Saturday, February 28: Jennifer Eichenberger

Deuteronomy 11:18. You shall put these words of mine in your heart and soul.

When I read this passage, I think about how we learn and try to imagine how to put the laws that Moses spoke of in my heart and soul. It feels much easier to write them down and commit them to memory. I bet that repeating the words and spending time trying to learn them “by heart” might actually help us to internalize them and start to believe in them. Words and advice may make perfect sense to think about but I am not sure the heart learns by memorizing laws. We can teach our children obedience by commanding a certain behavior or conditioning them but I have found with my own children that they learn better if they really understand why we make the choices we do. I think the heart learns from a real deep connection to our emotions and experiences. We often need to experience the law in action through our relationships with others to really understand it and believe it in our heart and soul.

This verse also goes on to talk about writing the words on doorposts and gates at home and wearing them on your hands and forehead. When I apply this to our modern day life, I imagine a handmade sign of the commandments written in a cool modern font hanging in a home or seeing someone with a verse or cross tattoo or wearing symbols in jewelry. All of these are visual reminders to ourselves and the rest of the world that our belief in the laws is important to us. But the hope is that those words and signs are more than words and laws for us, they have traveled from the head to the heart, once we know them “by heart,” we live them out daily and teach our children by example.

                                                                                                            —Jennifer Eichenberger

Friday, February 27: Gretchen Breunig

Psalm 40:1,3. I waited patiently upon the Lord...He put a new song in my mouth.

Lent offers time for reflection, hope, and prayer. Often I pray for patience to sustain hope with the slow pace of change. I enter Lent planting a few seeds of hope to shift my work-life balance, with daily prayers of gratitude and songs of praise.

My daughter and I just spent the weekend visiting the Tenement Museum at 97 Orchard Street on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. I reflect on this psalm thinking about the stories of the immigrants who lived in this place and era. They faced risks and made sacrifices which I find challenging to imagine. With faith, they were pulled from the mire and give sure footing on a new precipice, facing the new risks of finding employment and enduring harsh living conditions. Each subsequent generation received blessings of education, jobs, and better living conditions. The seeds of hope I plant today are the product of the sacrifices made by my ancestors who risked so much. The risks we take to make dramatic changes in our lives today provide renewed soil for the seeds our children will plant in the future. I enter Lent singing a new song of praise for all the blessings we receive, thanks to sacrifices made for us. 

—Gretchen Breunig

Thursday, February 26: Carey Sheffield

Psalm 19:3-4. Although they have no words or language, and their voices are not heard, their sound has gone out into all lands, and their message to the ends of the world.

The first awe-inspiring moment of my life was while experiencing the opera Aida in the Arena di Verona when I was 19 years old. My seat was centuries’ old granite at the top of the amphitheater which was built by the Romans in 30 AD. The heat was debilitating and the air was pungent, humid, and still.

It was during the third act that I experienced a feeling that to this day defies words. The moment began subtly: every few minutes a breeze would gently wash over the audience and the stagnant air was briefly light, fresh and breathable. As the sun set, candles were lit and held by audience members throughout the theater, making it appear as if the starry sky above had been lowered into the seats beside us. Aida begins to sing the gorgeous aria “O Patria Mia” about her beloved homeland with lyrics that describe blue skies and gentle breezes, green hills and perfumed shores, cool valleys and blessed refuge. Suddenly inside the arena the breeze picks up and starts to rush towards the soprano so that she’s singing into gusts of wind as her dress flows behind her dramatically. As the aria hits its climax, sheet lightning starts flaring and crackling behind the stage, miles away in the night sky! It was as if the conductor had cued God to underscore the moment, as if He were a member of the orchestra! It was breathtaking.

It was this moment that left me with an overwhelming and indescribable sense that what I had experienced was not the magical mix of Verdi’s music, the 2000-year-old architecture and a dash of divine intervention, but my first glimpse into the grandness of the Artist who had made every single element of that magical moment possible.

