Mercy Will Never Run Dry
And finally, never lose hope in the mercy of God.
RB §4 | St. Benedict
Writing in the 6th c, Benedict of Nursia composed a Rule for the monastery he founded. This sort of Rule was not what we moderns might think of as rule(s): a list of things to do and not do. Rather, the Rule of St. Benedict is a guide for communal life of the monastery, with the goal that the monk (and by implication the monastery) would draw nearer to God in all of their life. Every aspect of life was covered in the Rule for our entire lives–all of it–should be lived in glory and devotion to God. Moreover we should submit every aspect of our lives–each one of them–to the Lord for his evaluation, guidance, and shepherding care.
St. Benedict concludes the chapter "Tools for Good Works"–which include love the Lord; the Ten Commandments; love your enemies–with a simple and moving line: "And finally, never lose hope in the mercy of God." In writing it this way, he recognizes the draw, the pull, the temptation, to lose hope. And not hope in general, but something far more damaging and damning: losing hope in the mercy of God. For in losing this hope, the heart calcifies. If God is not merciful we are all damned. And if that were true, then we abandon all hope wherever we may enter. And so we would become hard-hearted, cynical wanderers.
But, as St. Benedict urges, we are to never lose hope in the mercy of God. Sometimes–most times?–easier said than done. What might we do, then, when the drought of despair appears to extinguish life, whether because of events in the world, circumstances in your life, or the stirrings of your heart? Where might we turn when the land appears to have turned to dust; when it seems that all is lost; that the fountainhead of mercy, that it too, has dried up? Tired soul remember the sacrifice of Jesus, the great display of the mercy of God.
And as Christ is alive forever, mercy will never run dry.
– Matthew+
Behold Your King. Humble.
Behold, your king is coming to you, humble.
Matthew 21:5
How do you view your king–Jesus–coming to you on a daily basis? What words would you use to describe his disposition towards you; the look in his eyes; the words which he speaks to you; the use and placement of his hands; his nearness to (or distance kept from) you? Is there a scowl on his face and a huff in his voice because you (think you can only) annoy him? Is his distant from you, out of earshot and intentionally looking the other way, knowing you are there but trying to avoid you?
These, and pictures like them, are not the Jesus we see in the Holy Gospels. Rather we see Jesus, who is "the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, by whom all things were created, in heaven and on earth"...and for him all things were created (Col 1:15-16), we see this Jesus born from the virgin Mary. We see this Jesus feeding the needing, not just with food and drink, but with his very life. We see this Jesus giving time and place to children, the woman at the well, the ostracized. We see this Jesus ask "do you love me?"
Our world is beautiful for it is fashioned by the hands of God who is beautiful. And our world is worn and tattered, both in its physicality–"all creation groans"–and in the spiritual forces that hold sway. And this weariness can muddle the character and disposition of God. Our adversary would love if we only viewed God as a tyrant. Yet what tyrant offers up his one and only son for his enemies?
Behold your king. Humble.
– Matthew+
Medicine for Spiritual Health
For generations upon generations, the Psalms were the prayers of God's people. They were songs lifted up to God in praise, lamentation, and thanksgiving. Their imagery spoke to the situations of many, directly or indirectly. They conveyed the longing of the human soul and provided language to the sinner and saint that they might pour out their heart to the Lord.
In some corners of the Church catholic, the Psalms have lost their savor. They are barely prayed. They are not seen to provide language for the soul, but they are only objects to be studied. In our Anglican tradition, as with other traditions of the Church, the Psalms are central to our lives. They are prayed each Sunday during our worship, they shape our liturgy, and they are prayed during the daily offices, morning and evening. Praying them daily is like walking the same path in the countryside to the point where the familiarity of the path frees you to fully enjoy all that surrounds you. This may take a while, but it is an exercise, a practice, a rhythm worth developing. For the Psalms are not merely window dressing for the other more "substantial" or "important" aspects of Scripture. They are rich with encountering God. They are saturated with knowledge of the human heart. They are overflowing with the love of God. They proclaim justice to the oppressed. They are a means of pursuing holiness, shaping the one who prays them into the image of God, who is Jesus.
