Tuesday, March 31: The Rev. Steve Best

John 12:24. [Jesus said], “Very truly, I tell you unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain.”

It was a cold November several years ago when a couple hundred grieving friends and family crammed into the undercroft of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church on Bainbridge Island. We were there to honor Marilyn Brandenburg a beloved deacon in our diocese, jazz musician, former first grade teacher, lay Franciscan, and dear friend. I remember seeing her ashes on top of the make-shift altar. The canister of her remains was covered by a very unusual pall: a bright rainbow colored wig that she had worn after losing most of her hair. Even in her dying Marilyn had a great sense of joy and poked fun at death itself. But the part of her story I cherish the most is that of her being foolish for thinking she could make a difference in the world. Frequently we find ourselves soaked in pessimism and discouragement as we age; youthful idealism often turning to hopelessness about making a real difference in world. I have often wondered how the original disciples felt as Jesus walked the road to the Cross, seeing all of their hopes and dreams evaporate before their very eyes. After receiving a diagnosis of cancer Marilyn kept on doing what she loved but with even more intensity. I will never forget witnessing the fruits of Marilyn’s ministry to the incarcerated women at Purdy whose lives were often hard and joyless. One day we Franciscans joined her inside the prison walls, along with our bishop, to witness Crystal’s confirmation and entrance into the Episcopal Church. Who would have thought that a grain of wheat could have grown in such harsh conditions and become so much more? I can hear Marilyn’s winsome voice in my ear “What are you saving yourself for, my dear, a diagnosis?”

 —The Rev. Steve Best

Monday, March 30: Rev. Kathryn Ballinger, Deacon

Isaiah 42:1. “Here is my servant, whom I uphold.”

From an early age, I knew or rather felt called to live a useful, and hopefully, altruistic life. I could have chosen to become an airline stewardess and satisfy my desire for adventure and travel and to see the world. I could have chosen to be an interior designer to express my creative sense and love of all things beautiful in architecture, color and design. But I wanted my life to have meaning and I wanted to serve others. Thus I chose nursing as my vocation with every intent of joining the Peace Corps and going to Africa. Then later that lead into counseling and spiritual direction. This is how I identify with this passage of scripture.

The prophet Deutero-Isaiah speaks to the exiles still recovering from the trauma of the Babylonian invasion. So how does a prophet speak to a people who feel God has deserted them? Not an easy task. The prophet uses some very creative imagery to help the people live in the midst of their terrible chaos. He speaks of God as a mighty warrior who will deliver them as well as a shepherd who carries the little lambs on his bosom.

In Isaiah, we first encounter the image of the suffering servant of God. One who is described as a bruised reed and a dimly burning wick. Because God’s spirit works through him, the servant will not be broken or quenched.

The servant is an example of power in vulnerability. It is power that does not scream or shout or use brutal force. It is life-giving power that is far reaching and bears much fruit. Much later the Gospel writers point to these passages and to Jesus as their fulfillment.

The world today still finds itself in chaos and despair, no more than bruised reeds and dimly burning wicks. All seems fractured and cracked, but that is where the light of God comes in. His grace and power works where we are most broken, weak and fragile. This extraordinary power belongs to God alone and is not from us. When we open to this power in our own vulnerability, we find we can make a difference in the lives of those around us. This power grows out of compassion and concern for the needs of others. Through God’s power of compassion and mercy we can make a difference and God himself will uphold us.                       

— The Rev. Kathryn Ballinger, Deacon

Sunday, March 29 - Palm Sunday: Brian Gregory

Mark 14:36. [Jesus said], “Not what I want, but what you want.”

There are times when I forget just how human Jesus was. All of our talk of miracles, resurrection, his deep and intimate relationship with God the Father…I can make Jesus out in my head to be something he surely was not. Certainly Jesus was not any ordinary human being—he was Emmanuel, God with us; the eternal Word made flesh; God’s only begotten Son—but we cannot forget that his humanity led to all the grief, hurt, sorrows, anxieties, and the joys that we experience.

Disconnected from the verses that come immediately before, the verse for today can lead us to seeing the soon to be crucified Jesus as a stoic and eager participant in his death. What we miss in this one verse is the agony, heartbreak, and fear that led Jesus to tell his disciples, “I am deeply grieved, even to death…” (14:34). And we miss Jesus’ plea, “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me…” The surrender to God’s will, the openness to what will come, letting go…these come after the agony and the honesty of “I don’t want to do this.” But it is only in surrender, only in opening up to God’s will, that we find the hope of resurrection.

The resurrection that comes in a few days is only possible because Jesus let go. Loss, grief, even death always precede resurrection. As I think about my own life, there are certainly things that I hold to with a tight grip—unwilling to let go and surrender to God’s will. I want what comes at the end of the story, I want resurrection and new life, but without the agony of saying, “Not what I want, but what you want.” May God give us all the grace and courage to let go so that we may experience something new.                                                                        

 —Brian Gregory

Saturday, March 28: Jannie Best

Psalm 137:1. By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, when we remembered you, O Zion.”

The captives sought the river side,

            water flowed in sympathy with their tears.

Sitting down to rest and to find solace in their sorrow,

            tears mingled with their memories.

The ground upon which they sat was foreign soil,

            made them weep even more.

For they remembered bitter banishment from Jerusalem,

            the palace of their king and the temple of their God.

Feelings of helplessness under a cruel enemy,

            unbearable for all.

In time, the memory of their oppression,

            dried their tears and calmed their anger.

Helping them to remember,

            Jerusalem was forever written on their hearts.                      

—Jannie Best

Friday, March 27: Mitchell Eggenberger

John 12:7. [Jesus said], “Leave her alone.”

