Sunday, April 26, 2020

Earth Day and Beginnings






Today if the feast of St. Mark, writer of the first gospel and a companion of Paul and Barnabas on several of their missionary journeys. As Mark 1:1 states, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Mark’s gospel contains the bones of what Matthew and Luke later fleshed out. It is like Genesis, in a sense; both are stories of beginning, which are still studied and revered.

Rather than focus on Mark, which has been done more justice than I could do it, I want to concentrate on the 50th anniversary of Earth Day this past week. The idea of caring for the earth and its resources is a concept far older than Earth Day and goes back to the earliest chapters of the Bible. Earth and all stars were created by God and given to us to care for and nurture so that it might provide for us abundantly.

These days it seems that the earth has suffered from a lack of care, which seems to get worse every year. It has been the nature of humankind to make working the land to improve production and to ease the burden of labor needed to make those improvements.  For centuries, the load on the earth and it’s surrounding skies and waters worked together with humankind. Then humans got greedy. They built bigger and bigger factories, put more and more of the land under cultivation, and began to use fertilizers and insecticides in greater profusion until the land could hold no more and the rains carried the poisons into the waters that many depended on for drinking, cooking, bathing, and watering the crops.


With the industrial age, factories belched more gasses into the air, sometimes making the atmosphere so thick with the gray-black smoke that surfaces of buildings in the cities grew dark in color, the sun was blotted out, clothes hung out to dry came in almost as dirty as they were before washing. People began to cough more frequently, became more unhealthy, and many died of respiratory distress, pneumonia, tuberculosis, and other diseases. Out in the countryside, there was a growing disparity between rich and poor, but at least people could still see green trees and grass. Rain and snow could make life more tedious and challenging, but the sun would eventually return with the blue skies.


Earth Day was established to encourage people to see what was happening to Earth’s health. Waters were dirty, polluted, and full of discards and contaminants. The air was getting thicker, and more and more respiratory problems cropped up. The chase to make more and more money while still accumulating more and more disposable goods grew more heated. It used up the stored resources of the ground, leaving dust to blow and the climate to change. There had been small changes, but for every step forward, people took two, three, or four steps backward in other areas. That’s what Earth Day was created to do—remind people that Earth needed help and that God wanted us to take care of those problems.  

Then came the global pandemic, COVID-19. There may be places on earth where it has not reached, but the number of countries, cities, and towns that it has hit has increased daily. Both numbers of those ill with the virus and the death list are still growing in most places. Those who practice the most rigorous practices like self-isolation, keeping a distance between others when out in public, wearing appropriate masks, and avoiding crowds seem to be helping. Still, many are beginning to feel their need to go on as usual (now referred to as the “old” normal) and the heck with anybody else’s health, rights, or even acknowledgment of their right to safety and well-being.


There is one side effect of the COVID-19 pandemic that some are beginning to notice. With fewer people driving and tossing pollutants in the air from auto exhaust, less need for public transportation with its accompanying noise and pollution, and the chance for people to stop and look around, it’s becoming more noticeable that the sky is bluer, the air is fresher, and things that are often hidden, like mountain ranges and more distant vistas than we have seen in quite some time, are now visible. In northern India, the Himalayas are now visible with their snow-cropped glory. That view hasn’t been seen in many years, and it is breathtaking.  The sun sparkling on the ripples in streams, creeks, rivers, and oceans is like seeing tiny jewels scattered on the surface. The trees seem to be greener, and the animals more relaxed, even to the point of appearing in places where they usually hide from the noise and bustle of traffic and passers-by.


The whole Earth, or most of it, anyway, seems happier and more at ease. But the difference in just a couple of months of individual isolation and cuts in industrial pollution appears to have made a big difference already. I’m trying just to enjoy what I can see, hear, smell, and feel now, without looking ahead to a fast return to what we had before the sequestering. I also wish it could continue even after we return to what is probably going to be a “new” normal.


God gave us the Earth and its surroundings to care for and work with. I will try to cut back on what little driving I do, run all my errands in one well-planned route, and not be so profligate with electricity, water, and household necessities. Maybe my little contribution in honor of Earth and Earth Day may not make much of a difference, but I think God will be pleased if I try my hardest to be careful in all I do, thinking of others and the environment as my neighbors, and listening for God to tell me what else I need to do.


God bless.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café  Saturday, April 25, 2020.

Thursday, April 23, 2020

Following the Pillars




When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was nearer; for God thought, ‘If the people face war, they may change their minds and return to Egypt.’ So God led the people by the roundabout way of the wilderness towards the Red Sea. The Israelites went up out of the land of Egypt prepared for battle. And Moses took with him the bones of Joseph, who had required a solemn oath of the Israelites, saying, ‘God will surely take notice of you, and then you must carry my bones with you from here.’ They set out from Succoth, and camped at Etham, on the edge of the wilderness. The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, so that they might travel by day and by night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people. --  Exodus 13:17-22



The book of Exodus is a continuation of the story of Israel that began in Genesis. At this point in the story, God has sent plagues to Egypt, ultimately ending with the deaths of all the firstborn of Egypt. Pharaoh finally agreed to let the people go from Egypt, which the Jews still celebrate with Passover. They were free to leave and followed Moses out into the desert. Moses took with him the bones of their ancestor, Joseph, so that they could bury him in the land he had left centuries before. Joseph had asked for this on his deathbed, and Moses remembered the promise. 


