Easter

 O Lord, open our lips/ And our mouths shall proclaim your praise (BCP, pg. 80)

The Office of Morning Prayer begins with a reminder of who God is, and of who we are as God’s people. We are made for praise.

The psalms appointed for this morning (148, 149, 150) all begin and end there. We have been holding it in for forty days now, but no more. Alleluia! Let it out! Like Jesus, bursting forth from the empty tomb, so we awake this day needing to sing again. It has been a long fast from this powerful word! Alleluia, Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed, alleluia! Praise God!

We awake this day to praise God for sun and moon and stars, and for all creatures of our God and king. We awake to sing a new song in the congregation of the faithful. We awake to praise God for God’s mighty acts. We awake with timbrel and harp and loud-clanging cymbals, ready to join the band as instruments of God’s peace. We awake ready to dance. Alleluia!

It is worth noting that today’s trio of psalms brings us to the end of the Psalter, Israel’s Hymnal. Those who pray the psalms know there are other songs the poet sings—because life is full of ups and downs. There are songs we must sing in minor chords and with discordant harmonies because sometimes life is brutally unfair. All duly noted. But having sung those harder songs and knowing that the one who died on Friday has gone to the depths of hell for us—and has even sung those songs with us (“My God, my God…why hast thou forsaken me?”), we boldly proclaim on this morning that sin and death and pain have been vanquished. The victory belongs to God.

There is only one way to respond to the reality of an empty tomb, and that is to make our song. Even at the grave, to make our song: alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! Happy Easter!

Rich Simpson

March 30, 2013

Finding Inner Peace

Psalm 27

I remember reading the Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi, printed on a calendar in the kitchen of my childhood home. I got the part about being good to others, about being an example of God’s grace in difficult times. The prayer goes on to say that in our peaceful actions such as consoling, understanding, and loving others we receive such gifts in return. On the one hand, I see how this prayer helps us to understand the importance of performing acts of kindness because it is one way in which we can externalize the grace God has given us. On the other hand, I think it is difficult to act peacefully when we are troubled or conflicted. It seems to me that I first need to find my inner peace before I can share it with others. In re-reading his prayer, I wonder about what St. Francis makes of inner peace? What are we to do when we find it difficult to feel God’s peace in moments of personal distress? How can we be instruments of peace in the midst of our stressful and fast-paced lives when anxiety, doubt, and tiredness overpower and belittle our inner grace? It’s in these times when I wish St. Francis might have lowered his expectations a little bit, at least for my own sake, and come up with an alternative option or Plan B. What if he had finished his prayer with a tiny little footnote saying something like: “In case you have lost your inner grace and think you can’t handle being an example of peace to others, turn to Psalm 27, immediately!”  I include this psalm because I think St. Francis and David serve as good examples on how to find our inner peace.

In Psalm 27, David is facing trouble and danger from his enemies, especially Saul and his army. In the first few verses of this psalm we learn that David is aware of possible attacks by his “adversaries and foes,” and expects a “war to rise up against” him at any time. Yet, despite all this, he remains confident in the power and shelter of God. David affirms his confidence by saying, “The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” But how is David able to cope with all this danger that surrounds him? What is his secret? David’s answer comes in the form of a request: “One thing I asked of the Lord,” he says, “… to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life….” I suggest there is a lesson in David’s request for us. By asking for an everlasting place in the Lord’s house, David is receiving peace in the form of confidence and hope. By seeking the Lord’s continuous presence, David receives the same inner peace that St. Francis possesses. Both of these men understand that they have little control over danger and uncertainty in troubling times, just like us. At the same time, they show us that the way to overcome the fear and distress that can sometimes overwhelm us is by holding on to the inner peace found in seeking the Lord’s presence. As we prepare ourselves to participate in tomorrow’s Easter feast, let our hearts be filled with the peace the Lord gives, as he promises to remain with us forever.

Esteban Loustaunau

Good Friday

AM Psalm 22; PM Psalm 40:1-14(15-19), 54 

 Wisdom 1:16-2:1,12-22 or Gen. 22:1-14; 1 Peter 1:10-20;

To the leader: according to The Deer of the Dawn. A Psalm of David.


¹ My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
 

Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? 


² O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;
 

and by night, but find no rest.

