Luke 20:41-21:4
The Widow's Mite. It's odd--the language appears to contradict the Stewardship messages we received over the past month in which we've been asked to give with a Spirit of Abundance rather than one of Scarcity. But I think the message is there.
The Widow gives all she has, thus giving the greater gift from the Rich Man. I wonder how many of our churches see it this way? We are asked to give--joyfully, in the spirit that God will provide for us, but then we're still faced with the bottom line: You're not giving enough--we'll have to make cuts. How do we reconcile the bottom line with the Spirit of Abundance--the knowledge that God has given us everything we need to carry out His mission in this time and place?
As a working mother, I frequently feel as though I'm running on empty--that there just isn't enough of me for work, husband, baby--forget self. But we always eat, and there's always a bedtime story and special snuggles for C. Most nights I even get to talk to my husband. And occasionally, I get to read a book in the bathtub or knit while I watch a movie. I don't have enough to be SuperMom--to make sure my toddler is taking yoga and French and Karate Lessons while learning ballet and cooking and mastering the art of the sonnet. I had to stop and recognize what resources I had and how I could make best use of them, knowing that certain needs had to be met no matter what.
And there's enough. There isn't much extra, and sometimes I wish there was more, but we have enough.
I think the same holds true for many of our churches. We have enough, but we have to be brutally honest about the resources we have to offer and the needs that have to be met. Of course we can have dreams of what we want to do and where we want to go and of course that vision is vital to continuing mission. But we need that vision to help us move forward and not cripple us like my visions of SuperMom. We do have enough if we give our all--like the widow. If we only give out of comfort, we cripple ourselves with the knowledge that we aren't truly willing to commit.
Friday, December 3, 2010
God, Power, and Might
Psalm 18:1-20
I should have posted this yesterday, but I fell asleep while putting the baby to bed. Oops.
This Psalm sums up my childhood faith: God, I believe in you, and you will fly in like Superman to rescue me when I call. As an adult, I can tell you there have been times I've called for God and heard nary a whisper, forget about smoke, fire, and riding on cherubs. And I won't lie--that abandoned feeling led me to stop calling on God for many years.
At different times in my life, I have wanted the God of Victory described by the Psalmist. I've wanted someone who will swoop in, conquer my enemies, and put fear into the hearts of those who persecute me. Some days I still want that. But I've yet to see that God.
Eventually, after getting over my disappointment at the distinct lack of Cherubs in my life, I came to realize that perhaps the quiet God, the God of Jesus, was just as mighty and powerful--perhaps even more so--even with the distinct lack of smoke, fire, and Cherub transportation. That perhaps it isn't a question of vanquishing my enemies by force, but approaching them in a spirit of love and understanding. These things are much less dramatic, but perhaps even more powerful than the mighty God described by the Psalmist.
I should have posted this yesterday, but I fell asleep while putting the baby to bed. Oops.
This Psalm sums up my childhood faith: God, I believe in you, and you will fly in like Superman to rescue me when I call. As an adult, I can tell you there have been times I've called for God and heard nary a whisper, forget about smoke, fire, and riding on cherubs. And I won't lie--that abandoned feeling led me to stop calling on God for many years.
At different times in my life, I have wanted the God of Victory described by the Psalmist. I've wanted someone who will swoop in, conquer my enemies, and put fear into the hearts of those who persecute me. Some days I still want that. But I've yet to see that God.
Eventually, after getting over my disappointment at the distinct lack of Cherubs in my life, I came to realize that perhaps the quiet God, the God of Jesus, was just as mighty and powerful--perhaps even more so--even with the distinct lack of smoke, fire, and Cherub transportation. That perhaps it isn't a question of vanquishing my enemies by force, but approaching them in a spirit of love and understanding. These things are much less dramatic, but perhaps even more powerful than the mighty God described by the Psalmist.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
God, Lawfulness, and Ownership
Luke 20:19-26
If we are to Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's (money) and to God the things that are God's, why does the Church keep asking me for money?
Pardon me--I just posed this question to my husband, which has resulted in much commentary about Church as a business and hypocrisy in religion. A bit of a deviation from the subject perhaps, but interesting nonetheless.
What things are the emperor's? The Church's? God's? Are they distinct, or are some of these possessions shared?
