was there inspiring us to spread the word of acceptance and kindness. Jesus offered himself, completely, for the whole of humanity, and I ask myself during this Lenten season, what can I offer to help my neighbor? After this dinner, I can help by spreading the word of hope and love that I shared with perfect strangers. I can try to love others, as I want to be loved. Through this gift of community, the Holy Spirit was present at this dinner table. Direct us, O Lord, in all our doings with thy most gracious favor, and further us with thy continual help; that in all our works begun, continued, and ended in thee, we may glorify thy holy Name, and finally, by thy mercy, obtain everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
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March 3
Ann Woodall Deut. 7:12-16 | Psalm 35 | Titus 2:1-15 | John 1:35-42
Perhaps it’s just a matter of taste or a literary bias, but I much prefer the Jesus of Matthew, Mark, and Luke to the Jesus portrayed in the Gospel of John. For me, the former writers present a more lifelike, more accessible teacher, guide, even friend. How ironic to be assigned a lection from John and how intriguing this invitation to focus here not on Jesus’s divine “I am’s” but, in effect, his more human “What about you?” We might assume that Andrew and the other disciple of John the Baptist in the story had witnessed the Holy Spirit descending upon Jesus the day before at his baptism. Maybe that’s what first got their attention. Inspired, mystified, or simply curious—whatever their first reaction, when they see Jesus walking and hear John calling him the Lamb of God, Andrew and the disciple strike out in pursuit. What was it in this moment that motivated that kind of response? Were they attracted to the idea of Jesus as the holy Lamb of God? Were they taken by some mannerism, some look in Jesus’s eyes, his composure, or a certain vitality or sense of integrity? What did they think he could provide—clarity for their lives, purpose, comfort, an infusion of courage? Each of us can project what they might have been looking for. Each of us can imagine what they saw in Jesus. We also might wonder what he saw in them. Andrew and the other disciple don’t comment to each other, they simply follow; and when Jesus feels their presence and asks what they are looking for, their answer seems sort of shy and tongue-tied: “Where are you staying?” Not “Who are you?” or “What are you all about?” Just “Where are you staying?” “Come and see,” Jesus says in response. Simply, “Come and see.” And they did, and they stayed, and later Andrew brought Peter. Whatever transpired wasn’t about enjoying Jesus’s lodgings, but it changed their lives. Here in the eighth decade of my life I still wonder if I am more attracted to the idea of Jesus than to the example of Jesus. It’s fairly easy to come and observe, but do I really “see” that his Way works in my life, in our times? Do I fully appreciate that the Kingdom of God is right here in that space between me and other people? Will I have confidence in what I see? Will I keep coming? All these musings remind me of a line from one of Frederick Buechner’s definitions in his book Wishful Thinking. The last sentence in his definition of “feet” is a wonderful gauge of intentionality: “Generally speaking, if you want to know who you really are as distinct from who you like to think you are, keep an eye on where your feet take you.” As in “Come and see.”
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March 4
Donna Cozort Deut. 7:17-26 | Psalm 42, 43 | Titus 3:1-15 | John 1:43-51
In both Psalms 42 and 43, the psalmist cries out’ “Why are thou cast down, Oh my soul?” We can feel like this when we are defeated or feel a sense of failure or loss. There was a potter who put all of her time and effort into making the most beautiful pot—even fretting into the wee hours, wondering how to make it perfect. After much time, effort and deliberation, her perfect pot was at last put in the kiln and fired. However, when it was taken from the fire, the pot had a large crack on its side. The potter was so distraught that she was about to smash it into tiny shards when the master potter stopped her hand and gently guided her in filling in the crack with gold filament. Although the pot was not perfect, it glowed with such beauty and was so successful among collectors that a new trend in gold filled pots began. May our prayer be that we will wait on the Lord, our Master Potter, to guide our hand and use our brokenness to create true beauty and grace in the world; for it most often is from our cracks that the light of our Master comes shining in.
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March 5
First Sunday of Lent
Tricia Stewart
Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7 | Psalm 32 | Romans 5:12-19 | Matthew 4:1-11 Many years ago, I took on a spiritual quiet time for my Lenten discipline. Daily, I read the appointed scriptures and the meditations prepared by Saint Michael staff and parishioners. It was a joyful experience and after those forty (46) days of Lent, I had formed a new habit. I continued with the daily readings and added praying for those on my prayer list. Of course, I missed the meditations but learned to meditate on my own. The readings can be found in The Daily Office in the Book of Common Prayer. As the years passed and technology increased, I found I didn’t have to carry my Bible and Prayer Book when leaving town. Yes, there’s an app for that! All you need is your phone, tablet, or laptop. There is an app called The Daily Office from The Mission of St. Clare. It has Morning and Evening Prayer and all the readings for the day. Oh, every Lent I look forward to the Meditation booklet and am thrilled to have the Advent Meditations too. It’s only the first Sunday in Lent. Maybe you would like to give it a try too. Read the scriptures appointed for today and hopefully, this meditation will be inspirational to you. The readings for today are familiar: in Genesis, we have the temptation of Adam and Eve in the garden to eat the forbidden fruit; in Matthew, we have the temptation of Jesus by the devil in the wilderness; and in Romans, we have the assurance of grace through Christ to forgive us all our sins. We are tempted daily and fall short daily. We fall into sin as the story of Adam and Eve explains. We, unlike Jesus in the wilderness, are unable to stand up to the temptations that taunt us but with God’s help, we are forgiven. We receive grace, unconditionally, without earning it. It is a gift that is free but not without cost. How we respond to that gift is our challenge. We are to love one another and share that love and grace with all humankind. Out of gratitude, we are charged to serve others just as Jesus did. “For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ!” Dear Heavenly Father, help us be quiet daily; to pray and to listen to your word through scripture and through the “angels who attend” us. Guide us to share your grace through love, forgiveness, and service to others. Amen.
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March 6
Bob Johnston Deut. 8:11-20 | Psalm 44 | Hebrews 2:11-18 | John 2:1-12 “Celebrating God’s Goodness”
I once heard a spiritual director say, “We celebrate God for the good things He has done to help us trust in the face of mysteries, trials, and the things we do not understand.” I think we see support for this principle in our readings today. The writer in Deuteronomy is reminding the readers of all the great things God has done in leading His people out of bondage in Egypt and, ultimately, into full possession of the Promised Land. The writer wants them to remember the source of these good things in order not to just trust, but to remember to keep God’s ways and remain humble. He recalls God’s goodness to help call them to the challenging task of remaining faithful. The psalmist today has a particular order to his proclamation. He too recalls the great deeds of God and how God is the key to success. After recalling these great deeds, he then begins to call out to God for how things are going and begging God to take action. He begins with what he understands and knows is good before he moves to his pain and request. He recalls God’s goodness to help him trust as he seeks help. The writer from Hebrews reflects on the greatness of God in coming to Earth. He writes of Jesus as our brother but also as high priest and the one who atones. Because Jesus has done all this, He can help those who are being tested. He implicitly is bringing to mind God’s goodness before addressing how God helps those being tested. Finally, in our Gospel lesson from John, we hear about Jesus’ first miracle at the wedding in Cana of Galilee. After experiencing such an awesome miracle, verse 11 says the Disciples believed in Him. One can imagine that His great deeds helped them in faith with things they did not understand. The passage also has St. Mary’s one-sentence sermon in which she says, “Do whatever he tells you” (2:5). She leads us to the ultimate place of trust: willingness to listen and do whatever He says. His faithful past leads us to lean into His future for us even in the mystery and even in the pain that life sometimes presents. These patterns are part of what the church has always embraced. We celebrate God and His glory for who He is and what He has done. This helps us to trust as we face the brokenness of the world and the mysteries of life.
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March 7
Joan Faubion Deut. 9:4-12 | Psalm 47, 48 | Hebrews 3:1-11 | John 2:13-22
How easy do you and I admit to a hard heart, a closed mind, on certain topics… In my appointed Scriptures, we are accused of being a stiff-necked people! What, us? Surely not. When, Lord? (Funny thing – every spouse confirm.) In PS 47, 48, we find a strong focus on praise; that God is worthy to be praised. In Deuteronomy 9:4-12 we are confronted with a warning not to say in our hearts, “I have these things because I am good and my neighbor doesn’t have them because he is bad.” Verses in John 2:13-22 are a scathing reminder of Jesus’ anger over activities in the temple. In Hebrews 3:1-11 we are admonished not to let our hearts harden. Have you noticed -- it’s always a heart issue. Perhaps we all still saying “not my heart; when Lord, did I ever harden my heart?” That is my neighbor’s issue – not mine. Suddenly I recalled lines from Ankle Deep and Drowning illustrative of one reason why we don’t have intimacy with Divine: I have spent long hours in the laundromat of my mind pre-soaking neurons in dank waters of why and why not, obsessing through each cycle spin-drying thoughts, tossed and tumbled, until my synapses run out of quarters to feed this need for a clean heart. - Anne Dichele I was stricken in my heart when I recalled these lines. I said to myself, “but my ruminating thoughts were tiny and seemed insignificant.” Then I re-considered -- they did rob peace and take up bandwidth. Bandwidth I could have used for praise, prayer, and many positive deeds for others. Wonder why I didn’t learn in my younger years quickly to humble myself, accept GRACE and let Grace cleanse my heart? Then with a thankful heart, praises would have come naturally. Could it be that for many years I was still trying to impress God that I could figure everything out and clean myself up? Clearly, in my youth, my hard heart robbed me of peace of mind as well as the greater gift – Intimacy with Divine. Thankfully, Divine pursues us relentlessly.
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March 8
Ross Badgett Deut. 9:13-21 | Psalm 49, 53 | Hebrews 3:12-19 | John 2:23-3:15
I can relate to the ancient Israelites when we meet them in Deuteronomy chapter 9. Not their particular situation, mind you – I’m not a former slave-turned member of a nomadic tribe. I can just see, from their point of view, why it was fair to wonder whether God had their best interests in mind when freeing them from Egypt. On the surface, life wasn’t all that much better wandering the desert than it was in slavery. At least they’d had places to sleep and didn’t have to worry so much about food. And the deaths! So many people passed away during the wanderings, never getting to see the land flowing with milk and honey that was promised to them. Then there’s Moses. He came out of nowhere, but they’re supposed to trust him. Even though he has some difficulty speaking, he’s the tribe’s intercessor with God and their guide on this journey to the promised land. He’s the only person who seems to know where they’re going. I bet it was hard for the Israelites when he disappeared to Mount Horeb for 40 days. Wouldn’t you feel directionless after waiting more than a month for your leader to return? I think I understand why the Israelites wanted a golden calf. They needed a tangible representation of God to help them worship! I’m not saying it was a good likeness or anything. I just think they felt stuck in a rut during Moses’ absence. That feeling of trust being eroded and worrying whether they’re doing the right thing? Totally relatable! I think we all have moments where we feel the same way. How should we approach those moments? Well, Deuteronomy 9 gives us a crash course in what not to do. We watch the Israelites grow impatient waiting for their spiritual guide and take matters into their own hands by trying to find God through idolatry (an example of why it’s bad for us to make our own decisions sometimes). Ultimately, Moses has to be their intercessor because God is ready to destroy them for their corruption. Idol worship, as they’ve already been told, is a no-no. I’ve read many translations of verse 13 that use the word “stiff-necked.” Even though it’s meant to be stubborn or rebellious (i.e. how God views the Israelites’ idolatry), I see it a bit more literally. Whenever I have a stiff neck, I don’t like to move it very much. As a result, there’s a lot on the periphery of my vision that I miss, relative to a day when my neck is feeling better and I can really look around. What if part of God’s frustration stems from the Israelites’ “narrowed focus” not allowing them to see all the ways God was already present with them? And, instead of being patient and trusting enough to see God’s bigger picture, they compounded the problem by trying to make a solution from within the confines of their narrow worldview? I know I have the same tendency as the Israelites to get consumed in my little corner of the universe, distracted by “idols” and not truly present in the moment. I can’t imagine all the things God has tried to tell me along the way that I simply missed. Do you feel the same way? Join me today in practicing mindfulness wherever you are. Try not to let your mind wander away from what’s immediately in front of you. God is present with us, but we have to be actively watching and listening for those moments when God reaches out.