St. Ambrose, a 4th century bishop of Milan says this about the Psalms: "History instructs us, the law teaches us, prophecy foretells, correction punishes, morality persuades; but the book of Psalms goes further than all these. It is medicine for our spiritual health. Whoever reads it will find in it a medicine to cure the wounds caused by one's own particular passions. Whoever studies it deeply will find it a kind of gymnasium open for all souls to use, where the different Psalms are like different exercises set out before one. In that gymnasium, in that stadium of virtue, one can choose the exercises that will train one best to win the victor's crown."
If the Psalms are not yet a daily path for you, if they are not yet a gymnasium which you frequent, start small. Find one or two (or three) and pray them. Let them become a well-worn path. And as all paths lead the traveler somewhere, may these well-worn paths lead you nearer and nearer to your Lord.
– Matthew+
Refuge in the Wings
You have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings
I will sing for joy.
Psalm 63:7
Psalm 63. This is a Psalm of David, a prayer, in which he lifts up his heart to the Lord for he is in the wilderness of Judah. He is in that trackless, deserted, arid, sandy, barren abode of the jackals. Not much life is to be found there, very little water, and even lesser shade. Many assailants are found in the desert and they make themselves known to David in their continuous assault on him.
Now this may surprise the reader: David is not forlorn. He has not abandoned all hope upon entering the desert. This is the case because he has found some shelter, a bit of shade. His help is found in the Lord who has spread wide his wings, sheltering him from the onslaught of the heat and assailants. And if you had been in that desert with David, you would have not only seen David under the wing of the Lord, but you would have heard his songs of joy. For when you abide in the shadow of the wings of the Lord, when you are taken up into his care and provision, when he has drawn near to you, your soul can do nothing but sing.
Where are your places of refuge and rest? When you are weary, weak-kneed, and seeking shelter, what do you find over your head? Are you stumbling in the desert, going at it alone? That is only the way of death. Find your refuge in the Lord, in the shadow of his wings. For they are spread wide that you might find rest for your soul. And in their shadow, you too might rejoice.
– Matthew+
Immense & Immediate Hands
In his hand are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are his also.
The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land.
Psalm 95:4-5
The hands of the Lord are a thing to behold. With them he fashioned the world and the fullness thereof. As a potter fashions clay, the Lord fashioned the world, molding it in accordance with his creative heart and love. As the only infinite being and person, everything finite can be found in his hands. Living in the PNW, we are blessed to see a diversity of his creative work in the mountain ranges that flank us to the East and West. We also enjoy the blessing of the expansive waters of our seas, which invite adventure and contemplation.
In Psalm 95–a well-known Psalm in its own right and one which we pray in the Morning Office–the psalmist summons us to praise the Lord because of his greatness as seen in the world which he created. But not only is this the world which he created, these mountains and seas are found within the folds and crevices of his hand. As we humans cup water or soil in our hand, so the Lord cups the world's oceans and the world's mountain peaks in his. This aspect of his hands conveys his immensity, his transcendence, his power, and his might. And yet this is not the only occurrence of his hands in this Psalm.
Later, in verse 7, we read of another aspect of his hands. The focus is no longer the immensity of God–though that is still present–but it has shifted to his imminent and immediate care for his own: He is our God and we are the people He tends and the flock of His hand.* And it is precisely this contrast that we are to keep in our minds and hearts. The hands in which are found the seas and mountains, are the same hands that care for you as a shepherd tends sheep. The hands that gave you life by forming you in the image of God, are the same hands that were pierced for your transgressions, that you might have true life. The hands that defeated our great enemy are the same hands that welcome you into the kingdom of God, prepared for you from the foundation of the world.
Entrust yourself to those hands; rest in those hands.
– Matthew+
*Translation by Robert Alter
Praying Often
"Pray frequently and effectually; I had rather your prayers should be often than long."
– Jeremy Taylor, 17th c.
Several decades ago I decided that was I really serious about God. I was so serious in fact that I would prove it to him by my stringent devotion to him. I worked this out–or rather attempted to–by arising at 4:30a to pray for at least an hour. And when I say pray, I do not mean that in the Anglican sense (or other Christian traditions) where the entire Morning Office is your prayer. This was "unstructured prayer" and so it was 60+ minutes of me trying to think of things to say to God while not falling asleep. In the end I could not maintain that schedule and I folded. More than that, I was defeated. Had I heard Jeremy Taylor's words then, I may have changed my approach before I started.
