Saturday, March 31: Judy Katri

Mark 10:46-52. Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.”

As a new grandmother, I am especially enjoying the days when I care for David, my one year old grandson. We both look forward to our walks in the park, where he squeals with delight and claps his hands as I push him on the swings. Before I buckle David into the stroller his pudgy little right arm juts out toward the magnolia trees in the front of our home. We have a ritual of examining their glossy, waxy leaves—then we embark on our journey. As we approach the park, we are greeted by friendly dogs, quacking ducks, and many birds gliding gracefully overhead. David loves animals! His chubby hands and feet wave with excitement, while he serves as my own young naturalist. It’s as if, through his baby babble, David is urging, “Look Grandma, Really Look and See!” Viewing the world through my grandson’s eyes is helping me to more fully recognize and appreciate the wonder and beauty of God’s creation.

In Mark’s gospel story a blind beggar named Bartimaeus, recognizes Jesus as the Messiah. He shouts, “Son of David….have mercy on me!” while the crowd tries to quiet him. The blind man faithfully persists. Jesus calls him forward. In the gospel’s translation by Eugene Peterson (The Message) the crowd responds to Bartimaeus saying, “It’s your lucky day! Get up. He is calling you!” When Jesus asks what he can do for the man he answers, “Teacher, I want to see”. Although this man is sightless he recognizes Jesus’ presence. Bartimaeus’ expectant faith allows the instant transformation of his vision and his soul, as he follows Jesus down the road.

This Lent will I be a seeker as in the examples of a sightless man or a tiny toddler? Will I recognize Jesus presence and in expectant faith allow him to open my eyes and my heart to his grace and wonders? Will I hear the message? “It’s your lucky day! Get up. He’s calling you to come!”

— Judy Katri

Friday, March 30: The Rev. Karen Haig

Psalm 22. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

We know these words, don’t we? They are the last words out of Jesus’ parched and wizened mouth before he dies on Golgatha. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? The words are familiar, yes… and sometimes when things are familiar, we imagine that we understand them. Or have learned all we can from them. Or that we just don’t want to hear them anymore.

Yet if we listen anew, what might we hear? These words so filled with anguish were uttered by the One who seemed never before to have had a moment of doubt. The one who before called “Abba” and who now cries out to His God. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Here, in these words, we experience the profoundly human Jesus as He experiences profoundly human suffering. Here, in these excruciating words, Jesus seems utterly abandoned. There have been times in my life when I’ve felt utterly abandoned too. The feelings have been real and deep and profoundly painful, just like I imagine Jesus’ feelings were. But those profoundly painful feelings are never the end of my story. They weren’t the end of Jesus’ story either.

God’s story never ends in abandonment. Time after time, the people of God feel abandoned (or have abandoned God), yet God never forgets us. In the midst of Holy Week, in the midst of God’s story there is Good Friday, filled with suffering, deep sadness and even Jesus’ horrible death on the cross… but that’s the middle of the story, not the beginning, and not the end. The day before, this same Jesus stoops at the feet of his friends, tenderly teaching that our greatness comes in loving and serving God and God’s created, and calling us to watch and pray. Holy Saturday, the day that follows, is set apart for prayer and meditation on the whole story of our own salvation history, culminating in the Great Vigil of Easter where the newest Christians are baptized, showing us our continuing place in God’s great story. God’s story is a story of Easter resurrection, not just for Jesus, but for us too.

As real as our suffering is, suffering is not God’s final word. God’s victory of life over death is as real in our earthly lives as it will be when we’ve gone from this life to new life. Every act of love we offer serves to overcome all of the hate and fear and suffering and abandonment in the world. And while the God who loves us does indeed suffer when we suffer, we can absolutely know – without any question – that God will turn all our suffering into love.

— Karen Haig

Thursday, March 29: Greg Murray

Exodus 8:19. “This is the finger of God!” But Pharaoh’s heart was hardened, and he would not listen to them, just as the Lord had said.

