Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Readings: Psalms 119:49-72, 49; Gen. 37:25-36; 1 Cor. 2:1-13; Mark 1:29-45

Selected Readings:

From 1 Cor. 2:1-13: “What no eye has seen; nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him—these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit.”

From: Mark 1: 29-45:  “See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses commended as a testimony to them.”

I once wrote a poem titled “The Evidence of Things Unseen,” which suggests that our only perception of wind, breath, spirit, and love was through the things—or us—whom they affected.  Another way of looking at this is that in noticing the physical effects, we are drawn to the mystery of that invisible force or spirit behind these phenomena. 

I am struck by the same theme in the passages excerpted above, which I think are particularly meaningful for the season of Lent—how we perceive the Spirit at work in our lives and in the details, which we experience during our time in the “desert.”

According to Paul in his letter to the Corinthians, it is only through the Holy Spirit—the Spirit of God—that we may understand “the gifts bestowed upon us by God.” And, in fact, we even speak of these gifts in “words taught by the Spirit.” Indeed, it is a in a new “language” that heretofore the ear had not heard nor the human heart conceived. 

Similarly in the passage from Mark, evidence of the Spirit at work is the miracles—Jesus’ healing the ill and casting out demons.  He even admonishes the healed leper to follow Moses’ teaching (i.e., spiritual laws) as testimony of his cleansing. 

As we experience those “thin places,” as Rich referred to in a recent sermon, may we recognize not only the visible—the here and now—but the underlying Spirit, which informs that experience and ourselves during Lent.

(Deborah Johansen Harris)

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

I have long been familiar with the idea that God loves us all equally, no matter what our strengths or weaknesses are. I have grown up being told this, but it wasn’t until recently that it finally sunk in and had some real meaning for me.

Last year, I found myself working on Youth Led Services. We had chosen to use Shrek as the theme and one of the readings for that Sunday was 1 Corinthians 1:26-31. We reworded the reading so that Fiona spoke Paul’s words to all the fairytale creatures. In the service, I acted the part of Fiona and I was the one who delivered the reading. As I spoke to the congregation about the workings of God, I had a profound feeling of purpose. I was speaking to myself as much as to my audience. This was the first time in my life in which it was clear to me exactly what it meant that God loves us unconditionally. 

Since then I have become increasingly involved in the church and have seen God’s love at work: from the members of the mission committee doing their best to help others, to preschoolers so full of innocence and curiosity about the world around them. We are all created in God’s image. We each reflect unique gifts from God.  We need only to open our hearts to see.

(Jacqueline G)

Monday, February 27, 2012

"By this I know you are pleased with me, that my enemy does not triumph over me.  In my integrity you hold me fast, and shall set me before your face for ever." (Ps 41:11-12)

I often wonder what was going on in the mind of Jesus.  How much did he know and understand when he was a twelve-year old boy in the temple?  Did he know what was going to happen as he walked down to the banks of the Jordan River?  Was he amazed or frightened to hear the voice from heaven when he came up out of the water? 'You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.'  How did that make him feel? Another person might have stuck around and basked in the glow of all the attention, but the Spirit would not allow it.  This Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan, because these words from heaven were not a compliment; they were a call.

In a similar way, Joseph is called through his dreams.  While he may have had a notion that God was very pleased with him, there was no saving work in his future without first going through the pit and the prison – the jealousy and the rage.  In the end, it is his integrity that he is rewarded for.  And look at Paul.  People are bragging about being baptized by him; another person would have been flattered!  But that would ruin everything.  He understands that it is not his place to outshine the Christ. “For Christ did not send me to baptize but to proclaim the gospel, and not with eloquent wisdom, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its power.”

It seems that, whenever there is a call there is also an opportunity for temptation – an adversary, an enemy, a deceiver to contend with.  It may be pride, jealousy, flattery or contempt.  Jesus shows us how to be strong in the face of these temptations.  At the end of the forty days, I imagine it is not the words from heaven, but his victory in the desert that prepares him for the years to come.  “By this I know you are pleased with me, that my enemy did not triumph over me.  In my integrity you held me fast, and set me before your face for ever.”

I love this video/cartoon of Jesus in the desert.  Rich shared it last year.  Here it is again in case you haven’t seen it or just want to see it again! Click Here!

(Sue B)

Sunday, February 26, 2012

FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT – February 26, 2012

Readings:  Psalms 63,98; 103; Daniel 9:3-10; Hebrews 2:10-18; John 12:44-50

Lorraine and I personally knew the incredible witness to God’s redeeming love and power, Gert Behanna.  She was born to riches and privilege, but tragically became overpowered by addiction.  Three marriages failed.  She became powerless over alcohol and prescription drugs, the  only “remedy” she knew at that time that would anesthetize her against the utter pain of failure in all aspects of her life. As she reported later in life, her attempt at suicide, which the medical doctors agreed should have killed her, was also another failure. “I couldn’t even succeed at that!”