6 But I am a worm, and not human;
   scorned by others, and despised by the people. 


⁷ All who see me mock at me;
   they make mouths at me, they shake their heads;

Genesis 22:1-14

Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill* his son. ¹¹But the angel of the Lord called to him from heaven, and said, ‘Abraham, Abraham!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ ¹²He said, ‘Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.’

John 13:36-38

36 Simon Peter said to him, ‘Lord, where are you going?’ Jesus answered, ‘Where I am going, you cannot follow me now; but you will follow afterwards.’ ³⁷Peter said to him, ‘Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.’ ³⁸Jesus answered, ‘Will you lay down your life for me? Very truly, I tell you, before the cock crows, you will have denied me three times. ‘

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

As a child, I was always enamored with the story of Christ’s Resurrection because – as any human – who can’t be amazed at the idea of coming back to life after dying?   That is, of course, a great mystery. But in my adulthood, I’ve come to, well, not discard per se, but take in stride (?) to some extent that the Son of God would be able to defeat death. Of course, he would!  He’s God! 

Instead, I’ve become more fascinated with the thought that Jesus – as human – would willingly allow himself to be humiliated, beaten, shunned, disowned, discredited, tortured, made to walk bearing the instrument of his death and then – finally – crucified… for me?

Not only do I – in my humanness – NOT understand how Abraham could willingly kill his son, I do not understand how someone could not raise their hand to protect themself; could not raise their voice to defend themself; could not run to save themselves.

I think of all the times I could have spoken up at some injustice, when I could have stopped someone from berating someone weaker; or the missed opportunities to become more active in some human rights or environmental movement.

I think I would do anything – even die – for my children, but that’s an easy statement to make while they’re healthy and whole. I imagine I would wish to bear their burden if they were stricken with some horrible disease or throw myself in front of a moving car if it would get them out of harm’s way. But this is a decision made in a flash, without forethought or brooding.

But to willingly bear what Jesus bore – for someone as weak as myself?  To know what was coming for years and not be driven mad by its unfairness?  This is beyond my comprehension and this is where faith must take over. This is where my resolve to deserve - and to accept that I am deserving – of His Sacrifice must become stronger than my humanness.

I cannot bear the thought that Jesus might just say to me, “Why have YOU, Kathy, forsaken me?”

Kathleen Dixon

March 28, 2013

Today’s readings:  Psalm 102; Psalm 142; Psalm 143; Jeremiah 20:7-11; 1 Corinthians 10:14-17, 11:27-32; John 17:1-26

I first thought that I wanted to approach this Lenten Devotion by tying together threads from the several scriptural passages I was assigned to read. I thought if I could find a common theme that stretched across the ages and pages of the Bible I was given, that it would somehow reveal a deeper truth than each of the readings taken by itself. So I searched and searched for that common theme. I spent 2 ½ hours searching, first reading each passage over and over, then putting in some serious time on Wikipedia, Biblical interpretation websites, blogs and sermons. I learned quite a lot in those few hours of research. I learned that John 17:1-26 is considered one of the most profound prayers we have from Jesus. I learned that in Jeremiah 20:7-11, he felt cheated by God and experienced agony of faith when the reaction to his ministry was less than positive. By researching Psalm 142, I learned that a Maskil is a set of instructions.

In the end I looked down at my papers with all the notes I had been taking and it was really Psalm 142 that kept speaking to me. It is a prayer from David, when he was in the cave hiding from Saul who was trying to kill him. Perhaps it resonated with me right away as it was a lesson we taught in church school this year. In the story of David and Goliath, David puts his trust in God when he picked up the stones by the stream. That same love and strength is there for us when those giants come up in our lives. We can lean on Jesus and the heavenly Father for help and strength through difficult times. “With my voice I cry to the LORD; …I tell my trouble before him. When my spirit is faint, you know my way.” God wants to hear our voice, to know that we trust in him for the direction of our lives. When life feels at its lowest and you can’t seem to keep it all straight, this would be the time to cry out to God and ask for his guidance. No matter what it is in life – school, choosing a college and/or a profession, raising children, caring for ailing family members or yourself, stress from a job. No matter what it is that gets us down, God is there for us. Turn those problems over to the Lord when it is too much for us to handle. And as Matthew 11:28 states, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” 

Pamela Keagle

March 27, 2013

St. Augustine said, "So these two wills within me, one old, one new, one the servant of the flesh, the other of the spirit, were in conflict and between them they tore my soul apart." There's opposition and conflict. And (ouch!) a torn soul.

