Thursday, March 31: Bob Simeone

You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free. - John 8:21-32

Some people just don’t get it. But what if you were like Jesus? What if everyone around you did not understand you? What if your closest allies did not get it?

We all want to be heard. We all need to be understood. But what if you could not get those basic wants and needs satisfied? What if your closest friends betrayed you at your most difficult moment? What if no matter how plainly you spoke, no matter how effectively you calmed yourself and explained the facts and circumstances to
the police officer, or the judge, or the jury, or the prison guard, or the executioner, none of them could understand you? What could be worse than that? What could be more frustrating?

The only thing worse than that would be abandonment. Abandonment not from your friends, not from your neighbors, but from the very person who brought you to life. Abandonment from your birth-giving Father. Jesus knew his father’s love for him. He knew his father secured a place for him in the Kingdom, but he wanted to continue to live on earth.

We are just as human as Jesus. Jesus, His Father, and the Holy Spirit have given us Grace. A future beyond time and space. But like Jesus, we are reluctant or hesitant to take the gift. We don’t get it, the disciples did not get, the Jews did not get it ... even Jesus struggled with the love of our Creator. His love is too simple, too deep, too unconditional for all of us to grasp.

—Bob Simeone

Wednesday, March 30: Rebecca Duffy

O that I had in the desert a traveler’s lodging place, that I might leave my people and go away from them! - Jeremiah 8:18-9:6

In this passage from the book of the prophet Jeremiah, the prophet bemoans for a place in the desert he can flee to get away from the evil that he sees among his people. His heart is sick and he doesn’t know how many more lies and deceitful or traitorous acts he can witness. But he stays because he has a calling and he has the conviction to trust in God, especially when he’s most afraid.

During this time of Lenten reflection, this prophet of the past reminds us all that God continues to speak—and He could be speaking to us much more than we realize, more than the people of Jeremiah’s land realized. We should take the time in our daily lives to listen more closely to those around us, to discern whether they might even be God’s prophets, trying to tell us something. Too often we ignore the signs right in front of us. This reflection exercise has been a good reminder that I should listen more closely to God’s word as it is expressed around me, no matter where it originates.

—Rebecca LaBrunerie Duffy

Tuesday, March 29: Vicki Williamson

"Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee." - John 7:37-52

Nicodemus was very courageous! He took a considerable risk in asking a question of his fellow members of the Pharisees and thus pointed to a legality that was not being carried out properly. Instead of complying with the law, Nicodemus’ fellow members chose to make a blanket accusation and reject his brave query. Their reading told them that no prophet would come from Galilee. That’s it. Don’t confuse us with the facts. End of story.

Oh, God, keep my mind “open for business” as did Nicodemus!

—Vicki Williamson

Monday, March 28: Joanna Fuller

What then are we to say was gained by Abraham, our ancestor according to the flesh? - Romans 4:1-12

A few weeks ago while watching the news, I saw a sobering item appear on the crawl: ‘OJ Simpson beaten in prison.’ While the report was later revealed to be false, I have to confess that seeing it, I felt a measure of satisfaction, much as I had when Simpson was arrested for robbery some years earlier. Both occasions granted me a sense of justice, a comfort that no matter how events in the world play out, what goes around really does, ultimately, come around. Rather than feeling compassion toward Simpson for the suffering he’d endured at the hands of a prisonmate, or sadness at how his life has unfolded, I was relieved—relieved that his actions had finally caught up with him, relieved to see him paying in some way for what he’d done, relieved to find that he couldn’t truly get away with murder, even if he’d escaped the more severe consequences that I believed he truly deserved.

But Paul’s letter to the Romans stands as a rebuke to my attitude. Like many Christians, I’ve read it many times and have been fairly certain I understood the theological teaching that we are justified by faith and not by works. I was pretty sure that I “got” the concept—that none of us is blameless, that we need a perfect Savior, that the only way we are made clean and holy before the Father is by the grace, mercy, and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. But my fixation on justice (or my interpretation of it anyway) is evidence that I hadn’t completely grasped the larger truth: that God, in His compassion for us, doesn’t give us what we deserve. He gives us what we need, if only we’ll trust in Him.

Paul reminds me that inasmuch as Abraham was called to be the father of the Jewish nation, not to mention the father of all believers, even he was far from perfect, particularly when standing before a holy God. Abraham displayed courage and obedience (Gen. 12:1-7, Gen. 14:14-24). On other occasions he demonstrated doubt and faithlessness (Gen. 12:10-20, Gen. 16:1-6). But it was neither his acts of obedience nor his shortcomings that God counted when regarding Abraham a righteous man—it was his willingness to believe in God and all that He promised (Gen. 15:1-6). God called Abraham righteous years before he called him to circumcision; circumcision was simply the outward manifestation of his belief.