We can fall into the trap of thinking there is a direct proportionality to the time I spend in prayer and its "effectiveness." But that is already a misunderstanding of prayer. We do not approach our Father to earn his favor by our words; he is already gracious towards us and delights in us for we are his children. Prayer, rather, is communion with him. It is being in his presence. Sometimes words do this. Sometimes it may be meditation on Scripture. Sometimes it may simply be "Amen." But as we dare not forego breathing too long for in so doing we deprive ourself of the wind of life, so we should not forego prayer for too long. Just as we need not take every breath as deeply as possible–we may end up being a bit light-headed in fact if we attempt that!–so too every prayer need not be as long as possible. To quote Taylor again, "I had rather your prayers should be often than long."
For some, your prayers may be the entire Office (or Offices) with all corresponding readings and several collects, too. If you have that time, pray also for your brothers and sisters who may have less. For others, your time is restricted due to late work shifts, tired children, or other responsibilities. And though you feel the limits of your time, pray often. You need not pray long. But pray often. This may look like praying the Lord's Prayer for Morning and Evening Prayer. It could look like including the Psalm for that Office if you have a few more minutes. It may look like praying the Jesus prayer: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner."
We must start where we are and certainly hope that growth will happen by the Spirit of God. But we need to start where we are. If you find prayer to be difficult or you find it a challenge to make time for it, let's talk. Let's talk because you have need to breathe by the Spirit of God and to do so often.
– Matthew+
Shaped by Love
"...our identity is shaped by what we ultimately love or what we love as ultimate–what, at the end of the day, gives us a sense of meaning, purpose, understanding, and orientation to our being-in-the-world. What we desire or love ultimately is a (largely implicit) vision of what we hope for, what we think the good life looks like. This vision of the good life shapes all kinds of actions and decision and habits that we undertake, often without our thinking about it...What's at stake is not primarily ideas but love, which functions on a different register. Our ultimate love/desire is shaped by practices, not ideas that are merely communicated to us."
Desiring the Kingdom | James K.A. Smith
And this is why our worship, argues Smith, is so important. Not important in that we only get right ideas into our heads–though that can and should happen. But more rooted, more foundational, more core-centric than that is that our love and heart's desire is shaped by what we do. And on a surface level we know this to be true. As I mentioned in a sermon some weeks back, there is very little in my heart that desires to follow slow speed limits. More than that, it is a nuisance when others drive so slowly. The gas pedal does go further. Really. And regardless of how many laws and rules and statistics I might read, it is all information that is not affecting my heart. But when I am drawn towards first loving my neighbor in all aspects of my life, only then would I first seek their good above my own.Only then might I seek to follow a slow limit. Maybe I would even just call it the "speed limit" and leave off the judgmental adjective "slow."
Our liturgy is shaped and intended to shape and orient our hearts towards God's gracious love of us and his world. Each section or movement of our liturgy is intentional and connected to the others. And they are laid out that our love might be shaped and formed, not just our heads.
Consider the Summary of the Law. When Jesus was asked to sum up the Law he did so by leading with "love the Lord your God"–taken from Deut 6 and the first tablet of the Law. He followed that up with "love your neighbor as yourself"–taken from Lev 19 and the second tablet of the Law. But how do you and I do with that daily, let alone weekly? How can we love God so fully and our neighbors in our own strength? We need the mercy and grace of God to aid us in that work–or better yet, that way of living–which is why the Kyrie is sung next. We ask for God's mercy to aid us in loving rightly. And this is then followed by a hymn where we praise God for who he is and that he guides and leads us in loving him and others.
How does this movement shape our love? We hear of God's righteous and good law for our world and we see that he also provides what is needed that we might live out his instruction. He does not lay a heavy burden on us and is unwilling to do anything about it. Rather we see him doing as St. Augustine prays: "Grant what you command, and command what you desire."
