Hearing Different Voices

Polished sword and shining armor

mean nothing to the people of France

They are losing.

There is no hope.

Death is everywhere.

Many had to die for Joan of Arc.

She caused death.

She extinguished hope

in the faces of her enemies.

She lost her fear

and passed it to her opponents.

Why was Joan of Arc slain?

She was the hope,

She was the death,

She was lost in the flames of war.

A hardened heart does not see the beauty

in the pain of her passing.

Harden your hearts,

Joan wants no beauty in her,

but in the people for whom she fought.*



Joan of Arc is probably one of the best-known non-Biblical saints, those who have been canonized by the Roman Catholic Church (and accepted as such by Anglicans and others), but who are not mentioned in the Bible, like Sts Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Paul. Even the small town where I grew up had a Roman Catholic Church named after her. Come to think of it; I never heard of her until I met a few people who attended there. That must have been during my elementary school years. I still didn’t know her whole story, though.


James Kiefer has written a brief biography of her that covers her life thoroughly. It describes her many roles in history: a virgin, devout Christian, a visionary, one who inspired thousands to go to battle. The English captured her as an enemy, sent her to trial, and condemned her as a witch and a heretic. The spot is marked upon which she met her death by being burned alive in Rouen at the Place du Vieux Marché.


One thing that inspired, alienated, and then restored her in the eyes of the people was that she claimed guidance from God by way of Sts Michael the Archangel, Margaret of Antioch, and Catherine of Alexandria, who spoke to her, bearing God’s messages for her to follow. It was probably difficult for some to believe as real as many of those who proclaimed or exhibited visions, auditory signals, and strange behavior were considered possessed by Satan or mad. Often isolated, these souls could be relegated to dungeons or remote locations. Even then, some were secretly visited by townsfolk who sought potions, herbs, or prophetic words.


Aguayo’s poem portrays Joan as one who spoke to both sides, the English and the French. Her words and actions were meant to encourage the French. Moreover, she wanted to increase the faith of those who followed her as a symbol. She dressed as a man in armor and hid her feminine gender to be more convincing. After all, who would listen to a young maid who claimed to speak with saints and archangels? A man was much more believable in such matters. Today we would just call them madmen or insane and ignore them or shun them lest such a disease or disorder infect us. It’s incredible to me how many people still believe mental illness is contagious, like measles or COVID-19.


The thing that speaks to me about Aguayo’s poem is that it speaks from a perspective of a deeply empathetic person, one how sees life differently through the lenses of his own mental illness and who has a sincere faith. I especially love the last two lines, “Joan wants no beauty in her,/but in the people for whom for whom she fought.” For Joan, it was not about fame or glory, but for her country and countryfolk. Her voices told her what needed to be done and trusted her to pass on the message. She believed them in turn as genuine messengers from God, and, as such, she obeyed them.


So many, in the depth of their mental illness, cannot believe in God, much less have the empathy for others that Aguayo does. While he has bad times, his faith appears to help him and inspires his writing, which he shares with us. Perhaps he is a voice of vision and hope for us and also a reminder that the mentally ill are not defective people, although various medications and therapies can help them if not cure them. They are people, just like us, who fight depressions and rage and withdrawal, just perhaps to a greater extent probably. They are beloved children of God, as all of us are, and as precious in God’s sight. He, like Joan, have messages to share with us, messages to which we need to listen, heed, and act on.


Joan didn’t win the battles alone, but she surely endured her death alone. Even if I am in the midst of a crowd, at the moment of my death, I will be alone except for God. I will never be a symbol for a group or a nation, undoubtedly never be a saint, or anything other than just a human being. Perhaps what God wants me to learn from Aguayo, Joan, and the poem, is to look at everyone as
a child of God, equal and loved, no matter what their exceptionalities or deficiencies may be.  


God bless.


*Aguayo, Roy Samuel. 2017. Havoc & Heaven A Collection of Poems (42). Used by permission of the author.



Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, May 30, 2020.

Making Changes

Psalm 47



It's always fun when a reading for the day turns out to be a favorite. Why? I tend to like anything I can sing, and versions of Psalm 47 are among those pieces. It is so much easier for me to remember things like scripture when it is set to music rather than simply memorizing words. 