My prayer for you is this: May you stand under the skies and see the Artist—not just His artwork—around you. Allow all of your senses to take in the majesty before you and feel God’s glory speak—without words—for itself.   

—Carey Sheffield

Wednesday, February 25: Katie Akesson

Hebrews 3:14. For we have become partners of Christ, if only we hold our first confidence firm to the end.

This passage inspires me with encouragement and hope. It speaks of relationships and working with one another. It is, for me, what church is all about; a community. It is being there for one another. It is a sense of belonging and acceptance. It is the joy and excitement of being apart of something special and the sense of responsibility that holds us accountable to one another. It is the commitment we all take for each other in baptism and the commitment we make to our spouse in marriage. It is the commitment we give to our kids; to raise them in a loving, caring, responsible environment. These commitments, of course, are supported and encouraged by God. One of the parts of church that I value most is the people. It is what drew me to St. Thomas and what helps me worship.

When I ask the kids what their favorite part of church is they of course answer “the food.” But they also love to tell stories of the people that talked with them and friends they played with and the activities they have done. The fact that they have stories to tell lets me know they are a part of the community.

In the light of Lent, the opportunity we all have to do or not do something in order to draw closer to God, the sense of community and support that this passage alludes to, reminds me that I am not alone. When faced with a problem and difficult situation I have a community of people there to support me. My intent this Lenten season is to reflect on those relationships: I want to notice and appreciate how other people in my life encourage and support me and also be more aware and work on how I can be a support and encouragement to others.

  —Katie Akesson

Tuesday, February 24: Erica Lemcke

John 15:9. [Jesus said] “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.”

Initially the passage seems simple and uplifting, basically God loved his son and his son loves us, so we are instructed to dwell in that love. This commandment does not even appear challenging; rather it simply states that there is love available for us to enjoy. Who wouldn’t want part of this deal? We all want to be loved, so this is a no-brainer! Upon taking a second read of this passage, I see a call for sharing this love, the love we have been so generously gifted with comes into play. We need to share it with others, and are commanded to do so. This ultimately is a win-win because in sharing the love our true-selves can reach their maximum happiness potential, and we feel great joy. If we only seek the love of Christ in times of sadness and need we have missed the mark. God wants us to seek him out at all times and we will not only find strength in this love for ourselves, but can also play-it-forward for a broken world that needs as much love as it can get. My final thought is that when we are in fact hurting, which happens to all of us, God stands by us, and the strength to go on with the daily grind often comes from the smallest gestures from random people that cross your path. May this Lenten season inspire us all to abide in that love and share it!                  

—Erica Lemcke

Monday, February 23: David Franson

Hebrews 2:7. Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect.

Fully human in every way? I grew up with a sentimental, airbrushed notion of Jesus. His hair was radiant, and everyone looked happy to be with him. He was not someone I could identify with. I also received the sentimental version of the incarnation – a quiet, happy baby, sitting in a thing called a “manger,” and receiving gifts from kings. Many years later I figured out that a manger is a thing that animals eat out of, and that it’s usually located in the same place where animals do other business.

That was a significant realization for me, but another followed at the end of 2013, when our youngest child was born. Our first infant, he was, in the early days, this tiny thing, utterly helpless. A human being, usually asleep, entirely dependent on the adults around him, and able to lie on my arm in the space between my hand and my elbow. I remember at the time, though the haze of sleep deprivation, being amazed that the Almighty would choose to experience this, would choose to be this.

Although there are joys in infancy, it may be a mercy that we forget those early years. There is, as I’ve seen in the past year, a lot of pain and discomfort. Teeth come in, but we don’t understand why, or what’s going on. We have needs, but we can’t communicate them. Our wills are thwarted by the big people, and we can do nothing about it. It’s an extraordinary thing, but also profoundly ordinary – we’ve all been this at some point. Jesus was this too, one of us, fully and completely.