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March 9
Shannon Callewart
Deut. 9:23-10:5 | Psalm 59, 60 or 19, 46 | Hebrews 4:1-10 | John 3:16-21 I look forward to doing something to commemorate Lent. I like having some sort of discipline to do and the satisfaction of keeping a promise of some sort. Faith has so many intangibles that I like making something measurable and visible be part of my spiritual practice. In fact, two sides of the same coin of practicing Christianity are what I am focusing on this Lent. The two parts are personal, private spiritual practices and communal worship and fellowship. Our Hebrews reading today tells us “Today, when you hear him calling, do not harden your hearts. The promise of entering his rest is still open, let us take care that none of you should seem to have failed to reach it.” So why is it hard to do? I know many people who I suspect only give lip service to having faith. Lent is a perfect opportunity to think about why I could fail to enter God’s rest and to do something about it. For me, the private and personal part of keeping faith is easier- the things I do by myself: daily meditation, some daily prayer, feeling joy for gorgeous things in the natural world. My belief in God is stronger for making time for these things. A sunset can start a private conversation with God easily and renew my faith that God’s existence is the only possible explanation for this life. It’s tangible proof and my faith is rock solid. But a busy schedule can cause me to forgo these things. I even read things that trouble me in the Bible that cause doubts. I can realize it’s been days since I talked to God, and it’s a slippery slope. I want to stay in my PJ’s on Sunday. Then I realize it’s hard to do by myself. The other side of the coin that keeps it together for me is that I belong to a community of people at St. Michael. If my spiritual practice seems stale or I doubt God’s omnipotence, I look around on Sunday morning and I am standing shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of people that by their presence lift me up. It’s the oft-repeated wisdom: 90% of success is just showing up. The people of this church help me maintain my faith because you’ve shown up- whether because you share your faith during classes, in services, conversation, or outreach -indeed joining together in anything. The fact that you have shown up is truly a Godsend to me. My faith is maintained in part by just your presence. Perhaps faith is contagious in a way. I could just stay in my PJ’s on Sunday, but that thing about God’s promise is really more important.( And the alternative is scary) Whatever we do to maintain and carefully tend our faith is perhaps different for each of us. I know that I need both- peaceful time alone in conversation with God, and belonging to the body of Christ in this parish. I don’t intend to take God’s offer for granted. I’ve witnessed God at work in my life and the lives of others. The spots of joy and peace that God grant in this life is proof that resting in the Kingdom of God is worth anything to keep up my end of the promise!
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March 10
Karen Wiley Deut. 10:12-22 | Psalm 51 | Hebrews 4:11-16 | John 3:22-36
Please begin by reading the passage from Deuteronomy. The question in the title line, posed and then answered in the reading, was addressed not only to ancient Israel but begs a response from each of us on a daily basis. As I read and reflected upon the passage I was reminded of another famous selection, Deuteronomy 6: 4-7a. In Jewish tradition, these verses are known as the Shema, from the first word in the Hebrew which means “hear.” “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord; and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might. And these words which I command you this day shall be upon your heart; and you shall teach them diligently to your children…” So it seems that what God requires of us is to listen and to remember not who we are, but whose we are. We are to keep that remembrance on our hearts and to live in love, obedience, and gratitude for all God’s blessings. Further, the injunction to teach these words to our children brought to mind verses from the 1940 Hymnal. This hymn appeared in the children’s section but carries profound meaning as we reflect on God the Creator who numbers the hairs on our heads and knows each of us by name. God who made the earth, the air, the sky, the sea, who gave the light its birth, careth for thee. God who made the grass, the flower, the fruit, the tree, the day and night to pass, careth for thee. God who made the sun, the moon, the stars is He who when life’s clouds come on, careth for thee.
-Sarah Betts Rhodes 1870, alt.
What does the Lord our God require of you and me? To care for others as God cares for us.
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March 11
Greg Pickens
Deut. 11:18-28 | Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23) | Hebrews 5:1-10 | John 4:1-26 Many of you know I became an Episcopalian through the writings of a most beloved Episcopal priest, Homer Rogers. I picked up a compendium of his Inquirer’s Class notes published under the title “Uncommon Sense” at the Borders Books on Preston and Royal Lane in 1991 and by the time I had finished the book, I had been persuaded to worship as an Episcopalian. I walked in to what was to become my home parish of Holy Nativity in Plano and when I saw the worship there for the first time, my bond with Jesus changed forever. Soon enough, I began to prepare for my first confession by dutifully creating my “sin list”. I can’t tell you how nervous I was that early Saturday morning when I climbed into the confessional on the left side as one enters the church; I was literally shaking and sweating. As I sat in that wooden box waiting for the priest to open the screen, I began to hear a quiet POP, POP sound. I couldn’t quite get a bead on where those pops were originating. I look down and I realized my nose was bleeding (I guess from the stress) and the sound was the droplets striking my sin list, staining it deep red. I believe with all my heart that sin has an incredible corrosive effect on our souls and our communication with God. I believe that confession is good for the soul (James 5:16) and for relationships. But also, the older I get, I wonder about the guilt that sometimes is associated with confession. If we actually are the adopted daughters and sons of God through Christ Jesus, why should anyone be nervous about recognizing one’s faults in Reconciliation? Our scriptures for today provide for several lessons. The first is that God invites us to inscribe the Commandments on our hearts so we can know what we are called to do and who we are called to be as believers. The second is that we continually grapple with the gift of Jesus Christ. The third is that Jesus already knows us through and through. There is nothing that we can hide from him who saved us, so to be nervous or reticent about our shortcomings seems infantile. Even now I often find elements of my faith to be infantile and I wonder what is it that holds me back from being a complete expression of who I am called to be in Christ Jesus. Surely this comes from my need to be master of my own life. This is what I try to work on: to understand I was created by a most generous and loving God, that because God made me – God already knows my shortcomings, and as I continually accept the Lord Jesus deeper into my life – I am less fearful about sharing my most human foibles. By the way, are you interested in what Fr. Biegler gave me for my penance after my first confession? It was to read aloud Psalm 139:1-17 three times in the church before leaving that day. That old priest perhaps saw the same thing in me that I had to discover for myself over these last 26 years – that the Almighty already knows me, so stop acting as if I am a great mystery. For your meditation: please read each of the lessons in a quiet place. When you are finished, reread the Psalm and think on how you are known and forgiven. Find someone today to know and forgive. 16
March 12
Second Sunday of Lent
Sandra Hughes
Genesis 12:1-4a | Psalm 121 | Romans 4:1-5, 13-17 | John 3:1-17
In John 3: 1-15 Jesus explains to Nicodemus that without understanding earthly things, how can heavenly things be understood. He then alludes to the story of Moses lifting up the serpent in the wilderness, and states that so must the Son of Man be lifted up to eternal life! Just as believers must accept the former, seemingly impossible, then they must accept the latter, even more mysterious and unbelievable. It is by faith and faith alone that these things can be accepted. When I think of a great example of faith, I think of my father. He was a gentle, honest, intelligent man, a true West Texan who worked extremely hard, but played hard as well. He was a passionate loving man who adored his family, his friends, and his Lord. During World War II, he spent eleven horrific months on an island in the South Pacific, dodging the enemy and scrounging for food and water. Of the eight crewmen whose plane was shot down, only three came home. When asked how he survived his hardships, he would emphatically state, “I had faith that I would be rescued.” He always knew God was with him, and he “carried” his bible in his heart. When he returned home, he spoke at colleges and churches in the Abilene area and testified that he was so thankful that he had been blessed by a Christian upbringing. Because he could quote chapter and verse through his life, I know while on that island he remembered our Psalm 121, “... My help comes from the Lord...The Lord shall preserve you from all evil; it is He who shall keep you safe….” Daddy’s favorite verse, which I heard him quote often through the years, is from our gospel reading John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have everlasting life.” We all know and love this, but sometimes we forget verse 17, “Indeed God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him.” Daddy was not condemned to that island by God but instead was saved through his faith. His faith filled him with the strength and hope to persevere when others gave up. At this time of year, we await Easter, that most glorious of days, filled with beautiful flowers, music, and children looking like angels. But before Easter, we must suffer through Lent with the sadder songs, no alleluias, and the giving up of our favorite foods, drinks, or activities. But is this really suffering? No! We celebrate Lent as a reminder of our Saviour’s agony of his final days before his suffering on the cross- a day He knew was coming. Thankfully, my father did not know forty days before his mission that his plane would be shot down. Likewise, we have no idea when a tragedy will “shoot us down” so we must prepare by trusting God and having faith that whatever happens, He is with us. As God made his promise to Abraham for a great nation and blessings to those who praise his name, we remember that we are his descendants by faith and “The Lord shall watch over your going out and your coming in, from this time forevermore.”
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March 13
Mary Elizabeth Schleier Jeremiah 1:11-19 | Psalm 64, 65 | Romans 1:1-15 | John 4:27-42
There is a striking contrast between the two psalms chosen for today. Psalm 64 opens with, “Hear my voice, O God, in my complaint.” Psalm 65 begins with, “Praise is due to you, O God, in Zion.” My study Bible puts Psalm 64 in the prayer for help, or “lament” category, the largest category of the Psalms. It occurred to me that this reflects human nature, both then and now. I must admit that most of my prayers are in the “lament” group, are asking God to hear my complaint or at least to help me with some problem. Psalm 65, called a hymn of praise, continues with, “O you who answer prayer! To you all flesh shall come. When deeds of iniquity overwhelm us, you forgive our transgressions. Happy are those whom you choose and bring near to live in your courts… By awesome deeds you answer us with deliverance, O God of our salvation; you are the hope of all the ends of the earth…” This psalm is a beautiful description of the immense love God has for us, how He continually cares for us and calls us to Him. And what do I do in response to that care and that calling? I largely ignore God day to day, unless I have a “lament.” I generally don’t go around doing terrible things, but I often go around not really thinking about the God who made me and loves me so much, a sin I put in the “left undone” category. I fail to take the time for a hymn or even a few lines of praise or thanksgiving, or even to notice God’s presence. When I had cancer nineteen years ago, with two young children, that was an intense time—of fear, and of faith. I prayed a lot. I would wake in the night, and say, “Lord, please have mercy on me, a sinner!” My treasured Saint Michael friends prayed as well. I felt under siege, but also lifted and sustained by prayer. For the first few years after this scary experience, I was good at prayers of thanksgiving, but as time passed and my life returned to “normal,” which was a real blessing, I went back to my old habits and didn’t thank God for every day. Last year Doug Travis wrote, “But what if you used Lent, not as a season to give up something, but as a season to take on something – a new practice which lends itself to spiritual renewal and rebirth, a practice you can continue after Easter as part of a daily regimen of seeking to improve your conscious contact with God?” More “conscious contact” is what I need, and contact in the “thank you” category as well as the “please” category, hymns of praise as well as laments. Thank you, Doug, for this suggestion; may I take it to heart this year.
