Believe

Take the leap of faith:

Believing is not seeing, 

Embrace mystery.

(Photo: Near Point Imperial, Grand Canyon, 9/25/11)

Faith

Deep, deep in the earth

The slumbering autumn seed

Starts germinating.

With warm earth, fresh rain

Its roots begin to take hold.

Life breaks through the soil.

(Photo: Armadale, Isle of Skye in Scotland, May 2016)

Breathe in Us

A perfect photograph for a post titled "Breathe" might have been that wisp of air flowing out of someone's mouth - someone's breath - on a cold day such as the one we have today.

But, I returned moments ago from "Conversations with the Bishop," a gathering specifically for young people for the purpose of engaging in dialogue with the bishop about faith. I think it is safe to say that everyone of us felt a Holy Breath moving, breathing through all of us. I had goosebumps more than once. The photograph I'm using for "Breathe" is of the group that met today - a perfect picture for "Breathe."

I breathe -
I feel the breath move into the depth of my being as I inhale
Down, down through my whole body,
And feel its power expelled as I exhale,
Sending it out on words, songs, laughter, sighs, prayer
A continuous cycle, bringing life in and sending life out.

Together we breathe -
Holy breath swirling, growing, dancing in and through us
In stories that would make you weep for joy
In actions that speak louder than words

Breathe in us this day,
Make our breath holy.


 ~ With thanks to Ashley, Emily, Sam, Garrett, Bruce, Autumn, Matt, Colleen, Laraine, Meeghan and Kristin

[Other "B" words for prayer: blesses us, birthed in us...what are your "b" words?]

Vespers Prayer

(I probably wrote about this prayer last year; but, it is a favorite of mine from Vespers).

O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending...

    Are you calling to us, God? To what are you calling us? The future is uncertain, the church as we know it is radically changing right before our very eyes. What new thing are you breathing life into? 

...by paths as yet untrodden... 

    No one has taken a road quite like this before. How will we get there if there is no path?

...through perils unknown...

    Dangers. There will be danger. Anger. Failure. Defeat. They all could be waiting for us. It is hard not to be afraid...

...Give us faith to go out with good courage....

   But, there it is. Faith. Faith is the net that supports us, the arms that surround us, the eyes that point the way.

...not knowing where we go....

    Trusting. Leaning on God's promises. Where will we go?

...but only that your hand is leading us...

    Yes! Your hand, God. Leading. Lifting us up when we fall. Pulling us along when we falter. Guiding us along the way.

...and your love supporting us...

    Most importantly - that love - YOUR love, Lord. Perfect love.

...through Jesus Christ our Lord...

    (Who has been through this before on the road to Calvary.)

Amen

    Resurrection comes at last!

Only

O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Tonight was the last of our Wednesday Lenten services. We have been using Holden Evening Prayer - and we say this pray towards the end of the service.

I have always liked this prayer. Something about the way the words flow. The way they sound. The pauses between the phrases, like breathing deeply. I do not think I would change a single phrase or a single word.

The words that jump out at me most are "but only." There is so much going on around us, so much uncertainty. The only thing we know with any certainty is that God is there with us on the journey.

I had a brief conversation with a colleague the other day at a meeting I scheduled for volunteers who will be leading a world hunger lock-in this summer for youth. We had just finished playing a game of Monopoly - a simulation game where it demonstrates that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. We both commiserated over the fact that life today really seems worse. "I've never seen it this bad," he said to me. "And I don't think it has anything to do with my age." At the moment, I agreed.

But, I did not (and do not) stay in that "dark place" very long. I know there have been difficult days in the past; there will be difficult days in the future. There are always "unknown perils." And - what if. What if the days are growing more dangerous, more grim?

I only have to say the last sentence of this prayer; these words really get to me, deep into the core of my being:  We do not know where we go, "but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us."

I do not need much more than that. That is the only comfort I need!

Waiting

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word, I hope; my soul waits for the LORD more than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning. Psalm 130:5-6


Little one has said her prayers
Hours ago, hours ago
But her tiny body
Tosses and turns:
   Fire, did she smell fire?
   Are those eyes of a monster by her curtains?
   What of the witch that waits under her bed?

At college, she feels the emptiness
In her heart, like a weight
Pulling her down into the abyss
The evening minutes pass
Slowly.
   What is life about, really?
   What is out there for her?
   What is this invisible burden she feels?

New mother in the maternity ward
Joyful - yes, because of her new son.
But, such sorrow, too.
She gazes through the hospital window
Into the night sky -
And knows the women giving birth
In Kuwait are seeing bombs in their night sky.
   Everything seems foreign to her;
   The evening sky is full of nightmares
   And apocalyptic specters.