The part that caught my attention today was the mention of God not permitting them to wander around aimlessly. Lacking GPS instruments, maps, or even compasses, the only other natural way of geographical guidance would have been using the stars at night to determine direction.  God instead sent two phenomena to guide them in the direction God wanted them to travel. Sometimes this meant going backward, returning to somewhere they might already have been, but it was all for a purpose, and God made sure they didn’t stray.


Sometimes I think it would be good if we had a pillar of cloud by day and one of fire by night so that we could be sure of the direction God wants us to go. It would be easier than trying to figure it out by trial and error. Sure, the Bible guides us, and we have the opportunity for meditation and prayer, which can enable us to listen for God’s direction; however, individual interpretation and discernment can often take people in different directions even when using the same scriptures and requests.

There are lots of times when we need guidance and leadership beyond the power of GPS, maps, or compasses. In times of trial and often danger, geographical assistance isn’t the answer, but leadership is.  


Imagine a line of people, perhaps several miles long, transmitting instructions from Moses by passing it along from person to person like we used to do in the game we used to play as children. One person starts by whispering a message to the next person in line, who then turns to the person behind them and whispering what they had heard. By the time the last person gets the message, it usually bears little resemblance to the original. If transmitting a simple message among eight or ten people can change so much, imagine what passing along a verbal signal down a long line would produce. That’s what makes the visible pillars of cloud and fire a much better guidance system. It was apparent to all, and everybody would move in the proper direction.


Many of the world’s leaders have spoken messages of hope, support, and encouragement aimed toward the citizens of the nations they lead, but whose words have been transmitted around the globe, encouraging others in the far corners of the world. Those messages are not about blame, shame, or comparison; they were words of faith, resilience, and courage. They encourage that is thinking of others instead of just oneself or one’s family, contributing in whatever way possible to make life in difficult times easier for the elderly, families with unemployed breadwinners, and children. These words uplift us and make us aware that we are not alone. Although sometimes it may feel God is far away and not answering our pleas, we find assurance that, as Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, said, “We will meet again,” with our families, and fellow humans. Other world leaders have used different words, but with the same underlying sentiment. 


Perhaps these words are the pillars of cloud and fire that we need these days. Maybe these, as well as the words of the Bible, are moral and physical guideposts that keep us on the right path that will ultimately keep us safe, as well as remind us that this pandemic will not last forever. They tell us to do what is necessary for ourselves and our neighbors to get us through these tough times and bring us out on the other side to what perhaps will be a new normal, a new place in our lives. 


Keep the faith. Look for the signals to guide us through this turmoil. Trust God to get us through this, but remember to follow the rules that are for our benefit and that of our neighbors. Even God needs our help and our hands in times like these. 


God bless. Stay safe. Love your neighbor by helping them stay safe as well. The Bible says so.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, April 18, 2020. 

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Holy Saturday and the Joy to Come




This is the seventh, or maybe the eighth, year I’ve written about Holy Saturday. It’s gotten to be a fixture on my calendar, even though the dates change from year to year.

Usually, I write about the flurry of activity at the church on the morning of Holy Saturday, with preparations going on for the Easter Vigil, often held on Saturday night, and the succession of Easter services beginning very early Sunday morning. The members of the Altar Guild are busily arranging lilies and flowers, polishing the pews and altar rails, bringing out the Paschal Candle, and placing it in its tall stand, as well as putting out small candles with their paper collars to catch dripping wax for the Vigil. They set the altar with the brightest, whitest fair linens. The brass and silver items have been polished until they gleam. The altar that was bare on Friday evening is now covered with the vessels and candles that show the joy and celebration that will come on Sunday morning.

This year, though, is unlike any of the Holy Saturdays I’ve written about before. Granted, some churches will have their usual pre-Easter business in preparation for Easter services without congregations, and only a few clergy and/or laypeople there to transmit the services to those who join them via the Internet. It will be a very different kind of Easter celebration. Still, it will happen, regardless of the reason that the pews that the usually overflowing are empty.