It’s significant that Paul, of all people, champions this teaching. By his own account (Phil. 3:4-6), if anyone could feel they were justified according to the law, it would be him. He was a self-described ‘Hebrew of Hebrews’: he’d been circumcised on the eighth day, he was of the tribe of Benjamin, and he was a Pharisee, the order of Jewish adherents who strove to follow the law so closely as to be in a constant state of purity. What’s more, while Paul was from Tarsus, one of the most prosperous and prestigious cities in the Roman empire, he was raised in Jerusalem and studied under Gamaliel (Acts 22:3), the grandson of Hillel, one of the most famous rabbis of all time. Paul’s zeal for the law was so great, he viewed Christ’s followers as blasphemers and persecuted them, even to their death.

But on his way to Damascus (Acts 9:1-9), God appeared to him saying, ‘I am Jesus whom you are persecuting.’ For all his adherence to the law, it had led him to persecute God Himself. Despite his accomplishments and pedigree, Paul would later call himself the least of the apostles (1 Cor. 15:9) and acknowledge that only the grace of Christ had saved him.

So as we enter Lent and prepare to celebrate Easter, I’m moved by the fact that God doesn’t appear to be nearly as preoccupied with justice as I’ve been. When I stand before him, he doesn’t catalog my flaws and misdeeds (not even the really, really ugly ones). Instead, he looks at me with unspeakable tenderness. He’s able to see beyond my actions to the struggles that drive them. He wants to attend to my healing, not to my punishment, and he extended that grace to me long before I made any outward demonstration of faith.

Mark Fuhrman, the detective who investigated the OJ Simpson case, was recently interviewed by Oprah Winfrey. Toward the end of the interview, Oprah asked him what he would say to Simpson today, if he could interview him. Fuhrman’s reply was surprising. He told Oprah the first thing he’d say would be, “‘I know you didn’t mean to kill two people and I know you didn’t go there for that.” He then said he’d want to find out what happened, and how Simpson got caught up in the events of that evening.

Over the years, I’ve had mixed feelings about Fuhrman’s own character and actions. But whatever I think of him, I’m humbled by the fact that this person, who knows far more about the case than I ever will, whose life has been forever changed by it, and who has far more right to comment on it than I, could have such a  thoughtful and compassionate answer. As horrific as he believes Simpson’s actions to have been, he’s not blinded by his desire for justice. He can see beyond the actions through to the pain and pathology that must have driven them.

Throughout the Bible, we encounter a God who not only sees and understands our pathology, but who wants to heal it. His promise is that while we can never earn salvation through works of the flesh, good works will  result as the natural outpouring of our salvation by faith. As I allow God to transform my heart, I’m not only freed to become the person He intended me to be. I can begin to truly see others not with a judging eye, but with the grace and compassion that’s been shown to me. What’s more, as I grasp my own brokenness and healing, I have the amazing chance to play a part in God’s work, and to be used by Him to help others experience that same forgiveness and peace. May God heal us all.

—Joanna Fuller

Sunday, March 27: The Third Sunday in Lent

"Salvation is from the Jews." - John 4:5-42


I imagine Jesus, sitting next to that ancient well in the hot, midday sun. Tired, hungry and thirsty, he was waiting there for his disciples to return with bread for their journey. Having no bucket, he was unable to draw water from that deep, cool well. Yet suddenly, right there in the middle of the day, a Samaritan woman came to draw water. Jesus must have been startled – no one draws water in the heat of the day. But there she was – the woman with the bucket. Jesus is forever telling us that God provides.

I imagine the Samaritan woman making her way to the well in the heat of the day. She always goes for water at this hour, as she knows she won’t encounter anyone. Her life has been a series of disasters, so she’s shunned by the people around her, and she is tired from the shame and the shunning. She must have been startled when she came upon this man sitting at the well, and even more startled when he spoke to her. He was a Jew; she, a Samaritan. Jews don’t engage with Samaritans. He was a man, she was a woman. Men and women don’t talk with each other without the presence of other men related to that woman. He wants a drink. That doesn’t make any sense to her. And when she says so, he gives the strangest reply. "If you knew the gift of God, if you knew who I was, you would ask me for the water that quenches every thirst."

If you knew…

How often have I questioned all the ways things don’t make sense and can’t get right and all the while Jesus was right in front of me, offering me the living water that quenches every thirst and fills my every need?