If we are to Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor's (money) and to God the things that are God's, why does the Church keep asking me for money?
Pardon me--I just posed this question to my husband, which has resulted in much commentary about Church as a business and hypocrisy in religion. A bit of a deviation from the subject perhaps, but interesting nonetheless.
What things are the emperor's? The Church's? God's? Are they distinct, or are some of these possessions shared?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
St. Andrew
John 1:35-42
The daily office readings for today were pretty grim. But it's also the feast of Saint Andrew, so I'm going to cheat and use those readings instead.
This is the reading where Jesus steals John's disciples...or where he meets Andrew and his brother Simon-Cephas-Peter.
The part I find the most intriguing is when Jesus asks "What are you looking for?" and is answered with "Where are you staying?"
I wonder if Andrew knew what he was looking for that day. His answer indicates that, whatever he was looking for, he knew he had found it. I wonder if any of us are so lucky, or if we're like the U2 song and still haven't found what we're looking for.
The feast of Saint Andrew, the first apostle, is the first of the new liturgical year. And the question of "What are you looking for?" is well-placed amidst our secular preparations for Christmas. Are we looking for more stuff? The biggest and best present of the year? Or are we looking for more? Andrew and Simon-Cephas-Peter find the Messiah, the Anointed. Perhaps we can as well, if we take the time to stop and think about what it is we are truly looking for.
The daily office readings for today were pretty grim. But it's also the feast of Saint Andrew, so I'm going to cheat and use those readings instead.
This is the reading where Jesus steals John's disciples...or where he meets Andrew and his brother Simon-Cephas-Peter.
The part I find the most intriguing is when Jesus asks "What are you looking for?" and is answered with "Where are you staying?"
I wonder if Andrew knew what he was looking for that day. His answer indicates that, whatever he was looking for, he knew he had found it. I wonder if any of us are so lucky, or if we're like the U2 song and still haven't found what we're looking for.
The feast of Saint Andrew, the first apostle, is the first of the new liturgical year. And the question of "What are you looking for?" is well-placed amidst our secular preparations for Christmas. Are we looking for more stuff? The biggest and best present of the year? Or are we looking for more? Andrew and Simon-Cephas-Peter find the Messiah, the Anointed. Perhaps we can as well, if we take the time to stop and think about what it is we are truly looking for.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Worship
Isaiah 1:10-20
I'm not going to lie to you. I like the trappings of church. I love the lectionary. I love the liturgy. In my humble opinion, a sung mass is the pinnacle of worship experience. I love priests in fine vestments and candles and incense and small children carrying crosses or torches and organ music. There you have it. And this reading? It is for me. It is the prophet saying, in the words of the Lord, UR DOING IT RONG.
And, yes, I know that the music and the vestments and the celebrations--that's not the point. Being with God, doing the Work of God is so much more than that. It is when we
cease to do evil,
learn to do good;
seek justice,
rescue the oppressed,
defend the orphan,
plead for the widow.
that we are truly at worship.
But, as was as is as ever shall be...it is so easy for us to get caught up in the trappings of worship, forgetting that worship should be present in all the work we do for God. It's easy to get caught up in the rules and in the drama that coalesce in the Sunday morning services that for many of us mark our lives as Church.
Fortunately, the good news is here, too.
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be like snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.
19 If you are willing and obedient,
you shall eat the good of the land;
And so, I shall try. I shall try and move beyond my love for Sunday morning worship. I shall try my best to do good, seek justice, and defend the oppressed. My first task? To pick up a gift for Preschool Female with C for the Giving Tree at Church. It's small, yes, but a step outside of myself. I've done giving tree gifts for the past several years, and am excited to begin teaching C about why we give gifts at Christmas-time to people we do not know and will never meet.
How do you worship in daily life? Do you have Holiday traditions that help you refocus your priorities?
I'm not going to lie to you. I like the trappings of church. I love the lectionary. I love the liturgy. In my humble opinion, a sung mass is the pinnacle of worship experience. I love priests in fine vestments and candles and incense and small children carrying crosses or torches and organ music. There you have it. And this reading? It is for me. It is the prophet saying, in the words of the Lord, UR DOING IT RONG.