And it seems that today's readings say the same thing (or at least they do to me, but I have to admit, it's a theme I'm drawn to). There's the darkness and the light in the Gospel of John. And it may be stretching a bit, but it seems Paul describes opposites, too, when he says, "I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty." Paul, of course, goes on to summarize neatly and surely, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me." Good for you, Paul! Myself, I feel more like Augustine.

Jeremiah says:

5 Thus says the Lord:

Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals

   and make mere flesh their strength,

   whose hearts turn away from the Lord.

6 They shall be like […all kinds of pitiful things.]

7 Blessed are those who trust in the Lord,

   whose trust is the Lord.

8 They shall be like […all beauty and wonder here.]

We live in a polarized world: Right, wrong. Left, right. Feminine, masculine. Black, white. Oh, but there are fifty shades of grey (or so I hear, since I haven’t read that book!). 

We may all be saints and sinners, but frankly, it's hard to admit that and to live and feel that deep conflict. So I pray with Jeremiah, "Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved."

March 26, 2013

Christianity Sounds Pretty Absurd, Doesn't It?

In this post Christian era, we are surrounded with societal voices that tell us that our Christian beliefs are illogical, lack wisdom and constitute evidence that our minds are not tuned into the reality of our modern world. In the views of many in our society, this Christ, this Suffering Servant, who died so that we would not be eternally shamed, is not a god, or is no better than any other god, if there is a god, of course! Our beliefs are foolishness, we are told. Of course, we are told, Jesus could not have been born of a virgin; it would take a miracle for that to happen, and in the world’s wisdom, miracles don’t exist. Of course, we are told, He was not resurrected on the third day after His death on the cross. The dead don’t come back to life. It would take a miracle for that to happen, and in the world’s wisdom, miracles don’t exist! Christianity sounds pretty absurd, doesn’t it?

Those who had selected today’s lectionary seemed to know that we would be facing this battle, just as they did in some fashion. So I segue into today’s reading from Corinthians, where St. Paul is reminding us that “….the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”

Here, St. Paul assures us in that we are not losing our grasp on reality:  

21 For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe. 22 For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, 23 but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling-block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24 but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

From the outside, Christianity sounds pretty absurd, doesn’t it?

In the Gospel reading today, Jesus tries to explain the rationale of his “lifting up,” his impending death, to the crowds:

31 Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. 32 And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people* to myself.’ 33 He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die. 34 The crowd answered him, ‘We have heard from the law that the Messiah* remains for ever. How can you say that the Son of Man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of Man?’ 35 Jesus said to them, ‘The light is with you for a little longer. Walk while you have the light, so that the darkness may not overtake you. If you walk in the darkness, you do not know where you are going. 36 While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.’

To many of them, whatever Jesus was talking about sounded pretty absurd. The Messiah would “remain forever”; why would he be “lifted up”? Jesus “hid from them” after this speech. It’s a physical departure, and yet the fact that he hid leaves us to ponder so much more.

To add another element of support, those who created today’s lectionary, have chosen passages to remind us that this “Gospel” was all promised to us, and prophesied to us, thousands of years ago. They shore up our faith by sending us back in time to help us secure our footing in the “absurd” with the prophetic history in Isaiah.

I treasure many of the passages in Isaiah. They are full of promise for the people “Israel,” yet include all the nations of the world. Today’s reading starts with a “heads up” to “coastlands”, a pseudonym for the nations at the western end of known world in Isaiah’s time. “Pay attention you peoples from far away!” the text exclaims. The text then takes us back to restoration of Israel under the Messiah Servant’s care.

Isaiah has my attention!  My “peoples” came from about as far away as you could get from Isaiah’s home turf. When I think about it, my faith is strengthened by the knowledge that the Messiah has came not only rescue the tribes of the Jewish Nation, He has come came to be a “light to all the nations.” Though we see these plans heavily emphasized throughout Isaiah, it is even more comforting to know that God’s plan wasn’t suddenly “switched up” to include the gentiles. We continually see the promise glimmering at us through fragments of the books of Moses. It includes not just the biological children of Abraham, but all people who are “born of the spirit,” therefore becoming Abraham’s children, that receive this promise. Christians receive the promise, and the outside world looks at this and says, “Christianity sounds pretty absurd, doesn’t it?”