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March 14
Chris Wiley
Jeremiah 2:1-13 | Psalm 68:1-20(21-23)24-36 | Romans 1:16-25 | John 4:43-54 Love, compassion, charity, hope – these properties are widely regarded to be central to our Christian mission. The triumph of the Resurrection and God’s gift of grace invigorate Christ’s followers to walk in His ways and expand His flock. However, we are two weeks into Lent, our annual season of penance, introspection, and preparation for the glory of the Great Fifty Days. The Old Testament selection paired with the portion of Paul’s Letter to the Romans combine to present us with past examples of the consequences for those who chose to turn their backs on God. The descriptions of their tribulations are summarized by the prophet and the former persecutor of Christ’s followers. Maybe sparing us the details is merciful, but the central illustration is clear: God’s shield and protection do not extend to those who defy Him. More bluntly, God can and has punished those who put other beings or idols in front of God in their lives. The Gospels expound upon John the Baptist’s reluctant immersion of the Son of God in the waters of the Jordan. John was fearless in his condemnation of the Roman and Jewish rulers, but when Jesus walked up to the river banks, his “preparer” tried to evade his destiny. Even a servant as committed as John was to alerting and ministering to his brethren, Jew and Gentile, he cowered at a decisive moment. God had seen to sustain John in the wilderness and chosen Mary to bring His only son down to earth. John’s fate is tragic, but his sacrifice at the hands of civil authorities foreshadows Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. Jesus, after baptism, ventured alone into the wilderness where Satan seized upon his first and best chance to corrupt the Son of God. The narratives of earthly power and dominance offered to Jesus align with the empty promises dangled before the Jews and Romans in the selected readings. So with the examples of John the Baptist and Christ Jesus, how do I reflect upon Jeremiah’s and Paul’s admonitions? Jeremiah’s broad accounting of Israel’s defiance is stark as if the severity of the separation from God cannot be understated. The only explanation of Israel’s fate can be that God’s Chosen chose to defy Him. The Lord is sorely disappointed with his flock, but he stops short of eternal condemnation. The suffering imposed is not regretted – it feels earned, but a condition from which recovery is almost ordained. Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus cannot be missed in his proclamation that righteous persons shall live (meaning prosper) by their faith. Our faith and our denomination are wrestling with many of the same challenges described in the first chapter of Romans. I struggle to follow the adage that one learns with mouth closed and ears open. I pray that my eyes, ears, and heart never close to God’s will. Grace is God’s universal gift, but it is up to us to authentically welcome it and wield it faithfully.
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March 15
Charlie Stobaugh
Jeremiah 3:6-18 | Psalm 119:73-96 | Romans 1:28-2:11 | John 5:1-18 From time to time we all engage to some degree in thoughts and activities that Paul states in Romans 1: 29-31 are unfit and “should not be done.” His list is thorough, comprehensive, allinclusive and is one that would be difficult for any of us to declare exemption. The guilt, shame, fear, and sadness that arise as a result of engagement in these vices lead to a deepening of our spiritual unease and bankruptcy, conditions that infect us as well as those around us. Many of us find it very easy to find these faults in others. We seem adept at noticing when our fellow earthly travelers have fallen into disgrace or have otherwise done something against the moral or ethical values we hold dear. Pointing the finger elsewhere and judging others accomplishes a very important thing. It keeps us from noticing the proverbial three fingers that are pointing back at us. It takes a great deal of courage and self-honesty to look at our own transgressions. “Humility, humility, humility, and humility,” according to Bernard of Clairvaux are the four most important cardinal virtues. The important spiritual axiom of humility leads us to make ourselves vulnerable to our own scrutiny and introspection. We are led to focus on our own things that “should not be done.” If we are painstaking about this phase of our development we are then less likely to judge others for the very same things we ourselves have been guilty of engaging in at times. With humility on board and thus our ability to look at our own transgressions, we absolutely put ourselves in a position to accept others, flaws and all. This will automatically lead us to another important Christian value, that of forgiveness. Forgiving ourselves first and others ultimately frees us to become the people God meant us to be and so earnestly wants us to be - that of our authentic selves with the ability to see honor and peace everywhere. And as Paul says, “God shows no partiality” (Rom 2:11) and Pope Francis asks, “Who am I to judge?”
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March 16
Caroline Marak
Jeremiah 4:9-10, 19-28 | Psalm 74 | Romans 2:12-24 | John 5:19-29 The turbulence of life. Faith. God. These three things, if not intertwined, can lead us into dark places that strip confidence, courage, belief and spirit from one’s heart. This is when the war of Satan enters our minds – self-doubt, fear, and lack of trust take hold crippling our interactions with others. Happening at some point in everyone’s life, if not careful a person can stay stuck in their so-called rut for some time – SO NOT the place to be! As the people in Jeremiah and Psalm 74 cried out to God about the damage that the enemy had done within the sanctuary of Mt. Zion, so does the voice of the Holy Spirit cry out in us when we are worn down. It picks us up and helps us to revisit the faith and confidence that we have in our skills and abilities to make a difference in this world – to be Christ to everyone we meet and face the world with unbridled confidence. Once we have fully and completely placed our trust in God, walking with him in faith without sight, have we won. This is the sweet spot – this is the euphoric high. When people from all walks of life can feel God’s love radiating by our sheer presence, HE is present in you and everyone you meet! Pray to God in your moments of weakness and He will hear you. Pray to Him when your negative self-doubt takes hold and He will fill you with confidence. Pray to God when you find yourself wallowing in fear and He will calm your heart healing it with peace. Pray to Him – it’s a powerful thing!
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March 17
Lisa Flores Musser Jeremiah 5:1-9 | Psalm 73 | Romans 2:25-3:18 | John 5:30-47
“I can do nothing on my own.” That is a phrase that would have never passed through my lips until a few years ago. As a confident, strong young woman, I was always told I can do anything I put my mind to and was encouraged to be my best advocate. I saw the sacrifice and strength my mom expressed daily as a single mother and that to me was an example of how I could navigate through life. I prided myself on the fact that I could do it all – all by myself. I didn’t need anyone else to help me. Boy was I wrong! Yes, I was able to do many things on my own. It is what one does when they are single. You sometimes have no choice in the matter. But for me, it was a pride/ego thing that often got in the way. I felt that needing help or asking for help was a sign of weakness. I thought maybe someone might think that I was “less than” for needing help. This physical characteristic was also a spiritual one. Seventeen years ago, while in the discernment process, I was asked, “Who do you first go to when you are in need?” My immediate answer was, “My mom.” It was the truth. I always went to my mom when I was in need. I think that is what lots of us do. Our moms and/or our dads are the person that helps us out when we mess up, get in trouble, or just need someone to be there for us. Knowing what I know now, I think they were probably looking for my answer to involve God or maybe even Jesus. But as a 25-year-old, that wasn’t where my head was. Yes, I knew that God was always with me and that my faith very much relied on that relationship, but for me, it wasn’t my first line of defense. Fast forward all these many years and I can see the progress in both the physical and spiritual characteristic, and yet there is still, and probably always will be, more work to be done. The statement, “I can do nothing on my own,” is actually a blessing that rolls from my lips these days. I am thankful each and every day to not be in this life alone. My family, my ministry, my everything would lack so much if I didn’t allow God and the countless others to be a part of it – the good and the bad. My prayer for each of us today is that we open our hearts to live into Jesus’ words – I can do nothing on my own – and then wait to see how God will work in our lives.
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March 18
Susan Kalen Jeremiah 5:20-31 | Psalm 23, 27 | Romans 3:19-31 | John 7:1-13
Growing up I had the opportunity to visit many churches on my journey toward knowing God. I remember praying as a little girl and somehow knowing that Jesus was listening. I had confidence in being God’s child. My family did not observe Lent, but I had many friends whose families did. What I remember was everyone talking about giving up something… bread, dessert, wine, television. But I really didn’t understand why. Jeremiah is delivering a message to God’s people asking what they will do when the end comes. The passage finds them with rebellious hearts, forgetting whose they are and who God is…the creator and sustainer of life. There is evidence of him all around them in creation, a daily reminder of His awesome power. Yet, his people have turned each to his own way. They are not caring for the needy, but taking advantage of their positions to gather more and more for themselves. The prophets are prophesying falsely and the priests rule as the prophets direct. So, there is no one standing up for the truth, no one remembering their heritage as God’s chosen ones. No one remembering their Exodus from Egypt, nor their laws and the command to worship the one true God. Entitlement, forgetfulness and idol worship are not new phenomena but have been around for ages and ages. King David trusted the Lord and was confident of His love. He spoke of the LORD being his light and salvation and the stronghold of his life. He had learned through heartaches and trials, that he could trust and depend on the LORD and not be afraid. David was honest before God, pouring out his heart and longings. He longed to live in the house of the LORD all the days of his life. Was he perfect? Did he obey all of God’s laws? No! So how could he live in the house of the LORD all the days of his life? God had promised. God knew David’s heart and God had a plan. God, our creator, knew that we would not be able to obey the Law perfectly, so He sent His only Son to earth to live a perfect life in our stead. He offers us Christ’s righteous life of perfect obedience so that we may dwell eternally with Him. Are we entitled? Do we deserve it? No, but because of God’s love for us, He gave His only Son to die on the cross in our place, satisfying God’s wrath and paying the penalty for sin. What do we have to do to earn it? We are to accept His gift by grace through faith, believing that Jesus, God’s son, died on the cross for our sins, past, present, and future. At the moment we believe He comes to live within our hearts by the power of the Holy Spirit. So, He is living and present with each of His own, just as He promised…loving, protecting, comforting, teaching, guiding and leading us all the days of our lives. In gratitude for His love, mercy, and grace, we seek to live each day in a manner worthy of the gift we have received. When we fail, we confess that to Him, accept His forgiveness and steadfast love; resting in the knowledge that He is faithful even when we are not. Want to give something up for Lent? Why not an hour of your time daily to spend with God, reading his Word, meditating on it and listening to Him speak to you in that still small voice. He is present with you, ready to reveal more and more of Himself to you as you seek His face. As you behold His glory and spend time alone with Him, your cup will overflow with His love spilling into the lives of those He puts in your path. Behold and reflect His glory and share His great love with others! 23
March 19
Third Sunday of Lent
Lowell Duncan Exodus 17-1-7 | Psalm 95 | Romans 5:1-11 | John 4:5-42
After reading today’s scriptures, these words come to mind; Leader, Tenacity, Message. Leader: It took a strong leader, Moses, to march the people of Israel out of Egypt, but maybe an even stronger leader to endure his people’s rage when things weren’t going right. “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” As a wise man once said, “We spend half of our time crying for leaders and the other half nailing them to the cross.” Tenacity: How many projects and programs do you know that have started with great promise, support, and enthusiasm? Then after the “new” has worn off, struggle, flounder, and eventually disappear. It takes tenacity, stick-to-itiveness, belief, perseverance to make something worthwhile and successful over the long-haul. As St. Paul told the Romans, “…suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope doesn’t disappoint us…” Message: We have heard over and over during this season’s political debates and elections the importance of “Staying on Message.” Jesus wasn’t lured into an argument over the rights of the Samaritans, the morals of the woman at the well, whether his teachings were only for the Jews, whether he should spend a couple of days in the Samaritan town. He stayed on message, “… those who drink of the water I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” And it worked: “[The Samaritans] said to the woman, ‘It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard him for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the World’”. Jesus is our leader, willing to endure our second-guessing the direction he wants us to go, even nailing him on a cross. And, even though we wander in our own wilderness making him the scapegoat for our foibles, his tenacity never fails. He is always with us, never gives up on us, always loves us. And, his message never varies, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” Let us join with the psalmist: “O come let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving…”
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March 20
Elizabeth Lang Jeremiah 7:1-15 | Psalm 77, 79 | Romans 4:1-12 | John 7:14-36
In 1981 I had a vision of God. There was a beautifully wrapped present out of which God erupted in a thunderous explosion of gorgeous, flashing, terrible fireworks. Not a cozy image. God cannot be enclosed in a pretty religious box. Far more accurate is the image in Psalm 77, which portrays God’s presence in a severe thunderstorm. The word of the Lord came to Jeremiah. Jeremiah pronounced scathing judgment on the people of Jerusalem. These people were certain that the presence of the Lord in the holy temple would secure their safety. Meanwhile, outside of the temple, they felt free to exploit the vulnerable and to dedicate their lives to serving the false gods of prosperity and success. The people’s incantation, “This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord,” was a delusion. It testified to religious observances but divorced God’s will from business and secular life. These deceived people thought that they could confine God within sacred space and then trust in God’s power to save them. Paul also argues against a boxed in God. To people who worshiped a God carefully preserved in religious and ethnic heritage, Paul proclaimed that in Christ, God reconciles all -- Gentile as well as Jew. God’s faithfulness and grace continue to shatter barriers between nationalities, races, and religions. Even today, God’s love cannot be fenced in by border or wall. Likewise, Jesus taught that legal or religious restrictions that prevented compassion were not God’s teaching or will. Secure in following the One who sent him, Jesus declared that it made no sense to claim to follow the will of God by observing the ritual of circumcision on the Sabbath while neglecting to heal a man’s entire body because that day was holy. God is not limited by pitiless obsession with national or religious identity. Holy God, break through the walls constructed by our fear and self-absorption and break open our hearts to honor your Presence and follow Your will. Amen
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March 21
Oliver Butler
Jeremiah 7:21-34 | Psalm 78:40-72 | Romans 4:13-25 | John 7:37-52 As we set out on our summer vacations – my family of four in a cramped Mazda RX-2 with no air conditioner in the late 1970’s - my father would tell my brother and me to always think of these adventures as experiences we “get” to be a part of, but not that we “have” to be a part of. They are a privilege granted, rather than a burden imposed. His words rang true until about an hour into the trip, as we began our “are we there yet” refrain from the back seat. We are about halfway through our own trip together - our Lenten journey is in full swing, and it is March 21st. That means it is a day shy of three weeks since we kicked off this liturgical season by recognizing our sin, brokenness, and need for Jesus. We admitted our own spiritual house needed some attention – a type of spiritual spring cleaning of all the dust that naturally builds up in the places of our heart we don’t often tend to. The words spoken during the imposition of ashes on our head cut to the heart of our finitude as the creation of the infinite Creator: “From dust you have come. To dust you shall return…” We walked around that day with a smeared ashy cross upon our brow that proclaimed this recognition and relationship to the world around us. On no other day during the year do Christians proclaim so boldly to the world that it is the cross of Christ that has saved us and at which we kneel. We walk around all day, reminded of our sin, our need, God’s love, and forgiveness, and the redemption we find through the cross of Jesus. As the ash flakes off, or when we stumble upon our reflection in a window or mirror, or if someone comments on our forehead, we are reminded of our condition and God’s saving love. It is a powerful day, and propels us into Lent, and we begin preparing our hearts for Holy Week, Calvary and the tomb. Yet, here we are, in the middle of our journey without ashes on our head - no physical moment by moment reminder of our God, his Son, or our hope. And, the Psalmist reminds us how easy it is to forget God’s care for us and place in our lives: “…Again and again they put God to the test; they vexed the Holy One of Israel. They did not remember his power – the day he redeemed them from the oppressor” (Ps. 78:41-42). We, like Israel, have the natural tendency to forget what is not directly in front of us. The mountain top high fades once we return to the normal grind at sea level. We forget the vast and endless view, the revitalizing mountain air, and the majesty of God’s palpable presence, as it is replaced by life’s busyness and challenges. Our challenge is to remember before we forget. To allow that Ash Wednesday cross to be smeared – not on the outside for the world to see once a year, but smeared over and over on the interiors of our hearts for us to be shaped by. In other words, it is a question of how we are to stay connected to the Lord who has called us to follow Him. It is a question of focus and daily renewal. To decide to let the Living Water flow through our spiritual veins, daily. Not because we have to. But, because we get to.