In this passage Jesus is in the home of Lazarus eating dinner with some of his disciples, as well as with Mary. As Mary anoints Jesus with perfume, the disciple who is about to betray Jesus asks Mary why the perfume is not sold. Jesus knows that the disciple, Judas Iscariot, is doing this out of interest not for the community as he stated and for his own monetary interests. Jesus said ‘Leave her alone’

In this moment Jesus recognizes that Judas is being dishonest and prevents Judas from harassing Mary. At the time the others at the table and Mary had no clue that Judas was in fact being dishonest and was stealing. However Jesus knew of Judas’ deeds and prevented the further spread. Jesus in this passage defended Mary, while at the same time condemning the criminal. Jesus demonstrates that he will always be our “safety net” when we are put in harm’s way. Jesus will always be there for all of us in protecting us from future harm. With this knowledge I always know that the decisions I am making will be for the good of myself, others and the greater community. God reminds us through Jesus he is the guardian of the faithful.

This passage can be interpreted quite literally as Jesus simply preventing crime and defending the innocent as stated above, yet Jesus’ words can be applied to a multitude of situations. Jesus knows what is right for us and will steer us back onto course if we stray from the path, even if we cannot comprehend or understand the reason at the time, just as the unknowing Mary and disciples during this dinner.

This passage reaffirms my belief that Jesus is the protector of society from all things evil and that he will always be there to right our spiritual ship.                                                                        

—Mitchell Eggenberger

Thursday, March 26: Aileen Loranger

John 10:25. [Jesus said], “I have told you, and you do not believe.”

In the 1950’s, my father was an up-and-coming chemical engineer with Esso Research and Development, having survived the Great Depression during his childhood in Brooklyn, NY. My brother and I were very fortunate to be children of privilege in the suburbs of northern New Jersey. “If I told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times…” My father’s voice echoes in my memory. I can still hear his irritated frustration, “Turn off the lights! Close the door or you’ll let out all the heat! Don’t let the screen door slam!” While he may have thought I wasn’t listening (a child eager to run out and play), to this day I unconsciously turn off the lights out of a habit that started with paying attention to my dad’s voice. More importantly, he set the example, reinforcing his convictions about energy conservation and frugality. I can still see him in my mind’s eye, going from room to room, shutting off the lights behind us.

I imagine that same tone in Jesus’ voice. I hear his mounting disdain with the Jews in the Temple. Jesus is cagey with these inquisitors as they implore him to tell them once and for all that he is indeed the Messiah. “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me.” Jesus seems to be saying, ‘if you’d only pay attention, you’d know who I am. My followers believe because they have been listening, paying close attention and recognizing that my actions speak louder than words to reveal who I am.’ Jesus concludes with, “The Father and I are one.”

Jesus reveals who he is through his ministry of preaching and teaching, healing and performing miracles such as the feeding of the 5,000 and changing the water into wine. Jesus’s actions are not to prove his credentials, but to reveal the fulfillment of God’s redeeming love for the world.

Lent offers us an opportunity to deepen our commitment to a way of life, as followers of Jesus Christ. Lent provides us another chance to listen more carefully and focus our attention, reflect upon our patterns, intentionally re-turn to God, respond to those in need and put God’s love into action. What is the Good Shepherd calling you to?        

—Aileen Loranger

Wednesday, March 25: Zonnie Breckinridge

Luke 1:38. Then the angel departed from her.

This verse marks the end of the passage that is very familiar to most, if not all, of us, the Annunciation to the Virgin Mary by the Angel Gabriel that she would conceive and become the mother of Jesus. I am (and perhaps many of you are) when hearing or reading this passage, typically drawn to the calling out of Mary as God’s “favored one” and Mary’s ultimate acceptance in humility of this frightening and awesome condition.

This time, when I read the passage as I was preparing my Lenten reflection, I was struck, for the first time, by the role of the Angel Gabriel. What came to me almost immediately is how much I rely on God’s angels to guide and comfort me and to help in answering my prayers. I pray to the angels quite often, particularly when I or those close to me need to make an important decision or when we find ourselves in difficult circumstances. I’m not sure why this has become my practice, certainly in part due to my Roman Catholic upbringing and childish sense that I am not worthy enough to ask God directly. But, also and more importantly, because I truly believe that there are angels who are messengers of God, and they are here to be with us, holding us and helping us to discern how God is calling us to respond to life’s challenges, just as did the Angel Gabriel in the Bible passage above. I believe the angel was not simply God’s emissary, but was a divine light, guiding Mary as she contemplated the mighty circumstance put before her. Like Mary, we too can count on the angels to be with us, to hold and to guide us as we endeavor to discern God’s will for us in our life’s journey.

“Angel of God, my Guardian dear, to whom His love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen.” (The Guardian Angel Prayer) 

—Zonnie Breckinridge

Tuesday, March 24: Dick Rogers

Romans 10:10. (NIV) With your heart you believe and are made right with God. With your mouth you say Jesus is Lord. And so you are saved.

Paul has made clear previously that slavishly following religious rituals is not the way to an empowering relationship with God. What is required is total commitment to doing God’s will not your own will or that of the religious establishment. This requires totally embracing Christ’s journey. Our rebirth in Baptism, our trials, tribulations and joy in God’s Grace, our death and resurrection all the time under God’s direction not our own.

To live under God’s direction means opening your heart’s doors to God’s word. For me this means studying scripture and digesting it.

Praying about it. Silence. Listening for God’s voice. Claiming the word by speaking it out loud.

For me, being saved in this setting means giving yourself up totally to God’s direction in your daily life. Can I do this on my own energy?

Absolutely not! Only with the help of the Holy Spirit, Jesus’s gift to us, is it possible. With your mouth you say Jesus is Lord (out loud) and so you are saved and empowered! 

—Dick Rogers

Monday, March 23: Bonnie Palevich

John 9:1. As [Jesus] walked along, he saw a man blind from birth.

Let’s try to walk along with Jesus, or at least keep up at a fast trot, for as John tells us earlier, he was fresh from dodging stones back at the temple where he had incurred the wrath of the Pharisees for claiming his divine birthright.

His encounter with the blind-from-birth beggar will do as much to prove his divinity, as to help seal his death sentence.