I’m thinking again. Jesus is “a called Servant,” called from before the foundations of the earth. He was called to be a Servant to rescue all of us: rescue us from ourselves, return us to God and bring us home. Faith in God, Christianity in particular, looking in from the outside, sounds pretty absurd, doesn’t it?  I, for one, am grateful for this “absurdity.”

Marje Sullivan

March 25, 2013

Ps 51:1-18

Ps 69 1-23

Jer 12:1-16

Phil 3:1-14

John 12:9-19

“Create in me a clean heart O God and renew a right spirit within me.”

As I was growing up, the core of Lent seemed to be all about guilt and sin - that we were evil from our birth. While there is an element of truth here, it doesn’t seem helpful to focus solely on what was wrong with us. For example, if you continually focus on the rock in the road, you’re bound to run into it. Great, so there’s a rock and you really don’t want to hit it. You need to notice it, but then you need to look to where you should go in order to avoid that rock (a valuable lesson from my driver’s ed teacher). I was drawn to Psalm 51, appointed for today, as I reflected on my faith journey during Lent.

“Do not cast me away from your presence and do not take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore me to the joy of your salvation and sustain in me a willing spirit.”

The verses of this psalm make that transition from focusing on our sinfulness to asking for God’s help in being all that we were created to be – helping us to move beyond our past transgressions, removing the barriers we put up that separate us from the love of God.

I recently discovered the following meditation online based on Psalm 51:

“God of gentle strength and true holiness, we come seeking your blessing on
all gathered here in worship, so that our minds may be unblocked, our hearts
freed from the prison of pride and selfishness; and lips may be unsealed, so
that we may sing, speak and live as your beloved, in your world. You call us
to offer to you our genuine acts of worship and praise; all of which arise from
the brokenness of our living, and the saving and gracious mercy you offer to
all people who turn in faith and repentance to you – their Lord and Saving God.
 Restore to us a joyous willingness, so we may truly acclaim and worship
our God. Amen.”*


* © 2013 Joan Stott – "The Timeless Psalms" RCL Psalm Year C, used with permission.

MaryAnn D.

Palm Sunday, March 24, 2013

Psalms 24,29,103

First Letter of Paul to Timothy 6:12-16

Zechariah  9:9-12; 12:9-11;13:1,7-9

Matthew 21:12-17

I have always loved the Palm Sunday image of Jesus riding on the donkey into Jerusalem, the crowd spreading their cloaks, waving palms fronds, declaring him to be the blessed one who has come in the name of the Lord. It is such an odd image of the Jesus we have come to know throughout in the Gospel accounts of what has taken place prior to this time. He has shown us that he is the determined teacher, the sometimes impatient leader, the gentle healer, the provider of food for all, the rule breaker, the forgiver of sins. In Luke’s description of this scene that we read in the liturgy today Jesus is set upon the donkey by others. He is used to being humble. He is not riding the horse that a warrior would ride. He steps into this uncharacteristic role of “king” because he knows it is time.

The first daily reading from Zechariah has been interpreted by some as the prophetic foreshadowing of this scene. Here comes your king, humble and riding on a donkey. He shall command peace to all nations. “O prisoners of hope today I declare that I will restore to you double.”

In the Gospel Jesus’ next significant moment is his outburst in the temple, turning over the tables of those who were selling offerings and making loans, furious that they have made it a “den of robbers”—presumably these were not honest retailers. He is outraged that the temple of worship has been turned into a marketplace, somewhat like Martin Luther’s outrage at the sale of indulgences so many years later. I can hardly imagine Jesus’ emotions at that time—don’t you guys get it—I’ve come to save you from useless, immoral, greedy, sinful behavior and bring you to the truth of God’s love—and I’m running out of time—I’m going to suffer crucifixion to do this.

Then Jesus calms down, moves into his healing role again. The priests observe him, waiting to pounce, questioning his authority. But it is the children who praise him: “Hosanna to the Son of David.” Jesus responds to the priests, “Have you  never read, ‘Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast brought perfect praise’?” It is telling that this saying is still used in our time to mean that the innocent are the truth tellers. Children see things through clearer eyes and open minds.