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March 22
Gary Lawrence Jeremiah 8:18-9:6 | Psalm 81, 82 | Romans 5:1-11 | John 8:12-20
The sharp pre-dawn wind stung my face as I hurried through the swirling snow of a deep December morning. I was tired and lonely, anxious to return home to my family for Christmas. But I had one final appointment to keep—a breakfast meeting with Samuel Pisar, respected attorney, survivor of the concentration camps at Majdanek, Auschwitz, and Dachau, and author of the chilling autobiography Of Blood and Hope. In his lovely old house near the Bois de Boulogne (where Claude Debussy once lived), Sam and I chatted for a while about the business that had brought us together. But then, as we sipped warm coffee beside a comforting fire, dim morning light seeping through dense clouds, our thoughts and our conversation turned in a different and most unexpected direction. “When I watch the snow fall like this, I think of my time as a boy in the camps. Those were difficult days…very difficult days,” he said softly, gazing at the wintry landscape beyond the frosted window panes. “Would it surprise you, Gary, if I told you that those memories no longer bring me pain? Those places and the suffering I endured there, without them, I would never have become who God meant me to be.” Lately, I have reflected much on human suffering. Many of my loved ones are gone now. Others are ravaged by age and infirmity, no longer able to care for themselves, soon not even to know my name. My own body, succumbing to the relentless march of time, is slowly fading. Even my beloved Wheaten terrier is denied his dignity and mobility in the twilight of his life. Faced with these disturbing realities (and so many others that issue from every corner of this troubled globe), I confess that at first I struggled to write a Lenten meditation on St. Paul’s message to the early Christians in Rome that “we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” Then I remembered my breakfast with Sam. And so, as I suspect Shelly intended when she asked me to write this meditation, I reflected more deeply on the philosophy of this long-ago former Pharisee. In time, I came to appreciate the poetry in his words. And in the end, I realized how uniquely suited they are to the poignant season of Lent, calling as they do for a more mature contemplation of the meaning of human suffering, the perseverance it demands, and God’s hand in it all. Suffering is a fact of life. Perseverance is our only option. Thus, the willingness to recognize suffering as a most peculiar jewel, and to accept graciously the transformations in us that it works, is a rare and precious human virtue. In this season of Lent, therefore, let us find the wisdom and strength to bear our sufferings and— as my friend who passed the days of his youth in places too awful to imagine—to transform them into peace and liberation, confident that suffering and perseverance are part of God’s plan for us all.
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March 23 I hate to admit it, but I am a news junkie. Before my first cup of tea in the morning, and much to the chagrin of my family, I click on theSkimm (a clever, sometimes irreverent abbreviation of the day’s news) to catch up on the latest stories. It arrives in my email inbox Monday through Friday. I enjoy it so much, that I find myself missing it on weekends and Holidays. So last December 30th, I was preparing to relish the day’s news since I knew there would be an upcoming dry spell for the New Year’s Holiday. When I opened theSkimm that morning, I found the “Year in Review”, much like many news organizations publish, and admittedly, I usually enjoy the simple condensed review of the year’s “big stories”. However, on this day before the last day of 2016, the bulleted list of stories that I was scanning increased my anxiety exponentially as I read. The review wasn’t in chronological order. It started with the recent election, of course, and then addressed Russian overreach, Brexit, hacking, angry clowns, and Samsung phones imploding. From there it moved to terrorism (Nice, Berlin, Brussels, Istanbul, and Orlando) followed by ISIS, Aleppo, Zika, Flint’s water supply, the Dakota Access pipeline, Epi-Pen price hike, violence by and against police, the Affordable Care Act (or “Obamacare”, depending on which side you fall), and Ryan Lochte’s trouble at the Olympics. But it wasn’t all bad… there was mention of Simone Biles’ and Michael Phelps’ gold medals too, but the overwhelming news of the last year was troubling. TheSkimm finished by reporting on all those who had died… Prince, David Bowie, George Michael, Nancy Reagan, Gwen Ifill, John Glenn, Antonin Scalia, and Debbie Reynolds, to name a few. Even Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) had died. No matter who you are, or what your beliefs, there was something about 2016 that left a hole in the hearts of all of us. I can’t recall talking to anyone who was reluctant to see 2016 in the yearbooks. The volume and frequency of “bad news” left me troubled, anxious, and devoid of much hope. The last thing I wanted to be doing was writing a meditation for Lent. But when I read about the renewal of God’s mercy to his people when they were suffering distress in today’s lesson, my outlook began to change. In times that are challenging, the Psalmist tells us that we need to rely on our faith to see us through. We need peace, and we need restoring, and Psalm 85 provides a much needed soothing balm. Psalm 85 is a communal prayer, a prayer shared by all members of the community. It was written for the Director of Music, and the Sons of Korah, the Levitical choir, made up of descendants of Korah, appointed by David, to serve in the temple liturgy. As Episcopalians, we relate to liturgy. We certainly relate to communal prayer; we say the “Prayers of the People” at eight different services throughout the weekend, and at least once a day during the week. The first few verses of Psalm 85 extol the mercy that God has granted to his people. “You showed favor, You restored, You forgave, and You set aside”. Isn’t this a nice way to begin a prayer, by acknowledging what God has done for us? I find it comforting, and reassuring. I want to rest in this feeling. 28
Whitney Grogan Jeremiah 10:11-24 | Psalm 85, 86 | Romans 5:12-21 | John 8:21-32 But too soon, I arrive at the next set of verses in Psalm 85 that asks questions we have all felt at one time or another. “Will you be angry, will you prolong, will you not revive?” In reading these words, I can feel the unrest of the people, and can imagine them wringing their hands, and lamenting their trouble to anyone who will listen. This language is heavy. It’s exhausting. I want to put down my Bible and quit reading. It’s the same dark and foreboding feeling I had on December 30th as I was reading the dark and foreboding events of 2016 in theSkimm. Like we, these people were seeking answers from the Lord for their distress. I kept reading and was refreshed when I arrived at the second half of the Psalm. “I will listen to what God the Lord will say; he promises peace to his people” … A wave of relief passes through me... “peace to his people”. Peace. In the final passages of Psalm 85, God’s mercies to his people spring from his covenant of love, to which he remains true. “Love and faithfulness meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other. Faithfulness springs forth from the earth, and righteousness looks down from heaven. The Lord will indeed give what is good”. These expressions of God’s favor toward his people offer a beautiful image of God’s gracious dealings with his covenant people. After the events of 2016, I am thankful for the reassuring words of Psalm 85. I invite you to let them wash over you, and refresh you, trusting in God, and his promise of peace to all of us.
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March 24 “Just Visiting this Planet” were the words on the button that my Mother handed me. I was having a difficult moment as a painfully shy teenager in a high school where I felt I didn’t quite fit in. I kept it in my locker, as she suggested, as our secret reminder that while I was in this world, I wasn’t of this world. That button accompanied me through high school, through college, and it has sat on the desk of every office that I’ve ever occupied. Another gift that my mother gave me was her appreciation of the Psalms as a place to go when things get tough. To her, the Psalms were proof that God could handle anything we could dish out- our fears and our anger, as well as our joy, our praise, and our gratitude. I came to think of the Psalmist as a friend and a confidant. I still remind myself that I’m just visiting this planet, and as a meditation teacher and practitioner, I have learned that a meditation practice can offer tools to help us handle this foreign place. And, often when I meditate, I reach for one of the trusty Psalms to spend some time with. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” From Psalm 91 NIV. I don’t know about you, but this simple, and to me, very attractive prospect is not easy. It takes practice, trust and perhaps even courage. In my frenetic life, the very idea that I can “dwell” and “rest” in a “shadow” can be, in and of itself, a very tall order. Indeed, dwelling in the world, there is constant noise and there are constant demands. The fast pace and the never ending expectations of life and the feeling of never being finished, never being good enough, never knowing what is waiting around the bend, bring fear and anxiety. The World says, ‘hurry up’, and ‘run’ and ‘do this’, ‘do that’, ‘there’s no time to waste’. And, turning on the news- that in and of itself can be an invitation to a feeling that all is surely lost. But God says, “Be Still and Know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10) I have found that the trick here is that the “knowing” really does require the “being still” part. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” From Psalm 91 NIV. Lent is a perfect time to set aside a time and a place to rest in the shadow of the Almighty. If you haven’t practiced stillness like this before, that is ok. I hope you will give it a try and know that it may feel funny at first, and that’s ok. Here is the guided meditation that is on the audio link: bit.ly/stillnessbreath Find a quiet, place to sit for a few minutes. Make sure you’re comfortable, sitting upright with your back resting against a supportive chair, your feet on the floor and your hands in your lap. Bring your shoulders– up toward your ears and then gently roll them back, as your shoulder blades move down. Adjust yourself until you are comfortable.