Holy Saturday is always kind of a catch-your-breath kind of day, after the busyness of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Stations of the Cross,  and the Maundy Thursday vigil. Easter will be a hectic day, and generally, the Monday following Easter is very quiet with clergy and lay workers taking the day off to recoup their energies after a very strenuous week. The thing about Holy Saturday this year is that people are staying home, possibly with a short venture out to the store for last-minute supplies (if they can find them), and then back home to wash their hands profusely and wipe down the items they’ve bought. Unless they work from home, it will be a day very much like every day for the past couple of weeks. People will read, watch streaming TV or cable programming, possibly yard work, and do the usual chores that have to be done.  Homes with children will color Easter eggs for the Easter Bunny to hide, whether inside or in the yard. Ingredients for tomorrow’s meal will be assembled, as will the Easter baskets full of chocolate, marshmallow bunnies and chicks, golden coins, and dyed eggs.  It is still a busy day

One important thing to think about is tomorrow. It will be different not going to church in new clothes and shoes, sometimes with corsages and boutonnieres pinned or tucked on the front. There won’t be people going out to pack restaurants and filling up on ham, turkey, prime rib, crown rib, lamb, or anything else. Perhaps many will have ordered a meal for the whole family and will pick it up on Saturday to be warmed up on Sunday. There will be smaller groups than usual at the table, and many more tables in various homes will have perhaps only one or two sitting there, sharing a festive meal.

One thing that won’t change about tomorrow is that it is indeed Easter Sunday, the day we commemorate the day Jesus rose from the dead and returned to us in human form before ascending to heaven forty days later. Just because we may be in self-imposed (or even governmentally-imposed) quarantine, it doesn’t change the fact that Jesus is risen, after a period of despair and hopelessness, and has conquered death, just as we all will at some point in time. He promised this, and Jesus’s promises are things we can believe in wholeheartedly, even amid disease, exhaustion, and fear. Jesus has risen! We should be rejoicing!

We have tomorrow to look forward to, no matter what is going on outside in the world around us. Even if the church bells are silent, the churches are empty, and the day feels very much like every other day lately, we still remember it is Easter, and we should rejoice! If we can’t shout it from the housetops, we should always shout it in our hearts and minds, and be glad.

Forgive me if I am jumping the gun on Easter. Things have been gloomy, frustrating, fear- and anxiety-filled these past days, and I am not the only person on earth to feel this way. Perhaps this Easter may turn out to be the most joyous one ever, simply because it is something that brings us hope in the darkness, celebration amid despair, and a reason for rejoicing despite all the gloom and doom. Easter is something to be celebrated, no matter what the circumstances. Perhaps those in the early church believed this more than we are today, simply because their lives were much like ours now—with little to celebrate and much to dismay us.  Easter for them was a reminder that better things are coming, even if it takes a while. Easter gives us that opportunity to remember and to kindle a little spark of hope in our own hearts and lives, and also to share that joy with others, even if it is over a medium like the Internet.

To quote the Psalmist, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning (Ps. 30:5c-d). To quote Captain Jean-Luc Picard, “Make it so!”

Christus Anesti! Joyeux Pâques! Felices Pascuas!  Frohe Ostern! God Påske! Maligayang Pasko ng Pagkabuhay!

God bless us all.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, April 11, 2020.

Saturday, April 4, 2020

The Coming of Passover




Exodus 10:21-11:8


Israel had been in Egypt for something like 400 years and wanted to leave. Moses had applied to Pharaoh several times to let them go to the desert to worship God and make sacrifices, but the king wouldn’t allow it. God told Moses to throw down his staff and would make it turn into a serpent. Moses complied, but instead of being impressed, Pharaoh had his priests throw their staffs down, and they turned into snakes too! Even when Moses’ serpent ate all the other snakes, Pharaoh wasn’t impressed, so Moses left the court to confer with God once again.

Thus began the struggle between God and Pharaoh, with Moses as God’s representative. Each time Moses went to the king to ask him to let the Israelites go, Pharaoh would first agree, then change his mind. After each confrontation, God would tell Moses to go and raise his staff and something would happen to the Egyptians.  They went through numerous episodes, starting with the Nile turning to blood and then other plagues, each one worse than the previous. After each plague, Moses would go to Pharaoh and ask for him to let the Israelites go into the desert to worship God with sacrifices. Pharaoh would first say “yes, go,” but before Moses could get to the door, Pharaoh would change his mind yet again, and the Israelites had to stay.

Today’s reading tells of the last two meetings between Pharaoh and Moses. This time, when Pharaoh once again said no, God told Moses to hold up his hand toward heaven, and Egypt plunged into darkness, but the Israelites had light wherever they went. After three days, Pharaoh called Moses to court and said that the Israelites and their children could go, but the herds and flocks had to stay behind. Moses reiterated that the livestock was necessary because they had to make sacrifices to God in the desert, but Pharaoh would not change his mind. Not only did he tell Moses to get out of his sight, but that he would kill Moses if he ever saw him again. Each time Moses had gone to court, God had softened Pharaoh’s heart but then hardened it again. It was like building up to a grand finale, and this time the people would be released.

The reading takes us as far as God telling Moses that in the darkest part of the night, God would go among the Egyptians, killing every firstborn child and offspring of the livestock. God promised that this time, they would not only be allowed to leave but would be commanded to go out of Egypt.