In this Holy Week ahead, may we clear our eyes and open our minds like children, to the blessing of salvation. 

March 23, 2013

Do you throw yourself into your work? Or, in the lingo of college basketball’s March Madness, do you “leave it all on the court” by the end of the game? Perhaps a more appropriate question for Lent might be: in our worship, work, and prayers do we present our whole selves to God?

The lectionary readings for this day before the start of Holy Week highlight a tension between two deep emotions: grief and hope. In Babylon the Jews give themselves over to despair while  exiled in a strange land (Psalm 137) and in Bethany friends mourn the death of a beloved (John 11:28-44). Yet we are also invited to see God’s promises: the forgiveness of sins and a new covenant for Israel and Judah (Jeremiah 31:31-34), along with “everyone in disobedience” so we all can receive God’s mercy (Romans 11:32). 

I am trying to imagine how Jesus, divine and human, experienced this tension. In the familiar story of Lazarus’ death and resurrection we might gain some insight. First Jesus encounters Martha, then Mary. They didn’t seem to hold back their distress and regret, each exclaiming, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died” (John 11:32). To me, they seem to bring their whole selves to Jesus and he, too, cries—even though he knew that he would raise Lazarus to life.

Here’s what I wonder: might it be that Jesus wept not only with his friends and for his friends, but because he was more disturbed than he had expected to be when confronting their suffering and grief? The NSRV of John 11:35-38 says that Jesus was “deeply disturbed,” but other translations render the phrase as “he groaned in spirit,” “he was moved with indignation,” “his heart was touched,” or he was “troubled” or even “angry.” These all describe intense, human emotions that can overwhelm even the strong. 

As a prelude to the passion and suffering of Holy Week this episode in Bethany reminds us of Christ’s humanity. How much more intense might have been the emotional pain that arose from his awareness of what he knew was to come? If the grief of friends touched Jesus so deeply (and maybe took him by surprise), would that mean the physical agonies before him would exact more than he expected? Did it all become poignantly, humanly real in that moment?

Jesus brought his whole self to his friends. He presents himself entirely and at all times to his Father who “always hears [him]” (John 11:41-42). 

What about you and me? How do we embrace the emotions of grief and hope? What will it take for us to bring our whole selves to God, especially during Holy Week?  

~Christina Chen

March 22, 2013

Jeremiah 29:4:  ⁴Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon.

When I read this passage I feel a bit like an exile, “at home in the body (but) away from the Lord” as Paul says in 2 Corinthians. It’s a bit sad and lonely to feel like an exile. But God’s message to the exiles was, basically, “bloom where you’re planted!”  Live your lives, build homes, plant gardens, live long and prosper. “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.”  It’s not just about obeying God so we can earn eternal life after we die; we need to participate in God’s eternal life now by making our global city a better place.

Furthermore, don’t listen to the lies of the false prophets. I wonder who they are for us?  In Jeremiah’s time, they were those who promised false hope. They trusted in their nation’s strength and were certain that the Lord was on their side even though they were living in a way that was not pleasing to the Lord. They prophesied the thoughts and wishes of their own hearts rather than seeking to do God’s will. It’s certainly much easier and more comfortable that way, but it doesn’t do much for your relationship with God or with others. In the words of Anne Lamott, “You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” 

So we need to be discerning, and we need to seek God’s will rather than our own. That’s not an easy task in a world full of information and opinions. Who is our Jeremiah?  Who is speaking the hard truths?  It may seem a bit naïve, but it is my hope that our spirit, God’s Holy Spirit within us, knows God’s voice when we hear it. God’s promise to us while we are in exile is wonderful and hopeful, but it is conditional; an “if…then” statement:        

Jeremiah 29: 11-13: ¹¹For 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. ¹²Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. ¹³When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart.

The Lord has promised good to us. His word our hope secures. Take a moment and let this child bless your heart:

http://www.youtube.com/user/strongtower27

March 21, 2013

 Readings for the Day

AM Psalm 131, 132, [133]; PM Psalm 140, 142  
Jer. 26:1-16; Rom. 11:1-12; John 10:19-42

Thus says the Lord: Stand in the court of the Lord’s house, and speak to all the cities of Judah that come to worship in the house of the Lord; speak to them all the words that I command you; do not hold back a word. It may be that they will listen, all of them, and will turn from their evil way, that I may change my mind about the disaster that I intend to bring on them because of their evil doings.