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Jolie Derr Jeremiah 11:1-8, 14-20 | Psalm 91, 92 | Romans 6:1-11 | John 8:33-47 Let us pray: O Almighty God, who pourest out on all who desire it, the spirit of grace and of supplication; Deliver us, when we draw nigh to thee, from coldness of heart and wanderings of mind, that with steadfast thoughts and kindled affections, we may worship thee in spirit and in truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. Close your eyes. Notice your breath- don’t try to shape it, but notice the gentle coolness of the breath as it enters your nostrils and how as you exhale, the air is warm as it exits your nostrils. As you sit, still and comfortable, notice the rhythm of the cool inhale and the warm exhale. Now ponder these words: “I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust”. Now close your eyes. Repeat those words as you breathe in slowly and steadily: “He is my refuge and my fortress” As you breathe out slowly and steadily: “my God, in whom I trust”. As you breathe in: He is my refuge, (breath out) “my God, in whom I trust.” Let’s do this several times, calmly and steadily, noticing the rhythm of your breath, feeling safe, peaceful and comfortable, listening to the promise of these words. Now, as you sit still and steady, imagine being tucked in, safe, warm and protected as you repeat the words: “He will cover you with His feathers and under His wings, you will find refuge.” As you breathe in, feel as if you are being nestled in safety. Imagine that you are safely tucked inside of the warm and soft feathers of His great, protective wings. As you breathe out, “He will cover you with His feathers and under His wings, you will find refuge.” As you sit still, breathing slowly and steadily in and out, actually feel the presence of these protective wings. “…For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands…” “Now, envision throngs of Angels around your, protecting you and sheltering you and lifting you up. Let go of the weight of the world and, at least for this moment, dwell in the shelter of the Most High and rest in the shadow of the Almighty. Offer your love; ask for deliverance. Call on Him in the quiet stillness of your heart, let Him hear you and know that he will deliver you and be with you in trouble. Calmly and steadily, feeling safe, and comfortable, listening to the promise of these words, breathe in and out. “I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust”. Now close your eyes. Repeat those words as you breathe in slowly and steadily: “He is my refuge and my fortress” As you breathe out slowly and steadily: “my God, in whom I trust”. As you breathe in: He is my refuge, (breath out) “my God, in whom I trust.” Let’s do this several times, calmly and steadily, noticing the rhythm of your breath, feeling safe, peaceful and comfortable, listening to the promise of these words. Lower your chin feeling safe, calm and at peace. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Amen. Open your eyes.
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March 25
Irwin Sentilles Jeremiah 13:1-11 | Psalm 136 | Romans 6:12-23 | John 8:47-59
I do hope it is right, Psalm 136. A hymn of thanksgiving, it says, 26 times no less, that the ultimate reality we call God is good, “for his steadfast love endures forever.” The repetition helps, at least in my case. My mother used to tell me that, as a child, I would ask the same question over and over again, until I would get the answer into my head. My head is full of thinking usually, though occasionally silenced with forgetting. It still needs the repetition — because it is hard for me to trust the psalmist’s claim. The Psalm is not about bald assertion. It claims to have a basis in fact for what it says, for the gratitude it exhibits. The psalmist sees God’s love in the exodus that made a people, in the protection of the people in the wilderness and in the people’s entry into a land promised. Nor is the psalmist’s claim limited to Israel. The psalmist sees God’s love in all creation and as the sustainer of all humanity — indeed, as assured as a faithful promise. But the readings accompanying the Psalm also reveal another side of humanity, perhaps where I dwell. The prophet Jeremiah sees people who will not listen, who fail to see that, though gratuitously given, love has purpose, and freedom has purpose. As Paul says, we are set free to be instruments of God — if God is truly love, then we are called to be God’s love in the world. John’s good news is that the ultimate reality of love as seen in Jesus is not only for us but for others. True human life, authentic existence, is to be found in the work of loving others. I can sometimes talk myself into resonating with the psalmist’s view of reality. Then I look around. I see “us first” folks and “too bad for you, but I got mine” folks. And turning inward, I ask myself: What am I doing to make a difference with the wonderful freedom I have? To what extent am I, in fact, an instrument of love in the world? Just understanding the psalmist’s claims, I must admit, cannot simply be enough. But I kept reciting the phrase, “for his steadfast love endures forever.” Maybe if I say it enough, as my mother observed, its truth will become part of me, and I will know what to do — though my hope of doing so is growing fainter. I wish I could be like the English poet who, in his own lament, found comfort from his intimation of the true nature of things: “There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs — Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breath and with ah! bright wings.”
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March 26
Fourth Sunday of Lent
Stephanie Pearson
1 Samuel 16:1-13 | Psalm 23 | Ephesians 5:8-14 | John 9:1-41 As Christians, we want to walk in God’s light. We want to do our best to please Him and live and serve according to His will. And we need His ongoing help to do so. In this very moment, I am distraught by what is happening in my country. I feel it is the most divided it has been in my life. So many people are angry. Many are trying to convince me to lean to one side or the other and some are even upset with me when I don’t take sides. There are so many issues, so many problems, and none of them are uncomplicated. The things I see in the news and posted online and the vitriol spewing from the mouths of people as they speak – some of whom I don’t know, others who I care for deeply - is unsettling. My ears hurt. My eyes hurt. My heart hurts. I worry about my children’s future and my grandchildren’s (someday) future. And I am always looking for God in all of the turmoil. Growing up a military brat (Marines), I have always considered myself a strong patriot. I often heard the words, “Semper Fi” (Fidelis), meaning “always faithful” and I also heard “God first, then Country” (then Corps, which I will not address as my dad was the marine, not me ). I got it. I understood. I love God – check. I love my country – check. I love my family – check. I will be faithful to all. I never really put a lot of thought into all of this. Today, all of this means so much more to me than ever. When I think “God first”, our Baptismal Covenant first comes to mind. I‘ve repeated it so many times. I appreciate the opportunity to renew my own promises while I get to witness someone making new promises. The last two questions of the covenant have been lingering in my head the last few weeks – “Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?” In ALL PERSONS. “Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and the respect the dignity of every human being?” Among ALL PEOPLE. EVERY HUMAN BEING. I think, are we all really doing this? Am I doing this? So many are suffering… My answer to both of these questions is, of course, “I will, with God’s help.” God, I need your help. Help me to carry out my Baptismal Covenant while making choices that help keep my family, my loved ones, my community, and my country safe. Please show us all how we might be able to help and protect and understand those, near and far, who need protection and understanding, despite their differences or nationality. Please grant us the creativity, clarity, and guidance that we need to do right by ALL of Your children and of course, by You. God, I pray that our country continues to be an active source of light to the world. It is unimaginable that right now some might be looking at our country as a place of darkness. It is heart-wrenching. Please help us on all levels - church, community, nationally, and everywhere, to work together and find peaceable solutions that please You. Help us to live in Your light so that we may be a light to others, so that others can see God through us. Help us to be faithful to You. Instead of thinking God first, then Country, I want start thinking more profoundly that my Baptism must precede my Patriotism. Then, hopefully, discerning what is right and good will be a little easier. I really do want to help strive for justice and peace for all and respect the dignity of every human being. Maybe it’s time for us all to be reminded of the promises we have made. 33
March 27
Bob Penn
Jeremiah 16:10-21 | Psalm 89:19-52 | Romans 7:1-12 | John 6:1-15 I hold the feeding of the 5,000 very dear as bringing me into the presence of Christ. It’s a familiar tale, being the only one of Jesus’s miracles to be chronicled by all 4 of the Gospel writers. Each story has its own nuance, and I suggest that you read the other three as part of your devotion for today (Mark 6: 32-44; Matthew 14: 13-21; Luke 9: 10-17). It’s easy to dismiss the physical feeding itself, and people have done so through the centuries. But, like all of Christ’s miracles, if we focus on the phenomenology and ask how it possibly happened, we cheapen the message that God is revealing. The question is always not “Did it happen?” but rather “Why did it happen and why is it told this way?”. I am moved by the interchange between Jesus and the disciples; that dialog and my insights from it across 2000 years are the real miracles. And John’s telling of the story has a twist. In the 3 synoptic Gospels, the disciples start the question of providing food for all the people who have trekked across the north side of the Sea of Galilee to hear and be with Christ. But in John’s reading for today, Jesus raises the issue, and John says he does so as a test of Philip for “he himself knew what he was going to do.” This test is not like a quiz; it’s rather determining whether Philip has developed strength of faith and insight into God’s ways. How often is Christ testing me when I am confronted with a challenge? I think often, actually. Christ wants me to understand him and his power in the world, yet I often doubt that things can be done. I need to remember, as the archangel Gabriel said to Mary, “For nothing will be impossible with God.” Philip, like me, focuses on the paucity of resources and whines about what is missing. In contrast, Andrew steps forward with an admittedly unlikely solution: a young boy with 2 fish and 5 loaves. How can I be like Andrew and not like Philip when the world deals me a situation that seems insurmountable? How can I remember in crisis to offer what resources I have at hand? How can I live consciously and believing that God consistently takes unlikely agents or materials to work His way in the world? That’s what Christ is showing us here. Christ knew what he was going to do. He was going to engage the disciples in true outreach, he was going to make order out of potential chaos, and most importantly, he was going to invoke God’s presence in prayer. When these things happened 2000 years ago, there was plenty for what was needed to the point of surplus. During Lent, I need to cultivate my belief that this happens again whenever God is truly part of the process. And then, more importantly, I need to act like I believe that truth.
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March 28
Hunter Ruffin Jeremiah 17:19-27 | Psalm 94, 95 | Romans 7:13-25 | John 6:16-27
From week to week, we go to the worship services at our parish; from week to week, we sing the hymns, read the lessons, pray the Eucharist, and offer our own prayers up to God as an individual and as a community. We walk into the doors of the church in order to be “fed” through our worship. We hope that the kernel of inspiration will be enough to sustain us over the next seven days until we can come back again. And while I do not doubt that worship certainly helps to feed us and to nourish us throughout our weeks as we strive to walk in the footsteps of Christ, I am not so sure that it is our desire to be fed that keeps us coming back to worship. Instead, I think that our spiritual hunger is what keeps us coming back - desiring more of that bread to fill our hunger at least for one more week. The hunger that dwells deep within us is the spark of God that is calling us into something much more profound than anything the world can offer to us. The hunger that we have for God’s wisdom, for God’s grace is the desire that dwells within each of us to know Christ even more fully, and the hunger that we have for knowledge of God’s grace made real in the person of Jesus is what urges to go out into the world to practice our faith in the expanses of everyday living. When we are able to practice that kind of faith and when we are able to remember that Christ approaches us in everyday moments, we are fed. Our worship experience, instead of being the source of our spiritual nourishment, is the source of our spiritual hunger. Our worship experience challenges us to take that hunger outside the walls of the church to make the love of Christ known to others in the ways that we conduct ourselves in the turbulent waves of the sea of mundanity. As we sit in the boat that is being tossed to and fro by the waves of mundanity, we can strive to receive Christ in the same way that the disciples did - with gladness. Suddenly, we might find, through our acceptance of the “food that endures for eternal life”, that the turbulent waves of mundanity are calmed, the love of Christ enters into our lives, and a new land, a new place is reached. We might find that by simply looking for Christ in the mundane that our love of the law of God is stronger than the temptations of the law of sin, and we are fed precisely because we started looking for Christ inside and outside the walls of our church.