She lies next to her lover;
He sleeps, fitfully.
They have loved for so many years!
She is afraid to sleep -
He has had these symptoms...
   If she sleeps, she may not know if there is an emergency
   She might have to deal with.
   She stays awake, alert.

          She watches for the morning when the fears disappear,
             When her sadness is but a mist.
                 She watches for the morning with a longing
                    So deep; she waits for the sun.
                        Even more so, she waits for the hope
                           That comes in the Son.

Shadows

When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him while Mary stayed home. Martha said to Jesus, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask..."

When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, "Lord if you had been here, my brother would not have died."
John 11:20-22, 32

Martha,
The impatient sister
Wondering why her sister
Won't help in the kitchen -
A meal must be made
For their friend.
Practical.

Mary,
The sister held captive
At the feet of Jesus
Bending on every word
That he might say
Has no time for making meals
For now, she lives in this moment.
Seeker.

But watch how the tables turn
When their brother dies!

It is Martha who seeks, believes
Proclaims, confesses:
You are the Messiah,
The Son of God.

It is Mary who is angry this time
Doubting and hurt:
My brother is dead.
If only you had been here.

We are shadows of ourselves:
Sometimes faithful;
Sometimes doubting.
The one constant
Is the presence of Jesus.

Story

"Then how were your eyes opened?" He answered, "The man called Jesus...."

"What do you say about him? It was your eyes he opened."  He said, "He is a prophet...."

 "Here is an astonishing thing!  You do not know where he comes from, yet he opened your eyes." ..."If this man were not from God, he could do nothing..."

"And who is he, sir? Tell me, so that I may believe in him." Jesus said to him, "You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he." He said, "Lord, I believe."

(from John 9:1-41)

Nothing original to post today! Just a couple ideas I took away from today's sermon:

1. There are two miracles in this story from John. The first is that Jesus heals the blind man. His vision is restored. The second is that as the man repeats his story, he comes to faith and his eyes are opened a second time.  The first time this person tells about how he is healed,  he says it is a  man who has healed him; then he calls him a prophet the next time he responds to inquiries; when he is asked a third time about his healing, he knows that the one who has healed him is "from God;" and, when Jesus finally asks him a question - the man recognizes who Jesus for who he is and says "I believe. Telling his story changed him. His eyes were opened a second time. Telling our faith stories changes us!
2. I think this is an interesting observation: Jesus heals the blind man by taking dirt (with which we were originally made) and adds water (how we are made a new creation) to make mud which is applied to the man's eyes to give him sight.

You NEED to tell your story. I NEED to tell my story.
(I can't wait to hear yours!)

Senses

[The man who was blind for birth and had been healed] answered them and said, "I have told you already and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again?" John 9:27

In this Sunday's gospel (John 9:1-41) people are blind to Jesus' actions in healing the man who could not see and they also appear to be deaf, because they keep hounding the healed man, asking repeatedly, "What did Jesus do to you?"

Such doubters they are; such doubters we are!

God,
You come to us in so many ways
Yet, sometimes we can't quite believe
It's you
Whose actions we are seeing in the world
It's you
Who is calling us
It's you
Who is speaking through someone who has seen you
It's you
Who is healing us with your touch
It's you
Who is moving in and among us
It's you
We smell in the incense that rises in our prayers to you
It's you
We feel and know in the refreshing waters of baptism
It's you
In the bread and wine we taste.
It's you.


We shout out to you:
"We believe; help our unbelief!"

Activity: Where have YOU seen God on the move in your life, in your community, in the world this week? Share your observations - or read the observations of others - on "God Sightings in the Northeastern PA Synod."

Known

A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to here, "Give me a drink." (John 4:7)

And so the story begins!

Here are the words to this amazing monologue (written by Chris Kinsley and Drew Francis):

I am a woman of no distinction
of little importance.
I am a women of no reputation
save that which is bad.

You whisper as I pass by and cast judgmental glances,
Though you don’t really take the time to look at me,
Or even get to know me.

For to be known is to be loved,
And to be loved is to be known.
Otherwise what’s the point in doing
either one of them in the first place?

I WANT TO BE KNOWN.

I want someone to look at my face
And not just see two eyes, a nose,
a mouth and two ears;
But to see all that I am, and could be
all my hopes, loves and fears.

But that’s too much to hope for,
to wish for,
or pray for
So I don’t, not anymore.

Now I keep to myself
And by that I mean the pain
that keeps me in my own private jail
The pain that’s brought me here
at midday to this well.

To ask for a drink is no big request
but to ask it of me?
A woman unclean, ashamed,
Used and abused
An outcast, a failure
a disappointment, a sinner.