We know what happens next. God did what God promised, and every household in Egypt produced wailing and anguish while the Israelites prepared their last meal in captivity. As God had told Moses, God’s people were allowed to leave with everything they owned, but not until after the meal was finished. To the Jews, this is the seminal celebration of their people, the first night of Passover, celebrated with the Seder of food, wine, and narrative of how they had become free. During this coming week, from sundown April 8th to sundown April 16th, Jews worldwide will celebrate Passover, their deliverance from Egypt and the beginning of their journey to the Holy Land promised to them by God.

As we wrestle with our particular kind of affliction this year, it seems almost as if it were for us a reminder of what freedom is. Like the Israelites, we watched as the COVID-19 virus began to take hold across various parts of the world while we sat comfortably and hoped for it to pass over us as the plagues passed over the Israelites in Egypt. Now it is among us, and no one is genuinely immune or safe from it. It strikes from the highest echelons to the lowest, striking elders and now even a newborn indiscriminately. Where is God in all this?

No, I don’t think God sent this COVID-19 to punish us for our evildoings, although it is showing us where evil, greed, and bragging has gotten us. We have shortages of medical protection, no vaccine, exhausted medical professionals, and first responders, and scarcity of even the most necessary household products, food, and cleansers. We hear that it will be over by Easter, then extended to May, and now even June doesn’t look very optimistic. One day we hear that only a few have been affected only to be informed a day or two later that it is worse but not nearly as bad as had been anticipated. We see the figures for the rising number of cases and the sad statistic of the number of dead and wonder where it will end. In the meantime, where is God, now that churches are closed, even for Holy Week and Easter?

Where is God? Right here and right now. Just as the Egyptians could do nothing to relieve their suffering during the plagues, so most of us are trapped in self-quarantine, afraid to go out, afraid to say hello to the neighbors, and angry that we cannot find necessities at the grocery, even if we are brave enough to go into one. Perhaps we should take a lesson from the Jews who celebrate the deliverance that hadn’t yet come but was imminent on that first night of Passover, so many centuries ago.  


This year churches will not sponsor congregational Seders, but perhaps there will be Jewish friends who will add theirs to YouTube so that we can see and visually share with them. We won’t have Holy Week and Easter in our churches, but there are many, many churches and cathedrals offering online services that we can watch and join in even if only virtually. Maybe this will be our Passover, the beginning of our release from fear and hatred, anxiety, and false promises. I hope so, anyway.

In the meantime, Gut Yontiff, Chag Sameach, Moadim l’Simchah, and Happy Passover. God will deliver us, just have faith, and it will come.

God bless us all.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, April 4, 2020.

Saturday, March 28, 2020

Sheltering




One thing about living alone is that I can make decisions for myself, at least, for the most part, decisions like what to have for dinner and when, where I go and when, and who I invite to my trailer and when. It isn’t a bad lifestyle except when faucets need new seals, the grass needs mowing, or someone tells me when and where I have to go, and I have no say in it.

I am usually a hermit. I can stay at home for days and only go out to lunch with friends on occasion, visit the grocery store, or pick up prescriptions. My record is about a full week, with no traces of cabin fever at all. This week, however, I seem to have a mad urge to go to the grocery store for something I forgot or have decided I want, go get a drive-thru burger from my favorite fast food joint, or even take a different (and sometimes longer) route to get to somewhere reasonably close by. It’s unlike me, and the reason is that there is a virus out there that kills, and I, as well as everybody else, is susceptible to it. While I don’t fear death, I’m not exactly going down steep hills on roller skates to get there.

Because of this virus, people are being encouraged, even ordered, to remain at home, work from home if at all possible, and stay put for at least fourteen days. That’s what is making me so itchy; it isn’t my choice to stay home, it’s someone else’s, and I honestly don’t like being told what I can do and when I can leave my own house.

I understand the concept of shelter-in-place as a way of cutting down cross-contamination from the virus. The Lord knows I don’t want to pass something along to someone that would kill them, any more than I would like to catch this thing and expire myself. Ok, I am almost out of a few things that I can live without for a while, but I do want to go and get them, despite the warnings. Since I have several of the designations that make me a person at risk, I know I should just stay home and only go out if truly necessary, but I just can’t always convince my mind that I am sheltering in place for my personal good and the good of others (like my cats).

“Shelter” is a word that represents safety, refuge, comfort, and protection. Quite often, it means  a temporary state, like taking cover from the rain under an umbrella, awning, canopy, or roof. We seek protection from the heat in our air-conditioned cars, homes, offices, and other buildings. We try to take refuge from war, famine, epidemics, and oppression in places that we perceive to be safer than where we are currently. Sometimes that works, quite often it doesn’t.