Grace & Peace
Signs and Sounds of Life
Emmanuel Anglican –
You shall teach them [the Torah] diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house,
and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.
– Deuteronomy 6:7
Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.
– Matthew 19:14
Where there is life, there are the signs and sounds of life. And where there is the absence of life, the signs and sounds of life are diminished, if not altogether absent. We all should desire life and its accompanying signs and sounds. Children are signs and sounds of life and are an integral part of the life of a community. They are an integral part of our parish and they are a gift to this parish.
Israel was to involve them in all aspects of their life, teaching them the way of God, his great love for them, and what it meant to walk in the good life, the blessed life of God.
During Jesus' earthly ministry, families brought their children to Jesus that "he might lay his hands on them and pray." But for the disciples, this was a situation unbecoming of their holy teacher. Their response was a sharp rebuke to the families, dismissing them as a distraction and nuisance. In this they failed to see the blessing that children are. They also failed to see that children are our teachers.
The onset of adulthood can bring with it a rigidity in our relationship to God. We often exchange our early love for shriveled duty. But children know differently; they know better. And they teach us this difference, if we but let them come.
They are our teachers. They teach us that we are to approach God out of hearts of love, laughter, joy, and hunger. Our worship is to have in it these signs and sounds of life. They teach us that, though God is indeed holy, he delights in our earthliness for he is the one who pronounced a blessing over all creation with his words: it is good. They teach us that it is the meek, the simple, the hungry to whom belong the kingdom (Lk 19:14).
Their presence is a gift and blessing to our parish with all its accompanying challenges. And those challenges are real. But let us not be like the disciples who found their signs and sounds of life a nuisance. But may we rightly see our children–and others yet to come to Emmanuel–to be the signs and sounds of life. May we desire that life. May we desire to be taught by them that our joy, love, life, hunger, and worship might overflow out of the abundance of our hearts.
Grace & Peace
Casting Out Fear
Fear not, for I have redeemed you...Fear not, for I am with you.
Isaiah 43:1, 5
The theme and idea of fear has been on my mind as of late. It certainly has something to do with the overall effect Covid has had (and continues to have) on the entire world. Fear seems to be more apparent "in the air". And that is understandable as we often fear things that are unknown. And we fear especially those things which are unknown but we see their effects in our daily lives. Fear is fueled by things that are uncertain and fear toys with those uncertainties.
While speaking with a friend earlier this week, I commented on Psalm 23. In that well-known psalm, the Lord prepares a table before his loved one in the presence of enemies. The Lord has not displaced them or removed them with a snap of his fingers (though he could). Rather, he lays out a feast for his loved one and the enemies are kept at bay, because the Lord is present. It is his presence that settles the lambs of the Lord and turns their fear into peace.
The Gospel is the good news, the good announcement, that God has accomplished the redemption of the world in his Son, Jesus the Christ. The Gospel is not merely the report that Jesus is now alive nor is it merely that one does not have to go to hell. Rather, all that God intends for the world is now possible for humanity can now be born from above which is being born again. This is possible because the firstborn of creation has been born. And from this new birth comes a new creation, a redeemed creation. The effects of the Gospel are manifold and are to spill over the banks of the report of the good news itself into all areas of our lives. In other words, we are to drink deeply from the Gospel that it might enliven our entire being; it is not a mere calculus.
The Gospel proclaims that death has died at the hands of Christ. The Gospel proclaims the fractured relationship of humanity (and the world) and God is restored through Christ. The Gospel proclaims that God is with us. The Gospel proclaims "Fear not."
As the Gospel is true and you are loved and cared for by God, whom shall you fear? Through the Gospel, the Lord sets humans free from the fearful constraints of life apart from God, a fear that we see even at the beginning with Adam and Eve hiding in the Garden from the presence of God. But as the Son has set you free, you are free indeed. He has set you free by his perfect love, and perfect love casts out all fear.
Grace & Peace
Flee Fear By Joy
During Vespers last Wednesday evening I noticed a theme recurring throughout our evening of prayer: flee fear and pursue joy. Fear is a brutal tyrant, demoralizing everyone under its thumb, fomenting anxiety and second-guessing, and sewing discord and doubt in the fields of our lives. As heinous of a master it is, many people often find themselves enslaved to it in lesser or greater degrees. It can even masquerade, at times, as wisdom.