One of the psalms for today is number 47, beginning with "O clap your hands." There have probably been lots of arrangements by various composers, but my favorite is the one written by Orlando Gibbons in 1622. My first exposure to it was in the recording done by The Harvard University Choir. It was beautiful to listen to as well as sing. Oddly enough, Ralph Vaughn Williams also wrote a version of the same text in 1922.

If I listen to either of these versions with a Bible open, I will see instantly that the Biblical text doesn't match those in the musical librettos word-for-word. Some lyrics are changed, some phrases omitted, and many are repeated multiple times. I began thinking about how musical composition is done, and how sometimes things must be cut, rearranged, or changed so that the lyrics and the music convey the message in a tuneful, memorable, well-constructed way.

That led me to ponder how things, even sacred things like scripture, may need to be changed to fit a situation, ceremony, event, or artist's concept. Painters and sculptors have taken Bible stories and, through their culture, imagination, and wishes of the patron commissioning the work, have dressed characters in period costume rather than in clothing of the Biblical time.  Poets and writers described people and actions to convey how they perceived the characters and situations to have been at the time, although often throwing in emotions, activities, and thoughts of the current time. It was a change done for artistic purposes, and hopefully, to illustrate how the scene or time would have looked if Biblical characters were present at the current time. Versions of "O clap your hands" represent the musical forms of their times, three hundred years apart. Gibbons used an excerpted form of the psalm as a framework for the melody and harmony to build around—or maybe he did it the other way around. Vaughn Williams did the same thing, using the same words in crafting his composition. Each represented change, an economy of words that removed what was considered to be extraneous material and highlighting the essential parts. They were emphasizing certain words, sounds, and phrases without clutter.

Every day we face having to change things to eliminate the unnecessary and adapt to new ideas and situations. Even when we encounter something that has happened before, like a natural disaster or even a pandemic, we approach it and react in different ways. We may make use of coping mechanisms that we had used in the past, or we may choose to handle it in a totally different way, hoping for better results. Sometimes old and cherished actions must be discarded, even if temporarily, for the good of the many rather than just the comfort of the few. It is this kind of change that makes our current situation so upsetting. Even though many things have changed over the centuries or even weeks, we still resist change, no matter how necessary it is. We can't just cut out parts and fit the rest of it together to make a pleasant whole like Gibbons could with his composition.

Changes are a part of life. That's it, plain and simple. There are examples of many changes in the Bible: Adam and Eve went from having an intimate relationship with God to outcasts; Abraham changed from idolater to monotheist; David started off as a fair-haired boy, becomes a king, and turned into a murderer, adulterer, and unworthy to build God's temple. Mary had to risk being labeled as a loose woman to obey God and give birth to God's son. The disciples had to completely change their thinking to follow an itinerant preacher and teacher and then go out and teach others what they had been taught. Rearrangements of things have to happen so that life could continue, even if they are different than before.

Maybe having to wear masks or distance ourselves from others, even to the point of having to seek "church" on an electronic device, means we have to make changes to emphasize what is needed to keep healthy, save lives, and reduce risks. It may not always be familiar or even pleasant. Still, it is loving our neighbors as ourselves, or perhaps even more so.

Just for today, I think I'll keep "O clap your hands" in my mind, remembering to be joyful and sing praises, even if it is just for myself and God. Luckily, I can always go to my iPod or YouTube to provide the other voices I lack. The rest, especially the intent, is up to me.

God bless.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, May 23, 2020.

Gates, False Prophets, and Trees

Matthew 7:13-21



Today’s gospel for the Daily Office is a very familiar one, featuring gates, a warning, and a lesson on trees. Like so many lessons of Jesus in the gospels, they seem to connect themselves into a group with the same focus, although with different metaphors. While we, as human beings, often use illustrations using an image that represents something else, we don’t always know what to call it. In our Education for Ministry (EfM) groups, metaphors are essential, both in the study of scripture and in learning to reflect theologically on an image, story, reading, quotation, movie, experience, or any of the many ways a reflection can be presented.