Gracious God, give me eyes to see you and ears to hear you in the many and varied circumstances of my life. Amen.

—The Rev Karen Haig

Saturday, March 26: Charles Rus

Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. - Romans 3:19-31

When we stand for the Gospel at every Eucharist and listen to the words of Jesus, my feeling is often one of awe, respect, and love for this compassionate man who overflows with love for everyone. His words often go straight to my heart, and my mind doesn’t find a need to engage in an argumentative way, the way it does with some other Bible readings. I know what Jesus is saying is true. I feel it deep down. I long to be compassionate as he is, non-judging, accepting of what I am given in life, easy or hard. I long to share what I have with abandon, and to stop worrying and simply be grateful.

When I take Jesus’ message to heart, and try, even in the smallest way, to live and love as he did, I am living the mystery of faith in Christ. Belief in something other than truth is not faith. Faith is acting, in any given moment, from my heart, remembering I am Christ.

- Charles Rus

Friday, March 25: The Annunciation of Our Lord

And [the angel Gabriel] came to [Mary] and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. - Luke 1:26-38


Many things can be said about this well-known passage from Luke’s gospel writings. What speaks to me at this time is Mary’s call to discipleship and her very human, but remarkable, response. In reflecting on the writer’s words, I find that this passage can serve as a powerful model for helping us respond to changes or surprises in our lives that knock us off our feet. It is most often in these times that we receive God’s call to discipleship, which if we can respond just a little like Mary, we can come closer to knowing that we too are favored by God and that He is surely with us.

Following the angel’s greeting to Mary, the writer tells us that she was “much perplexed” by his words and she was afraid. Mary then questioned the angel, asking how his message could possibly come to be. What perfectly normal human reactions to such an event – fear, followed by questions. Change, especially when it comes quite unexpectedly, or any unanticipated event, can be very scary, and as normal, thinking people, our natural reaction is to question how and why.

But this is where Mary points us away from our fear and headlong into trusting God’s call to surrender, even when our questions aren’t answered and we don’t understand the how or the why. When the angel told Mary not to be afraid, she took him at face value. My guess is that Mary became very present to what was happening in that moment, and in so doing, she sensed in her heart that this was God’s call to something incomprehensibly wonderful, even though it surely would present many difficulties and painful times in her life.

Of course, we too are called to surrender to God’s call in our daily lives and most especially at the scariest times in our lives. We always have a choice, to let the fear take us over and respond to the situation from that constricted place, or to open up to the knowledge that the Lord is surely with us, no matter how little we can see or understand God’s providence at work. As Brother David Stendel-Rast writes: “There is grace in every package, no matter how ugly the wrapping.” Our work is to accept the package when it is delivered (even while sitting with our questions and our fear), and through faithful prayer, to surrender to the knowledge that whatever the package brings, God is with us. By opening up to God’s inexorable grace in every situation, something miraculous and truly wonderful can unfold in our hearts.

—Zonnie Breckinridge

Thursday, March 24: Jim Blundell

For thus says the Lord: The whole land shall be a desolation; yet I will not make a full end. Because of this the earth shall mourn, and the heavens above grow black; for I have spoken, I have purposed; I have not relented nor will I turn back. - Jeremiah 4:9-10,19-28

Some days are just dark. Dark, gloomy, dreary, desperate, desolate, doomed ... some days are lonely. Some days, God just seems absent from our lives. How else can the darkness be explained? A few days ago, a good friend of mine lost his brother to a sudden heart attack. I know that was a very dark day for him. I know he felt very alone.

But God’s power and grace are at work in our lives, even on those most desperate days. The passage from Jeremiah describes a time of great destruction and disaster. It is a prophecy, so it is written as a vision of horrible events coming in the future. The prophet is apparently describing the ruin of Jerusalem and the desolation of Judea by the Chaldeans. “Disaster overtakes disaster,” “the whole land is laid waste,” the earth was “waste and void,” the mountains were “quaking,” “all the birds of the air had fled,” the “cities were laid in ruins.”

If you’ve lost a loved one, or a job, or life is heavy and dark, you know this despair. And yet, in these darkest times, God reveals himself. Near the end of the prophecy, when all the coming destruction and devastation has been described, God delivers the ultimate glimmer of hope. He says “the whole land shall be in desolation; yet I will not make a full end.” I will not allow complete hopelessness, he says. Just when our lives seem to slip into the deepest depths, God offers the light of his salvation. Do not be afraid …

—Jim Blundell

Wednesday, March 23: Richard and Alyce Rogers

Do you not realize that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance? - Romans 1:28-2:11

In this letter written about 25 years after Christ’s death, Paul describes the world’s need of redemption through Christ’s saving sacrifice mediated by God’s grace and the opportunity for transformed life that His death has made available to us all, Jew and Gentile alike, through our faith journey. Alyce and I listened to and meditated over this passage and the verses preceding and following.