“Seeing the blind man” sets the stage for countless interpretive counterpoints to come: to see, not to see; to be blind and see; to be sighted and not see; darkness, despair, light of the world; and a miracle only the Son of Man could perform.

It begins with the disciples expressing a bland curiosity about the cause of the blind man’s affliction. They speculate as Pharisees might, whether it was because of his own sin, or that of his parents. Biblical scholars cite that congenital blindness at birth was wide-spread in those days, often the result of venereal disease.

But Jesus will have none of it, answering, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”

Then Jesus signals he feels the enormous pressure of time running out, saying “We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day: night is coming when no one can work.”

He performs a curious act, spitting on the ground to make a sort of mud poultice and smears it on the man’s eyes, instructing him to go and wash in the pool of Siloam. The blind man follows the instructions and returns miraculously as a sighted man, his identity confirmed by his parents.

Lenten Reflection: Dear Lord, help me find my blind spot during this 2015 Lenten Reflection, and spotlight my path to dissolve those scales from my eyes.                                                                 

—Bonnie Palevich

Sunday, March 22: John & Trish Heller

John 12:21. [The Greeks said], “Sir we wish to see Jesus.”

We want to share a story about something that happened to John as told by him.

Last year, I received an unexpected call that changed my life. The call came from a professional colleague (We’ll call her “Amy”), a successful real estate broker, inquiring on behalf a personal friend about a property we owned. For professional reasons, Amy didn’t mention her friend’s name, but mentioned her client/friend was a therapist in Seattle who had just retired from a long and very successful practice of giving professional advice, often to many well-known people in our region. I said something like “Wow, it must be interesting to have such a friend. I’m sure she has some amazing insights after such a career.” Without hesitation, Amy replied, “Oh yes, my friend, when reflecting over her 35 years of work, told me that she could distill her advice to virtually every client to three simple words.. ‘Let – it – go.’” At once, I was taken aback, realizing what an amazing statement I had just heard. These three words still resonate with me.

Can we “let go” of our past and current hurts, pains and desires during this Lenten season? How about starting right now by identifying just one? Trish and I acknowledge from personal experience just how difficult this can be, but scripture tells us we can, and when we do, there is immense freedom and peace….Wow, freedom and peace!

“Sir, we would like to see Jesus” is what some Greeks said to Philip while Jesus was making his triumphant ride on a donkey to Jerusalem, knowing of his imminent death. Why do you think they wanted to see him? Scripture tells us one of the reasons was because Jesus had literally brought Lazarus back from the dead. And what was Jesus’ immediate response to the Greeks’ request after first foretelling of his death? Essentially Jesus said we must all “let go” and die to self and follow him.

Lenten season is a reminder for Trish and me to “let go,” not just of our hurts and pains, but also of our lives for Jesus, so that perhaps we can see Him, the ultimate expression of freedom and peace.

—John & Trish Heller

Saturday, March 21: Bea Covington

Isaiah 58:6-7. Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice...to let the oppressed go free...Is it not to share your bread with the hungry...?

Shortly after arriving at my first overseas post, square in the middle of a Muslim country, at the advent of the month of Ramadan (when Muslims fast from dawn to dusk for a lunar month), I found myself engaged in the first of what would, over the course of a 20 plus year career with many assignments in Islamic states, become a recurring conversation topic “So, are you going to fast or not?” my colleague asked.

In an environment where the fast is all encompassing (not even swallowing of one’s own saliva is allowed during the fast period among the devout) and where fasting is a national, public endeavor, with business, banking and school hours adjusted to accommodate the fast—one’s response is no small consideration.

This passage pulled me back to that memory because my first response to that question so many years ago was “Why?, Why would I?” Isaiah gets at that “why” in this passage. We tend to think of fasting, or the other deprivations of Lent (and the additions too, for that matter) in terms of personal challenge and in terms of personal growth and change. This passage, and this portion in particular, reminds me that my personal choices have larger impacts. The decisions I make, the things I choose to do or not to do, have implications and ramifications beyond my “known”. Isaiah invites me to think more broadly about “why” and “for what purpose.” I invite you to do the same. 

—Bea Covington

Good Friday Offering Supports the Diocese of Jerusalem

By Mary Pneuman

In a video message to the Diocese of Olympia, Bishop Rickel encourages all congregations and members of the diocese to gather funds throughout Lent for special missionary purposes. The bishop asks only that “it truly be given to missionary work outside our local selves.” While it is up to parishes and individuals to determine where to direct their giving, he went on to say, “If you are having trouble deciding where you might direct such an offering, I would commend to you the Good Friday Offering. Since 1922, Episcopalians have supported the ministries of the Episcopal Church in Jerusalem and the Middle East through the Good Friday Offering. There is an even more direct connection for us in the Diocese of Olympia, since we have a longstanding companion relationship with the Diocese of Jerusalem.”

Over the last few years at St. Thomas, the Good Friday Offering has made a commitment to walk with our companions in the Diocese of Jerusalem: the Arab Episcopal School for the Blind in Irbid, Jordan (AES) and the boarding, preschool, and afterschool daycare programs of the Evangelical Home for Children in Ramallah. In addition, St. Thomas has provided support to Gaza’s Ahli Arab Hospital in times of great need. All three missions promote peaceful relationships between Christian and Muslim families.

Since the beginning of the present school year, letter and newsletter updates from Sister Najah Rantisi, director of the Home for Children, and Fr. Samir Esaid, director of AES, indicate program growth that serves an increasing number of children and families. At the Home, enlargement and improvement of playground facilities for about 100 preschool, daycare, and boarding children is under way; at AES, student enrollment has increased to 259, including 29 blind and 14 vision-impaired children. Both administrators express appreciation for the continuing support from St. Thomas.

Throughout Lent and Holy Week, please give from the heart and support our companions in Christ. Make your check payable to St. Thomas, writing Good Friday Offering on the memo line and place it in the offering plate or deliver it to the office.