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March 29
Jack Rubarth
Jeremiah 18:1-11 | Psalm 119:121-144 | Romans 8:1-11 | John 6:27-40 In the Gospel account of the feeding of the masses, John is not concerned with the statistics of how many loaves the disciples handed to Jesus to bless, nor how many baskets of bread and fish are collected once the crowd was temporarily satisfied. Rather, John focuses his attention on the promise of everlasting life, which God has promised and Jesus delivers. In the Gospel reading (John 6:27-40), Jesus says to the gathered people: “I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” They were puzzled, as we would be, and they said to him, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness. Moses gave them bread. What are you going to give us so that we may see it and believe you?” Jesus then says to the throng, “Very truly I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from Heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true Bread from heaven. For the Bread of God is that which comes down from Heaven and gives life to the world.” There are many people here in this country and around the world for whom hunger and thirst are not simply metaphors, but daily obstacles to overcome. As parishioners of Saint Michael and All Angels, we are fortunate that our nourishment needs are always met and yet we still find ourselves mired in our daily routines of caring for our children or furthering our careers. Jesus admonishes his followers not to seek food that perishes, but the food that endures for eternal life. He responds to their queries about the source of that food, which is his Father in heaven who provides. Jesus ultimately is the sign from heaven. It is the will of the Father that “all who see the Son may believe and may have eternal life.” While our bodies are satisfied, our souls remain malnourished. Take some time today from your busy schedule to reflect on the manifold blessings in your life. Seek the understanding to feed your hunger and quench the thirst that sustains our Faith. Christ was concerned for the proper balance of nutrition for the entire body. Jesus came that we may never need hunger or thirst again. He came as the Bread of Life. May the Grace of God fill you and provide you with the sustenance for your soul. Amen
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March 30
Mary Ann Webster Jeremiah 22:13-23 | Psalm 73 | Romans 8:12-27 | John 6:41-51
I remember a cartoon framed on my best friend’s dressing table that showed a little child going to ask an older woman, perhaps her grandmother, a question, “I’m adopted,” says the young girl. “Is that as good as being real?” The answer is, “Well, of course, it is, my dear! Our hearts were so full of love for you as we waited. We just could not wait for the day we would meet you. And what a day of joy and celebration that day was!” The little girl just loved how twinkly and happy the woman’s eyes were as she spoke about her. “Was there a party?” “Oh, my goodness, YES, there was a party that started in the morning and went well into the evening!” If parents and grandparents celebrate with deep joy the adoption of a child into the family, isn’t it a beautiful image as we see ourselves going beyond our earthly family to being adopted as children of God? As we read today in Romans 8:14-17 “For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.” In this season, we are moving toward seeing Jesus be glorified. The language of family helps me to see the degree of intimacy that we share as a family - heirs with Christ. To be the heir of someone sets you apart. Because we are members of God’s family, God desires for us all that we need. Acknowledging how much good we have either experienced from our own parents or the desire that we have to provide the very best for our children, we can better grasp why God is giving us still the living bread that is Christ’s own body. Abba, Father, thank you for desiring for us to be your adopted children. We believe we are precious in your sight and heirs to your eternal home. Knowing the incredible gift you extend to us touches us and leaves us humbly adoring you. AMEN
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March 31
Erica Bower
Jeremiah 23:1-8 | Psalm 107:1-32 | Romans 8:28-39 | John 6:52-59 As I was reflecting on today’s readings, I heard a song in the back of my head. One line repeating over and over again. A voice that I hear more often than not when I’m having a stressful day or when nothing seems to be working right. Faintly I hear, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” When I look back on the memories of this song, I hear my son’s sweet voice singing at the top of his little lungs. I hear his little sister doing her best to keep up with the lyrics, all along knowing that this is God speaking through their lips. “I am for you.” “The darkness will not overcome you.” Jeremiah 23:4 reads, “’I will place shepherds over them who will tend them, and they will no longer be afraid or terrified, nor will any be missing,’ declares the Lord.” When you are finding it hard to focus on what lies beyond or when you feel as though you cannot help but fail, know that God is with you. God is for you. God is in you. I’d like to share with you a verse or the song that I have been hearing during these readings. May you find comfort in these words. If God is for Us (Who can be Against Us) by DeGarmo & Key When you worry, when you feel like the world is caving in, He is stronger than our weakness, faithful to the end, Like the master taught us, there’s life beyond the cross, Even though we’re weary, our battle won’t be lost. If God is for us, who can be against us? No power on Earth can take his love away, If God is for us, who can be against us? We can live in victory today.
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April 1
Stewart Thomas Jeremiah 23:9-15 | Psalm 33 | Romans 9:1-18 | John 6:60-71
Something rare and unusual happens in today’s gospel reading: followers of Jesus are repulsed and driven away by what Jesus is saying. Wow! How many times can you remember when Jesus’ words push followers away? OK, the wealthy man who would not give up his possessions, but not many. Here, John describes Jesus traveling around Galilea with his disciples and followers. He is now in Capernaum, teaching in the synagogue. Jesus says he is the Son of God, the true bread sent from heaven. But the people do not understand, thinking he is being literal, not abstract. The people say, “Sir, always give us this bread.” Jesus replies: “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry.” But the people grumble: “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” Jesus replies: “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died, but whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” Many of Jesus’s disciples replied, “this is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?” And the passage says, “from this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.” Why? Why did they turn away? Why did they choose not to accept the bread offered from heaven? If they thought Jesus was advocating cannibalism, I get it. But were they really that dense, unable to see that Jesus was speaking figuratively, not literally? I suspect there are many reasons why some followers turned away from Jesus. They are probably the same reasons why I turn away from Jesus on a regular basis: too blind to see what Jesus is really saying; too afraid of the cost of discipleship; selfishness, greed, conceit. When Jesus asks the Disciples if they want to leave him as well, Peter replies: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.” I think we would do well to answer likewise.
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April 2
Fifth Sunday of Lent
Celise Stephenson Ezekiel 37:1-14 | Psalm 130 | Romans 8:6-11 | John 11:1-45
Let’s take a ride in a magic chariot. It’s a time machine from the future, on loan from the past. There is a message to be delivered today. The Watchman opens the door, and we climb in. Fasten your seatbelts, he says, it’s going to be a wild ride. We look down over hot land. The people have been driven from their city and held captive here. Their holy temple has been destroyed. They have no home, and their god has no dwelling place. Their hearts are broken, and our hearts break with theirs. We see a man, a priest, standing alone in a valley near a river, his hands raised out over the sands, trembling. He sees something we cannot see. Our hands tremble with his. He prophesies in the language of dreams, and his words carry across the river of time and burn our ears. We cannot bear this suffering. We turn to the Watchman, beg him to take us out of the depths and away from here. Pearls lie deep, he says, and he takes us on. We look into the eyes of a man in sorrow who strums a curved harp made of juniper. He sings softly, a low and mournful tune, a funeral dirge. He will wait forever for his lost love. We are lost with him, caught in the emptiness, plucked like strings waiting to be sounded through. The Watchman drives on. We look through an open window at a man bent over a desk. He dips a reed into a mixture of carbon and glue, and painstakingly forms characters on rough papyrus. He adds the finished sheet to a thick stack and starts another. He will write for a month or more to complete this letter. He has lived dangerously, this man, once as persecutor, then as man transformed. He had once been stoned and left for dead, and once imprisoned, so far. He is growing old now, and his bones ache, but he continues with his labor of love, writing sheet after sheet. Our bones ache with his. The Watchman drives on. Suddenly, we are plunged into total darkness, engulfed in eerie silence; terror creeps into our minds and roils over into madness. We move as one against the Watchman who has brought us to our death: we pin him to his seat, bind his wrists and cover his mouth. We stand gasping in the dank air, slow to realize that we do not know how to drive the chariot home. We are both captor and captive. We are dead men without hope. A voice comes at first faintly through the dark come out then shouts unbind him! We turn toward the voice of the rescuer, toward the light at the end of the tunnel. A dead man, in silhouette, wrapped in strips of cloth, walks unsteadily into the open day and falls into the arms of his loved ones. Some gathered outside his tomb shriek and wail; others are struck dumb. The Watchman drives on, through the deafening whorls of paradox. ** We apologized, profusely, of course, once the ride was over. The Watchman was quite nice about it, and didn’t seem to hold a grudge against any of us. We all shook hands, thanked him, clapped him on the back vigorously. As we exited the chariot, I stopped and turned. You mentioned a message, sir. Was it delivered? He stared at me so intently that I began to squirm. I blinked, and he and the chariot and the others were gone. I was alone in my own backyard, staring up at the sky full of stars, wondering what Ezekiel really saw in the valley. Was he a poet whose words were meant to lift his people or a man taken out of this world and into another? I wondered if I might one day dive deep enough to fetch a pearl despite my fear of drowning. I felt in my old dry bones a mysterious quickening, like a wild sort of ride, an unexpected riddle which required a response. Yes, Lord, these dead bones can come alive. Send more Watchmen. 40
April 3
John Gorman Jeremiah 24:1-10 | Psalm 35 | Romans 9:19-33 | John 9:1-17
In Psalm 35, David asks God to deliver him from his enemies and promises praise in return “Let ruin come upon them unawares…Then I will be joyful in the Lord.” Jesus approaches this differently in the prayer he teaches, suggesting that we, “forgive those who trespass against us,” and that we not be pulled by temptation into evil. Jesus asks us to act with grace, not ask for grace, then act – it does not suggest that we will forgive after we are forgiven, but because we forgive, we will be forgiven. At the end of the Epistle, we see that Gentiles, who had faith, obtain righteousness while the people of Israel, “pursued the law as the way of righteousness, have not attained their goal.” They relied on works, as if they could convince God and that by praising him they would obtain their goal as a reward. God sends a stone that causes Israel to stumble because they replaced their faith with man’s interpretation of God’s will. Again, a demonstration that relation with God is not on a quid pro quo basis, but rather faith that we will achieve because we believe. In John, Jesus heals a man who was born blind. It is important that we note he was born blind – he did not lose his sight and regain it, he never had sight. This is in many ways like the Gentiles in our reading from Romans, who were without the God of Israel – they had not “seen” God. The Pharisees (who by strict adherence to the laws of Israel believed themselves purer) saw the results of this indisputably amazing healing. Since the blind man would have been a burden to society and therefore well known, they should not have missed the miracle, but they doubted that Jesus was from God because he failed to keep the ritual of the Sabbath properly in the eyes of the Law. Jesus was the stone that they failed to see; they stumbled over their ritual and missed the miracle through lack of faith. I found it hard to forgive the woman who did not adhere to our laws, and hit me in her car while driving drunk, which resulted in an injury I have to accommodate every day. Physical injury is easy to empathize with, and the visible limp compels others to support me. Trusted members of my community violated my trust and acted in a purely political way to protect their self-interests, resulting in emotional pain similar to the physical pain of a spinal cord injury. The injury is less visible, attracting less support, and I again found it hard to do as Jesus asks and forgive. Both had broken a law, and there was an opportunity for me to use the legal system of our society to “let ruin come upon them,” but I am not sure that would make me joyful to see their pain. Mostly, I wanted to ensure they did not hurt another in the same way, but some part of me wanted to do this through the tools provided by our courts. Because I am human, I struggle to forgive these people, stumbling often, but readings like these remind me that I need to continue working to find the faith that God will help me, and help them.
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April 4
John Lang
Jeremiah 25:8-17 | Psalm 124, 125, 126, 127 | Romans 10:1-13 | John 9:18-41 Scientists notably are drawn to relationships, from a new revelation, or perceived pattern, or recognition of consistency. Sometimes more than others … while in other instances, maybe not more. However, there is this lore that suggests we have a curiosity driven by troublesome inconsistencies. Jer. In Jeremiah’s revelation, Judah is warned of impending devastation attributable to its distraction, insensitivity and departure from the teachings of God, for [you] have not listened or paid any attention… you have brought harm to yourselves. And the destruction will be not only on this land and its inhabitants but also against all the surrounding nations. And so, there is a collective responsibility, and a collective justice meted out. Even those vehicles that deliver divine intervention are not free of accountability. For we hear He will summon my servant Nebuchadnezzar and the peoples of the north to come down to destroy this land … its inhabitants …and the … surrounding nations yet for even the conquerors, in time, I will punish them, the king of Babylon and his nation…for their guilt. And for those in Judah or its neighbors, there is no way for any to escape, all will drink from this cup… of wrath. Ps. And now it IS time for a psalm. And what psalms David and Solomon have given us. If the lord had not been on our side …the raging waters would have swept us away …Our help is in the name or the Lord …So there is possibility of rescue to those who plant seed, to those who do good. There is influence effected by the individual, though the shadow of communal foreboding or collective benefit as…the Lord restored the fortunes of all of Zion. And it is fearful that the presence of the scepter of the wicked can turn the righteous to use their hands to do evil, for as Jeremiah warns this, too, will not go unnoticed! Rom. Fascinating is Paul’s interest in salvation for both the individual, brothers and sisters, and the entire nation of individual Israelites, not just the nation of Israel, a more encompassing goal of Jeremiah. His prescription for salvation is complex, belief is required yet insufficient if lacking involvement, profession of faith. Still, it is not always by volition, for I was found by those who did not seek me; I revealed myself to those who did not ask for me. Called to submit to God’s righteousness, significantly revealed in Christ, we find acceptance both warranted and unwarranted, salvation and no shame. For anyone, for everyone who calls upon him. But it is left to John, for the Gospel and in Christ, to welcome and cure those who may simply be ill, who found faith following healing, illustrating his caring for a single hurting individual. So, are salvation and rescue singular and personal or collective and congregational, whole and comprehensive? The answer appears to be, yes, both, together, and inseparable …for action and for response.