And, yes, I know that the music and the vestments and the celebrations--that's not the point. Being with God, doing the Work of God is so much more than that. It is when we
cease to do evil,
learn to do good;
seek justice,
rescue the oppressed,
defend the orphan,
plead for the widow.
that we are truly at worship.
But, as was as is as ever shall be...it is so easy for us to get caught up in the trappings of worship, forgetting that worship should be present in all the work we do for God. It's easy to get caught up in the rules and in the drama that coalesce in the Sunday morning services that for many of us mark our lives as Church.
Fortunately, the good news is here, too.
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be like snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.
19 If you are willing and obedient,
you shall eat the good of the land;
And so, I shall try. I shall try and move beyond my love for Sunday morning worship. I shall try my best to do good, seek justice, and defend the oppressed. My first task? To pick up a gift for Preschool Female with C for the Giving Tree at Church. It's small, yes, but a step outside of myself. I've done giving tree gifts for the past several years, and am excited to begin teaching C about why we give gifts at Christmas-time to people we do not know and will never meet.
How do you worship in daily life? Do you have Holiday traditions that help you refocus your priorities?
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Are you ready?
I'm looking at daily readings--you may have heard a different story in church this morning, and that's OK, too. Plenty of stories to go 'round. Here's the list of readings for the first week of Advent, Year 1.
Matthew 25:1-13
Stay awake for you know neither the day nor the hour.
Late pregnancy felt like this. Like, no matter how hard you prepared, you couldn't tell if you were one of the wise or one of the foolish bridesmaids. The night before C was born, when my labor began, I certainly felt like one of the foolish bridesmaids who had gone out all night without lamp oil. It shouldn't have been a surprise--I had gone past my due date. At the appointment I had that morning, the doctor had strongly suggested an induction for the following day. I had been complaining for weeks that it was just time for that baby to come out, already. But that night, when my waters broke, all I could think was "Are we ready for this?" The bag is packed, we're ready to go, but did anyone remember to pack the lamp oil?
When three days later we brought our brand new baby home from the hospital, it became pretty clear that though we thought we were among the wise bridesmaids (After all, we read the books! We took the classes!), we were definitely short of lamp oil among other things. As prepared as we thought we were, the fact was that there was just no way we could prepare for all of the changes this new little life wrought. And, as she approaches the ripe old age of two, we're still pretty unprepared for some of the things she throws at us--which is always astounding because both my husband and I are perpetual overplanners.
I think of Jesus' parents with their new baby and wonder if they felt as woefully unprepared as I do. And I wonder if he amazed them as much as my daughter amazes me and I think that perhaps this unprepared-ness is just part of the game--part of the parental experience.
I also think of how many of us behave as church--as though we are obviously up there with the wise bridesmaids, flask of oil tucked securely in a pocket. And I wonder if we are as prepared as we think we are, or if we're more like an expectant, first-time mother. We think we're prepared, but really, we have no clue. Because any day, any hour, we could be called to task and find our flask empty or leaking in that safe pocket.
Does this mean that, since we're none of us prepared, we're all destined to be locked out in the cold, unrecognized by the Bridegroom? I don't think so. I think it's a reminder that we aren't as ready as we think we are. And what can we do to be ready? Is it enough to take a class? Read a book? Donate to the food pantry? Will that make us ready? Or is preparedness something...greater...deeper...constant. The one thing having a nearly-two-year-old has taught me is that I might not be prepared for everything she throws at me, but I have to be vigilant. Because I never know when she's going to try and turn on the stove or eat a pen or wrestle the cat. Just like I never know when the Bridegroom will come. So I need to try and be attentive. To remember my brothers and sisters in the greater community. To place the needs of others above myself. And in this way, I can stay mindful, present, and try to be as ready as I can...knowing that perhaps we will never be truly ready and we will always be surprised.
Matthew 25:1-13
Stay awake for you know neither the day nor the hour.
Late pregnancy felt like this. Like, no matter how hard you prepared, you couldn't tell if you were one of the wise or one of the foolish bridesmaids. The night before C was born, when my labor began, I certainly felt like one of the foolish bridesmaids who had gone out all night without lamp oil. It shouldn't have been a surprise--I had gone past my due date. At the appointment I had that morning, the doctor had strongly suggested an induction for the following day. I had been complaining for weeks that it was just time for that baby to come out, already. But that night, when my waters broke, all I could think was "Are we ready for this?" The bag is packed, we're ready to go, but did anyone remember to pack the lamp oil?