Jeremiah 26:2-4 (NRSV)

We often speak of God as unchanging and steadfast. God as ever present in times of trouble. God as Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. And all of those are truthful and valid ways to speak of God. Indeed, it is these ways of thinking of God and understanding God that help us to know God is always with us and is the one constant we can rely on in a world that is often swirling chaotically with change all around us.

And so when the conversation turns and we begin to talk about God changing we can get uncomfortable or nervous. So much so that it can be hard to wrap our heads around this idea. How could God change? If God can change what do I have to rely on? How can I be sure of anything if even God can change?

To me the fact that God is open to change gives me hope. It means that God’s creativity is ongoing. It means that God is always doing something new and that God never gives up on us. It means that God is always at work in our lives and world in surprising ways and in surprising places so that we can never tell where we will find God showing up next.

It is that good news I heard when I read today’s reading from Jeremiah and saw that the Lord told the prophet Jeremiah to go speak to the people of Judah. The Lord didn’t send Jeremiah to deliver a message of certain disaster to them. The Lord sent Jeremiah with a message of warning, hoping that the people would hear the message and change their ways so that God could change God’s mind about punishing them. Yes, that’s right, so God could change God’s mind. God wanted a future for the people of Judah other than the one their ways of sin had condemned them to. God knew the people had sinned and knew they needed to be punished if they insisted on staying on the same path, but God held out hope that they could and would divert from that path. God sent Jeremiah because God hoped that they would change so that God could change what God had in store for them and instead of punishment offer them a more hopeful future.

In Lent when we are so focused on our sin and brokenness this gives us a message of hope. It reminds us that when we have turned from God and God’s ways we can always turn back. A single or even multiple mistakes in life don’t mean that our future is then set in stone and we can’t change or find our way back to God. God believes we can change. In fact, God hopes that we will and so always offers us the opportunity to turn back to God and be made new each and every time we wander and stray from God’s ways.

The following video tells the story of a young man who was told he would never change from the path he was on. He didn’t believe it. Instead he did change. His future is different than the one envisioned for him by the judge who doubted in his ability to change. And now he wants others to know that there is a chance for change for them, too.

We can always change. Some may doubt our ability to change, but God believes we can. We need to believe it, too. We need to believe that there is always hope for change. We need to believe that in God there is always hope in change.

- Karen Safstrom

March 20, 2013

Romans 10:14-21 reads:

14 But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? ¹⁵And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent? As it is written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!’ ¹⁶But not all have obeyed the good news;^* for Isaiah says, ‘Lord, who has believed our message?’ ¹⁷So faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ.^*

This concept often perplexes me. How do we teach someone how to believe?

I am always surprised when I meet a kid who doesn’t know about God (and by God I mean the great higher power of all faiths). As a cradle Episcopalian I can’t relate. For me, having God in my life is akin to breathing. Yet many of my kids’ friends have never been to church, live in families where religion simply plays no part, in a world largely disconnected from spirituality. My adult friends run the gamut, both by themselves and for their children and families…some are lifelong followers, others are seekers without a spiritual home, others have no formal belief system at all.

When people don’t have God in their lives, I am deeply saddened at what they are missing. I generally keep my ears tuned to messages of belief and confusion, and gently enter into conversations about this because, well, I like to. I think it’s so very important to live our faith. I find this REALLY important when I hear a child who has no idea who God is.

Sometimes we have heard the lessons, had the conversations, and modeled belief and faith, and still we don’t know for sure if we’ve had any impact. Teenagers often struggle spiritually, and mine certainly do. While it can be hard to trust that anything can reach them, sometimes we find beautiful surprises.

I am “friends” on Facebook with my 17-year-old son’s guitar teacher. He has been taking private lessons for several years, and we have greatly valued Troy’s mentorship. Recently Troy posted this on his status:

Down on one knee this morning (like every morning) thanking the Lord for entrusting me with the education of around 80 fine musicians. A handful of beginners, mostly intermediate/advanced, and even a few pros. From Him, through me, to each and every student :)

I’d known that Troy was a person of faith, and I am always happy when he writes an occasional spiritual post. This one I loved, so I “liked” it. The best part of all was that when I did so, I found that my son had also done the same.

The subtle hand of God works wonders.

LMC