With thanks from the St. Thomas Companions Committee

Friday, March 20: The Williams Family

Romans 8:28. We know that all things work together for good for those who love God.

This passage begins with a lot of emotion—it speaks of sufferings and glory, groaning while awaiting redemption. But it ends peacefully, with quiet confidence. The passage speaks in two different places about what “we know”: “we know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains” and “we know that all things work together for good for those who love God.” How can we reconcile these two ideas? How can we acknowledge the real suffering that we see in the world even today, and yet also believe in—and help to foster—the goodness that is present in others and ourselves? The answer is through hope, which we can maintain with the support of the Holy Spirit. Paul urges us to have confidence in God’s call to a “large family” conforming to Jesus’s image. We must hope for the manifestation of this “with patience,” letting the Spirit help us. We shouldn’t be impatient for God’s Word to be recognized, or get annoyed if it takes longer than is convenient for us. We should be confident in our God, and, in the meantime, live a life in Christ’s image, doing our part to bring about the glory promised in the paragraph. We shouldn’t get pessimistic about the world, even when suffering is apparent, but should keep our faith in God. In daily life, if you’re going through a difficult time and can’t quite see the light at the end of the tunnel, don’t stress. Don’t fall into despair. Put your faith and reliance in God, and wait patiently for the resolution you cannot see, trusting that God will help you pull through and deliver you into salvation.                                                                                                 

—The Williams Family

Thursday, March 19: Curt Young

Luke 2:49. [Jesus said], “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”

The occasion for the above passage is the response Jesus gave to his parents upon being discovered by them in the temple in Jerusalem, where Joseph and Mary had made the annual journey from Nazareth to observe the feast of the Passover.

Since a Jewish boy became a man at 12 years of age, and thus became a son of the law and had to assume the obligations of the law, Joseph and Mary had brought Jesus with them.

At the conclusion of the feast Joseph and Mary, separately, joined the return caravan, assuming that Jesus was among the travelers, but the first evening they discovered that he was missing. When they could not find him they returned to Jerusalem, and after three days found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. All who heard Jesus were amazed at his understanding and his answers.

Mary, evidencing her maternal concern over the past three days, inquired of him “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.” Jesus, perhaps now asserting his filial independence for the first time, inquired back, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”

Note the distinction between “father” and “Father.” Jesus gently, but very definitely, takes the name “father” from Joseph and gives it to God. As his childhood years have now officially passed with his first Passover, Jesus has the realization that he was, uniquely, the Son of God.

Notwithstanding this realization, Jesus later returned home to Nazareth with his parents and “he was obedient to them,” demonstrating that the real man of God continues to respect his earthly ties.

—Curt Young

Wednesday, March 18: Alyce Rogers

John 6:38. For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, the will of him who sent me.

This passage spoken by Jesus is awesome, sad, comforting, and challenging to me. Awesome, because God loves us so much that he wanted to send us a savior in human form so that we could really see and hear Him and be in relationship to Him; sad, because this little baby would grow, be rejected, suffer, and ultimately die to show us his love; comforting, because Jesus said that ‘this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day”; challenging, because I want to be all that He wills for me.

Often in the mornings, I sit at a small table by the window overlooking birch trees and the driveway that crosses a creek and wind my beloved Aunt’s gold pocket watch. She was the person during my growing up years that loved me unconditionally and I can feel her presence in the touch of that watch. I pray for my family and those names that seem to rise to the surface and at the end I ask that Jesus will make me aware during the day of doing His will and not my own. In the touch of that watch, I can sometimes feel and hear Jesus speaking in my heart. I regret that this does not always lead to a successful day, but it does make me more aware of living with purpose.

I am in the senior years of my life and I am finally realizing that it is not measured in triumphs and defeats, but in loving and not losing what has been and will be placed in my little life.

My prayer for all of you is that you, too, will rest in the knowledge of just how much God loves each one of us and that the wonderful plans He has prepared for you will be revealed as you seek Him!

 —Alyce Rogers 

Tuesday, March 17: Stephanie Curry

Romans 7:15. I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.

During group sharing at the recent St. Thomas women’s retreat, one attendee remarked about the importance of “just showing up.” Those words have stayed with me. Just show up.

Showing up for worship services is wonderful, but Lent also means going deeper in my spiritual journey. What more can I do? I have great intentions. For example, I would like to spend more time reading scripture and meditating on Christ. I would like to make outward sacrifices that take me out of my comfort zone so I can be more in tune with God’s love for me and the world. I would like to … I would like to … I would like to …

There will be times this Lenten season where I do “show up” and do things that deepen my Christian life. But I also know there will be plenty of times I will not do the things I want to do, but will succumb to the tyranny of the urgent. Again, I know what I want to do, but I do not do it.

The key for me is to “just show up.” Not just physically, but to be very present to the Presence. In her book The Sacred Gaze, Susan Pitchford offers many ideas and tools I find helpful. Opening scripture or a book like Pitchford’s is a meaningful way of “just showing up” for me. And when I do, Jesus always shows up, easing my frustrations about not getting it right, not doing what I want, but doing those things that disappoint. His loving Presence shows up and I am blessed

—Stephanie Curry

Monday, March 16: Michelle Jewell

John 6:12. When they were satisfied, [Jesus] told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.”

LEFTOVERS! WHAT! 5 loaves of bread and 2 fishes for 5000 people and you’re asking us to gather leftovers!

So many of us think of this Bread & Fishes story as a miracle, as though Jesus magically created food out of thin air to feed to the masses, so much food in fact that there were LEFTOVERS. A miracle, right?

Wrong. We’re not talking about magically appearing “food” here are we? We’re talking about God’s ability to fill people with “spiritual food,” bountiful amounts of spiritual food that leads to satisfaction with leftovers.