But joy, joy is something else entirely. Joy is a well-watered garden from which all life flows and overflows into life upon life. Joy is the life-giving nutrients in the vine that feed and are made manifest in the fruit of the vine. Joy is a life of simple contentment, resting in and on Christ.
Fr. Alexander Schmemann (For the Life of the World) wrote some forty years ago "...from its very beginning Christianity has been the proclamation of joy, of the only possible joy on earth." But that joy is not always made manifest in the life of the Church. Schmemann again: "Of all accusations against Christians, the most terrible one was uttered by Nietzsche when he said that Christians had no joy."
I'll be the first to confess that, at times, Nietzsche's statement accurately describes my life. I am not joyful because I have handed over the keys to Fear. More than that, I have forgotten–not merely the knowledge of, but the very reality of–what it means that Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again. Since (not if) this mystery of the faith is true, how can I not be a person of joy? That's an honest question. What reason or rationale do I have to not be joyful in all things? Perhaps it comes down to "I have forgotten my first love."
This is, in part, why worship is essential to this life and the life to come. There is much in this world that hampers us, weighs us down. We have need to be raised up on eagles wings as we do in our liturgy and worship, that we might be drawn back to our first love once again, to be fed his Word and to sit (for a while) at his Table.
Grace & Peace
First Notice the Image
And God created the human in his image,
in the image of God He created him,
male and female He created them.
Genesis 1:27 | Robert Alter
I've read these words many times. They stand out in the Old Testament as the first poem and it is a poem on the lips of God himself as he creates humanity. I think the poem is behind the rationale for C.S. Lewis' Aslan to sing all things into creation.
This morning I rode my brilliantly orange bike to the church, to my study. As I passed by many other people–some walking, some biking, some smoking, some tired from a long night outside–the thought struck me: these are made and reflect, in some measure, the image of God. And yet how often do I not lead with that reality of another human but lead with another idea that is constructed and spoken by...well I don't know exactly who or where.
It is easy to belittle others and it often starts with assuming their image(ness) is rooted in something other than God and his creating all humanity in his image. But what if we began with recognizing that each person we encounter is created in the image of God the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth? What if, before jumping to criticize their appearance, odor, political affiliations, language, behavior, orientation, etc., we first began with "this is a person deemed by God to bear His image"? That would certainly soften our hearts so they are pliable as Jesus', tender that they might listen to the guidance of the Spirit.
Perhaps we should lead with words like these on our lips: "image-bearer of God".
Grace & Peace
Craning Toward the Light
You have said, "Seek my face."
My heart says to you,
"Your face, Lord, do I seek."
Psalm 27:8
Months ago, my wife planted tulips in a makeshift planter box I quickly assembled out of scrap wood from our ever-increasing pile in the back yard. Over the past few weeks we have enjoyed seeing these flowers push through the soil and begin to crane their brilliantly colored heads and faces toward the sun. They do so because they were made to do so, for the sun–the warmth it gives and the light it provides–brings forth life. These flowers, unknown to them, seek the face of the sun. And they should.
We, as plantings of the Lord, are to crane our heads toward him, seeking his face, for it is from his face, his presence, that life emanates. Yet unlike flowers, we know this, can experience it, and can receive his affection and love.
We may seek him in hours of prayer, in meditation on his Word, in the stillness of a morning or evening, in the company of friends, and in the hurriedness that is much of our lives. He is to be found everywhere for he is every where. "The world is charged with the grandeur of God," begins G.M. Hopkins in his poem, God's Grandeur. We can catch glimpses of him if we have but eyes to see. And through those eyes that desire to see–however slightly they may be opened–we seek the face of God. And that is the posture he desires. We do not do this perfectly, no. But we do it obediently for obedience is a healthy practice, just as those tulips obey the sun's wooing to turn towards its warmth and life-giving light.
Grace & Peace
Reworking the Soil
Jesus often taught in short stories–parables–which helped those with ears to hear to understand the spiritual things he discussed. It also served to mask things from others. In his parable on the Sower and the Sown Seed, Jesus told of seed that, depending on where it had been sown, was liable to take root and bear fruit or to suffer a far less fruitful life.