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April 5
Lauren Wainwright
Jeremiah 25:30-38 | Psalm 128, 129, 130 | Romans 10:14-21 | John 10:1-18 The story of the Good Shepherd from the Gospel of John is a familiar one to us all. Particularly, if you were raised in Catechesis or Godly Play, you can imagine the grassy field with the surrounding fence, little sheep, and shepherd statute. You may even be able to walk through the entire story and remember it by word. It is not hard to picture that image of the sheep that wander and are lost and the shepherd who protects them and knows them all by name. We have all heard that sheep are not the smartest of animals. They get lost easily, are vulnerable, and are often times stubborn. All of these are characteristics that we sometimes find in ourselves as well. Just like sheep, we tend to wander in life searching for purpose, meaning, and fulfillment. What sheep need, and cannot survive without, is a shepherd. A shepherd‘s voice provides assurance and guidance. The sheep follow him because they recognize his voice. The sheep are far more than a responsibility to the Good Shepherd. They are the object of the shepherd’s love and concern. As a result, the shepherd’s devotion to them is completely unselfish and it is the Good Shepherd that is willing to die for the sheep rather than abandon them. The more we wander, the more relentlessly God pursues us. This means we have the opportunity to have a personal relationship with God. He knows our names and our hearts. When we spend time with God and get to know him through prayer, study, and worship, we can learn to recognize God’s voice as well. We can follow his voice when we hear him call. Just like the Good Shepherd who would lay down his own life for his sheep, Jesus died on the cross for all of us. It is Jesus who came seeking us in love by calling our name because he cares and wants us to be in his fold. Remember this Lent and throughout the season of Easter that it is Jesus who calls you by name and knows you. Choose to follow him.
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April 6
Richard Kilgore Jeremiah 26:1-16 | Psalm 140, 142 | Romans 11:1-12 | John 10:19-42 This season let us walk with Jesus In the temple for yes, another feast.
The wind chills, yet we know God
gives us to Him,
the living temple of
God among us.
I said, “You are gods.�
Stone him!
I and the Father are one.
Stone him!
The Father is in me and I am in the Father.
Stone him!
Let us slip away with Jesus
to that place across the Jordan,
remembering John and the Father.
Let us hear His voice and follow Him. Amen.
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April 7
Wade Scofield
Jeremiah 29:1, 4-13 | Psalm 141, 143:1-11(12) | Romans 11:13-24 | John 11:1-27 or 12:1-10 When I think of Lent, I think of heartache and pain, of hardship and darkness that only we now as Christians know ends with Easter. In the liturgy, Lent is solemn. We sing less. We don’t say “alleluia.” On Good Friday, the altar and cross are veiled in black. When I think of Lent, I certainly don’t think of God’s words to the exiled Israelites in Babylon that we receive in Jeremiah 29:11 “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” This brings me to Lent as “God’s test.” From Sunday School I have been taught that Lent represents the Devil tempting Jesus in the Wilderness. We “give up” something during Lent to a) test ourselves and b) encourage diligence and focus on piety. It’s hard for me to accept the idea that God is “testing us” when we experience death, loss, or hardship, for God is omnipotent and omnibenevolent. So what is God really doing when we are in the Wilderness? Why would God accept the Israelites’ exile from the Promised Land, knowing full well their despair? Why would God send Jesus to face hunger and fatigue in the desert? Of course, I don’t know why, if not to show us in the Israelites in Exodus and Babylon that people are flawed, shortsighted, and sensationalist, and that, by contrast, Jesus resists, since Jesus is God. And God tells the Israelites and us in Jeremiah 29 not to stray from God to other prophets in times of affliction and trouble, whether those prophets are earthly people, like some in Jeremiah, or things, like the golden calf in Exodus. Which is not easy! To me, Lent is not a test, but God’s way of reminding us that we thought we had it all great! We thought, yeah, Advent and Christmas brought us promise and joy, and that joy blotted out our miseries. But not every day is God’s presence and love so overt. So on those days when no one tells us they love us when we need it most, when someone for whom we care is cruel or indifferent, when someone else is hired for a job we knew was the right fit for us… where are we looking? God consistently reminds our stubborn humanity that, despite the pain of the world, there is a future! There is a plan! Lent is a reminder that in our darkest days, even when the pain seems unbearable and we are tempted as humans are, that there is light, there is hope, and there is God.
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April 8
Kim Kinahan
Jeremiah 31:27-34 | Psalm 42, 43 | Romans 11:25-36 | John 11:28-44 or 12:37-50 In reading through the assigned readings, my mind latched on the concept of a garden (uproot, plant). “Just as I watched over them to uproot and tear down, and to overthrow, destroy, and bring disaster, so I will watch over them to build and to plant,” declares the LORD. Jeremiah 31:28 Maybe it’s because the time of year Lent falls; I have the approach of Spring, birth, and renewal, the cycle of life, budding flowers, and gardening on my mind. One of God’s first acts after creating the Earth was to plant a garden – and He created man specifically to help him tend and cultivate that garden. Gardens are distinguished from the wilderness in the fact that they need constant weeding and pruning. The Lord is a gardener who prunes the branches of a vine in order that they should produce fruit. Like a flower needs the sun and rain to grow, we need God. When we pray and talk to God, we help God’s love grow inside of us. “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.” John 12:44 Lent is a special time for us to center our lives. So in this time of Lent, what are the weeds in my life that I can pull so that the roots of God’s will can strengthen and spread? What in my life needs to be pruned so that the light of God can shine through more strongly? What seeds can I plant? God, I ask for your guidance to help me to do your will and serve you in all aspects of my life. Thank you for your blessings and call me to be a blessing to others. Amen
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April 9
Palm Sunday
Mary Lessmann
Isaiah 50:4-9a | Psalm 31:9-16 | Philippians 2:5-11 | Matthew 26:17-27:66
There is a beautiful intimacy in the image from our Isaiah passage. “Morning by morning [God] wakens – wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught.” It is an image of God personally whispering in one’s ear. How are our ears awakened by God? How are we listening for God? We begin by becoming aware of God’s presence. God can be present to us in worship, in our relationships, in the silence of prayer, in nature, in the words of those we encounter in our days, in our vocations. God is present all the time, coming to us personally in unexpected and surprising ways. Listening for God is a spiritual practice we are to cultivate. It requires waiting on God…and we’re not very patient. It requires allowing unstructured space for God to speak…and we’re not very good at permitting ourselves to be ‘inefficient.’ It requires lessening our pace so that we don’t rush by, don’t miss what God is saying…and we’re not very good at slowing down. Years ago I had an intense experience of God that took place in a Chuck E. Cheese. As I sat in the booth while my sons played, the bells from the games and the yelling of the children and the pizza order announcements all faded. My breath became short and my hands became clammy. After God spoke to me, it all returned to ‘normal.’ Later, I reflected on why God had chosen to get my attention in such a dramatic way. After looking back on the previous months, I realized that God had tried to get my attention in much more subtle ways…only I hadn’t heard him. He was wakening me…he was whispering in my ear…but I wasn’t listening. As we move into Holy Week, toward the passion of our Lord, let us resolve to wait on God, to leave wide margins in these days, to slow down. Let us not miss the chance to hear what God wants to tell us. Let us allow God to whisper in our ear. He might speak to us in new and surprising ways.
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April 10
Holy Week Monday
Doug Travis
Jeremiah 12:1-16 | Psalm 69:1-23 | Philippians 3:1-14 | John 12:9-19 One of the great mysteries of the Christian journey is that we are called to give our all to the effort even as we’re also taught that the journey can be made only through and with God’s grace, God’s gift. Paul alludes to this in the second chapter of his Letter to the Philippians. In verse 12 he writes: “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling” (words made famous by Soren Kierkegaard’s book of the same title). Read in isolation these words cannot but strike a certain terror in our hearts, for they seem to imply that it’s all on our shoulders alone, and that if we blow it the consequences will be horrific! Why else would he use the words “fear and trembling”? But note what comes in the very next verse: “for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” The paradox is that, even as we struggle to attain to our own salvation – our own spiritual maturity – we must work with confidence that God is working in us to achieve God’s goals, even if we’re unaware of God’s presence and action, even if sometimes we feel alone and, perhaps, abandoned. Most of you will know of the famous 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. What you may not be aware of is that, as surely as there are 12 steps listed in the Big Book, so there are 12 promises. The 12th promise is, “We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we couldn’t do for ourselves.” It is significant that this is the 12th promise in the list! The steps and the promises are chronological. Each depends on the prior. After all the steps have been taken and after – but only after – the first 11 promises have been fulfilled, do we discover that “God is doing for us what we couldn’t do for ourselves.” How does this work? We must act with confidence that God is working within us even when we don’t feel it. As Paul reminds us in our passage from Philippians today, “Not that I have already obtained this [i.e., the resurrection] or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.” Paul presses on (the action is Paul’s) because Christ Jesus has already made Paul his own (the action is the Risen Lord’s). As we enter Holy Week and prepare to remember Jesus’ horrific journey to Golgotha – a journey he made for you and me – let us revive ourselves to make the Christian journey with ever greater zeal, confident all the while that God is working in and through us to guarantee our efforts’ success.