Can’t you just close your eyes and see the disciples panicking about the logistics of feeding the masses. And yet we clearly sense that Jesus was entirely collected, not worried in the least. Was Jesus the only one present that day who was capable of completely trusting in God’s ability to provide?

Are we capable of this kind of trust? Do we honestly trust in God ability to provide for us. Can we eat up the lord’s word until we’re so satisfied that we have leftovers to share? “Take, eat … drink this all of you…” his offering of food and/or spiritual food is made to us in mass every single Sunday and there is always enough, right? I don’t know about you, but I venture out of the parking lot on Sunday completely satisfied with both food and spiritual substance. Enough in fact that I’m ready to share with family and friends (leftovers).

Take, eat, drink this all of you and lose yourselves in what has been provided to us. In fact, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.”

 —Michelle Jewell

Sunday, March 15: Joanne DelBene

John 3:16. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may no perish but may have eternal life.

This very familiar verse from the Gospel of John takes on richer meaning when I pause prayerfully and consider it in depth. For much of my life I felt overwhelmed by the power of these words: For God so loved the world. I wanted to grasp and understand that love, experience that love. I would catch glimpses: looking in the eyes of my newborn child, watching a sunset, skiing down a snow-covered mountain. Over the years God’s love has become increasingly more present to me. I am not sure how that happened. It seemed like I was just living my life and paying attention.

Marcus Borg in The Heart of Christianity brought clarification to that question when he defined spirituality as “becoming conscious of and intentional about a deepening relationship with God. …we are already in a relationship with God…spirituality is about becoming aware of a relationship that already exists.” Richard Rohr in his Daily Meditation on February 3 put it this way: “So God planted a little bit of God in you (Romans 5:5) … . We call it the Indwelling Holy Spirit, and it’s the part of us that just keeps yearning for God.” And to think that is what my paying attention was all about!

All of this was done and is being done in community with others who are on their own journey and inform my journey as I do theirs. Now, when overwhelmed by the power of the words, For God so loved the world, I can say yes to:

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength….You shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Mark 12:30-31)

  —Joanne DelBene

Saturday, March 14: Cheryl Tyson

Romans 6:17-18. But thanks be to God that you, having once been slaves of sin, have become obedient from the heart to the form of teaching to which you were entrusted, and that you, having been set free from sin, have become slaves of righteousness.

We have heard sin described as being separated from God; estranged; apart; lost. How much more compassionate and hopeful it is to view sin as being lost, instead of being evil. If lost, then how do we find God? Romans 6:17-18 answers that question.

This scripture instructs us to find God not through opening our mind to Him, but in opening our heart. It suggests that when we open our heart, we fall in love with God with such sweet abandon that He becomes part of us, His will and teachings become part of our nature.

But once this transformation occurs, is it complete? Do we never lose sight of God again? Unfortunately, no. But, God’s love for us is complete, unending. So, by sincerely “Asking our most merciful God to forgive us, we may delight in his will,” again, and again, and again.

We are never truly lost or estranged from our loving Father. For, as in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, when we return to our Heavenly Father with an open heart, he is waiting with open arms.

Lord, thank you for your unyielding love for us and for your gift of the confession of our sins as a path to find our way back to you. Amen. 

  —Cheryl Tyson

The Return of the Prodigal Son
Pompeo Batoni (1773)

Friday, March 13: John, Jan, Sam Wang

John 8:39-40. They answered him, “Abraham is our father.” Jesus said to them, “If you were Abraham’s children you would be doing what Abraham did, but now you are trying to kill me, a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God. This is not what Abraham did.”

This passage seems somewhat innocuous and self-evident upon first reading, but as is so often the case with scripture…all is not what it seems. So, how do we begin? First, we should look at the context in which we find this passage. At the beginning of the chapter, the Pharisees bring a woman before Jesus in the temple. They test him by saying the Law (of Moses) requires that they stone her. They do this to challenge Jesus, in the hope that they can find an excuse to—at the very least—get him out of the temple. He counters them with the famous challenge of his own: “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Ashamed, the people all drift away and Jesus asks the woman if anyone condemned her, to which she replies, “no one.” Jesus then says that he does not condemn her either, and that she should go and sin no more. So here we see Jesus
cleverly defying traditional views about sin and punishment.

Skipping ahead for a moment, we go to the beginning of Chapter 9 and we hear a story about a blind man. The disciples ask Jesus whether it was the man’s sin or the parents’ sin that caused such an affliction. Again we see traditional views about sin, the law, and consequences presented to test Jesus. He responds to this challenge by telling the disciples that the blind man suffers so that God’s will can be revealed through him. Jesus then heals the blind man, again countering the old attitudes that justify all suffering as punishment for one’s bad behavior.

So we see that Chapter 8 is framed on both sides by stories of Jesus challenging people’s beliefs about how to measure oneself as sinful or righteous, and we see this same message in the body of the chapter. Jesus is trying to explain that even while acting according to the law, the Hebrew people are still living in sin. They have become so attached to their rules that they have lost their ability to reflect on their own actions. He is trying to tell them that although they follow the law, it does not automatically make them righteous.

Jesus wants the people to see that just following man’s law is not the message he has for them. Jesus says, “You should do what you have heard from the Father,” but they do not realize that he is speaking of God. They immediately respond by saying—at the beginning of this passage—“Abraham is our father.” Jesus is frustrated here at their lack of understanding so he switches gears and talks about Abraham as the father, and implies that if they really did follow Abraham’s beliefs and values, they would not be acting as he sees them now. He makes it clear that they are not doing the right thing with regard to Abraham or God. After this passage, the people continue to quibble with him, trying to find any justification to silence or invalidate his message—exactly as he claims when he says “…but now you are trying to kill me.” Jesus finally lets loose and says very directly,

“If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and now I am here… Why do you not understand what I say? It is because you cannot accept my word.”