Often I have heard this parable used as a means to prompt the evaluative question: how fruitful are you being for God? And I suppose the idea behind that question may be a good one. (The idea being our confession should lead to acts of love for God and neighbor.) But often that question is used a litmus test to see how a person "measures up" in their spirituality.
I've often been struck by the third account of the seed, that sown among the thorns. I'm intrigued by it because of Jesus' explanation regarding the thorns. They reflect the "cares of this world, the deceitfulness of riches, and the desire for other things" (Mk 4:19). Though we stand millennia removed from this teaching of Jesus by the sea, his assessment of the human heart is as pertinent as ever.
The thing with thorns, and other weeds for that matter, is that they can be pulled up. That's not an easy endeavor, especially if they have been given full reign of the soil. Their roots go down deep, they fight back against any assaults with their thorns, and they are persistent. But they can be uprooted. The soil can be reworked, nutrients can be reintroduced that the seed might flourish.
As we reflect, hear, and respond to the good news of the resurrection during Eastertide, perhaps this is a good time to consider where you have not allowed the healing and cleansing work of the Spirit into the field of your heart. Where have you nurtured the thorns–actively or by letting them grow as they will–even knowing that they bring harm? Though the uprooting is not easy–it may even be painful–the outcome is health, growth, and life.
Let us be a people desiring life for we serve a living–"He is not here; he has risen"–King.
Grace & Peace
Shaped by the Cross
The Lord of hosts is with us;
The God of Jacob is our fortress.
Psalm 46:11
Imagery is used all throughout the Scriptures because images convey ideas that we can grasp and thereby help us understand the ideas communicated by their use. The depiction of God as a fortress, as in Psalm 46, conveys the idea of resiliency, safety, strength, stature, and protection, among many others. As we reflect on–or better yet visit!–a fortress, we can catch a glimpse of what God is like.
From the earliest centuries after Christ's death, resurrection, and ascension, the image of the cross was used by the Church and Christians to convey something of who they were (and are): they are people who follow in the way of the Crucified One, the one crucified for the life of the world. That tradition has carried on down through the ages and is common in our own day.
Over the last few months, the we have worked with a Seattle graphic designer, Amy MacCready, to help us design an image that depicts Emmanuel. (You can see the final image below.) As with our brothers and sisters before us, the cross is the focal point for only by that cross are we a communion of saints. And it is from that cross–an image for Jesus–that all manner of goodness, beauty, life, health, peace, joy, and love burst forth. This certainly conveys the spiritual life Jesus has wrought for us, atoning for our sins, being a propitiation for our sins and the sins of the world. It is also because of the work of Jesus on the cross that the Church is to be about his work, promoting justice, and continuing to usher in his kingdom through her prayers and life.
We have sought to capture these ideas in the simple, yet beautiful, design. We can't say everything about who we are and who our Lord is in this image, but it at least says this: we are those who follow the Crucified One, living a cruciform life of sacrifice and love, and it is from this Lord that love is poured out into the world.
May we continue to be a people shaped by the Way of Jesus, for our growth and for the good of the world.
Grace & Peace
Enamored by the Beloved
I've sat at this computer for the past 15+ minutes attempting to figure out the best way to introduce this note, but this sentence is all I've got. So I suppose that functions as my introduction. *Pat on the back.*
Listening to a local musician this evening–King's Kaleidoscope–I found myself prompted by a question though the song had little to do with it: by what am I enamored? What has a gravitational effect on my heart, drawing me in to it? And this line of inquiry led to the following: in what ways am I enamored by God? Hm.
I suppose my first response would be I am enamored by God's desire to be known by his people, as made explicit by the incarnation of Jesus. He wants to be found. And in finding him, one finds life itself. I haven't gotten over that one yet and doubt I ever will. I'm not even sure I'd want to for that matter, for it is a fountain of grace to my weaknesses.
How might you respond to that question: what ways are you enamored by God? The question isn't geared towards highlighting the information you know about him. Rather its aim is to draw to your heart and mind aspects of God that warm your heart toward him in love.
