Sacred Ground

Lent Day 4 Saturday, February 25, 2012

 'I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.  The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.

John 17:20-26

There are reportedly 38,000 different denominations within the Christian faith.  The church has undergone schism after schism.  A schism is defined as  a division or a split, usually between people belonging to an organization or movement, most frequently applied to a break of communion between two sections of Christianity that were previously a single body.  This is not a new phenomenon.    There was the Great Schism of 1054, which resulted in the split between the Eastern and Wetern Christian Churches.  Then there was The Great Western Schism between the years of 1378 - 1417, which was resolved by the Council of Constance in 1414-1418.  The Reformation brought about more schism in the 16th century.

How then do we reconcile ourselves to the passage from John?  Here, I think, we need to fall back on love.  We sometimes forget that Christianity is about following a way of life, a way defined by Jesus of Nazareth.  The way of life is concerned with two basic principles:  love of God and love of neighbor.  Most likely there will never be a time when all denominations of Christians are of one mind with regard to doctrine, scriptural interpretation, ministry roles, or church practice.  We should, however, remember to love.  And with loving God and eachother, there should be a component of mercy and forgiveness that comes with it.  Maybe if we so focussed on serving others, we would find a place of common ground.  For, here is the goal:  That the world may believe that God sent Jesus to show us the way to God.

Here is the challenge:  find one or two people that are currently in your life that you have a hard time loving, Christian or non-Christian, it doesn't really matter.  Then, explore ways of serving them:  pray for them, learn about their lives, listen to their opinions, forgive them their sharp edges, take them out for coffee.  Once we learn to practice this kind of love, it is easier to extend it to other people that we come across.  As individuals we cannot heal all the brokenness in this world, but we can build one bridge at a time.

Lent Day 3 Friday, Feb 24, 2012

Whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Phillipians 4:8

Bad news sells.  Top stories for Tulsa on Feb. 23 included the man arrested for starting fires, the death of a homecoming queen, and a man accused of threatening to blow up DHS with a Ryder Truck.  None of the headlines offered any good news.  Why?  Would we rather hear of tragedy, so that our lives look good in comparison?  Are we uninterested as a society in hearing about good samaritans, or lives that have been changed for the better, or someone who is working to improve the lives of others?  Or do we just want our basic inner pessimism to be bolstered?

In his letter to the Phillipians, Paul encourages the people of God to reflect on things that are true, honorable, just, pure and commendable.  But, why?  A friend of mine is fond of saying to people who are speaking critically to one another:  "Now, is that life giving?"  Life giving - that is what we are to be about.  If we focus on all the negatives in our world, in politics, in our environment, in our cities and homes, our spirit's are denied good life giving food.  We need to focus on the work that is being done around us that is positive.  Discover the people in your life who are bringing about change - in education, in human rights, in building God's Kingdom, in helping the disabled, in government.  Listen to their stories and be encouraged!  Of course, we can't deny that there is evil and corruption in the world.  There is sadness, greed, disease, and disaster all around us.  But, it is harder to change this world when we are filled with dread and negativity, than when we continually hold on to the good. 

Dear God,  help us to see your hand in the world about us.  And help us to join in to that work, trusting in you to bring out the good in every situation.

 

Thursday after Ash Wednesday February 23, 2012

Though the fig tree does not bud
   and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
   and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
   and no cattle in the stalls, 
yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
   I will be joyful in God my Savior.

Habakkuk 3:17-18

 Habakkuk is one of the 12 books of prophets in the Old Testament scripture.  Less is known about this writer than any other Old Testament writer.  He lived in the 7th century before Jesus.  The book is a conversation between the prophet and God, in which Habakkuk learns to put his trust in God even when he doesn't fully understand the whole plan.

We might feel that since he lived so long ago, how could his words have any meaning for us today?  How could he understand the complexity of our world and the difficulties that we face?  His words for today call us to praise and give thanks to God even when times are hard.  If we are honest with ourselves, we would have to admit that in times of trouble we are more inclined to blame God, instead of praise God.