Have you ever stubbornly stuck to course of action or a way of thinking about some thing or someone, even though you knew it was wrong? Have you had someone point out the truth and show you the error of your ways and, despite their truthfulness and compassion, you failed to listen and heed there advice? Have you ever failed to let God in, to accept his loving outstretched hand, or to feel his healing touch? I have!

I have behaved like Pharaoh more times than I care to admit. It is so easy to get wrapped in the busyness of our lives, our own self-importance, and to create our own false gods. When I have acted this way and failed to listen to God, it hasn’t always been accompanied by a “plague of frogs,” but it has left me in a dark place -- feeling hurt, empty and alone. It has made it hard for me to be in community, to accept the love of those around me and to grasp Jesus’s constantly outstretched hand.

Thankfully, God continually offers us his love and forgiveness – even to the point of giving up His Son on a cross for us. As we prepare to walk to Golgotha, to feel the nails, to cower before the tomb at Gethsemane, and awake to the resurrected Lord, I pray that God’s Spirit will open each of our hearts to those gentle, loving voices around us and that we will experience God’s faithful love each day!

— Greg Murray

Wednesday, March 28: Ann Osterberg

2 Corinthians 2:14-3:6. You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all…written…on tablets of human hearts….from God, who has made us…to be ministers of a new covenant, not of letter but of spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

When I was a child, I believed that knowledge of God came from the letter of the law set forth in the Bible. The Bible called us to action. And, so, I marched on Washington, came back and stood up in church and spoke.

As I grew to be an adult, I suffered loss. I lost touch with God. I did not understand where faith came from. I did not understand how people could believe with certainty in what they could not see. And, so, I spent many years away from church.

Not until I reached the hardest, most impossible choices late in life did I find God. Not until I had the courage to acknowledge my hurt, face my fear and go forward in spite of uncertainty, did I find my faith. The only way forward was to trust that God would see me through. And, so, slowly, in my heart I came to honesty, courage and hope. Slowly, through the Spirit, I came to know and understand God.

— Ann Osterberg

Tuesday, March 27: Mary Friedlander

Exodus 5:1-6:1. But the king of Egypt said to them, “Moses and Aaron, why are you taking the people away from their work? Get to your labors!”

Moses and Aaron heard the voice of God. Moses held conversations with God. Moses wanted to save his people. He listened to God and even argued with him. These Bible stories are so much a part of our understanding of the long story of God’s people, from long ago and, in the time of Jesus. We can hardly bear to hear the last words Jesus spoke to His Father.

When we pray or sit in silence, communicating in our own ways, we try to listen for the whisper of God’s will for us.

When I was a young widow, with four dearly loved children, I had a life-changing experience. I was in a small room in Ireland, with my elder daughter, asleep in the other bed. I had a dream, or a vision of Jesus, standing beside me. He was dressed in a white robe, with a rope around his waist. He asked me what I wanted. I said, “I want my children to be safe.” He replied: “Say, I place my loved ones in you care, and name them”. He took my hand and placed in into the rope at his side and said, “Walk with me”. I was suddenly very alert. I woke my daughter and asked her if she had seen or heard anything. She had not.

Every time I pray, I say those words, naming my children, and often a few other loved ones. I feel in my heart that I had an encounter with Jesus. I still think about walking with Him, my hand holding the rope. Perhaps we only dream, but our history encourages me to believe that we are still listening and speaking and walking with Jesus.

— Mary Friedlander

Monday, March 26: Stephanie Curry

Luke 1:26-38--Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

Many people associate this passage with Advent, a time when we prepare ourselves, our families, and our homes for the coming Christ child, for Christmas.

So, what does this passage have to do with Lent? My thoughts keep returning to Mary and her response to the angel’s announcement. After Gabriel’s grand description of her future child, what expectations, if any, did she hold in her heart? What expectations do I have for this Lenten season, and how will I respond to God’s love and calling?