No drink passing from these hands
to your lips could ever be refreshing
Only condemning, as I’m sure you condemn me now
But you don't.

You’re a man of no distinction;
Though of the utmost importance.
A man with little reputation, at least so far.

You whisper and tell me to my face
what all those glances have been about, and
You take the time to really look at me.
But don’t need to get to know me.

For to be known is to be loved and
To be loved is to be known.

And you know me.
You actually know me;
all of me and everything about me.
Every thought inside and hair on top of my head;
Every hurt stored up, every hope, every dread.

My past and my future, all I am and could be.
You tell me everything,
you tell me about me!

And that which is spoken by another
would bring hate and condemnation.
Coming from you brings love, grace,
mercy, hope and salvation.

I’ve heard of one to come
who could save a wretch like me
And here in my presence, you say
I AM He.

To be known is to be loved;
And to be loved is to be known.

And I just met you.
But I love you.
I don’t know you,
but I want to get to.

Let me run back to town
this is way to much for just me.
There are others: brothers,
sisters, lovers, haters.

The good and the bad, sinners and saints
who should hear what you’ve told me;
who should see what you’ve shown me;
who should taste what you gave me;
who should feel how you forgave me.

For to be known is to be loved;
And to be loved is to be known.
And they all need this, too.
We all do
Need it for our own.

Perspective

"The people quarreled with Moses and said, 'Give us water to drink.'" Exodus 17:2a

I think that since the first time I heard this story, I thought to myself, "Ah, those crazy Israelites! Always complaining; never quite trusting God. Don't they know any better? Why are they always complaining to Moses? They've been rescued, after all."

But, there are days now, when I look at this differently. After all, they are in the middle of their story, their journey and they don't know how it all ends for them. My perspective is different because I have the advantage - thousands of years later - of knowing the outcome. I think that if I were to be honest about it, if I were in their shoes, I would be complaining, too. I did some serious whining in my childhood. Just ask my parents. What makes me think I wouldn't whine if I were stuck in the desert without food and water?

Even now I experience days where my trust in God is not at 100% especially when I hear about natural disasters, or I see my son struggling to find his way in the world, or when I see my home congregation struggle, or when I see a friend dealing with illness. I want to complain to God about it all. It really is difficult to see where God is on the move in places like that.

Ultimately it's about the promise made in Christ Jesus - through his death and resurrection - and while things might look grim some days, I do know how all the stories will end. In the big picture, things will turn out all right. Thanks be to God!

One more thing, however. I do think that God is big enough to handle our complaints even when we can't handle situations on our own! It's good to know that God has such broad shoulders.

Help me LORD to put my trust in you - even when I cannot see where the future leads me.  Help me to remember you are already there, ahead of me - as you are with me now - and have been with me in the past.

Coattails

"I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eyes upon you." Psalm 32: 8

O, God

I feel as though I am riding
on the coattails of the Holy Spirit.
I feel that warm breath, the ru'ah
Blowing in my face and over me.
We are flying, flying forward.

The ride is both invigorating and uncertain.
Where are you taking me?
Where will I end up?
Will I be prepared?

God says, "I will instruct you and teach you
the way that you should go;
I will counsel you
With my eye upon you."

I need not fear, God
For you are in front of me.
You are like a parent
Squatting in front of a child
Who is learning to walk.

You encourage me
Watch and smile at each step I take
You cheer me on
And catch me when I stumble.

Wilderness

"Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil." Matthew 4:1

Wilderness
Unknown territory
Wary one looks cautiously around every corner
Stumbles along an uncertain path
Lips and mouth dry
Arms drawn in, close to the body, protective
Feels alone,
Desperate,
Fearful.

Wily evil one
Sniffs out the weakness,
The fear, the desperation.
Sidles up beside the hesitant traveler
Whispers in the ear, as if to be a trusted confidant.
Twists words and meanings
Into confusing and misleading messages
Meant to throw one off the path.
Feeds on the fear -
The strong scent of fear -
Like a blood-thirsty vampire.

But look,
Look!
The Holy One is there -
Always was
Always is and will be.
Ever faithful
Walks beside, accompanies
Carries the water to quench the thirst
Renewing presence.
Leads,
Gently guides the traveler along the rough terrain
Don't you see?
Don't you know?

Fear dissipates.
The wily one withers away.
Unsatisfied.

Tears

"What makes God cry?"

This is one of Dave Daubert's questions he asks churches as they prepare to look at mission and what God is calling us to do in this time and place.