We are familiar with the images of the broad and narrow gates and how Jesus presents them. The wide gate, seeming to be the more comfortable, more pleasant way, is frequently the one which should not be taken just because it is more convenient and more enjoyable.  To be a follower of Jesus, we should look for the narrow gate, the harder route. Jesus keeps reminding us that following him was, is, and always will be hard. The world generally takes the easy way, but Christians who practice their faith as Jesus showed them, will look to the promise of heaven in the future, not the simple, easy way here on earth.


That ties into the warning against false prophets. Like snake-oil salesmen, they promise us instant gratification, wealth, health, and comfortable living. The term comes from the period of the California gold rush, where purveyors of fake medications and tonics tried to peddle their wares in exchange for gold nuggets. It was exchanging something worthless for something valuable. Of course, enough people believed the salesmen and took the tonics (which often did no good at all or were eventually toxic enough to kill the person who ingested them). We still have snake oil salesmen, only ours try to sell us on bogus stock portfolios, dubious (if not unproductive) cures, and prognostications of coming events based on nothing but misinterpretation, desire for fame, or hope of profit. We seem to have a lot of those these days.



We then get to the botanical portion of the lesson, the good and bad trees, and where not to look for grapes and figs. These would have been very familiar images to the first hearers of Jesus’s lesson, and they would have seen the impossibility of grapes coming from thorns or figs coming from thistles immediately.  They would have known that sometimes a tree doesn’t get enough nourishment from the soil or enough water to be absorbed by its roots and that it will not bear quality fruit. Rather than waste scarce resources trying to fix the tree, it is easier and more profitable to cut it down and plant a replacement in a better environment.  The same goes for people who may have adequate growing conditions, but that might produce poor results from their existence due to their choices in life. Jesus equates good trees bearing good fruit with those who follow the laws of God, practice righteous living, and take Jesus’s lessons to heart, not just to be able to recite them but to use them in daily life.


On Facebook this week, someone (or some organization) had posted a chart of celebrities who had contributed significantly to help those impacted and afflicted by the COVID-19 virus. At the bottom, there were half a dozen or so well-known evangelists who had contributed nothing at all to help the victims. It may only be me, but I feel that these are people who say “Lord, Lord” but who may never see the kingdom of God because they have not done the will of God when it comes to helping the unfortunate. There will be people who call me judgmental or even unchristian for appreciating the contributions of those many consider “ungodly” musicians, movie stars, and the like while condemning the ministers who claim their call and mission is from God. There are many Christians who do contribute through various ministries but whose names we will never know, just as there are first-responders, medical personnel, garbage collectors, store clerks, and many, many others who work behind the scenes to make this time of the pandemic safer and more accessible, people who will be forever known only by their roles as carers. I have a feeling God will welcome them at the pearly gates personally because whether or not they were Christians or even an active member of another faith, God will recognize them as caring for God’s children, rich or poor, religious, or of no faith at all.


It always amazes me that Jesus could get so much across in so few words. It would seem to make them a lot easier to understand and follow; however, we so often seem to miss the mark (a very accurate translation of the Hebrew for “sin”). Sometimes we look to try to make understanding what appears to be a simple image into something complicated.


Still, if taking the narrow gate means wearing a mask, practicing safe distancing, or even remaining at home not just to save our own lives, but those of others who share the world with us, I’ll wear my mask and all that other stuff until next year or the year after.  It’s one thing to trust that God will take care of me, but quite another to do what I want and think that God will put a bubble over me to protect me from my own foolishness or thoughts of my own invincibility. Like the bad trees, I can’t produce good fruit without a bit of work, some water, and soil enrichment.


This week, I’m going to try to be a good tree and not take the lazy or selfish way of being or doing things. I have my cat mask, and I will wear it proudly, not to protect me, but to protect others more fragile than me. It’s a tiny thing to offer up to God, but it’s so important right now.



God bless.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul at Episcopal Café, Saturday, May 16, 2020.