Her life story was captured in the best seller book and the movie of the same title: “The Late Liz.”  God had not given up on her!!  She came to understand the truth of the Gospel – she was a child of God, loved and redeemed.  Telling her story, she packed overflow crowds into sports stadiums, churches, college campuses, and public auditoriums throughout this country and overseas.  Her life became devoted to praising God and minimizing her own virtues.  As she liked to say, “I’m just an old chipped and broken vessel that God is using to rescue people.”

One of the greatest privileges of my many years of pastoral ministry was allowing myself to be a tool in God’s hands to assist persons in their recovery struggle from addiction.  Each problem drinker wants hope, the deep-down profound hope that Fr. Rich Simpson so magnificently preached about in his February 4/5 sermon.  She or he experiences “hopelessness”, despite protestations to others that “I can quit anytime!” Self-esteem is terribly eroded, and the consequences of repeated failure produces feelings of “I am not a good person.”

Whatever any one of us is addicted to (food, money, sex, power etc), substitute that for alcohol/drugs and God’s redeeming power and love can be your answer.  Gert was a good person, Rich’s brother is a good person.  You and I are good persons, loved by God, despite our transgressions. 

The Daily Office Bible readings for today speak to each of us offering us hope.  Consider these:

•  “I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world.” (John 12:47)
• “To the Lord our God belong mercy and forgiveness.”  (Daniel 9:9)
• “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.” (Ps 103:8)
• “He will judge the world with righteousness, and the peoples with equity.” (Psalm 98:9)
• “As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.” (Ps 103:12)
• “Your steadfast love is better than life.”  (Psalm 63:3)

 Easter proclaims victory!  May this Lent help us to “Let go and let God.”  “Our extremity is God’s opportunity.” 

Dick Hennigar

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Every year I look forward to Lent. There is the sense of anticipation, and there is also something akin to relief. For the next forty days I can stop paddling, slow down, and let the flow of life take me where it will.  I need to just be for a while. 

As I study the readings for today, I can’t help but think of a National Geographic series I have watched recently - "Doomsday Preppers." There is stockpiling of food and weapons, building walls and fortifying homes, target practice and plans for routes of escape. These folks are preparing for the worst that could happen, in what ever form that might take. It brings me thoughts of the myriad ways that people’s lives are driven by fear.  And if you think there is nothing to fear, well think again. There is always something to fear. When I was growing up it was The Communists. In high school it was Nuclear War.  In the last few years it’s been Financial Ruin. And let’s not forget Terrorism and oh yes - Cancer.  The list seems endless at times, and I’m thinking that things haven’t really changed all that much since Ezekiel’s time, David’s time, or Paul’s time. There were floods, famines and pestilence, the Plague, the Babylonians, the Philistines, and the Romans.

And where is God in all of this uncertainty?  Whose side is God on, anyway? How many times does humanity ask that question, and how many times will we assume the answer – that God is precisely where we left Him when we left Home to do our own thing, or when we gave up trying to figure it all out and just started stockpiling…

For this moment, today - I can hear Jesus praying for us sometime before he crosses the Kidron Valley to the Mount of Olives to begin that final chapter of his life. From John 17: 26: “I have made You known to them, and will continue to make You known in order that the love You have for me may be in them, and that I myself may be in them.” The fact that the words are on a page in a book that sits on my shelf in the 21^st century is wondrous; having made the cut, survived all the translations and revisions, they are yet able to convey a simple, powerful truth.

And how can I settle for an impoverished mentality that embraces doomsday and stockpiling when I study the wisdom in the words of Paul’s letter to the Church at Philippi. From Phil. 4: 11-13: “… I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 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. I can do everything through him who gives me strength”

Every year I look forward to Lent, as Jesus keeps that promise and continues to make God known to us, and every year I come a bit closer to embracing the secret of wealth that Paul learned so well.

May you be blessed in your Lenten journey.

(Nancy Rogers)

Friday, February 24, 2012

Ezekiel 18: 1-4, 25-32

Philippians 4: 1-9

"Repent and turn from all your transgressions; otherwise iniquity will be your ruin. Cast away from you all the transgressions that you have committed against me, and get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit. Why will you die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, says the Lord. Turn, then, and live."

Today's reading from Ezekiel strikes me as a very Christian message for an Old Testament writer, and it ends with a powerful line that captures the essence of our Christian faith in a way that I have never quite heard before.

"Turn, then, and live."

Whenever we turn, we set a new direction. We turn away from one thing, and in so doing we turn away from the path laid out in front of us. At the same time, we turn toward something else, set a new direction, and follow a new path.

Ezekiel asks us to turn away from our earthly ways; from our false idols and temptations and from the material demands of this world. He asks us to turn from self absorption, avarice, fear, anger, suspicion and self doubt.

At the same time, Ezekiel asks us to turn toward God, where we will find forgiveness and renewal.

"For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, says the Lord". We are all invited. This suggests that it should be easy to turn; that we merely need to choose the path laid out for us by Jesus. But how do we do that? Why does it seem so hard? Paul helps us with these questions in Philippians:

"The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

"Turn, then, and live."