Eight years ago around this time, I sat at a dinner table for a Lenten soup supper prior to the worship service. I was feeling melancholy because our president indicated that we were going to engage in a preemptive war with Iraq. This made no sense to me.

We were Christians sitting around the table, sharing a meal before worship. A confirmation teacher was one of them. She was agitated and in the course of our conversation, she became very animated and she rose to her feet (I'm not kidding) and shouted, "I HOPE WE BOMB THE SHIT OUT OF THEM!"

That still haunts me today - and every Lent. I remember my tears in worship that night. I remember the "shock and awe" I felt.

"What makes God cry?"

.... maybe the fact that a senator took pride in blocking a bill that would have provided a short-term extension for unemployment benefits that expired March 1 without, apparently, thinking of what this would mean to families counting on this to survive....

....maybe that one of our senators had the audacity to say, "continuing to pay people unemployment compensation is a disincentive for them to seek new work....." when I know people who have been trying, TRYING to find work in this difficult economic climate to no avail...

....maybe that people would follow the rantings of a radio host that strictly focuses on his own self interests and who, just the other day, compared the Speaker of the House to mullahs and imams that encourage suicide bombers - when she merely suggested that lawmakers think about what's in the best interest of the people as opposed to what might happen to their own political careers....

....maybe that some carry around signs comparing our president to Hitler or make him look like a monkey or use racial slurs....

....maybe the fact that we are all so quick to name call, demonize the other, and make things more difficult for those who are poor....

....maybe the fact that many who do this call themselves, "Christian...."

"What makes God cry?"

- demonizing the other without realizing our own demons -

- name calling -

- perpetuating untruths to further your own personal gain -

- misleading others -

- using Christianity as a sword -
- fear mongering -

- idolatry -

We are all guilty.

Most merciful God, we confess that we are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves. We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves...

...have mercy on on...

...forgive us...

...renew us...

...lead us...

...so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways...

(Evangelical Lutheran Worship)

May it be so.

May it be so.

Feet

John 13: 3ff
Jesus....got up from the table...poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him....After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, ‘Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them."

For my birthday last year, Wayne gave me a gift certificate for a spa. I put off using the gift certificate because I feel very self-conscious about my body. However, the gift was only good for a year - and with my birthday coming up soon, I knew I had to "use it or lose it."

Last week, I looked over the information sheet provided with the gift certificate. The spa offers a variety of choices - everything from head to toe - literally!

One of the things I chose was a pedicure.

Lauren filled a small ceramic tub with hot water and some soap. "Put your feet in," she instructed. "Tell me if the temperature is too hot."

My feet looked rough, calloused and tired. I lowered them into the shallow tub. The hot water felt wonderful on my feet, massaged by the air bubbles being forced into the water by the jets on the sides of the tub. Lauren sat across from me, a towel draped over her shoulder. She instructed me to put my right foot onto a padded ledge just beyond the tub. While my left foot soaked in the water, Lauren took my right foot and trimmed my toenails. Then she took an emery board and smoothed the edges of my toenails. She used an orangewood stick to ease back my cuticles. When she was done with that, Lauren took a callus remover and gently rubbed the bottom of my feet and toes, smoothing out the ugly, rough patches.

She gently put my foot back into the water and then repeated the process with my left foot. "So far, so good," I thought to myself.

My left foot returned to the tub so that Lauren could work more magic on my right foot in the next step. She took a scrub smelling of chocolate and raspberry and worked it into my foot. These weary bones were starting to come alive as she massaged the grainy scrub into my foot. She did the same to my left foot. Happy feet! I was getting happy feet!

Lauren rinsed off the scrub and then took both my feet and wiped them with the towel she had on her shoulder. She took a cream and massaged each foot generously for several minutes each. When she was all done, the old, dry skin was gone and my feet appeared to glow.

+ + +

Let's face it. Feet are not exactly the cleanest part of anyone's body. Feet bear the weight of their owner. Barefooted, feet pick up the dirt wherever they go. Feet stuffed in shoes get hot and sweaty. They are usually ignored and taken for granted until something goes wrong.

Jesus took the miserable, dusty, smelly, callused feet of his disciples into his hands and held them just as Lauren did with mine. I wonder if the disciples felt embarrassed because I kinda did. I felt my own unworthiness, lowliness: Why would anyone want to take a stranger's feet into her hands - even for pay? I wonder if the disciples felt that, too. Why would a teacher hold and clean the foot of his student?

And make note of this, too! Embarrassed as the disciples may have felt (did they want to crawl away and hide?) Jesus had to kneel - or at least be lower than they were - in order to clean their feet. A pose of humbleness. A pose of servanthood. All of a sudden the one who is feeling embarrassed - almost beneath another - is elevated in a way. What a paradox!