Paul speaks of eagerness to proclaim the gospel, for, “it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, both Jew and Gentile.” But in following verses he reminds us that those of us who do not accept God’s reality have no excuse. His eternal power and divine nature have been amply demonstrated through all that He has made. Yet He gives us the freedom to choose. Thus some choose to worship and serve the creature (ourselves) rather than the Creator. These people give themselves up to a detailed list of evils. They know God’s decree, that those who practice these things deserve to die. They do them anyway! But be careful, Paul warns us, not to judge, as you will be judged by the same measure, for we all may be guilty to some degree, though we may not recognize it.

Paul reminds us that we should realize that God’s kindness (the freedom to choose and the gift of His Son) should lead to our focus on repentance, to be sorry about our behavior and concentrate on changing our ways. God will be the judge and focus on our deeds. The reward of eternal life will go to those patiently doing good, seeking honor, glory and immortality. There will be anguish and distress, wrath and fury, for those doing evil.

Paul emphasizes that outward appearances do not suffice. It is your deeds that count, Jew and Gentile alike. Alyce and I were challenged recently by televangelist Joyce Meyer’s question, “Are you married to God, or just dating?” In other words, how seriously do you take your relationship to God? In the midst of our turbulent life pathways, how often do we allow ourselves to be reminded of God’s kindness (the freedom to choose and the gift of His Son) and turn thankfully to repentance, allowing the transforming power of the Holy Spirit to move us along our faith journey and empower our earthly good deeds?

—Alyce & Dick Rogers

Heaven and hell?

What do you think about heaven and hell? Here's what author Rob Bell thinks: LOVE WINS.

Tuesday, March 22: Katherine Williams

What wrong did your ancestors find in me that they went far from me, and went after worthless things, and became worthless themselves? - Jeremiah 2:1-13

It is so easy to put things before God … and when we do it, we really do it in a big way. That book, that DVD, that piece of jewelry, those tickets to the opera or baseball games, ballet, or symphony! They usually come first.

It really can be so simple: we could try to do without some of these “must-haves.” I have been trying it, and every time I decided I didn’t need this or that, I felt good about it and I began to wonder about what I could with it, to the Glory of God. Each time I was drawn to think about God and the Church.

It isn’t all about the “golden calf.” It is about our ability to sidestep God in so many ways, missing so many of God’s gifts. During Lent we might decide to do without something we consider a favorite thing. And in the space that has been created, look for God’s presence in your life.

—Katherine B. Williams

Monday, March 21: What are our idols?

Then the Lord said to me: …disaster shall break out on all the inhabitants of the land. - Jeremiah 1:11-19

We are listening in on the story of God’s call to Jeremiah. The Babylonians have overwhelmed Judah, sacked Jerusalem, and sent many of the people into exile. Into the midst of this conflict, God calls the prophet to interpret for the people the signs of the times. The people have turned away from God and made offerings to other gods. Their affinity for idols has brought disaster down on their heads. God, it seems, really does care when the people turn away from allegiance and service to the Creator of the Universe and turn towards useless idols that they imagine will satisfy their desires. Jeremiah, in very poetic language, will spend 52 chapters explaining to the people the consequences of their poor choices.

What are the idols that we worship? Which is to say, what do we really value more than devotion to God and loving service to others? We all have at least one or two idols. We might make an idol out of security, so we hoard our resources in fear of scarcity rather than share our abundance. We might hold onto our children so tightly that we don’t allow them the freedom to flourish on their own. It is so easy for a child or a spouse or a parent to become merely an object that we use to satisfy our unmet wants. What are the idols in our own lives? Loving and serving God first, Jeremiah reminds us, allows us to love and serve others in the most genuine and authentic way. Heartfelt devotion and service to God clears away all the idols and makes way for wholeness and peace.

—The Rev Lex Breckinridge

Sunday, March 20: The Second Sunday in Lent

Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.’ - Genesis 12:1-4a

After seventy-five years, the Lord still had a lifetime’s worth of work for Abram and Sarai, as they were still called.

Now, the Lord wasn’t yet specific about the work this couple was to do. They would have to go on a journey to discover God’s purpose for them. In this case, the journey was all the way from Haran in modern-day Iraq, across the Fertile Crescent, down into the land of Egypt and back. They became discouraged and weary along the way. More than once, they doubted the Lord’s promise to them. But they persevered by faith. Eventually, a son, Isaac, was born to them in the new land to which the Lord had led them. Isaac and Rebekah, in turn, bore Esau and Jacob; and Jacob and his wives gave birth to twelve sons whose offspring became the twelve tribes of Israel. A great nation, indeed.