The Bible is full of references to sheltering. The first one that came to my mind was, “ He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High Will abide in the shadow of the Almighty”(Ps 91:1). Then there is “There will be a shelter to give shade from the heat by day, and refuge and protection from the storm and the rain” (Is 4:6). One that is frequently used in perilous times is “God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in times of trouble” (Ps 46:1). There are many more such verses, all expressing longing for and trust in God as a place for us to feel safe and protected, even from the worst of situations.

I know many have faith in verses such as these, so much so that they are sure that God will not let anything bad happen to them. So what happens if and when it does? What if a hurricane comes and floods the land and people lose their houses, places of work, and even their lives? Where is God’s refuge then?  Or what if a young child contracts a disease or illness that proves fatal, despite the prayers and supplications said on their behalf? Is the faith of the parents and loved ones misplaced then because God let an innocent life be taken?

During this epidemic, it’s easy to question where the refuge is, and whether or not God will actually act to save God’s people. We have doctors, nurses, first responders, firefighters, police, janitors, clerks, laboratory technicians – hundreds of thousands of people doing their utmost to keep as many people safe and healthy as possible, even at the risk of contracting it themselves. Can’t we see God in them, working through and with them to create a refuge under God’s wings? What about grocery clerks and stockers who put themselves in positions of vulnerability so that those looking for food and supplies might find them? It might seem funny to think of God as a janitor or cleaning person, but God loves the meek and lowly, especially those putting themselves in danger so that others might stay well.

So as we shelter in place, seeking refuge from illness and harm, let’s take time to remember those who may not see their jobs as a ministry, especially one sent from God, but nonetheless a ministry of love and hope, one that will help restore the earth and the health of all of God’s creations, human and otherwise.

Also, as we stay willingly quarantined in our homes, may we pray for those who are in danger, who have been inflicted, and who seek to be cured of their illness. Let us find ways to praise God and thank God for the homes in which we shelter, rather than the shelter we might be seeking under a bridge or a homeless shelter. We have much to be grateful for in this time of trial, so let’s spend some time considering those things rather than our shortages or greed.

Stay safe, my friends. Prayers go out for all of you, ill or healthy.

God bless.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, March 28, 2020.

The Pharisee, the Tax-Collector, and the Speculators


Luke 18:9-14


What a difference a week makes! Last week I went to the store and got everything on my list. Not everything I needed, but that was because I forgot to write some of them down, like paper towels. This week I went to the store on Monday to pick up the latest batch of "gotta have" items like cheese and paper towels but RATS! I got to the paper goods aisles, and it looked like a skeleton without anything on the bones!  Thank God last week I'd bought toilet paper, but this Monday I faced devastation. No cleaners, no towels, no TP, no sanitizers, no bleach, no Kleenex to be found. I can't remember feeling like this since we lived in the Philippines and went to Subic Bay to go to the commissary and exchange only to find that the fleet had come in and bought just about everything in both places. No bras, almost no baby furniture, no stockings, not much of anything else were available. Those of us who lived there would just have to wait until another shipment came in from the States.

I did notice that on Monday, I didn't see any wailing and gnashing of teeth. In fact, people were exchanging rueful smiles and joking comments about the lack of everything we usually depended on (including Depends). There were some who wandered down the empty aisles as if something would miraculously appear as rewards from God for the person walking by and needing those particular products, but on the whole, I didn't hear a whole lot of grumbling. It seemed that in the week since my last visit, many of us had faced up to the fact that we were going to have shortages because others had bought and hoarded common household products, and that the rest of us were simply out of luck, whether in that store, any other store in town or surrounding towns, or even from our go-to friend, Amazon.

We heard a lot more this week about quarantines, businesses closed or limiting hours, drive-thru windows at restaurants would be the only access to the food the establishment would provide, concerts and sporting events closed as were schools and even churches. We were urged to self-quarantine ourselves in our homes, find new activities to keep us occupied, work from home if possible, and explore new ways of communicating with groups and friends.

Churches began to offer services via the internet. Schools and colleges began to offer classes online to offset the brick-and-mortar classrooms that were closed for the duration.  Parents were invited to homeschool their children and include time outside for play as well as nature walks to be part of their new curriculum. All this in one week!

We have been treated to lists of celebrities and sports figures who have either been tested for the virus or have come down with it. We are told that testing would be available at some point in time for the rest of us to find out if we had been exposed, but enough for all was not yet available, much less a vaccine to prevent or ameliorate the symptoms. Once again, it seemed like the rich and famous were given preferential treatment while the rest were told to not go to work, to stay home, and wash their hands frequently.

I read the story of the Pharisee and the tax-collector and thought immediately of the crisis facing us right now. The Pharisee stood at the front of the synagogue and prayed aloud about his good deeds and righteousness while comparing himself favorably to the humble man who stayed in the shadows and said his prayers quietly. Tax-collectors were considered to be traitors to the Judaism they practiced because they gathered the taxes from the people that were required by the Roman Emperor and also added a bit onto the bills for themselves. The Pharisee reminded God of the sins of those like the man in the corner, but the tax collector prayed quietly, asking God to forgive his own sins.  