And note this, as well: Jesus was taking the ugliest and misshapen parts of the disciples bodies and making them clean, giving these ignored appendages some much needed TLC. Just goes to show that Jesus doesn't ignore anything about us. He loves every part - blisters, hangnails, calluses and all.

It is the season of Lent. In a few weeks we will remember the story of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. We will remember Jesus' act of servanthood. Help me, Lord, to find ways to serve you and others so that all may be elevated by knowing your amazing love for them.

My feet are glowing!

Jesus wants us all to glow.

Roots

Ray was born on July 4, 1907 - born of Finnish parents in New York City. There is a tale of adventure concerning how his father, Charles, came to the United States.. The story - as I remember it - went like this: Charles boarded a Russian ship and when it got into the harbor in Buenos Aires, he jumped ship and made his way to Brooklyn. Maybe that's not exactly how it happened. But, he did land up in Brooklyn where he married Josefina. He was a shipbuilder like many Finns living in that Brooklyn neighborhood.

Death and hardship were part of Ray's life early on. He and his four brothers - Charles, Frank, Walder, and Martin slept crosswise in a large a bed. Tears came to his eyes whenever he told the story of how - when he and his siblings were at play - his father came down from Martin's bedside to tell them that Martin had "gone home to Jesus." Ray was always affected when he remembered this part of his life. Martin died from diphtheria or the flu (I can't remember which). He told us how he remembered the horse-drawn hearse coming to pick up the body of his young brother. There were stories of bread lines and scarcity in the depression. There was the story of how his family learned on Christmas Eve that his brother Walder had died, serving the country in World War II.

But, Ray did not live a life focused on death or scarcity. His life was rooted in God's abundant grace and life. If there were one word to describe him, for me, that word would be "joyful."

Ray was a raucous joke teller, much to the disdain of his wife, my grandmother Marie. He absolutely delighted in telling stories. I remember the story he told of how he felt the call to go to seminary. According to him, he was on a golf course when a bolt of lightening struck close by. Years later, I realized that he was pulling my leg - telling a story that mirrored Martin Luther's own story of call!

Joy!

If you knew him, you would remember his delightful laugh and that twinkle in his eye.

Joy in the Lord - Most days, Ray was up just as the sun was about to rise. Sometimes earlier. The first thing Ray did every morning was to get the coffee percolating. Then, he poured himself a cup (strong enough that a spoon could stand up in it) and sat at a table with his Bible and journal. Making time for personal devotions was part of his daily routine. I have no doubts that the last words on his lips at night were prayers to God. I remember how appalled he was that I would put my transistor radio under my pillow to fall asleep to the music from a local radio station. He thought my last thoughts before drifting to sleep should be of God.

Joy in the blessings of family - Ray loved his family. At every mealtime, he said a prayer giving thanks for the food before him. But, he also said prayers for his "children, our children's children, and our children's children's children." My brothers and I teased him about this, but we would have sorely missed this invocation if he had ever skipped over it. I think, sometimes, he identified himself with Abraham and the covenant God gave to Abraham. God's covenant with Abraham was God's covenant with my grandfather - to be blessed with children and generations to follow.

Joy in the blessings of harvest - His hobby was gardening - and what a green thumb he and my grandmother had! When I watched him work in his garden, tending his plants, I could see that this was a very spiritual matter for him. When the harvest was gathered, Ray and Marie canned much of the food. They sold some produce by the roadside and the money they made they gave to fight world hunger.

Joy in the blessings of heritage - Ray was proud to be a first-generation American. I think it tickled him to have been born on the fourth of July! We celebrated his birthday with parades of pots and pans and made cakes looking like the American flag. The Finnish flag flew from time-to-time off his porch. While his roots were important, he did not let that stand in the way of getting to know others who came from other places. For him, ALL were God's children. There were no distinctions.

Joy in welcoming the stranger - Ray could make conversations with anyone. Anyone! We laugh when we remember the story of his trip to a hardware store where he struck up a conversation with someone. "Bob," he exclaimed. "How are you?" My grandmother witnessed this and wondered who this fellow was. She didn't recognize him. And Bob didn't seem to recognize Ray. But, they conversed together for awhile and it wasn't until Bob walked away that my grandmother saw that he was wearing a belt around his waste with his name across the front!

Ray -

Always welcoming.

Always blessing.

Always grace-drive.

Living life through his faith lens 24/7.

I give thanks for the living witness of my grandfather!

Beginnings

God's child.

This is who I am and this is the lens through which I view my life.

Forgiven. Connected. Supported. Loved.

Everyone has one has a story to tell. This is my faith story.