Jesus is one of us in birth, and being fully human, he is one of us in death as well. In Lent, Jesus turns towards Jerusalem and the trials that await him there. We, too, will turn towards those things as we follow His story. Just as we have our aches, pains, trials, and disappointments, Jesus had His, and He suffered them as one of us. We may have to walk the road alone at times, but we can take comfort that our savior has shared in that experience, and knows it as one of us.

  —David Franson

Introduction to the St. Thomas Lenten Devotional

For Christians, Lent is a time set apart. Forty full, rich and long days to reflect and to pray, to look within, to seek out and explore the things in our lives that create distance between God and ourselves. Lent is a time to listen carefully and to discern what it is that God is calling us into. 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, and 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†

Sunday, February 22: Arne Hendrickson

Psalm 25:6. Remember me according to your love.

I have never been faced with as many challenges in life as I have now…and never have I had as much faith in the Lord. My problems are plentiful, but when I think of them, I reflect on how my Lord Jesus Christ is there with me. He is there by my side as I face the challenges of life. And I know that he has always been with me, even when I didn’t know (as a younger man) to think of Him. Today, there are challenges that never seem to get smaller or less complex… family communication breakdowns, career failures, and health issues (for me and those I love): but I know that I am not alone. I know that nothing will defeat me as long as I have my faith in Jesus. I also know that my blessings are plentiful, too. I am forever thankful for the many positive things in my life.

We think of Lent as a time of self-examination and as a time when we sacrifice so that we become closer to God. In this Psalm, David explores his relationship with God. He lays himself bare and implores the Lord to “guide me in your truth.” Later he confides, “May integrity and uprightness protect me, because my hope is in you.” Yes, we can live a good and honest life and still face challenges. And, this should come as no surprise to those of us in the later seasons of life; there is no direct correlation between being “good” and being “problem free.” In fact, we should expect life to be a burden. My view is that we should embrace these challenges that affect us all, just as David did. And, we should embrace God as our Lord and Savior, just as David did.

“Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.”   

—Arne Hendrickson

Saturday, February 21: Catherine Blundell

Psalm 42:6. Why are you so full of heaviness, O my soul? And why are you so disquieted within me?

This beautiful psalm is written by someone who is in deep despair and who describes her soul as being so “heavy” and “disquieted” that she cries out for help. She is literally drowning in her own sorrows and feels very anxious and alone and doesn’t know where to turn. The text is really a conversation she is having with herself, asking many questions, “why do I feel like this?”, “how can I get some relief?”, “what can satisfy this longing?”. Having a really deep desire or longing can make you feel so anxious and restless. It’s like a thirst that can’t be quenched, or a hole, or something you feel you’re missing.

At first I thought this was just a sad lament, a song of despair, heaviness and sorrow. But upon more reflection, I now see this passage as a love song. The psalmist is saying, “I am far from you now God, probably due to my own foolishness and wanderings. I thought I could fill up my soul with worldly things, but now I’m miserable. I need you, God. Please come be with me and help me quiet my troubled soul!”

I think we’ve all felt a longing like this at times and have tried various things to soothe that feeling of emptiness. Some distractions work for a while, but we are usually left feeling pretty empty. I hope during Lent, when I feel empty or anxious or even despairing, that I will recognize it as my need for God in my life. Instead of trying to fill my desire with self-importance, excess, or ego-driven things, I will recognize the longing I feel as a deep need for a relationship with the Divine Lover. When things feel heavy and unsettled, I’ll try to remember to seek out the only true refreshment for my soul. In the midst of my sorrow, I will sing a love song to God.                    

—Catherine Blundell

Friday, February 20: Colin Radford

John 1:38-39. [The disciples said], “Rabbi, where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.”

Humpback whales are back, giving birth out front. Lent evokes thanks for their protection and for the loving sacrifices of missionaries who shared the shores of Pacific islands where the whaling crews celebrated the harvest of the ancestors of these whales. The church I attend on Maui is in the ruins of one built by one of Hawaii’s earliest homegrown protestant ministers, David Malu. It is an open air sanctuary shaded by old kiawe trees, a great place to give thanks and praise.