And, yet, what happens when we enter into praise?  If you can imagine for a moment the great courtyard where the presence of God dwells.  It is surrounded by a towering wall, with a gate.  The gate is open to anyone who desires to enter.  Those who are caught up in complaining and blaming God for their circumstances fail to see the opening in the wall.  On the other hand, if we can walk through carrying our pain and problems, but lifting up our prayers of thanksgiving and praise, something changes.  Our situation may remain unaltered, but we are changed.

Whenever we dare to let ourselves be lifted up in worship and praise, we open ourselves to joy.  Leave the complaining behind today and spend this day praising God and taking time out to give God thanks.

 

Reflection for Ash Wednesday Feb 22, 2012

It is the start of another season of Lent.  I don't remember a time when I didn't participate in Lent.  It is part of me and of my family's DNA.   For those of us who grew up with these traditions, it is often with astonishment when we hear anyone say, "Lent?  I never heard of it."  For those of you who are reading this and have never journeyed toward Easter following a season of fasting, I hope you will take the opportunity this year.  Today is Ash Wednesday, the day that marks the beginning of the church's penitential season.  Ash Wednesday comes with the invitation to keep a holy Lent - with fasting and self examination and self denial.  As well as, of course, the sign of ashes on our foreheads - death before resurrection. 

One of the readings for Ash Wednesday is from Isaiah 58.  Here is a portion of that reading:

If you remove the yoke from among you,
the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,
if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.
The LORD will guide you continually,
and satisfy your needs in parched places,
and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water,
whose waters never fail.
Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
the restorer of streets to live in.

This vision of Isaiah is one way to look at our journey in Lent.  We are the ones called to remove heavy burdens from other people, to offer food for the journey, to be light in the darkness and water to the parched.  Lent is about changing the focus of our vision - less of ourselves, more of each other.   I think it would be amazing to be called a repairer of the breach!  Much in our lives is in need of repair - we live with broken promises, compromised relationships, destroyed trust.  And yet, there is always the hope of restoration.  Walk this season of Lent with the intention of becoming one who restores and see where the God of hope will lead you.

The last bit of Christmas

The house is peaceful.  The boys are away with their Dad getting haircuts.  The dog and cats are sleeping.  There is jazz playing quietly.  This should be a time of relaxing for me.  Instead, it is an emotional rollercoaster - I am putting away the outward signs of Christmas.  The tree came down already - ornaments packed and stacked.  Tree dissassembled and squashed back into the box in the garage.  Now it is time for the rest to be put away - the snowglobes, the glittery mantle tree and tall yulebuck, the nativities and gold painted pinecones.  I find myself gripped by melancholy.  

It never used to bother me to return the house to its pre-Christmas state.  I was and am always eager for the end of winter and the first signs of spring.  But now it does.  I think about the people who made Christmas special for me as a child, and wish they were closer.  I think of my Grandparents who are no longer on this earth.  Especially, I remember my Grandmother Gardlund.  She liked to take Christmas down right away.  For her, it was not an act of anticipating spring.  I believe she took the decorations down because they reminded her of people who were now far away.   The grandkids had gone home, some nearby, but some not so close.  Her daughters were back to work.  Her son gone home to Michigan.  Christmas reminds us of family and laughter and happiness - but it also reminds us of endings and goodbyes.  I'm not as good at good-byes as I use to be.

And time is relentless.  I see the paper ornaments from four Christmases ago that my children made - their handprints look impossibly small.  And I know that Christmas at home with them as joyous, crazy kids will not last forever.  As much as we strive to recreate Christmas and memories of the past every year, it is always different.  Kids grow up.  Members of the family die.  And new members are brought in.  The hard part, for me, is allowing all this to be okay.  Life shouldn't be stagnate and static.  It should be about movement, light, growth and change.  But I still want to be in charge of the changes!  So frustrating that I am not.