Regardless of our age, God always has work for us, some purpose for our lives. To discover that purpose may require us to go on a journey. An interior journey. This purpose, this work, may not be immediately apparent. It will surely require the perseverance of faith to discover it.

Why not spend some time today reflecting on God’s purpose for you? There may be someone in need of your forgiveness. There is undoubtedly someone in need of your compassion. Extending these gifts to others is as great a purpose for your life as founding a great nation.

—The Rev Lex Breckinridge

Saturday, March 19: Aileen Loranger

When his parents saw him they were astonished. - Luke 2:41-52


Over this past year, I have had the privilege of being assigned to a local middle school to provide weekly counseling to emotionally troubled seventh and eighth graders. It has been a bittersweet reminder of “the best of times, the worst of times” as I companion youth and their parents through the great divide between childhood and adolescence. I find this to be an especially paradoxical time when, despite great qualms and transitions, “middlers” become certain that they know it all. It is the age of exploring individuality and independence. Inevitably, parents are astonished, again and again, by the unpredictable that emerges from the child they thought they knew.

This portal into adolescence is a time of tremendous physical and emotional awakenings; a time of self-exploration, of testing limits, of trying to figure things out. This stage also brings a new spiritual consciousness, as beliefs and values are gathered from trusted peers and elders, tested and “tried on” for personal fit. A relationship with God becomes more tangible. Emerging beliefs are strongly felt but largely unrefined. It is an unsettled time, filled with tensions between conformity and defiance, as young teens come to a place where they can be who they are, at least for the moment. Ahhh, to be twelve again …

Life was no different for Jesus in this coming-of-age story found only in the gospel of Luke. He is twelve and has traveled with his family to the festival of Passover. But when it is time to go home, Jesus quietly asserts his independence and stays behind. This ultimately causes great parental turmoil before they finally locate him back in the Temple. His adolescent response, “Where else would I be?,” is classic. The Temple must seem like such a logical choice to him, since he has officially entered manhood in his Jewish tradition. Now he is forging his personal identity, trying to understand his world, asking lots of questions of the teachers. He is led by his spiritual stirrings, a longing to be in his Father’s house, to fully understand his relationship with God. Jesus is also experiencing the fullness and frailty of his humanity as an adolescent, unaware that his independent choices might unintentionally hurt those who love him the most. Jesus is obedient after this incident. And his dear mother cherishes these memories of his youth in her heart.

Lent is also a season of awakenings, a time to be led by our spiritual stirrings into a deeper, more intentional relationship with our Divine Creator who is always inviting us closer. The Lent of my childhood called for a somber, penitential response. My understanding has matured; this sacred space has become a time of germination and anticipation. It requires a premeditated, daily ritual of preparing heart and mind to receive God. This practice is much like tilling the soil, removing rocks and old roots, so that seeds of hope can be planted and new life in Christ may emerge. As faithful Christians, it would be easy to think “we know it all,” that we’ve “done” Lent before and we know what’s expected. Yet, as this story points out, even the Son of God needed to ask lots of questions of the teachers, seek his unique place in his Father’s house, and develop an emerging relationship with God through his humanity.

Perhaps it is through revitalized seeking that we ultimately discover newness of Life through the risen Christ. Will you listen to the spiritual promptings of your heart this Lent in a new, mature way, only to discover unexpected Grace?

—Aileen Loranger

Friday, March 18: Mary Friedlander

He must increase, but I must decrease. - John 3:22-36

John’s testimony is that He whom God has sent speaks the words of God. The loving Father has placed all things in his beloved Son’s hands. Those who accept this know that God is true, that He gives His Spirit, without measure.

John’s great gift of humility and his deep knowledge of Jesus as the Son of God, the Messiah, has shown us that He who comes in the name of God is beloved. We have only to return this abundant love and to believe that as we grow stronger, in keeping these holy words in our hearts, our thoughts of disbelief and confusion will decrease. Blessed John has shown us the way.

- Mary Friedlander

Thursday, March 17: Ed Flinchem

A sabbath rest still remains for the people of God.

- Hebrews 4:1-10

The Creator rested on the seventh day; contemplating creation, God knew it to be good. When we keep the sabbath, we are invited, among other things, to contemplate our works of the preceding days. We may ask ourselves, “What have I done? What have I left undone?” If I am to grow in harmony with my fellow beings, I know I must ask myself those questions over and over again. I must rest from my labors to make space in my mind to frame the questions.

Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness, the desert. What is the desert but a space physically empty of the food and comforts and companionship, so near at hand in the inhabited places of the earth? In that vast physical wilderness, I see a metaphor of psychic empty space, a mindful space uncrowded by the pressing concerns of the day and society, a necessary open space for The Word to enter in. In the vastness of the desert, Jesus answered questions put to him by the tempter, such as, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” Forgoing something precious to me for 40 days creates an opening in my personal time and space to contemplate large questions.

Lent I can see in one way as the sabbath writ large, one a metaphor for the other, each an essential time and space to be open, to be quiet and to listen for the eternal calling of The Word.

—Ed Flinchem

Wednesday, March 16: Harriett Gill

"Except a man be born again he cannot enter the kingdom of heaven." - John 2:23-3:15

When a child is born, that child’s main interest is its own comfort and well-being. Infants get into a literal rage when their needs are not met. So what does Jesus really mean when he tells Nicodemus that he must be born again? Does that mean kneeling at the altar and confessing what a sinner we may be and praying for our guilt to be removed?

Perhaps, but it could also mean that we are to put God first in our lives and look at our fellow human beings and all the world we live in with a more compassionate attitude. This doesn’t mean only feeling the compassion, but acting on it. To live in a more unselfish and less self-centered way and to serve others as we would like to be served.

The hymn we sometimes sing before communion says it very well. “All to you I now surrender, all to you I freely give. I surrender all.”

—Harriett Gill

What are people looking for in church?

The Alban Institute is a think tank and consultancy that has lots to offer. Take a look at this article on the beginning of the decline of the mega-church movement and an increasing return to those things which the traditional denominations offer.

I was particularly attentive to this:

There is a deep spiritual yearning pervasive across generations, yet we know people will no longer settle for one-way preaching and entertaining services. They want meaningful worship, an empowered lay leadership, and a spirituality that leads to action. Again, people are longing for the very things that many denominational churches have been cultivating for decades. 

How are we doing in these three areas, do you think?

Faithfully,
 

 

Lex

Tuesday, March 15: Sunni Bannon

"In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple." - John 2:13-22

When I picture Jesus, the image that first comes to mind is not one of him clearing out the temple with an angry whip. He looks more like “Hippie Jesus.” You know the one – long hair, white robe, surrounded by children, sharing stories of love and peace with a gentle smile.

However, the Gospels show us a Christ who was complex, counter-cultural, unpredictable and, at times, explosive. How do I meld this Jesus with the one who brought sight to the blind with his touch, ate with the outcasts, and put his hands on the unclean and made them well?

The truth is that there are times I am like those who sought healing from Jesus and there are times that I am more like those who got an earful from Jesus. He had tough words for people who took pride in attending temple regularly, studying scripture and following the rules. He rebuked those who made reputation and financial success their top priority.

When I look honestly at myself, I know I’ve stumbled with the same. My focus is not on making a profit, exchanging currency in the Great Hall, but I often lose sight of my own heart as a temple. I focus on church obligations and commitments and forget to foster of a spirit of charity. I establish roles and expectations for myself (and others) that clutter my ability to receive and follow God’s will. I forget that Jesus called the temple a “house of prayer” and allow myself to be overcome and distracted by my worries, my children and my to-do list.

Thankfully, I can allow today’s scripture to remind me to let the One who created the universe be in command.

Almighty God, I invite you into my heart to do some temple clearing. Chase out the concerns, pour out my need for control, and tip over the lure of possessions, Lord. Create a sacred space inside me so I can receive the healing touch of Christ the Savior. Amen.

—Sunni Bannon

Monday, March 14: Beverly Breckinridge

"Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth." - Psalm 100:1

In Jubilate Deo, this lovely song, I hear Mother Earth affirming our faith. She tells her children the story of who they are, who their Father is, and what they were put on this earth to do. In serving others they make this the beautiful life he planned for them. So Mother Earth gently encourages them to enter his gates with thanksgiving, his courts with praise, and rediscover day after day that the Lord is gracious, his mercy is everlasting, and his truth endureth from generation to generation.

- Beverly Breckinridge

Sunday, March 13: The First Sunday in Lent

"The tempter came to him." - Matthew 4:1-11

Jesus’ experience in the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry was crucial to the formation of his character. It was there that Satan tempted him with promises of:

1) Safety and security,
2) Power and control,
3) Affection and esteem.