I couldn't help but think of the two men in the synagogue and compare them to people today, namely the rich who have everything they need and can always obtain more, and the poor who have to go without necessities. In addition to the rich and famous, I would add the speculators who bought up all the supplies of particular goods so that they could make money by selling them for a much higher price to those who needed them, thus increasing the gold in the pockets of the gamblers at the cost of impoverishing others.

While the tax collector did line his pockets with what we consider ill-gotten gains, to many, it was seen as the cost of doing business. Like stewards in wealthy households, padding the bill a bit gave them currency above their bare wages and made them able to improve their lives and those of the members of their families.

As we sit in our homes this week, perhaps we could think about where we have been speculators and gamblers and where we have been honest, especially in our daily doings. Have we even been truly honest with God? Indeed, God wants honesty from us, but since God already knows our sins and wickednesses, it is for our benefit that we are encouraged to speak of them to God.  It is a way of cleansing our selves and our souls, telling God about all the things we have hidden from everyone else, and knowing that God will forgive us. It is our way of bringing evil into the light and letting it be purged from us.

Lent is a perfect time to practice this purging. It is tough to do, but the reward is a lightness of spirit and trust in the One who forgives all our sins. And it can be done without going out, searching for things that aren't on the shelves yet, and coming home empty-handed but with the possibility of having acquired an illness.

Give it a shot. Also, look to see who is hoarding and speculating, and who is practicing honesty. It's a fascinating study.

God bless.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, March 21, 2020.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Prayer, the Virus, and Namaste




I pretty much feel like the most horrible person in the world to admit that I am almost grateful to the coronavirus. For a while, anyway, there are more stories, news reports, announcements, and information on the virus than the other news stories that we have encountered in the past few years.  Public rudeness, hatred, misogyny, shootings, wrong-way drivers, finger-pointing, name-calling, tweets, Facebook posts, and what have you seem to have had a monopoly on our discussions. The media also spurs it on until suddenly there’s this new threat.

Don’t get me wrong; I have empathy and sorrow for those who have contracted the virus and/or have lost loved ones to it, no matter where on earth those losses have taken place. I pray for the medical and response teams, caring for the ill and the dead, at the risk of their own lives. I sympathize with those quarantined either in their homes, hospitals, shelters, or wherever.  I regret the loss of the opportunity to go to church, receive the sacraments, and find the comfort that worship can bring. I worry about those whose jobs have been put on hold because it brings them in contact with the general populace.  Children are losing valuable education time, social events have been cancelled, sports have been curtailed. This threat causes fear and apprehension, such as we in our country have seldom seen.

It isn’t just coronavirus that has us looking uneasily over our shoulders and listening for a sneeze, cough, or panting that could indicate that we’ve been exposed. We fear for our safety, our health, and our well-being in light of social, medical, and educational programs that have been cut. We fear the sight of men, women, and sometimes teens carrying firearms in public just as those same people fear to have their arms taken away, leaving them helpless. We are frightened, anxious, and almost apathetic with so much going on that we seem to be individually unable to combat, much less defeat.

Those living in Jesus’ time had many of the same concerns, their lands conquered by the Romans. In other parts of the world, there were similar problems with other conquerors. It didn’t do to get too comfortable anywhere, because things could change radically with the direction of the wind. People tried to cure their own illnesses and injuries, sometimes with success, and sometimes with the help of those familiar with the conditions and the herbs and procedures that could possibly help.

In our own time, we rely so much on technology to inform us, help heal and cure us, and to keep us safe. Technology also raises our fears about what could happen and is happening in this crisis as well as others. It seems that which can give us so much hope and promise has given us uneasy feelings, panic, and high anxiety about what could happen.

Jesus healed and cured so many, Jew and Gentile alike. He cured the incurable, raised the dead, and brought wholeness to the broken. There were undoubtedly others who could do some of the things Jesus could, but they did not do it with the power of God behind it. Even charlatans get lucky once in a while.

When we worry, get anxious, are in fear, are facing trials and tribulations, we often call on God to help us out. We thank God for successful outcomes, and sometimes curse God when things don’t work out, or someone dies despite all the prayers. We sometimes expect an immediate correction of whatever is wrong while not thinking that God may not do it as quickly as expected, if ever. Sometimes we have lessons to learn from situations, and the causes and the resolutions through patience and practice. God has all the time in the world, so who are we to rush God just because we are in a hurry?

We say we trust God to watch over us and will be with us without our having to do anything other than ask. We also don’t always ask until we get ourselves into situations we are helpless to change or get ourselves out of. Prayer is good and accomplishes a lot, but not always everything needed at the time.