When three days later we brought our brand new baby home from the hospital, it became pretty clear that though we thought we were among the wise bridesmaids (After all, we read the books! We took the classes!), we were definitely short of lamp oil among other things. As prepared as we thought we were, the fact was that there was just no way we could prepare for all of the changes this new little life wrought. And, as she approaches the ripe old age of two, we're still pretty unprepared for some of the things she throws at us--which is always astounding because both my husband and I are perpetual overplanners.
I think of Jesus' parents with their new baby and wonder if they felt as woefully unprepared as I do. And I wonder if he amazed them as much as my daughter amazes me and I think that perhaps this unprepared-ness is just part of the game--part of the parental experience.
I also think of how many of us behave as church--as though we are obviously up there with the wise bridesmaids, flask of oil tucked securely in a pocket. And I wonder if we are as prepared as we think we are, or if we're more like an expectant, first-time mother. We think we're prepared, but really, we have no clue. Because any day, any hour, we could be called to task and find our flask empty or leaking in that safe pocket.
Does this mean that, since we're none of us prepared, we're all destined to be locked out in the cold, unrecognized by the Bridegroom? I don't think so. I think it's a reminder that we aren't as ready as we think we are. And what can we do to be ready? Is it enough to take a class? Read a book? Donate to the food pantry? Will that make us ready? Or is preparedness something...greater...deeper...constant. The one thing having a nearly-two-year-old has taught me is that I might not be prepared for everything she throws at me, but I have to be vigilant. Because I never know when she's going to try and turn on the stove or eat a pen or wrestle the cat. Just like I never know when the Bridegroom will come. So I need to try and be attentive. To remember my brothers and sisters in the greater community. To place the needs of others above myself. And in this way, I can stay mindful, present, and try to be as ready as I can...knowing that perhaps we will never be truly ready and we will always be surprised.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
What is Borderline Divine?
You've got me. But it sounds catchy, doesn't it?
Borderline Divine is my attempt at two things: Daily, disciplined reading and daily, disciplined writing.
I have a job as a writer. I write every day. But I seldom have the chance to write for myself--even maintaining a personal blog--I'm just spent and have no inspiration and nothing that moves me enough to sit down and work. So I wondered...how can I give myself something to write about every day. Just to regain my sense of discipline if nothing more.
For the past several years, my church has published a book of meditations based on readings from the Lectionary during the season of Lent. I've participated and submitted a handful of personal meditations. Writing about what I've read and connecting the reading, somehow, to my daily life has really helped me find or make meaning in readings I otherwise may have skipped or may not have considered on anything other than a surface level. In connecting the readings to my daily life, I can see how they remain real and relevant, generations after they were initially composed.
I see the combination as something not quite mundane and not quite divine...Borderline Divine, if you will.
So, join me as I seek to explore the spiritual in the mundane. I'll provide links to the Daily Lectionary and to my selected reading in addition to my meditation. And, if you'd like more mundane and less spiritual, you can still find my thoughts on parenting, knitting, and life in general over at Saisquoi?
Borderline Divine is my attempt at two things: Daily, disciplined reading and daily, disciplined writing.
I have a job as a writer. I write every day. But I seldom have the chance to write for myself--even maintaining a personal blog--I'm just spent and have no inspiration and nothing that moves me enough to sit down and work. So I wondered...how can I give myself something to write about every day. Just to regain my sense of discipline if nothing more.
For the past several years, my church has published a book of meditations based on readings from the Lectionary during the season of Lent. I've participated and submitted a handful of personal meditations. Writing about what I've read and connecting the reading, somehow, to my daily life has really helped me find or make meaning in readings I otherwise may have skipped or may not have considered on anything other than a surface level. In connecting the readings to my daily life, I can see how they remain real and relevant, generations after they were initially composed.
I see the combination as something not quite mundane and not quite divine...Borderline Divine, if you will.
So, join me as I seek to explore the spiritual in the mundane. I'll provide links to the Daily Lectionary and to my selected reading in addition to my meditation. And, if you'd like more mundane and less spiritual, you can still find my thoughts on parenting, knitting, and life in general over at Saisquoi?
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