All that was required of Jesus to obtain these deeply human wants was to acknowledge Satan’s lordship. How tempting! Isn’t that what we desire? To be safe, to be in control, to be well-regarded? Yet, it is the pursuit of these ego-driven goals that drives us straight into the arms of the Father of Lies.

Jesus spent his entire ministry living into his Father’s will for him as he understood it. In turning away from the pull to self-satisfaction and turning towards surrender to God, he models for us the journey towards liberation of our true selves from the illusory need to be our own saviors.

Lent is an occasion to reflect on the temptations in our own lives. It is likely that whatever we come up with will be a version of one or more of Satan’s seductive promises to Jesus. Name it and write it on a piece of paper. God is always inviting us to surrender whatever wants underly our particular temptation. Allow God’s healing grace to flow. It is the path to genuine wholeness.

— The Rev Lex Breckinridge

Saturday, March 12: Margaret Chorlton

"Come and see." - John 1:43-51

How many times a day do I hear, “Come and see”? It might be “come and see my Lego creation,” “come and see how clean my room is” (yeah, right!), “come and watch my pirouette.” It is usually the invitation of someone who wants to share their enthusiasm and joy. When a loved one is excited to share their experience, it’s hard not get caught up in the action. Or, as my kids put it: “Dude! Check it out!”

I talked to my kids about this passage, and as usual, they had an insightful perspective. We were talking about seeing something rather than just hearing about it. My 12-year-old, Stone, said, “Sometimes you have to see something to believe it, but sometimes you have to believe something to see it.” Or, put another way, once you believe in God, you see Him everywhere. Lent is a good time of looking inward, reflecting on who we are and who we want to be. I think this Lent I’ll be asking myself this question: am I believing what I see, or seeing what I believe?

- Margaret Chorlton

Friday, March 11: Beth Zobel

"Come and see." - John 1:35-42

After 15 years of widowhood, my mother went back to her maiden name. There were no regrets for living 35 years with her husband’s name, but she claims that as soon as the legal change was made she realized, “This has always been my true identity!”

Jesus calls each of us by our true name. It may feel different; like a new identity, but I propose that it is actually who we’ve been all along; from beginningless time. In fact, all that we are looking for is right here, inviting us to “come and see.”

— Beth Zobel

Thursday, March 10: Bishop Greg Rickel

"For a bishop, as God’s steward, must be blameless." - Titus 1:1-16

Any bishop would read Titus 1:1-16, especially verse 7, with some pause. “For a Bishop, as God’s steward, must be blameless.” I looked up “blameless,” and it is most often is defined as “free of guilt; not subject to blame”; “has lived a blameless life”; “of irreproachable character”; “an unimpeachable reputation.” Some light there, but still pretty daunting stuff. I read this much as I hear, and I think we
misunderstand, John Wesley’s famous phrase, still used in United Methodist ordinations, “moving on toward perfection.” We don’t like that word “perfection” any more than we like the word “blameless.”

But, I am not sure our 21st century Western ears hear it right. For me, it is the difference between the life and ministry we seek, and publicly proclaim, versus the one we live. It is the ability to put these two into the same conversation, and have the vulnerability, and the love for others, and the Body of Christ, the Church, as the foremost and primary role in your life, so that you remain willing to be open about your faults, seek reconciliation when it is needed, and continue to note yourself, rightfully and truthfully so, a sinner. It is the ability to not allow your position to blind you from challenge by others. Being blameless, as a Christian, is to know you are among all to be blamed, and so, thereby, to be in the need of reconciliation and God’s grace and to publicly acknowledge it. If it were to mean what we think of so often as blameless, or perfect, then bishops would be more difficult to live with than we already are, and we would be of no earthly good to anyone. As one commentator on this idea said, “The perfection to which we are called is a maturity, or “rightness,” at each point in our journey with the final, true perfection coming on that day when everything shakable has been shaken out.”

I have to see it this way. I am praised on a daily basis, but blamed just as often. Blamed for saying the wrong thing to the wrong people, for speaking out on this or that, for not being where someone thought I should be. This should strike any bishop right between the eyes, because if you are awake at all, you know you are not blameless, but you are saved, and loved, as are we all, by our God of grace, and in the end, this is what we are to be an example of: a sinner, redeemed. — The Rt Rev Greg Rickel

"Let no one be scandalized if I frequent those who are considered unworthy or sinful. Who is not a sinner? Let no one be alarmed if I am seen with compromised or dangerous people, on the left or the right. Let no one bind me to a group. My door, my heart, must be open to everyone, absolutely everyone." —Dom Helder Camara

Mardi Gras festivities!