In this passage from Luke 1, the angel Gabriel tells Mary she will have a child. He will be great. He will be holy, called Son of God, and given the throne of his ancestor King David. At the time of the Annunciation, Mary did not know what we know today. We know the Jesus story, from the Annunciation through the Resurrection. We know the stories of his humble birth and a little bit about his youth. We know his earthly life was a far cry from the angel’s proclamation of greatness and royalty. In his humanity Jesus was not a ruling earthly king. He had no army, no obvious power or greatness, and was esteemed by only a few fishermen, tax collectors, prostitutes, beggars, crazies and those on the margins of society. We know the profound, beautiful stories of his ministry and miracles, the awful story of his crucifixion, and finally the glorious story of his resurrection. We know he reigns at the right hand of the Father. And from OUR vantage point, he IS great, he IS holy, he IS the Son of God, the King of Kings whose kingdom will never end. We know the angel’s prophetic words are true. But Mary didn’t know.

I am deeply moved by Mary’s response to Gabriel. She says ‘let it be with me according to your word.’ Her faith, humility and gentleness both comfort and inspire me. She recognizes she is part of something bigger than herself. This is something I occasionally, even frequently, forget in my own journey. A friend often speaks truth to me by asking, “Whose story is it anyway?” He kindly reminds me we are all beloved participants in the divine drama of God’s kingdom present here and now. I know God loves me and cares about the details of my life. But, it is not all about me. I am not the central character of the story. I do not want to live thinking of myself as central to all that is, expecting God to show up as a participant in MY personal story. I want to wake up each morning and pray “Lord, let it be with me according to your word, according to your ways and plan for today. Let me choose to accept all that happens, good or bad, as a part of YOUR divine story.”

— Stephanie Curry

Sunday, March 25: Valerie Cordell

1 Corinthians 13:1. If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

As one of the most well known and studied scriptures, from which countless songs, sermons, and poems have been written, putting a new or even personal ‘spin’ on the subject matter of Love seemed a little silly at first. After all, what hasn’t already been said to describe God’s perfect Love? I certainly know by now that it is not a feeling, despite the barrage of Valentine’s Day sentiments; and I also know that I cannot come close to replicating that kind of perfection in my efforts to love others as God has loved me.

So the process began… A discourse between Richard, Alyce, and me. I asked many questions about Lent (being new to the Episcopal church), the rules of this assignment, length, first person, etc… trying to formulate a structure for what I might write. After all, I wanted to get an “A+” from the teacher. My mind was spinning with ideas as I listened for snippets we could use in what I thought might be a joint “reflection.”

But then, as has been the pattern since I arrived here last year, God intervened and I knew instantly that for me, the importance of this process (and of Lent) was not what I might write, but the process itself. I looked to my right and saw Alyce reading a passage from a particularly wonderful book by Hannah Hurnard; then back to my left as Richard, with a peaceful and soft glow, also watched Alyce reading. And at that moment, through all of the heady analysis and discussion about Love, it became so very simple: These people ARE Love.

For me, the path that has led me to this place, to St. Thomas, has been painful at best; and had it not been for God’s Love reaching me through these self-assigned “God Parents,” my journey in this world would have surely ended. Through them, and eventually extending through so many at St. Thomas, I finally know the meaning, and how it feels to be the recipient of God’s Love—unconditional and perfect. No matter what the day holds, how they or I feel, and even through the inevitable human flaws or behaviors we might not see as “Godly,” they are teaching me to maintain a level of discipline and steadfastness that requires a daily choice—to put on the cloak of God’s love, and in so doing, become the Love that will meet others exactly where they are, to be what God asks of me at that and this moment.

— Valerie Cordell

Saturday, March 24: Alyce Rogers

1 Cor 13:12b. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.

As a performer, from early childhood well into my adult singing career, I was plagued by severe stage fright. After many years, and through the constant teachings of my spiritual advisor, I finally realized that I was loved! …..and one evening when I walked out on stage, looking at the large audience, what was normally a paralyzing fear became an overwhelming sense of love for the people who were there. That love of people remains with me to this day.