Lex Talonis and the Virus

Matthew 5:38-48



Since the dawn of time, people have been getting into fights, from minor disagreements to all-out wars. At first, it was fists, then sticks and rocks. From there, the history of warfare has progressed to spears, bows and arrows, catapults, up through the invention and harnessing of explosives. The whole idea was to wreak havoc upon an enemy to the same or higher degree than he had inflicted on us, our clan, or our nation.  This idea of aggression and retaliation is known as Lex Talonis, an eye-for-an-eye form of justice.  Probably the earliest known written of this is found in the Code of Hammurabi, c. 1750 BCE.


We still see this kind of action/reaction today. One nation (or individual) dislikes something another country (individual) does that appears to damage the first nation. In retaliation, the damaged tribe or individual seeks to strike back, causing equal or more damage than was inflicted on it.  Often, this led to increasing attacks until sometimes it seemed that the whole world was at war, and the damage was almost incalculable in terms of loss of property and life.


Jesus came along and proclaimed the Lex Talonis was no longer a valid solution. Instead, if someone were injured by another, the wounded or dishonored should not retaliate. If someone demanded a coat, not only the coat but a cloak should be given to the one demanding it. Instead of retaliation, the norm should be outright generosity. That, Jesus said, was the way it should be so that those who obeyed would reflect the generosity of God.


We continuously hear of the generosity of God, in sermons, scripture, and studies. God loves us, forgives us, watches over us, protects us, helps us, and an entire litany of other attributes of God that describe what God does for us. When things are going well, it’s easy for us to remember these things, but let times get hard, situations become tempestuous, or threats seem overwhelming, it is often a lot harder not to say, “Why is God doing this to us? Where is God? Why are we suffering?  If God loves us, why doesn’t God fix things?”

Matthew quotes Jesus as saying, “…(F)or he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous (v.45b).” We so often think in terms of rich and poor in these situations. Rain falls on both groups, but often the rich live in elevated areas while the poor are relegated to low-lying, flat plains. When floods come, the wealthy are usually not wiped out as the poor can often be. In illness, the rich can afford more and better healthcare while the poor struggle with the simple necessities of life, like food and shelter. The poor ask for help, but the rich are often more concerned with amassing their own wealth. The wealthy attribute their success in life as the result of hard work, being smarter in their dealings with others, and, sometimes, being favored by God.


We have seen this in the past few months as we deal with the pandemic that has circled the globe. Many have lost their jobs due to businesses closing. Their low wages have limited their savings to the point where it is becoming an anxiety-ridden time, wondering if or when they are struck with the virus, if they will bankrupt the family, and they will be hungry and homeless. Protective masks are almost impossible to obtain, and not everyone can sew their own. Families are stuck in houses that once felt cozy and warm but now which feel more like prison cells, simply because they cannot leave or even find a space where they can take a time-out, a bit of peace, or a chance to self-nurture a bit.


So, where is God? God is all around, in nature, in people, in communities and individuals, in rich and poor. Perhaps in these days, we are tasked with stepping up and reaching past our comfort zones, helping those we might not otherwise notice. We are asked to make the first step to help others without looking at how they can repay us for our kindness or sharing. The rich, who have more, should be encouraged to give more since they can do so, while even the poor can practice love toward those who might seem to be the most unloveable souls on earth.


God is asking us to go beyond the eye-for-an-eye stage and do a sort of “pay it forward” work. Spread some joy in any way possible. Call to check on an elder, ask a neighbor if you can pick up something for them at a store if you’re going there. If you have food or items delivered, give a larger-than-normal tip for the delivery person. Find a way to continue your pledge and, if at all possible, up the amount a bit to help support the ministries of the church, which continue despite virus, isolation, or hard times. Pray for wise government, for first responders, service workers, medical professionals, ministers, the ill, the at-risk, the families of those who have died of this virus, and for ourselves and our families. Look for the good, as God looks for the good in us.


Be a reflector for God in the world, continue to hope, work for mutual respect among people, and try to stay safe, for yourselves and those around you. Practice love, even toward those who are unloveable. Remember that God loves us regardless, so God wants us to try to emulate that love.