We sure cut loose last night at St. Thomas, with Charles, the Blundells and company providing fabulous music for dancing; mask-making and face-painting; a host of volunteers cooking pancakes and sausage; and well over 100 St. Thomas parishioners and friends in attendance.

But perhaps the most surprising moment of the night came when Father Lex shouted, "Throw me something, Mister!" and received ... this.

We caught a shot of the mischief-making member of the youth group whose name was drawn out of a hat and who was thus tapped to throw the pie. But he was wearing a mask ... so we're not sure who he is!

Wednesday, March 9: Ash Wednesday

Psalm 103. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy Name.

In this Lenten Season, we are called to reflect on what Christ’s death on the Cross means to us. He died to save us from our sins, and all we need to do is accept His saving grace. This Psalm exults in His love, and we are asked to bless the Lord numerous times, to not forget all His benefits. He forgives all, heals all, redeems all, offers vindication for our sins, and offers love to all who fear him, keep his covenants, and remember his commandments.

In sum, acceptance of Christ means that we have an all-encompassing acceptance into God’s kingdom. In His death, there is life for all of us who accept him. We are but lilies in the field, who bloom briefly, and then pass away. Our stay is temporary, but eternal life comes through an acceptance that we have remission of all our sins through acceptance of God, and the sacrifice of his son’s death. The Psalm is a very positive affirmation of the blessings which come through acceptance of the benefits of Christ’s death on the cross. Bless the Lord, O my soul.

—Paul Birkeland

A Daily Devotional for Lent, courtesy of the parishioners of St. Thomas

Introduction

For Christians, Lent is a time set apart. Forty full and rich and long days to reflect and to pray, to look within, to seek out the things in our lives that create distance between God and ourselves. Lent is a time to discern how God may be calling us. What might we take on, or let go of, in order to more freely love God, our neighbors and ourselves?

We offer you the St Thomas Lenten Devotional and invite you to spend some time each day reflecting on Holy Scripture with our St Thomas community. These reflections have been written with great care and attention by the people of our community, and they offer us an opportunity to move more deeply into our relationships with God, with one another and with ourselves.

My heartfelt thanks to all who prayed and pondered and wrote so beautifully from the riches of their own lives to make this booklet happen. This little devotional is a great gift to us all, and it has been my privilege to have had a hand in bringing it to you. I invite you to use it to pray with, to come closer into community by coming to know a bit more of the people who have written these reflections. May this Lent be an especially rich and holy season for us all.

Faithfully, Karen†

Youth retreat to Whidbey Island, make new friends

The numbers couldn't have worked out more perfectly: ten youth from St. Thomas, ten from St. Mark's Cathedral. We set out through rain and traffic Friday evening and even got separated onto two different ferries. But eventually, we all made it to Camp Casey on Whidbey Island.

The St. Mark's youth, under the able leadership of Children & Youth Director Cindy Spencer, do this retreat every single year. This is the third time St. Thomas youth have joined them to make a special effort at building new friendships. We had a young bunch this year: one sophomore, two freshmen, and a host of middle schoolers.

This particular retreat is not meant to be intense. It's time away, time for recharging and refreshing. More than once I heard a youth say, "I'm bored!" I think this really means, "I'm slowing down for the first time since Christmas, and I don't know how to handle it!" I get that way too. A little boredom is sometimes necessary before we can get used to the fact that we are human beings, not "human doings."

That's not to say we did nothing, of course! We cooked our own meals and cleaned up after ourselves. We walked on the beach in the rain and chose rocks with which to build an altar. We played lots of board games, card games, and basketball games, we did the Limbo, and we watched a movie or two.


But perhaps the highlight for most of us was our time playing at Fort Casey. This fort was built to be used in the event of a foreign invasion from the East that, of course, never occurred. It was decommissioned decades ago, and the military barracks that make up Camp Casey are now owned and operated by Seattle Pacific University. Fort Casey has everything you'd expect: giant stone structures built into the grounds, battlements, and dark rooms that are great for playing Sardines, or The Hunter and the Hunted.

On Sunday morning, we shared Morning Prayer. We sang songs together and heard the Gospel account of Jesus' Transfiguration on the mountaintop. Instead of a sermon, we each drew our own "transfigured selves," and then we worked together to design a "Transfigured Person." We came away Sunday afternoon having learned that God wants us to keep becoming more like ourselves ... the people we are when we feel truly alive. May God be with us all as we come down from the mountaintop of Camp Casey, back into the world we know so well.

My special thanks go out to Cindy and Heath Spencer, Sunni Bannon, and my wife Christy and daughter Sarah, who shared the weekend with us.

- Josh Hosler