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April 11
Holy Week Tuesday
Connie Webb
Jeremiah 15:10-21 | Psalm 94 | Philippians 3:15-21 | John 12:20-26
Everything we value requires sacrifice. Wellness. Successful long-term relationships. Responsible children. Community. Productive work. An educated mind. Freedom. Today’s readings speak that same sacrificial truth in regard to our relationship with the Creator, who has graciously gifted us the living world, the unique qualities we each embody, and the everopen arms that welcome us home even as we suffer the consequences of poorly exercising the gift of free will. “Therefore thus says the Lord: If you turn back, I will take you back and you shall stand before me.” - Jeremiah 15:10-21 Holy Week brings into focus the sacrifice of Jesus who, with full awareness, walked a dangerous path toward a tortuous end. Jesus risked little in commanding all to love one another and promoting heaven on earth. What put his life at risk was promoting a direct relationship between the faithful and their Creator, a concept faith leaders considered a threat to the prevailing power structure. To protect their self-interests, the leaders curried the political favor of the Roman authorities - all to the detriment of those they were called to serve. “Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things.” – Philippians 3:15-21 Some believe sacrifice for the faith unnecessary, that the bestowment of God’s continued graces was earned by virtue of Christ’s Passion. Adherents to the tenet “I got Jesus, I’m done” mistake a single scene for the entire performance. In The Cost of Discipleship, German theologian and author Dietrich Bonhoeffer described the thought process “now everything is forgiven, so you can stay as you are and enjoy the consolations of forgiveness” as “cheap grace”. This kind of thinking comes in particularly handy when the promotion of self-interests is involved; adherents who hold themselves lightly accountable are free to do the same for anyone from whom they expect to receive benefits. Bonhoeffer also spoke of “costly grace” and knew of that which he spoke. Bonhoeffer experienced history repeating itself when the faith leaders of his own national church, currying political favor from the Third Reich, refused to speak out - to the detriment of those they were called to serve. Like Jesus, Bonhoeffer was executed by the authorities for taking action when church leaders refused to sacrifice for what they purported to truly value. “Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.” - John 12:20-26 Bonhoeffer could have remained away from his home country and continued teaching, but he returned to speak out against what he saw as professed faithful complicit in the dehumanization of the “other”. Bonhoeffer did not stay safely away from this bastardization of his faith. Neither should we. “For the Lord will not forsake his people; he will not abandon his heritage; for justice will return to the righteous and all the upright in heart will follow it.” - Psalm 94
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April 12
Holy Week Wednesday Rejoice in the Lord, Always! When I received the readings for today’s Lenten meditation I was so excited to see Philippians 4:1-13. I knew it would be hard to keep today’s writing within the space allocated. There are so many wonderful lines of scripture in this chapter of Paul’s letter to the Philippians. I will try to highlight some of the most meaningful parts of the 13 verses from Philippians selected for today, and how they speak to me. “4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” This is Paul’s major theme of the letter. His encouragement to do this might be because if you set your mind to be happy and joyful, especially in the Lord, you are less likely to be quarrelsome, offensive or to take offense as easily. If your mind is occupied with higher things, you are not as easily distracted by life’s little troubles that naturally come your way. We should rejoice knowing that we are part of God’s plan and should give thanks and be happy knowing this no matter what. He didn’t say “Rejoice in the Lord whenever He gives you something you really want.” He said to rejoice in Him always. Be happy God is there for you in the good times and grateful He is there in the most challenging times. This is the secret to being content in all circumstances. “6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” This is one of the most meaningful passages of scripture in the Bible for me. It is about having faith, and through prayer being able to receive God’s gift of peace through the love of Christ. Peace beyond all worldly comprehension or explanation that can only be experienced. When I worry about something, I find my mind is drawn to this passage. It says that in every situation you should pray and with thanksgiving. I understand giving thanks for the good stuff, but what about the extremely difficult challenges and losses I face in life? Yes, I give thanks that God is there to carry me through these times and give me the strength to endure life’s challenges. It says the peace of God will guard your heart and your mind, not that you will get everything you want. I will be comforted once I trust in God and accept that His plans for my life are much better than anything I could possibly come up with. By staying focused on God through prayer, my problems seem to slip away, and I then can receive His peace. The world teaches us that peace is the result of having enough money, possessions, stuff, etc. However, God’s peace is an all-encompassing gift that is independent of all circumstances but not a permanent peace, independent of His presence. If it were, I might fall into the trap of self-sufficiency. I don’t enjoy peace in future tense either because it has not yet happened. I must enjoy it now, in the present moment daily, moment by moment. God’s peace flows constantly, and all I need to do to receive it is tune in through prayer. Prayer for me is like having a companion to talk to wherever I go and I try to say thanks for lots of little things throughout each day – a beautiful sunset, the bright red color of a cardinal, good food, a roof over my head, for giving me the words I needed in that important meeting. When I find I am worried about something, it is as if a bell goes off and I remember I need to pray about it. After I thank God for the thing I am worried about and thoroughly discuss my problem with Him, I listen, then I listen some more. During the listening part of my prayer, I begin to feel the peace come over me like a warm blanket. I feel comfort knowing that no matter what I am God’s own and nothing can take that away from me. My problem grows smaller and smaller. When I want something or 50
Warren Houser Jeremiah 17:5-10, 14-17 | Psalm 74 | Philippians 4:1-13 | John 12:27-36 a certain outcome, I pray that God hears my request and if it is part of His plan for me to receive it, and if not for me to accept the outcome trusting in His way. This “Thy will, not my will be done” mindset helps keep me in a connected, peaceful place even when the outcome I wanted does not occur. “11 . . . for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” Paul learned through Christ to be content no matter what his circumstances. He had to learn this because it isn’t natural for someone to be content when they suffer financially, physically, emotionally, or even like he did in his Roman imprisonment. By rejoicing in the Lord always, he remained content no matter what his earthly circumstances. If I lose everything but gain God’s peace I am rich indeed. We waste so much of our lives living in and worrying about the future, we miss out on so much of the present moment which is when and where Christ meets us and dwells in us. We think our circumstances determine the quality of our lives, so we pour so much of our energy into trying to control these situations. But if we let go and let God take control and trust that His plan is the better one, we stay close to Him and enjoy perfect peace no matter what the outcome. In this world we will face challenges, but if we keep Christ as the focal point of our life we will receive peace and the strength to get through them. This morning as I was finishing writing this meditation, I tried to read my Jesus Calling daily devotional on my phone and noticed the app was updating. The new version had a free 7-day trial of Sarah Young’s new devotional, Jesus Always. I decided to give it a try and read the first reading entitled “I am your Joy!” Guess what passage she decided to use as the reference – Philippians 4:4 “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!” I think that sounds like a great plan to me!
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April 13
Maundy Thursday
Lee Taft
Exodus 12:1-14, (5-10), 11-14 | Psalm 116:1, 10-17 | 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 | John 13:1-17, 31b-35
I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:34-35 Today is Maundy Thursday, the first day in the Triduum, or the first of the three holy days before Easter. It comes from the Latin mandatum novum, meaning new commandment as pronounced in John 13:34 and also from “the Maundy,” the name given to foot washing. It is a particularly rich liturgical day: we commemorate the institution of the Eucharist and witness the stripping of the altar. As I write it is actually January 28, one week into the Trump presidency. In his inaugural address Mr. Trump promised, “from this day forward a new vision will govern our land. From this day forward, it’s going to be only America first. America first.” By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. He has already signed directives to undermine the Affordable Care Act, revive the Keystone Pipeline, and build a wall on our border with Mexico. Yesterday, Mr. Trump signed an executive order temporarily halting the refugee resettlement program and suspending visas from several Muslim-majority countries. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. Last fall, Governor Abbot announced his intention to pull Texas out of the U.S. refugee resettlement program. The Episcopal bishops responded immediately and unanimously asking that our leaders reject “fear-based policy that is not worthy of our proud state and abandons families who have already gone through so much. That’s not who we are as Texans, and it does not reflect the very best Texas values.” By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. In their bold and prophetic letter our bishops missed only one thing. In rejecting a fear-based yet popular political policy, our bishops talked about Texas values, when what really is at stake is the Christian value of love. Christian love cares for the poor and weak, respects women, seeks justice and equality for all people, demands racial equity and liberation, and stewards the earth. Long ago Bonhoeffer noted that there is a cost to discipleship. Christian love demands that all elected officials who claim Christian identity love as Christ taught us to love. Discipleship makes a claim on those in the pulpit and those in the pews. If all you can do is pray, then pray. If you are able, take to the phones, the streets, and the polls. Work for Jesus. Work for love. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. Tonight, as you receive the bread of the Maundy Thursday Eucharist, remember Jesus’ commandment to love one another. As you receive the cup, remember love. The world is watching. Will they know whose disciples we are? 52
April 14 Good Friday
Peggy Carr
Isaiah 52:13-53:12 | Psalm 22 | Hebrews 10:16-25 or 4:14-16; 5:7-9 | John 18:1-19:42 The blackest day in the Christian church. Silence. Tears of mourning. Vacant altar. Most holy. Fasting. Vigils. Solemn. Black fabric covers the cross. Jesus said, “ If I’ve said something wrong, prove it.” “Do you think for a minute I’m not going to drink this cup the Father gave me?” The rulers want no part in any of this as they see that they cannot win. You take him, you crucify him. I find nothing wrong with him. High priests and police shouted in a frenzy, “Crucify him.” Justice miscarried, and he was led off. The people gather around in quiet, feeling powerless. Who would believe what we’ve heard and seen? We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost. We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way. And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong, on him, on him. ...A man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand. . . .We thought he brought it on himself, that God was punishing him for his own failures. But it was our sins that did that to him, that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins! He took the punishment, and that made us whole. Such sadness throughout the land. Jesus said, “It is done. . .complete.” Bowing his head, he offered up his spirit. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all except the sin. He has never let you down, never looked the other way. . . .He has never wandered off to do his own thing; he has been right there, listening. While he lived on earth, anticipating death, Jesus cried out in pain and wept in sorrow as he offered up priestly prayers to God. Because he honored God, God answered him. Christ made a single sacrifice for sins, and that was it! . . .It was a perfect sacrifice by a perfect person to perfect some very imperfect people. Dear God, may we kneel in prayer this day, asking forgiveness of our sins and in thanksgiving for sending your Son, Jesus Christ, to save us. Amen.
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April 15
Shelly Vescovo
Holy Saturday
Job 19:21-27a | Psalm 27 | Hebrews 4:1-16 | Romans 8:1-11 But as for me, I know that my Vindicator lives, and that he will at last stand forth upon the dust; Whom I myself shall see: my own eyes, not another’s, shall behold him, And from my flesh I shall see God; my inmost being is consumed with longing. Job 19: 21-27a The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear. Psalm 27:1a …so that the just demands of the law might be fulfilled in us who live, not according to the flesh, but according to the spirit. Romans 8:4 So – what do we do when our hopes are shattered? When the proverbial rug is pulled, no yanked, out from under us? When, like the child at the fair reveling in her new balloon, that balloon is burst? Shock. Fear. Disbelief. Grief. Despair. But, if we have been listening, this is never where Jesus ended a story. These reactions, totally normal, are not the resolution he promised us would be the final answer. Do we really believe what he taught? Did not how he lived his life provide us with incontrovertible evidence that God is always with us? Is not his death a testimony that one’s highest values, one’s friends, are worth dying for? In short, WE are the next generation – we are the inheritors of the passion Jesus had to live a life in complete witness to the will of God: which is to love God and to love our neighbor as ourselves. Even if we don‘t know what tomorrow may bring or what forces will try to congregate their destructive powers to hold us back, we are commissioned to continue to be Jesus’, to be God’s, witness in the world, to the world. For as followers of Jesus, we always have hope. So I close with a poem by Emily Dickinson on this Holy Saturday: Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all.
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April 16
Easter Sunday
Chris Girata
Acts 10:34-43 or Jeremiah 31:1-6 | Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24 | Colossians 3:1-4 or Acts 10:34-43 | John 20:1-18 or Matthew 28:1-10
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his mercy endures forever. — Psalm 118:1 One of my favorite movies is The Shawshank Redemption. I was only a teenager when I first saw it, but I knew right away that the story was something special. As I watched the movie, something about the story tugged at me, pulled at me, and I wasn’t quite sure what it was. After everything that happened to Andy Dufresne, after watching him struggle in prison and wrestle with his own demons and then managing a stunningly brilliant escape, I still couldn’t put my finger on just what was moving me so deeply about the story. And then, in the final minutes of the movie, Andy’s friend, Red, reads Andy’s words from a letter he left him that said, “Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” Hope is good, and no good thing ever dies. In the last few days, we have journeyed through Holy Week and now we celebrate Easter. The mystery of Holy Week and Easter can be dense for many of us. In a matter of days, we recalled the story of Jesus’s final days, referred to as his passion. We recalled the story of Jesus’s final entrance into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, his final meal with his disciples on Maundy Thursday, his trial and brutal death on Good Friday, and now we celebrate his resurrection! These are stories that we know very well, stories most of us have heard our entire lives, yet they can just remain stories unless we invite them to truly change us. Jesus’s passion can seem very distant to many of us. His death and resurrection can seem so different than our life experience that if we aren’t careful, we can just go through the motions of the moment. If we aren’t, the greatest story ever told will remain just a story. But if we look a little deeper, if we garner a bit more courage, this story can change our lives. The story of Jesus’s final days, the story of his death and resurrection, are not the end. This story of Jesus is just the beginning! The story of Jesus is the story of God’s greatest gift to each one of us, to the people He loves so deeply — hope. Hope is the core, the center of true goodness. Hope is the goodness that God planted deep down inside each one of us, but it often takes an extraordinary experience to help us see that we have the most good, the most beautiful hope at our deepest center. There is goodness inside each one of us, a hope that has been planted by the God who loves you unconditionally. Hope is good, and no good thing ever dies. This Easter season, rediscover the hope inside of you, so that together, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we will truly give thanks to the Lord, for he is so very good!
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Saint Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church 8011 Douglas, Dallas, TX 75225 saintmichael.org (214) 363-5471