What we see here is Jesus essentially repeating what he said before in John 8:39-40, but using God as the Father instead of Abraham. He is trying desperately to get the people to recognize that their hubris—their steadfast belief that they know best—has led them astray and is preventing them from hearing God’s message. He is trying to say that their dependence on law and ancestry as the only measure of righteousness is little more than a comfortable lie—and deep in their hearts, they know it.

So in this Lenten season, what does this passage mean for us? Perhaps it is saying that what we need is to quiet the clamor of our judgments, our excuses, and our pride, so that we can listen clearly to the Word that God is yearning to tell us.  

    

 —John, Jan, Sam Wang

Thursday, March 12: Harriett Gill

Psalm 85:9-10. Truly, his salvation is very near to those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land. Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.

These comforting words come to an Israel that feels like it has lost its relationship with the Lord. And these words are not enough for Israel. Are they enough for us?. The Israelites longed for love and intimacy with God once more. They are just like us! We want the Lord to forgive us for our wrongdoings, and of course He does, for our God is gracious and loving. The problem is that although the Lord forgives us, we still feel pain, guilt and shame for our wrongdoing. We know that God forgives us, but in our distressing humanness the pain still lingers. Perhaps we need to feel that pain for a bit, but we also need to believe, to digest and believe again the words of His great love. We need not only to listen, but to digest and truly believe the words of God’s great love. I have repeated this twice because it is so important for us to truly trust that the Lord forgives us. We have difficulty truly understanding His love because in comparison, our love is so small. God’s love is a love that is there for all of us and all we have to do to receive it, is say “Yes!” to the Lord. Surely His salvation is very near to those who fear Him that His glory may dwell in our land. Mercy and Truth have met together, righteousness and grace have kissed each other!

Oh, what wondrous Love this is!   

 —Harriett Gill

Wednesday, March 11: Tim Blok

John 8:19. Then [the Pharisees] said to him, “Where is your Father?” Jesus answered, “You know neither me nor my Father. If you know me, you would know my Father also.”

This passage begins with one of those hypnotic Biblical phrases that I dearly love: “Again Jesus spoke to them, saying…” Such a loaded word, “again.” Nothing to this point seems to have gotten through. What next? Pull back, regroup, and try again. The great patience of Jesus.

The “them” here is the Pharisees, and they just don’t get it. Maybe they are so wrapped up in following the law that they can’t adjust to a new way of living. Maybe they are power-hungry and self-absorbed. Maybe, to borrow another hypnotic (and terrifying) Biblical phrase, their hearts are hardened. Here in John’s gospel, Jesus offers some of his most expansive and precious ideas: “I am the light of the world”; “I judge no one”; “If you knew me, you would know my Father also.” Despite what Jesus is offering, the Pharisees keep poking him with questions, looking for holes in the story, trying to find answers without letting go of their comfortable right-ness.

The Pharisees miss the point. So, I would wager, do I. I want to read this passage over and over again until it clicks, or until I can answer all my questions and explain away any ambiguities. I want to break it down until it makes sense. I would like to do the same with Lent: to know what to expect, or to find answers to all my questions.

Marilynne Robinson, a writer who has given me life more than any other, talks about Scripture thus: “What can these strange stories mean? After so much time and event and so much revelation, the mystery is only compounded.” Why is it so hard to live with mystery? And what sort of delusional monster would I be to think that I have a handle on any of this? This seems appropriate for Lent, a season of mystery that could be prefaced by the same phrase: “Again Jesus spoke to them, saying...” I can imagine it as a personal address: “You missed a few things last time. Let’s try again.”                                                                                       

—Tim Blok

Tuesday, March 10: Tammy Waddell

John 7:37-38. [Jesus said], “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’”

As I reflect on this passage I am reminded of how water plays a role in stories from the bible and is an essential part of our lives. When I tell the baptism story to families preparing for baptism, I pour water into a bowl and say, “This is the water of creation. It is also the water people walked through to freedom, the water Jesus was baptized in, and the water you were or will be baptized in.” We sing about wading in the water, Moses was saved in the waters of the Nile, we wash our feet in water, and so much more. I believe these references to be the “flowing rivers of living water, out of the hearts of believers.” Yet this passage also makes me wonder. I wonder about those who are thirsty. Who are the thirsty ones? “Let the one who believes in me drink.” Who are the ones who do not believe? Do they remain thirsty and are never satisfied? What flows out of the non-believers’ hearts? I want to believe that all may drink who are thirsty. What if I was the one wondering or questioning? While I feel fairly safe in knowing that rivers of living water flow out of my heart, I am concerned about those who are searching for their beliefs, yet are still thirsty. Let them be satisfied in their thirst and come to believe in a Jesus who freely loves. This is the Jesus I love and who satisfies my thirst.
                                                                                                                    

—Tammy Waddell

Monday, March 9: Suzie Franson

John 7:16-17. Then Jesus answered them, “My teaching is not mine but the one who sent me. Anyone who resolves to do the will of God will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own.”

Obedience leads to discernment which builds trust. In John 7 the people were marveling that Jesus knew so much, when he was obviously not formally educated, and the leaders were questioning his authority, since he had not been trained by a rabbi. Jesus responds that his authority and his teaching come from the Lord. Just previously (John 6) Jesus referred to the following prophetic verse: “All your sons will be taught by the Lord, and great will be your children’s peace.” (Isaiah 54:13) So this teaching directly by the Lord is not just reserved for Jesus but is available to all of us.

There is a direct connection between our “follow-ship” and what God can reveal to us. Jesus says we will gain discernment of truth through our obedience to what we already know to be true. I have found in my own life that each act of obedience to what God has placed in front of me has led to a clearer sense of his voice, a greater ability to see him at work, a deeper trust. I have also found that at each decision point I have wished for more clarity, better discernment, a clearer voice before acting. “If only I could be sure it is you, Lord.” Yet it is exactly this stepping out in faith that teaches us.

But don’t miss the promise in the Isaiah verse: “and great will be your children’s peace.” Getting caught in this virtuous cycle of obedience leading to discernment leading to greater obedience leading to deeper discernment, this “teaching by the Lord,” brings us to peace. It builds trust, and deep trust is the source of peace. 