I put away the Advent calendar my Grandma and Pop-pop Smith sent my husband and I when we were first married.  We didn't have kids, yet.  But, they were always hopeful we would have children soon.  My mind wanders back to the excitement of going to the airport to meet Grandma and Pop-pop when I was very young.  Grandma always had the heaviest suitcase and Pop-pop had hidden treasures in the pockets of his big overcoat.  

Christmas at home in Michigan meant snow - usually - and fires in the fireplace - always.  I loved the thrill of the cold air rushing into the family room when Dad went outside to get firewood.  He would bring it in and then roll newspapers into logs for kindling.  We would sit with our backs to the fire to get warm - and still our toes would be cold.  Home or away from home for Christmas meant church on Christmas eve and Christmas morning.  It meant candy and big dinners and time to read by the fire.  Mom would bring out the record player and we would decorate the tree to music of Christmas carols.  One Christmas the pipes froze and we spent a good portion of the day with hair driers trying to warm the pipes inside - while Dad did mysterious things to the pipes outside.  

I can't go back and live it all again.  And, I can't hold on to this year's Christmas - as lovely and as joy filled as it was.   We live in the light of hope.   And hope looks forward.  So I will put away the vestiges of Christmas with love in my heart and allow the melancholy to be dispelled by God's grace.  

 

 

 

Deliver us from dying suddenly and unprepared

Some days bring more than their share of sadness.  Today I officiated at the funeral of a young man, 18 years old, shot to death by a family member.  I didn't know the young man and I barely knew the family.  They belong to a different Episcopal church that does not currently have a priest.  But, this young man was known to many in the community.  The church was full of family and friends.  It was also full of a enormous range of emotion.

I think there is a special wisdom in the Great Litany of the Episcopal Church when we pray that the Good Lord would deliver us "from all oppression, conspiracy, and rebellion; from violence, battle, and murder; and from dying suddenly and unprepared."  This young man died suddenly and unprepared.   For him, his life on earth was ended too soon, yet, he is now whole and with God in heaven.  What is left that is so devastating, is the impact his death is having on the people who loved him.

At his funeral, there was naturally, plenty of grief and sorrow.  There was a starkness to the expressions on the people in the congregation.  And, there was some raw anger.  Funerals (and weddings) tend to bring out the dysfunction in families.  Where there is unhealed brokenness and unreconciled hurt, this can be overwhelming.  Instead of coming together and grieving, members of the family find an outlet to their grief by deepening the alienation that already exists.  And words of peace and comfort,  instead of providing a cushion for the soul, fall like drops of ice on hard, frozen earth.

This makes me consider, very carefully, the relationships in my own family that are important to maintain.  I cannot lay claim to perfection when it comes to family relationships.  We are separated by distance and experience.  And some of that separation comes from hurt feelings - by things said and not said, things done and left undone.  It is often so hard to forgive certain things, not only directed against ourselves, but that which has hurt those we love.  However, there is a standard of living to which we are called:

If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all people  (Romans 12:18).

It may not seem to be so important for you today to be in harmony with your family and others close to you.  But, life is fragile.  We don't know what is coming tomorrow.  Maybe we should keep near our thoughts this prayer, also from the Great Litany:

That it may please thee to give us true repentance; to forgive us all our sins, negligences, and ignorances; and to endue us with the grace of thy Holy Spirit to amend our lives according to thy holy Word.

We do beseech thee to hear us, Good Lord.

 

 

 

 

The Spirituality of Certain Places

We are standing on holy ground.  And I know that there are angels all around.

There are many places on this earth that feel holy to me, where God seems somehow closer.  These places are sometimes called "thin places"  where the veil between this world and that greater reality of the presence of God seems transparent.   It is as if you could just about touch the edge of heaven.   I feel this way often in sacred places of worship - places where people have sang and prayed and worshipped God with all of their heart.

I feel this too during communion, when the ancient practice of blessing and sharing a meal seem to echo through the ages.  There is mystery and joy, completeness and peace.  Often, when we gather around someone who is dying, and we pray that he or she would go with God, there is that sense that the things unseen are far more real than anything we can see with our eyes.  It is frightening and comforting simultaneously.