Reading the passage of Love in 1 Cor 13:1-13 I am once again drawn into reflecting upon the teaching that “we are often the only experience of Jesus people will have in this life”. If I truly want to be this gift of Love, then I must constantly make the journey inward toward purifying my inner life. For me the first step was to understand that I am loved, not because I am worthy, but through Grace God has come into my life to show me His love. This was a difficult step for me to understand for a long time, but I knew that I could not give away what I did not have. My inner thoughts were often self-centered and negative and I had to learn how to let those go. However, it became clear to me that no matter how I was feeling, it was possible to choose to practice the attitudes of Love until they became almost always automatic and I began to understand the freedom and joy of surrendering that false self within me and seek to bless those around me with the same unconditional love that God has for me. This has become a constant practice for me over the years, and I am often taken by surprise and sadness when an unkind thought or action rears its ugly head. I have come to learn that the journey from outward transformation to the inward surrender into holiness is without a doubt a life long journey that will not be complete until we see beyond the dimly lit mirror mentioned by Paul. So my prayer for the community and myself is that we can walk together in the spirit of Love, learning from each other and letting go of those things which keep us from staying on this path. I know that we will have many opportunities!! And don’t forget to laugh…we humans can be very funny beings!!!

— Alyce Rogers

Friday, March 23: Dick Rogers

1 Corinthians 13:1. If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

For me, Love is the key concept in this scripture. It seems to me that Paul is describing what Love is for God and what God would have Love be for us as we relate to Him and to each other. It is the Love exemplified by His son, Jesus Christ. The challenge, for me, is how to embrace this love and be empowered by it consistently. It must be a choice, an attitude, not a feeling. It means consciously doing everything for God, as Brother Lawrence encourages us to do.

On my own, I cannot make this choice or hold this attitude consistently. Only with God’s help and His Grace is this possible. Prayer is essential: God without your help I can’t do this. Help me, God. Help me! A continuous subconscious prayer seems needed to me. Marcus Borg’s version of the Jesus prayer is an alternative that works for me.

Lord Jesus Christ, you are the light of the world, fill my mind with your peace and my heart with your Love.

This is a Lenten opportunity to choose to let go and let God transform me with His Love enabling me to become a consistent transmitter of his Love to all those around me including myself! Think how wonderful it would be if all of us through our consistent loving prayers and actions sowed the seeds of loving transformation in all our communities!

— Dick Rogers

Thursday, March 22: Brian Gregory

Mark 8:27-9:1. He asked the disciples, "Who do people say that I am?"

Up to the point of today’s reading, Mark has given us a picture of Jesus as one who has complete authority over the forces opposed to the kingdom of God. Jesus has healed the sick, cast out demons, and miraculously fed crowds of thousands not once, but twice. Apparently Jesus’ activity has created a buzz on the streets of the Judean countryside and we find Jesus asking his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And then he makes it personal: “Who do you say that I am?”

People are still talking about Jesus. Turn on the TV you’ll hear television preachers telling you that God wants to make you rich. Walk downtown and on at least one street corner you’ll find an angry preacher with a megaphone and a sign warning you about hell. Come to St. Thomas and we’re talking about Jesus too. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what anyone else is saying — Jesus is asking, “Who do you say that I am?”

There is no question more important for us to answer, and our answer reveals a lot about our expectations. Peter got the “right answer,” but he completely misunderstood what it meant. Peter thought that the Messiah was going to be a powerful ruler — one who restored the Kingdom of Israel — and the evidence seemed to be pointing this direction. If Jesus had authority over disease and demons, if he said that the Kingdom of God that was close at hand, certainly he was getting ready to deliver Israel from the occupying Roman forces. That is why Peter felt the need to rebuke Jesus when he predicted his death and resurrection. Peter expected something different from Jesus. He expected a Messiah that was strong, not weak. But that is not how God works. Jesus shows us that true life is found through death, strength is found through weakness.