—Suzie Franson

Sunday, March 8: Shirley E. Deffenbaugh

1 Corinthians 1:25. For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

Paul’s assertion about the nature of God evokes for me Jesus’ question, “Who do you say I am?” Paul was writing to settle a squabble in the church at Corinth, but his place in history is not my place. Each of us is called upon to answer the question, “Who is God?”

The greatest thinkers throughout the ages have proposed answers to the big questions, such as “Does God exist?” Often these discourses debate science vs. religion. Even a cursory search turns up articles like The Wall Street Journal  review of American philosopher, scientist, and psychologist William James’ Varieties of Religious Experience (see “Human Nature and the Fruits of Faith” by Joseph Epstein, September 26, 2014). As recently as February 2015, a conference held at the Vatican’s Observatory near Tucson, Arizona, explored the relationship between science and theology (www.icatholic.org/science-and-theology-combine-at-tucsons-vatican-observatory-6037486). The Observatory is run by Jesuits who are also astronomers. Many writers offer perspectives on the nature of God—Shakespeare, Milton, Rilke, Richard Rohr, Cynthia Bourgeault, Reynolds Price, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Denise Levertov, Mary Oliver, and other saints and worthies—the list is long.

One commentator, however, brings great focus for the twenty-first century seeker. In his 2014 book, The Accidental Universe: The World You thought You Knew, Alan Lightman examines the relationship between science and religion. A theoretical physicist as well as a novelist, he has authored numerous scientific papers and six novels. He’s on the faculty at Harvard and teaches creative writing at MIT where he is the first person to receive a dual faculty appointment in science and humanities. He’s a brilliant thinker and poetic writer.

In a chapter entitled “The Spiritual Universe,” he notes that he and several colleagues have for more than ten years met once a month to consider how science and art affect each other. Frequently, he says, “religion slips into the room, unbidden but persistent” (p. 38). He carefully lays out the history of the great debate and declares himself to be an atheist. Science, he says, can’t answer religious questions—they are two separate realms, but, he contends, “. . . science is not the only realm for arriving at knowledge . . . vast territories of the arts concern inner experiences that cannot be analyzed by science. The humanities, such as history and philosophy, raise questions that do not have definite or unanimously accepted answers” (pp.44-45). He believes that God doesn’t exist, yet he describes transcendent experiences beyond any explanation available from his scientific knowledge of the universe. He relates an encounter with fledgling ospreys that can only be called “spiritual,” though he doesn't call it that himself.

Yet, the question remains: “Who do I say God is?” When I ponder this question, two words always emerge—love and mystery. I have experienced love and I have experienced mystery. God is both for me.                  

—Shirley E. Deffenbaugh

Saturday, March 7: Patti Hopper

John 7:6. [Jesus said], “My time has not yet come, but your time is always here.”

As I parked my car at the grocery store, I noticed a man sitting on the bench, surrounded by what appeared to be his belongings. After I got out of my car and headed towards him I told him there was a container of grapes on the front seat of my car and he was welcome to them. I suggested he put the container back in the car. He said, “My name is Herman,” and he smiled broadly and so I told him my name.

I went and did my shopping. When I returned the empty container was back on the seat. “Thank you Patti,” said Herman. I felt like I had a new friend.

My “time” to pass along the teachings of Jesus was, and is, always here.                

  —Patti Hopper

Friday, March 6: Mary Pneuman

John 5:34. I say these things so that you may be saved.

“What will the neighbors say?” is an old refrain that still echoes somewhere in the back of my head, and in truth, much of my understanding of “who I am” has been shaped by approval or disapproval from others. More often than not, I have feared being found lacking (someone once told me I tended to examine my faults “under a microscope.”) Growing up, I depended on my parents or grandparents (and Santa Claus) to decide if I was “bad” or “good”—“okay,” or “not quite okay.” Star stickers, ribbons, medals, grades, achievement and results became the indicators of how well I measured up—if I was worthy of respect and approval—even love from others.

Along the way, I have come to learn that what ”the neighbors” think is often wrong and that the fences I’ve constructed for protection from revealing too much of myself kept me apart from those with whom I yearned to be in closer relationship, especially God.

In John 5:30-47, Jesus reminds us that we will be saved by our belief in Him, not human testimony (including our own). Earlier, He said that even though John the Baptist had testified to the truth, His own testimony was greater because the authority to judge had been given to the Son by the one who sent Him.

So as children of God, we are justified by his Son and are freed from the bondage of false judgment. To be slaves to self-doubt and human judgments separates us from the love of God, who, through Jesus, graces us with perfect freedom to be who we were created to be.

In the interest of compassionate and loving human relationships, it is important to be aware of our shortcomings and consider what our neighbors may think, but we need always to remember that God is our ultimate judge. The Word of God is forever trustworthy and true. We are saved by our faith in Him.              

—Mary Pneuman

Thursday, March 5: Marilyn Pedersen

John 5:19. Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, the Son can do nothing on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, the Son does likewise.”

I read the verses surrounding this passage and rediscovered the story of how the Pharisees were looking for any excuse to persecute Jesus for healing the sick and performing his wondrous miracles. Jesus went to great lengths to explain that his power (gifts) were not his own. God was performing the miracles, Jesus was merely the instrument. Jesus was pointing the way…if you heard Jesus’ words and believed in God, you would not be condemned. There is life after death.

The Christian faith is about believing that the person of Jesus Christ was God connecting with his creation (humanity). The message is clear…there is more to experience after our bodies wear out. Our time on this planet is finite and all too short but this is not all there is. My soul is not imprisoned by the body I currently inhabit. Death is a necessary stage that we all have to experience. The good news that Jesus brought is that my soul will transition into something more wonderful than I can ever imagine.
                                                                                                                   

—Marilyn Pedersen

Wednesday, March 4: Jesse & Lorraine McReynolds

John 5:17. But Jesus answered them, “My Father is still working, and I am also working.”