For some, you may already have a list the length of your arm by the time you finish this sentence. If that is you, that is a gift and continue delighting in God. For others, you may find it challenging to call to mind, let alone voice out loud, ways you are enamored by him. Maybe the idea itself–a heart, your heart, warmed and open to God–is unnerving or awkward. Perhaps you find it hard to be enamored by God because of present grief, difficulty, or pain. Being enamored by him does not require loud or boisterous responses. It can even be found in warm tears as difficulty still looms on the horizon.
Regardless of where the Lord has you in life–and this does not disregard your present circumstances–may you rest in this: "See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are." (1 Jn 3:1)
Grace & Peace
A Banner Proclaiming “Love”
I am currently taking a short, five-week class on contemplative prayer. In short, it is a way of listening to God, primarily through his Word, and being present with him. The other day I spent some time meditating on Song of Solomon 2:4 which reads: He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.
I am not sure how those words strike you–perhaps read them again and take a few moments to mull them over–but in prayer, I was drawn to the seemingly discomforting feeling that the banner over me is love. That is not what I would write if I had the pen in hand. And therein lies the problem, two-fold.
I often will not give the Lord space to make his pronouncements over me but, because of insecurities or other weaknesses of my heart, I exclaim that they are too good to be true. And maybe they are too good, but why not also be true? (Indeed, they are both: too good, and wonderfully true.) This unwillingness to listen to the Lord's pronouncement opens the breach to the second problem: I rewrite what is scrawled on that banner. (Or, if I do not take up the pen myself, I willingly listen to the lies scribbled over the word love.)
What false truths do you write or allow to be written on that banner? Unlovable? Too weak? Forgotten? Such language is only intended to draw you away from the love of the Father. Indeed, that language is from the pits of hell. Rather than let such banners fly over your head, suffocating you in the process, consider Song 2:4. It is the Lord who writes and displays his banner over you and that banner's exclamation is singular: LOVE.
Grace & Peace
A Reconciling Gospel
"But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility..." Eph 2:13-14
This entire chapter (Eph 2) was the main text for Rev. Brandon Washington, keynote speaker at this week's synod gathering.* As a scholar on Dietrich Bonhoeffer, he was invited by Bishop Ken to speak on Bonhoeffer's theological basis for social justice. Two things struck me deeply.
First, he drew our attention to how we often understand the Gospel and its benefits. It is common, especially for the majority culture, to hear that the Gospel is a statement of my right standing before God; I am reconciled to God. And that is where we stop. Yet, Brandon reminded us–indeed he exhorted us–from Eph 2, that the same Gospel that reconciled us to God is the same Gospel that reconciles us to each other.
Second, the value of a thing can be determined by the price paid for it. The price paid for our reconciliation is the very life of Christ. That is the value placed on our reconciliation. And this reconciliation is not only our reconciliation to God. It is also our reconciliation to each other, those from whom we differ, people from all walks of life, demographics, and ethnicities. Therefore, if we value the Gospel–and we should–we will value each other.
I would encourage you to take some time to watch Rev. Brandon's first session talk which can be found on the DRM's YouTube page here. (The DRM is the diocese of the Rocky Mountains, our diocese.) You can find the other sessions on the DRM's main YouTube page here.
One of the first steps towards healing and justice is to understand the situation, causes, and resultant problems. Listening is an excellent start to this process. I'd invite you to listen.
Grace & Peace
Daily Bears Us Up
Living in the PNW, it is almost required that a person love hiking in the great outdoors. (No judgment here if that's not your jam.) While hiking I often see people hiking with poles which they do in order to provide some stability and aid as they ascend or descend the trail. As I continue to age–I'm not that old just yet–I realize that I too may need or want a set myself pretty soon. These poles won't carry me all the way up the trail and back, but they do provide a little support, a little help. At times we approach God in like manner. I can manage most of the way on my own; here and there I may need some support and that's where God comes in, correct? He's (only) a crutch, right?