I think also of places where I have felt great love:  my home;  the homes of my parents and grandparents; places where I have had holy conversations; space made sacred by the love of God and of neighbor.  These places still feel sacred to me, even when the occupants are gone.

Just about any clear stretch of beach, where the ocean waves pound and the seagulls cry, that too is holy.  As is the top of a mountain peak covered with tall pine and sprinkled with wild flowers and refreshed with the run off from melting snow and ice. Anywhere that reminds me of my own insignificance compared to the majesty of God.  Anywhere where the Spirit blows away the remnants of harsh words and brings the healing of a kindness unasked.  

I think God wants us to find these places.  If we seek to make sense of this life we are living, we need holy places.  Places that remind us of our hope for something greater.  Of our desire to be the person we are called to be.  Whether it be in the context of a community at prayer and worship, or in the midst of those who love you, or in the beauty of a place that calls to your soul:  seek after it.  And be sure that wherever that place is for you, God is already there.

Out of step and Benjamin Button

My husband and I recently watched "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," a movie based loosely on the story by F. Scott Fitzgerald.   Moments from that movie have been lurking around my brain ever since.  The premise of the story is that because of a clock set to run backward, a child was born who was destined to live his life in reverse.  His body started old and became young, while his mind and personality developed normally.  He was perpetually out of sync with the rest of humanity.  While young he couldn't play with the other kids because of the advanced age of his body.  He grew up with a girl who became his greatest love.  But, they had only a short time together as he grew younger and she grew older.  It was a very painful story of love and age and youth.  

This fictional story has echoes of reality about it.  It strikes me that many people live lives that are out of step with those around them.  I am thinking about those who are mentally ill or who have been born with a severe disability.  I also think particularly about a friend of mine, Sarah, who has brain cancer.

Sarah is a few years older than I.  She is warm hearted and good natured.  She likes to organize events and to be surrounded by family and friends.  She has a loving family, parents who love her, a brother and sister who are both married with kids of their own.  But, for her, the last two decades have been spent battling cancer.  Most of my time with Sarah has been spent while visiting her in various hospitals or skilled nursing centers.   I have never heard her whine, but I have heard her wistful.

The greatest desire of her life was to have a family of her own:  a husband and children.  It is with joy and regret that she sees her nieces and nephews.  This part of life has been denied her.  Her cancer is back with a vengeance and it is unlikely that she will live much longer.  And this fills me with inexplicable sadness.  I saw her in the ICU a day or so ago.  She hasn't been able to talk for a couple of weeks.  I don't know what she is thinking, but I see her eyes follow me across the room.  Just looking.  Seems like the very essence of who she is wants to be free from the prison of her body.  A body that has betrayed her.

I don't want her to die.  I want her to have that life that she wished to have.  I want her to see the sunshine and walk under the blue sky and feel the wind touch her cheek.  I want her to hold hands with the love of her life and kiss her babies to sleep.  It is hard to die when life here is unfinished.

The other day I presided at a funeral for a woman who was in her 90s.  She had chosen the passage from scripture that speaks of Jesus at the tomb of his friend Lazarus.  Martha says to him, in essence, if you had been around my brother would not have died.  Where were you Jesus?  Jesus reminds Mary of the resurrection and life that is found in God.  And he weeps.  

Jesus knew more than anyone the pain of death and grief.  He saw the way disease and infirmity separated people from living "normal" lives.  I wonder if he felt the weight of all the sorrow of this life.  I wonder if he sensed the bitterness of the tears of those who would mourn the loss of loved ones in the years to come.  I wonder if he knew how many tears would fall on his own behalf.  He, too, led a life out of sync with those around him.  He led a life pulled by the presence of God.  Yet, he laughed and made friends and taught and healed and changed the world.

I hope Sarah knows that she too has changed the world.  She has brought laughter and joy to her family and friends.  She has brought healing and taught patience to those around her.  It was not the life she would have chosen for herself, but it is her own.  And, I am the better for knowing her.