It is easy for us to reduce our faith into a series of rules: do this, don’t do that; when this happens, make sure that happens too. But to see God’s plan for us as a series of rules, static and knowable, breaks the most important rule of them all: love one another, as Jesus loved us. Because when we love, rules are properly moderated by the acts of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness that are Christ acting through us.

The “them” in this verse are the consummate rule-followers, the Pharisees, and Jesus has explained to them why He dared to heal on the Sabbath. He healed the sick because His work and His Father’s work was not yet done, and no human rules could stop His mercy and forgiveness. God’s love for us sinners is alive, and defies any law that would see it contained.

In this Lenten season, as we reflect on our sinfulness and long to be closer to God, we know that God’s love is boundless and unconstrained by the rules of man. Help us to not seek shelter behind the pious self-defense of “look at me, how good am I, I’m following the rules”—nor conversely, to justify any behavior we want with the lazy claim that the rules don’t apply to us. Rather, may God give us the grace to act with kindness, compassion, and forgiveness as we strive to do His work on earth.
                                                                                                

—Jesse & Lorraine McReynolds

Tuesday, March 3: Kim Malcolm

John 4:48. Then Jesus said to him, “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.”

This verse is from John, part of a longer action-packed passage featuring Jesus teaching and healing. Jesus is busy. En route to Galilee, he encounters the Samaritan woman by Jacob’s well. He stays two more days, gathering more believers. When he gets himself and the disciples to Cana in Galilee, he is visited by a royal, who begs him to save the life of his son, who is close to death with a fever.

I wonder at Jesus’ patience. Hordes of people flock to him, full of questions, desperate to be near the hope that he embodies. Pharisees show up to pepper him with questions and to test him on the law. His disciples don’t take center stage in these passages, but you can almost feel their anxiety leaching from the sidelines—what is He doing? Why is He taking such risks, talking to a Woman Like That? Can you keep an eye on him while we go into town and try to find something to eat?

Jesus is the calm eye of this holy storm, pointing out to us that his promise to us is in every moment. Again and again, he tells us anxious, fearful people that the signs of God’s love for us are ever-present—if we only open our eyes and look.

This morning I read a letter sent by a young American aid worker to her family, written while she was in captivity in Syria last year. She writes, “I have come to a place in experience where, in every sense of the word, I have surrendered myself to our creator b/c literally there was no else. + by God + by your prayers I have felt tenderly cradled in freefall.” Even in her prison, with darkness approaching, she saw the signs. I hope I can open my eyes, also. 

—Kim Malcom

Monday, March 2: Judy Katri

John 4:27. They were astonished that [Jesus] was speaking with a woman.

Sometime ago when I worshipped at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, I noted the mission statement printed in the service program: “We believe in one God, known to us in Jesus Christ, also known by different names in different traditions. We seek to challenge and transform the world beginning with ourselves and to celebrate the image of God in every person…”

In the fourth chapter of John’s Gospel Jesus is traveling from Southern Israel to Northern Israel through Samaria where He encounters a Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well. Considering the cultural context of the time, it is shocking that Jesus reaches out to a woman; particularly a marginalized woman from a different culture and background. The Samaritans were despised by the Jews for many historical and religious reasons. They did know Yahweh as the God who gave Moses the law, and yet they also worshipped idols. Both the Jews and the Samaritans were hoping expectantly for the coming of their Messiah.

In their earlier conversation, Jesus says to the Samaritan woman, “If you only knew what a wonderful gift God has for you, and who I am you would ask for living water.” (4:10) The woman asks where this water comes from and if Jesus is greater than their ancestor Jacob. Here Jesus begins to reveal His person and purpose. The two unlikely strangers also discover a commonality in their shared patriarch, Jacob.

In rushing back to town to tell her neighbors about her encounter the woman symbolically leaves her water jar at the well. She proclaims, “Come and see the man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Christ?” (4:29) Now the Samaritans see something different about this unnamed woman. The people of the village went streaming to the well to meet Jesus. “Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in Him because of the woman’s testimony.” (4:40)

We, too, like the woman at the well and the people of Grace Cathedral. can be messengers of God’s grace, regardless of our diverse backgrounds or circumstances. In seeking the image of God in every person, even we can make a difference in the world- beginning with ourselves. 

  

—Judy Katri

Sunday, March 1: Jim & Rachel Clifton

Mark 8:34. [Jesus] called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

Jesus says that following him will involve denying ourselves and taking up our “cross” and following him. So what does that mean to us followers in the 21st century who live our lives in relative ease and comfort? To those in Jesus day, there is no doubt, as they passed by crosses lining the avenues and crossroads in the Roman Empire, that the cross was all about suffering, humiliation and an agonizing death. They probably weren’t falling over each other to sign up for “taking up their cross.” But as we know, they did exactly that, and here we are today as Christ followers with a history and a legacy of their faith. Will we be called to suffer as those early disciples? Probably not in the same way, but we can begin by responding to God where he is personally and individually speaking to us.

All of us are in the process of learning what it means to deny ourselves in what we might sometimes consider to be our rights—anger, resentment, self-indulgence, pride. We desire to move toward others in forgiveness, compassion, empathy, time and resources—all a journey of self-denial of sorts. Let us begin to pray that God will help us to do what he did for us in Christ when he entered into the sufferings of this world. In our families, in our neighborhood, and beyond our safe community and relationships, we can come alongside others and help them to carry their burdens. Jesus knew that denying ourselves to live in the larger context of his kingdom would change us from the inside out and would begin to conform us to his own image. In Philippians we read: “Your attitude should be the same that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not demand and cling to his rights as God, but made himself nothing—he took the humble position of a servant and appeared in human form.”

Let’s make that our joyful prayer together in this Lenten season – that in learning to deny ourselves, we can open ourselves up to live into the very life of God in us.                                   

  —Jim & Rachel Clifton