It’s good for us to trust God and feel God will be taking care of us, but we shouldn’t feel we have to test our faith to the point where we fail to take precautions or appropriate steps for ourselves and those we love. Jesus, despite his prayers to be delivered, accepted that he had to face torture and crucifixion. God could have killed the Romans around the cross and rescued His son from such pain and degradation. This was Jesus’s moment of his most complete humanity, feeling separated from God, and facing death. At that moment, some of his most mystical teachings became clearer for us, as we walk and pray our way to the joy of Easter Sunday.

It is good to trust that God watches over, protects us, and will be with us no matter what. But we should not feel we have to test that trust by merely praying and not taking proper and universal precautions. Throughout the current coronavirus situation, God expects us to do simple prophylactic things. Actions such as washing our hands for a full twenty seconds can be timed by internally singing the Doxology, saying the Lord’s Prayer, or even reciting the prologue to the Constitution of the US.  Using Kleenexes or even the bend of one’s elbow to cover a sneeze or cough can avoid airborne contamination. Saying “Bless you!” when someone sneezes can be more helpful and kind for both you and the one who sneezed than running away or a gasp of horror. Remember, a sneeze could be from an allergy or a common cold as much as from the virus.

I think I may try greeting others as Charles, Prince of Wales, has done recently. The sign of namaste, with hands folded as if for prayer and a slight bow, represents recognition, honor, courtesy, politeness, respect, and gratitude to the other person. I’ve done it in the grocery store when I’ve run into Hindus and even Sikhs, and I frequently get a return bow with a big smile. Maybe it won’t prevent coronavirus, but it will bring a sense of sharing a blessing with those from another culture. God approves of gifts of the heart.

God bless.  Namaste.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, March 14, 2020.

Sunday, March 8, 2020

Perpetua and Felicitas, Carthaginian Martyrs





Lent seems to be a perfect time for stories about the early Christian martyrs, like Perpetua, Felicitas, and the other martyrs of Carthage, who died in 202 or 203 CE.  It was a rough time for the members of the early church, what with the Caesars still being very anti-Christian, probably a fear left over from Caesar Augustus and his immediate successors.

Perpetua was a well-brought-up woman, a very young widow with a small child, and a catechumen (an unbaptized convert) in the local church. In comparison, Felicitas was a pregnant slave, soon to give birth, who was also probably a catechumen. With them were three men, Saturus, Secundus, and the slave Revocatus. We know much of their story from the writings of an anonymous writer who recorded their last days.  Extracts of this historical episode can be found at Perpetua and Felicity by James Kiefer. It’s quite interesting, yet sad, but also uplifting.

Several things struck me in this recounting. One was that Perpetua’s father came to beg her to renounce her faith for the sake of her father, her family, and her infant son. He implored her to think of what her profession of faith and public execution would do to endanger her family, although he alone would be saddened by her death. He went away sorrowfully because Perpetua chose Jesus over her family and kinfolk.

These days, sometimes young people choose a path that leads to their death, although not for the same reasons. There are many cults and sects which seem to offer unlimited peace, joy, and salvation, but which, in reality, lead their followers into drugs, false beliefs, isolation, and, sometimes, even death. That would possibly be something like the followers of Jesus in the early church, tempted by a messiah who promised heaven and rewards for living righteous lives. I wonder, would it be so easy to choose Jesus if we lived in Perpetua’s time?  What about our own?

Another thing I found interesting in this tale was that Perpetua had visions of heaven, of fighting against a gladiator who represented the devil, whom she defeated. She also had a vision of her young brother, who had died at age eight of cancer. She was reassured to see him well, as he would be in heaven.

The third thing that resonated with me was the sight in my mind of Perpetua and her group standing in the Coliseum, awaiting the deaths that were coming. They had refused the costumes the guards brought them to wear, and Perpetua told the guard that since she was being put to death for not worshiping the Roman gods, she was earning the right to die in her own clothes. That sounded a bit cheeky but was probably one of the bravest things she could have said to her captors.

Saturus was the first to die by being mauled by a leopard. The bear would not leave his cage and the wild boar killed his keeper instead. The two other men were saved, for the moment.

Perpetua and Felicity were both wounded, but Perpetua used her torn clothing to cover herself and then arranged her hair as if she were a fine lady preparing for dinner. Evidently, she felt that if she had to be executed, she would go to her death as a brave and properly clad martyr. The first four were beheaded, dying quietly and without defending themselves. Perpetua’s executioner, however, only got the job half done with his first stroke, so Perpetua guided his hand to her throat to finish the job.

When I read stories like this one, I have to try not to laugh at those who claim martyrdom today when their ideas are not accepted, they feel they are being wronged over small things, or people disagree with them. Our Christian calendar is so full of real martyrs, those who faced death because they followed Jesus and didn’t back down when the time for execution came. To me, it’s complaining of the pain of a splinter versus being shot or hacked with machetes for a much greater cause.  I think of the march to Birmingham, the martyred children of Japan, Oscar Romero, the Ugandan martyrs, and others who are so much better examples of following their faith to the very end. It’s still going on today, and we have been too silent on other massacres and martyrdoms around the world in the past. When will it end? Is the lesson of Perpetua and her companions just a nice story?