JESUS CHRIST: Holy Word incarnate, chosen by God, son of a carpenter and a young virgin from Nazareth, Lamb of God yet shepherd of mankind, foretold by generations of prophets, open and accessible friend, and mentor and leader. He was raised to work, fish, build, read, write, and question. He observed the culture and rules of the community within which he lived, yet was recognized by his family as the Son of God not yet ready until introduced by the Baptist. No top-down me-first executive leader, our Lord chose to share a hospitality of mentorship.

In John 1:35-51, Jesus draws to him apostles from a community so hungry for a Messiah of hope and freedom from oppressions that they walk out into the wilderness to hear the passionate and seemingly wild prophecies of “Nature Man” John the Baptist. Would they find a new Moses to deliver them? Instead they found a friend and mentor who first shared only hospitality: “Come and See.” They followed Jesus to where he lived, and they stayed the entire afternoon. And much longer.

How often and how far that hospitality has resonated. How many of our heroes have shared those simple words, “Come and See.”          

                                                                                   —Colin Radford

Thursday, February 19: Anne Rosnow

Psalm 37:1. Do not fret yourself...Be still before the Lord.

De-flate Gate. 

Watching a driver with one passenger whiz by you in the carpool lane while you sit late, in traffic.

Realizing your bank account has been hacked and you’ve “purchased” many luxury items (that you don’t even get to enjoy). 

Knowing a classmate cheated and received an “A” when you studied for hours and barely passed the test. 

Watching a co-worker accept public recognition for a project he or she wasn’t fully engaged in. 

Have you ever felt frustration that those around you have cheated the system and come out ahead? 

David’s Psalm: 37: 1-8 reminds me that even when it appears that others have chosen the easier, more prosperous path, by focusing on our own behavior versus dwelling on that of others’, we will more fully feel God’s presence. As verse three of the Psalm reminds us: Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart. This passage is a helpful reminder that even though doing the right thing is almost always is the harder path (and you don’t always get the outcome you hope for), you have the joy of knowing that you have honored God in your actions. Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn.

                                                                                                                       —Anne Rosnow 

Ash Wednesday, February 18: Bishop Greg Rickel

John 6:60. When many of the disciples heard it, they said, “This teaching is difficult.”

This teaching is difficult, who can accept it? Today, you might hear someone say, “are you really going to swallow that?” Yes, in our generation, it might just be blown off entirely. Seems really weird. Even then, they were probably scratching their heads, or worse, totally scandalized. To the Jew, taking in any blood was scandalous. But, all one must do is go back and read what all led up to this. Jesus was laying the ground work, trying to make clear just how close, how committed he was asking his disciples to be.

One of the lessons in the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd curriculum for young children regarding the Eucharist starts with the catechist pouring wine into a chalice. The catechist says to the children, “this is Jesus.” Then he or she will take a cruet of water and say to them, “this is you.” As is often the case in Catechesis, the children will be offered a chance to see the chalice and the wine and look into it. “This is Jesus,” while they are looking into it. Same with the water.

Then the catechist pours a little water into the wine, and then asks, “Now, can you get ‘you’ out of Jesus?” And again, shows the children the wine. I love this so much. It is what I would use in Inquirer’s classes, with adults, to answer their questions as to “why does the priest pour water into the wine?”

This is much the same as what Jesus was saying to the people. It is not enough to simply say you believe, to give it lip service. You had to truly “ingest it,” take it in, make it part of you so that it could not be taken out, even if you wanted it to be. That close. What a gift!

                                                                        —The Rt. Rev. Greg Rickel, Bishop of Olympia

Fr Jim's Ten Best Jesus Movies

The season of Epiphany celebrates the "showing" of Christ to the world. The Rev. Jim Friedrich posts his list of the ten best films about Jesus, including his comments about what makes them worth watching.

After you read his blog entry, we'd like to hear what you think. Your questions or comments are welcome!