As we journey through Lent, we recognize our own weakness. We know that Easter will come — that the power of God was ultimately shown through weakness — but we are careful not to move to the end of the story too quickly. We remember the journey that led Jesus to Jerusalem and ultimately to the cross, and we hear Jesus saying, “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will find it.” This is discipleship. Jesus doesn’t ask us who we say that he is to make sure we know the right information, Jesus asks us because he wants us to follow him. He wants to show us, through his life, death, and resurrection that the kingdom of God is near — and to invite us into the glorious life that is found by first giving ours up.

— Brian Gregory

Wednesday, March 21: Jean Johnson

Psalm 101. I will look with favor on the faithful in the land, so that they live with me.

Outside the windows of my house stands a grove of firs. My husband and I built this house in 1962, and these trees were strong then. Clif spent his last eighteen months in his hospital bed gazing from time to time at these same firs from the same windows. Now, six years later, I am in charge of my surroundings, with God's help. I watch the eagle build its nest in the largest tree and observe the crows as they challenge first the eggs, then the foundlings. At other times, snow has caused the boughs of these stalwarts to bend but not break. Drought and wind have also challenged their beauty as the years have passed by, but God must look with the same favor on these trees that watches over me.

— Jean Johnson

Tuesday, March 20: Kathryn Ballinger

1 Corinthians 11:17-34. For, to begin with, when you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you.

It is always a bit dangerous to read a passage of scripture out of context. In the following verses, Paul goes on to say he partly believes it, “for there must be factions among you in order that those who are genuine among you may be recognized.” Interesting! And at the beginning of the chapter, he instructs the church at Corinth to “be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.”

In February’s “Come to the Quiet” meditation group, we reflected on the classic “Imitation of Christ” written by the 14C monk Thomas a Kempis. It is second only to the Bible as being the most read book. Here is a passage that seems relevant and reflects Thomas’s wisdom.

“Until God ordains otherwise, a man ought to bear patiently whatever he cannot correct in himself and in others. Consider it better thus—perhaps to try your patience and to test you, for without such patience and trial your merits are of little account. Nevertheless, under such difficulties you should pray that God will consent to help you bear them calmly.”

“If, after being admonished once or twice, a person does not amend, do not argue with him but commit the whole matter to God that His will and honor may be furthered in all His servants, for God knows well how to turn evil to good. Try to bear patiently with the defects and infirmities of others, whatever they may be, because you also have many a fault which others must endure.”

“If all were perfect, what should we have to suffer from others for God’s sake? But God has so ordained, that we may learn to bear with one another’s burdens, for there is no man without fault, no man without burden, no man sufficient to himself nor wise enough. Hence we must support one another, console one another, mutually help, counsel, and advise, for the measure of every man’s virtue is best revealed in time of adversity—adversity that does not weaken a man but rather shows what he is.”

Lent gives us the opportunity to reflect on our lives and relationships, remembering we are all part of the body of Christ.

— Kathryn Ballinger

Monday, March 19: Delores Chapman

Psalm 89:1-29. Happy are the people who know the festal shout, who walk, O Lord, in the light of your countenance.

This psalm speaks at great length of God’s mighty power over the earth and the heavens. We who believe and are followers of God’s Word receive a precious gift! When life brings stress and trouble, we have but to speak to the Lord in prayer and he will take our hand and lead us to His way of Peace, Comfort and Healing. In walking in God’s way, we can find a perfect fit.

— Dolores Chapman

Sunday, March 18: Laurie Fenkner

Ephesians 2:4-5. But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.

As I read this scripture, I was immediately drawn to the story of the slave trading seaman, who was renowned for his vulgar words and angry demeanor. The familiar story goes that in the midst of a terrible storm - he called out to God and then penned the words to the famous hymn “Amazing Grace”. As I often sang that Hymn, I marveled at the power of this man to not only recognize his anger, vulnerability but to fully release himself to God’s care. Interestingly, the story did not end there as I thought - In fact, it took him many more years of struggle until he finally turned his life over to God and eventually penned the words to the famous hymn.