 

I Honor You

There are certain words that are weighted with such overwhelming importance, that they ought to be reserved for very special occasions.  We should become used to saying "I love you" or "I forgive you" or "I'm sorry."  Those words do so much towards creating and maintaining relationships.  But, there are other words that need to be used with care.

The other night I presided at a wedding.  I love weddings!  There are few privileges given clergy, I feel, which equal that of witnessing up close the exchange of promises and the intensity of feeling present at a marriage service.  Of course, weddings do bring out interesting family dynamics, for better of for worse.  But, whatever else may be going on, when two people commit themselves to each other, until death do they part, that moment takes precedence.

At this particular wedding, the bride and groom made a deep impact on my memory.  They were good looking, intelligent, and motivated.  But, many young couples fall into those categories.  What caught me was the depth of feeling that rose to the surface from the very controlled and analytical groom.  He was the one who was always preparing for the future.  He invests wisely and plans things out, from work to vacation.  But, he never shows an over-abundance of emotion.  His bride, on the other hand, is often passionate and spontaneous and, yes, emotional.  That night, however, she had no problem sailing through the service, smiling, calm and cool, handing her soon to be husband tissue after tissue, because he stood there and wept.

I wasn't sure he was going to get the words out for the vows.  It took tremendous effort on his part to repeat after me.  And then, we got to the loaded verse:  with all that I have, and all that I am, I honor you.  This was so soul shaking for him, I could almost feel the intensity of his effort to say the words.  And say them, he did.  And he meant them.  He was pledging himself to her with no holding back.  

I honor you.  I hold you in great reverence.  I love you more than I do myself.  

There were only two times that this 27 year old man had cried since childhood.  The first time was in sadness a year previous saying good-bye to his grandmother.  The second, because of the great joy in marrying the one person who completed him, was on his wedding day.  

Thanks be to God.

Remember to Breathe

Being a preacher, I have this habit of looking for metaphors and parables in the world around me, all the time.  My most recent experience with this phenomenon took place while doing round kicks.  This, being a rather new practice, had me concentrating more on actually hitting the bag, than, well, breathing.  Mr. Potter, my instructor called out often, "remember to breath."  I think he was concerned that I might pass out.  Which, besides being embarrassing, would have totally defeated the purpose of working out.  It is proven to be very hard to get anything out of a work out while passed out on the floor.  So, I try very intentionally to remember to breath.

But, hold on, why should I have to?  I mean, we all come into the world knowing how to breathe, right?  After we scream and kick and breathe in air for the first time, this breathing becomes automatic.  No one has to teach us how to breathe.  We just do.  However, as with so much in this life, it is the quality and intensity of the action or thought or desire, that makes the difference.

I remember 5 years ago fighting a serious case of pneumonia.  It hurt to breath.  Every breath caused me to cough uncontrollably and painfully.  I spent several days in the hospital and many weeks recovering.  Since then, I wonder if I have been unconsciously, breathing shallow.  Holding back from breathing deeply.  Maybe we do sometimes need to be reminded to breathe.

So, I have been working on it.  Not just when I am doing round kicks!  I try focussing on breathing when my kids are arguing pointlessly in the back seat.   I breathe deeply while in prayer or when listening.  I breathe slowly when I am feeling anxious or angry or frustrated.  I walk with the dog at dusk and practice: breathing.

And, in between the breaths I take, I pray that the Spirit of God is teaching my spirit how to breathe. How do we keep from living tentatively into the way of the Cross?  By letting our spirit breathe in new life.  It is a healing breath, this breath of God, that mends the broken places in our souls.  This wind brings mercy and forgiveness and love.  God's Spirit carries encouragement, wisdom, peace and challenge as well.  Following God is not automatic.  We make choices everyday that reflect, positively or negatively, upon our relationship with God.  To bring about the Kingdom of God on earth takes practice and intention.  We do not do this on our own.  We breathe with God.