Psalm 68:19. Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation. The image of God here is not a simple hiking pole, something to lean on only slightly for he can only give minimal aid. Rather he is like a Father who, knowing how tired and weary we are on the journey, picks us up, carries us along, and brings us safely home. We are in great need; he greatly supplies. And this he does, not only once, as if we each have only one phone-a-heavenly-Father call we can make and we better make sure we use it at precisely the right time. No, but rather he daily bears us up, time and again, throughout the day and also the night.
The night. It is one thing for us to recognize the Lord's aid and support throughout the day when we are conscious of our surroundings, our internal struggles, and aware of his presence. But he bears us along even in the darkness of the night. It is not the case that when our eyes close in sleep, he exhales loudly, grateful for that part of his work to be done for the day. His provision and care extend into the night, both to those who sleep and to those for whom sleep is fleeting.
A prayer offered during Compline, that hour of prayer before we pass into the depths of the night, is a prayer for the Lord to bear us up. "Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love’s sake. Amen."
"Yours is the day O Lord, yours also the night." (Ps 74:16). May it be, that as we traverse each day and prepare for repose in the night, that these three words–bear us up–may be our prayer, both for ourselves and for others.
Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation.
Grace & Peace
The Presence of Refuge
"Our help is in the name of the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth." So concludes Ps 124 which is also the opening response in Compline, that hour of prayer wherein we commit ourselves and each other to the Lord's care throughout the night. Confessing that your help is in the name of the Lord, and none other, is language of refuge, the language of the refugee, the language of those fleeing to the Lord for the storm is far too great. Yet, the storm is not too great for him.
Often times we may think of refuge in terms of a secure stronghold or a safe haven, and indeed there is biblical language for those images (e.g. Ps 31, 91). But such are not the only expressions of the refuge the Lord provides. In the calming of the storm, Jesus quieted the wind and waves, but there already was a greater refuge given to the fearful disciples, screaming and scrambling in the boat. That refuge was (and is) only this: God with his people, for his presence is refuge. For though turbulent waves come over the boat, if the maker of heaven and earth be there, the wind and waves must obey him. This is true for the physical, material world, for it is the work of his hands. It is also true for that other part of life, the domain of the affections, the soul, the world of the heart, for He has also formed and fashioned it.
It is good to seek that type of refuge wherein we are sheltered from the wind and rain, where we are warm, comfortable, and well fed. But when, in the Lord's providence, he sees fit to keep us in the rain far longer than we would prefer, perhaps even to the point where we think we will break, even there may we find our refuge in him. May his presence be your refuge.
Grace & Peace
Dispelling Clouds of Darkness
Worry and anxiety can drive a person in all sorts of directions, and drive them further from God. This is its design and nature, at least in part. For it fragments and fractures the resolve, confidence, and certitude of a person with, at times, baseless claims. It does not much matter what the claim is; if it provokes doubt and discouragement then worry has won the day. This isn't all that new.
Paul wrote to the churches in Thessalonica where it appears some had stirred them up with doubt and anxiety by suggesting that the Lord Jesus had already returned to take his own (2 Thess 2). This indeed would have created quite the anxious situation which could easily promote despair. Paul warns them against despair and encourages them that Jesus had not yet gathered his own. More than this, he wisely exhorts them to refrain from idleness, going so far as to say those who do not work, should not eat! (3:10). It can certainly be the case that some in those communities were actively and intentionally misleading others into idleness: "eat, drink, be merry for Jesus came and we missed him!" It may also have been the case that for others, the whispers of worry began to create fissures in their hearts, try as they might to stop them.
So it may be with some of us. The stresses of our current circumstances may foment worry or anxiety, leading us to idleness or to be frantically accomplishing nothing, all of which drives us away from God and can draw us away from his Church.
For those of you who know others who are anxious, "encourage one another and build one another up...encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all" says Paul (1 Thess 5:11, 14). A simple and kind word can do much good, prayers as well. For those who are anxious or fearful–such things are understandable–confide in a friend, spouse, housemate, etc. (I am always available, too.) Do not keep disruptive things in the dark where they can only do more damage. But also daily draw near to the light of God through prayer and his Word. I was reminded yesterday at Vespers by another parishioner how centering those 30 mins can be. We do simple things: pray and read Scripture. And the Lord delights to do great things through simple means.
"Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will do it." (1 Thess 5:23-24)
Grace & Peace