We all share John Newton’s journey - It is difficult to surrender our all - and rely only only on grace and mercy. I’ll continue to find inspiration in his story and comfort in his words:

‘Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.

— Laurie Fenkner

Saturday, March 17: Aileen Loranger

1 Cor 10:12-13. “So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall…God is faithful, and... will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.”

Self-reliance and determination are intrinsic to our American heritage. It is easy to succumb to the temptation of believing that life depends on us and us alone; whether how necessary our work or how needy the world. It is tempting to think that if only…if only we had more energy, more money, more time, more…then, then we would be … accomplished, generous, content... The latest cultural images, ideals and material possessions tempt us on every side. Indeed, advertising counts on us to see ourselves as the center of reality. And so, we are always hungry for more.

Temptations are perpetual. One of the greatest of these is hubris, an “overconfident pride and arrogance”, that comes from self-centeredness and self-sufficiency to the exclusion of all else. St. Paul echoes Proverbs 16:18, “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall…” Instead, he seems to suggest that the nature of our life with God requires humility. To learn to be humble is to willingly submit to God, recognizing our human frailties so that we are truly open to a right relationship with God, ourselves and community. Humility places our Divine Creator, ever faithful, in the center of our lives. So when we are inevitably tempted or tested, we can be confident that we will endure because God is with us and will give us what we need.

What hungers or temptations, habitual attitudes or attachments keep us from a right relationship with God, ourselves and the world? Perhaps it is time to empty ourselves of these during this Lenten season so that we can be open to receive God’s grace and love.

— Aileen Loranger

Friday, March 16: Zonnie Breckinridge

Psalm 88: 7-10

You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.
Your wrath lies heavily on me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.
You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape;
my eyes are dim with grief.

I like to think of the Psalms as the place in Scripture to find beautiful hymns and prayers of praise and thanksgiving to a benevolent and merciful God. Even in the few Psalms of lament, I always thought that the Psalmist would clearly find redemption in the end. So, I was rather unsettled when I was asked to write a Lenten reflection on Psalm 88, a Psalm filled with pain, confusion and struggle, and no apparent acknowledgment of God’s mercy in response to the Psalmist’s cries.

Oh my, what to do? Well, pray about it, of course. So, I turned to my dear prayer partners for help in finding the grace in this difficult passage. We read the Psalm out loud and then sat silently together in our prayer circle. What came out of our prayer time was nothing short of the work of the Holy Spirit.

For some of us, the Psalm was an awakening to our understanding of and compassion for relatives and friends who suffer with severe mental and emotional handicaps. One had planned a visit the next day to two sisters who had been a “thorn in her flesh” for 40 years. The Psalm was an opening to her acceptance of these difficult relatives just as they were, without the pull to fix them or push them away. Another was better able to understand the seemingly inconceivable agony of a family member who suffers from paranoid schizophrenia. And, yet another found relief in knowing that it is okay to “rail against God” like the Psalmist, finally understanding that God wants us to speak to Him “out loud” about our pain and struggles and hopelessness.

Yes, this troublesome Psalm helped us understand all these things, and, for me, most especially the realization that I can and must trust in the true nature of God no matter the situation in which I find myself. The Psalmist laid his soul bare before God, expressing the full extent of his suffering, leaving nothing unspoken. By doing so, I believe that he was drawn into the place of complete presence with God and trust that God is with us in our suffering, even if our circumstances don’t change.

In her blog posting “Joy is Not the Opposite of Pain” (www.thinkingworship.com), Stacey Gleddiesmith notes that praise and lament are not opposites and neither are pain and joy. Rather, the antonym for pain is comfort. Yet, we are not called to a life of comfort. It is through our suffering that we are called to participate in the transformation and redemption that Jesus began and continues in this world. When we tell God about our suffering (even though he already knows), God can transform that suffering, not necessarily by taking it away, but by turning it into the “painful joy” of knowing that God is steadfast in his unconditional love of us. And, it is that love, which ultimately has overcome all of our struggles and all the suffering of the world.