It isn’t easy, but whoever said that being one of God’s children was going to be easy?  As someone very wise once said, “An eye for an eye will leave everyone blind.”


God bless you on the journey.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, on Saturday May 9, 2020.

Lessons from a Fortune Cookie

Hear with your ears but listen with your heart. – Found on a fortune cookie



Matthew 4:18-25



Sometimes wisdom can come from the strangest places. I don’t usually read my horoscope, much less believe what it tells me any more than I think the “You will come into much money” or “You will meet the person of your dreams” that often seem to come in fortune cookies will come true. Still, I always open the cookie, mainly because I love to eat them, and often find amusement in what they tell me. This one told me also that my lucky numbers were 18, 19, 20, 41, 45, and 58. Still, I don’t trust lottery tickets any more than I usually do fortune cookies or horoscopes.


Still, this little piece of paper (which also wanted to teach me the characters and pronunciation for “watermelon” in some dialect of Chinese), made me stop and think. I’m sure I’ve heard this same sentiment several times said in several different ways, but this little paper came at a time when I think I needed to listen to it. Not just hear it, but take it under advisement.

In my daily life, I don’t always have the opportunity to do more than listen to the dialog on TV programs that I use for background noise most of the time. Once in a while, there is a documentary on a topic in which I am interested or a news story I find online that catches my attention. The other day, there was a story about shortages of not only masks, medical supplies, and personal protective attire, but water and food as well on the Navajo reservation and probably other reservations as well. It made me think about how I complained about the lack of disinfectants and cleansers in the stores as well as standard things like toilet paper and paper towels.  I was without air conditioning for a couple of days, and I had to work to accept that things break down occasionally, usually at the worst possible time. But what if that breakdown meant life and death? I found myself feeling somewhat ashamed of feeling even slightly deprived when others were so much more in need than I was.  My heart heard what my ears (and eyes) were taking in.

Jesus must have felt that most of the time, his disciples weren’t really hearing what he was trying to teach them.  It happened over and over as we read through the gospels, but now and again, something clicked with them, and they “got it.” In the gospel reading for today, Peter and Andrew and then James and John not only heard Jesus’ invitation to follow him with their ears but with their hearts as well. After all, Jesus was telling them to leave their families and their homes to become itinerants and students, and they didn’t need a piece of paper from a fortune cookie to tell them to follow Jesus.

I admit there are a lot of times I tune people out simply because I am overwhelmed by them. Many seem to me to be entitled people whose lifestyle changed because of circumstances beyond their control and who don’t mind complaining to all who listen that they didn’t deserve this; it is infringing on their personal rights. I shudder at the pictures of maskless people, often carrying side arms or rifles of various kinds, angrily facing those who stand, mask in place, looking stoic but as determined as the protesters. How many deaths might they cause to innocent people who have rights too? 

We have the right to follow Jesus if we listen not only with our ears but also in our hearts. We demonstrate love when we put the lives of others ahead of our personal wishes and practices. We have lots of rights, most of which end at the ends of our noses. The same goes for those who oppose what we think, believe, and/or practice. Still, if we as Christians have to err, it’s on the side of love, and love means sometimes inconveniencing ourselves for the greater good. I wear a mask, not just to protect me, but to hopefully protect someone else. Many folks are making masks for loved ones, but also clinics, nursing homes, hospitals, and other first responders. That’s their hearts responding to what their ears heard, whether or not they are Christian. They are following an almost universal religious message to “Love one another.” 

This week I’m conscientiously trying to listen to what is essential, not only with my ears but also my heart. I’m trying to hear messages of hope and trust, not condemnations, self-congratulations, or words of divisiveness. I’m trying to let my heart speak rather than just my brain and to encourage others to do the same. If I follow Jesus, I have to accept the whole message, not only the parts I like. It’s not just about me, but about everyone around me. The disciples had to learn to do that, and so must I. 

I think I’ll tack that little piece of paper on the corkboard next to my desk. It has a message I think I will probably need to read often in the days to come. Maybe I’ll put it over a picture of an icon of Mary that hangs in a church I attended. Mary listened with her ears and heart, and look what came of it. 

God bless.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, May 2, 2020.