(Dick Welch)

Thursday, February 23, 2012

My husband and I are one of those couples that come to the Episcopal Church as a result of a “mixed marriage.”  I was brought up in the Congregational Church, with services steeped in the austerity and simplicity of the early New England settlers and church politics and policy endowed with quite a liberal, open philosophy.  Phil was raised in a big Irish Catholic family, with all the ceremony and tradition that that entails. Until meeting me he had very little exposure to any Christian denomination other than his own.  

When we decided to get married we met with both a U.C.C. minister and a Catholic priest (who jointly performed our wedding), but we both felt we needed to find a new path that was comfortable for both of us.  Happily we have found that at St. Francis.  There are still times, of course, when the disparity between our religious backgrounds becomes very clear, and none more so than the season of Lent.  (Christmas is easy; the story is not too confusing and the hymns are the same.)

I know we acknowledged Lent at my Congregational church; the gilt side of the cross above the altar was turned around, the minister wore his purple stole, and the scripture readings and Sunday School lessons progressed accordingly. We had Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday (my favorite service of the whole year); I usually spent Good Friday baking and decorating eggs with my mother, listening to the “Godspell” and “Jesus Christ Superstar” soundtracks; and that brought us up to Easter Sunday quite tidily.  But for my Catholic friends, and my Catholic in-laws, these 40 days seem to matter more than the whole rest of the year; it’s a journey of prayer and penitence and self-denial that culminates in a week-long retelling of  “the greatest story ever told.”  And I am left to wonder, who is doing it right?

The good news is, we all are.  Psalm 37 (billed in my Bible as a Wisdom Psalm on “the certainty of retribution for the wicked”) recognizes the ongoing struggle of the righteous and faithful.  The psalm encourages patience and perseverance in the face of apparent triumph by the wicked: 

“our steps are made firm by the Lord,

when he delights in our way;

though we stumble, we shall not fall headlong,

for the Lord holds us by the hand.”

The road to salvation is a never-ending process; as Yogi Berra would say “it ain’t over till it’s over.”

This sentiment is echoed in Paul’s letter to the Philippians.  Paul admits that he is not there yet either, “but I press on.”  He argues that just because God has given the gift of righteousness we are still obligated to work hard to deserve it.  Like the Psalm, Paul acknowledges that each of us is a work in progress, struggling to attain the “prize of the heavenly call of God.”  

As I worked through these readings, I kept thinking to myself that nobody is perfect, and no one way to God can be the one right way.  We all have to find our own path.  But then I came to the Gospel reading, and remembered that there was one man who did know the way all along, and He is also our Way, whether we are Catholic or Protestant.  In John 17, Jesus seems weary and ready to take the next step on his journey, but even in his remaining hours he is praying for his followers to continue following him.

I confess that I still scratch my head about “giving something up” for Lent, and the whole no-meat-on-Fridays thing, but I am now able to see Lent as more than the story of the last days of Christ: it is a period of preparation, repentance and renewal. And no road is the perfect road; what matters is that we’re trying.  

(Leigh King)     

Ash Wednesday, February 22, 2012

"Jesus also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt."   (Luke 18:9)

The parable Jesus goes on to tell about an arrogant "religious" person and a guy who feels he is not worthy enough to even be in a house of worship might be funny if it wasn't so true. It might be a caricature, except I suspect we all know religious people who do act rather like this Pharisee. And, sadly, we probably also know "publicans" who feel unworthy to ever darken the door of any house of worship.

There is probably at least some small part of us all that has at least some Pharisaical tendencies. Lent gives us an opportunity to work on some of that. Our trust is rightly placed in God, not ourselves. The Torah can be boiled down to love of God and love of neighbor, and the one who views her neighbor with contempt is a long way from love.

But I think many of us also have an inner "publican"--we worry that we are not worthy enough, that we are not good enough. And that makes it difficult for us to hear the good news that we are beloved of God. It turns out, I think, that the parable is richer than it first appears because sometimes we can so focus on trying to be like the publican that we end up resembling the Pharisee: have you ever known anyone who is trying to be so humble that it really is rather arrogant? ("Oh it's not me, I'm a really simple person it's just God choosing to work through me!") Now that may be a very true statement. But I, for one, have heard it said in ways that make me queasy. And on the other side, I have learned that people who sometimes present as arrogant and self-assured are, underneath the mask, very often frightened to death. 

Whatever else this day is about, it is a clarion call to come home. It is a reminder that God's house is a hospital for sinners and there we find a community of sinners who are helping each other take at least a step or two toward becoming "the saints of God."  The beginning of faith is in learning that we need God and we need our neighbor. Our neighbor is there not to be jealous of, or lusted after, or derided, or mocked; but to become a companion along the way.

And so, as I see it, the reminder that we are dust on this day is not a threat. It is simply a reminder that we are human. It serves as a stark reminder that our trust, if well placed, is with God--not in ourselves. It serves to remind us that we are beloved of God already, because even if we are dust we are dust vivified with God's own breath. We don't need to prove ourselves, we just need to be ourselves. It is enough. 

For me, the dust serves as a reminder that the Pharisee and the publican are in fact brothers, and that we are invited to see the image of God in every person we meet - to embrace our neighbors as ourselves: beloved children of God.


(Rich Simpson)