— Zonnie Breckinridge

Thursday, March 15: Russ Borgmann

Mark 6:37. But he answered them, “You give them something to eat.”

Much of my life has been geared toward flying solo. I grew up placing high value on being self-sufficient, self-reliant, to ‘go-it-alone’. Most of my life decisions have been made with a “take care of yourself” mentality. “Let them go and buy something for themselves to eat,” the disciples say in this reading from Mark. I hear my own voice in that comment.

I struggle with relying on God in my faith journey. I find great irony in the fact that I desire a faith-filled life, and yet I want to be in control and live a self-reliant life. Today I find myself taking refuge in my own life experiences and relying on my own limited knowledge. I find that, in my desire to be in control, I am living into an attitude of scarcity rather than living out an attitude of abundance.

It is hard for me to live into Jesus’ call to us. On this side of the resurrection, God’s love toward us is made manifold by sharing His love in community. This approach does not come naturally to me. Being the introverted person that I am, living in community really pushes my boundaries. My natural inclination is to retreat to a safe place within myself and intellectualize about Jesus’ calling for my life. I want to seek out that solitary, deserted place - and live there.

As we read in Mark 6:30-44, there can be time for rest and introspection. But, we are not called to live forever in that quiet place of retreat. Eventually we are called to act. We are called to have compassion and feed the five thousand. “You give them something to eat,” Jesus says. We are challenged to go out into the world, bearing and sharing our God-given gifts, talents, and time for the benefit of all. I mustn’t hoard my gifts, or my thoughts. When we share with others, we see the miracle of God’s gifts multiply unconditionally. When we open our hearts and our hands, we can let go and share. We make room for the miracle of abundance that allows our community to be filled – and still take up twelve baskets, above and beyond.

In this Lenten season, I am reflecting on this holy, mysterious miracle. I am being challenged to let go of my self-reliant ways, so that I may free myself to share more abundantly with my faith community. With God, five loaves and two fish can multiply infinitely more than we can ever imagine.

— Russ Borgmann

Wednesday, March 14: Dwight Russell

Genesis 45:16-28. “Enough! My son Joseph is still alive. I must go and see him before I die.”

Wow! The verses from this chapter cover a multitude of gifts from God – redemption, reward, forgiveness, familial love, miracles. We recall from a previous chapter of Genesis that Joseph’s jealous brothers have sold him into the service of the Egyptian Pharaoh. Having risen to the position of chief steward in the Egyptian kingdom, Joseph’s expertise is rewarded handsomely by the Pharaoh who says in verse 18: “Take your father and your households and come to me, so that I may give you the best of the land…”. He then forgives his brothers and shares with them and his father Jacob, giving them garments, grain, bread and provision.

Thinking Joseph had perished in Egypt, Jacob was stunned to learn that he had survived and prospered – certainly this was a miracle to Jacob who says in verse 28: “Enough! My son Joseph is still alive. I must go and see him before I die.” This seems like a reverse version of the prodigal son. It certainly is interesting to wonder how Jacob processed this happening, having bought his brother Esau’s birthright and taken his blessing, but later achieving reconciliation and forgiveness from Esau. I would like to think that Jacob was mellowed by this event, especially in light of his previous dream of angels ascending and descending a ladder, and his encounter with God (aka: the stranger, angel, man) where he wrestled, won, and was blessed by God.

When I visited the Holy Land in 1995, I went as a determined skeptic – no “out-of-body” spiritual experiences for me! But that changed a few times without the help of my imagination. One day I sat down at the edge of an almost dry stream bed - The Jabbok River. While we were eating lunch our guide told us we were sitting at the place where Jacob had his dream of angels, and where he wrestled with God. The years between then and now dissolved for me and I said to myself: “Surely God is in this place.” I have felt more close to Jacob since that day, and for me it was a miracle.

— Dwight Russell