Lent seems to be calling for me to think about these things, not to make me feel bad, but to remind me that Jesus himself was martyred because of fear and arrogance among both the Romans and some of the Jews. He was crucified for our transgressions, as we are told, and so what are we willing to do in return? As surely as Jesus saved us, aren’t we called to save others? Aren’t we called to take care of the poor, the sick, children, the elderly, the imprisoned, and those who need our help to save them from persecution, bullying, and false imprisonment?

I think this week I will be thinking more on Perpetua and Felicity. They were strong women in a time when women were perceived as weak. They had the strength and faith to stand up for their beliefs, bravely and faithfully. I bet I can find some of those women around today. I think I’ll look for them this week as well. I can never have too many positive role models.

God bless.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, March 7, 2020.

Starting, Stopping, and Finishing





I am sitting in my comfortable rocker, thinking of all the things that need to be done, like cleaning the cat box, putting away the clean dishes, working on one or the other of the knitting projects I have going. Both of them I started with such anticipation, but the closer I get to the end, the harder it is for me to finish it. That goes with a lot of things, not just craft projects or household chores. This week I’ve been trying to work on mowing my lawn, and before I could finish, the motor died. Since it several weeks before I can even think about taking it somewhere to have it looked at, I realized that I really wasn’t that anxious to get it fixed. The weeds were nearly knee high, so I got out the weed whacker and started trimming around the trees, the trailer skirting, rocks, and various other things that I run into with the mower. I couldn’t finish the yard with the trimmer; it was just too hard to do.

As I went to go into the house, I noticed that there were grass clippings all over the patio, but I simply didn’t have the energy to finish cleaning up.  Today it took a lot of my energy to talk myself into going out and completing the sweep up, and so now I sit and think about what I need to work on next.

Sometimes I get a real flash of inspiration as I think about what to write about and reflect on for these pieces, these meditations. Today it flashed in my mind that I need to think about starting and finishing, not starting, then quitting in the middle.


It’s easy to leave work unfinished, thinking, “Finish it now” or “It will be there tomorrow.” If I have six more inches of knitting to finish a scarf, that’s an “It will be there tomorrow” thing. Cleaning the cat box, going to get groceries, or paying the bills are “Finish it now” things. It’s a matter of pushing a bit more to complete a task.

We’ve gone through Christmas and Epiphany, and now we are in Lent, the time of penitence, reflection, and taking steps to increase our spirituality as well as grow in Christian maturity. We usually have a plan for Lent, like we will read so much of the Bible every single day, we will pray the daily office, we will give up chocolate or some other little vice for the duration of the season, and we start with great diligence and enthusiasm. It doesn’t always work. Sometime after the first couple weeks or so, we start finding reasons why we can’t read that chapter or that part of the Bible, we can’t find the time to pray the daily office as we should, we try to make time for spiritual practices, but the kids have to be taken to school, there’s a meeting at 10:30 and it’s 9 o’clock now, or any one of 100 excuses (which we also call reasons) for why we can’t do what we said we were going to do. I know I say okay, it’s going to be this way today, but tomorrow I’ll get back into my practices, but tomorrow I’ll probably find another reason (excuse) for not doing it. I began with good intentions, but somehow it doesn’t always translate into staying motivated until I reach the end on Easter Eve.


I wonder, did Jesus ever want to say, “I don’t feel like doing this today, I’ll do it tomorrow?” It doesn’t seem that way, but to be fully human, wouldn’t he have had to be tempted in that way, even though it wasn’t as drastic as being on a high mountain and being shown the kingdoms of the world, or on top of the temple and being told to jump. Jesus had to endure small temptations, else how could he understand us, the human beings with whom he lived?


We have big lures, some of which will land us in jail, while others will simply make us feel inadequate because we didn’t have the strength to do what we should or not do what we shouldn't. Still, as they say in Twelve-Step, “One day at a time.” Sometimes one day is too long;  it has to be more like one hour, or even one minute at a time, that we have to get through in order to reach the goal.


Starting went may be easy, but like a pilgrimage, or even everyday journey, there are rough spots that have to be traversed, there are things that have to be done, whether or not we want to do them. Sometimes we have to struggle like addicts and alcoholics, mothers of straw of small children, and laborers who spend eight hours a day shifting heavy burdens from place to place. We can’t give up halfway through; we have to finish at the end of the day.


Lent is an opportunity for us to learn to pace ourselves, even if we fall every single day. It is a time of falling, picking ourselves up, and taking another step forward rather than going ten steps backward. It’s a time period in which we work to get to the end, and hopefully, when we do reach the end, we feel we have accomplished something, we have grown in some way, we have come to new understandings of things that were cloudy to us before.

We have started Lent, and now we must go through it all so we can learn what the season has to teach us this year. It will be different from what we learned last year, and probably different again from what we will learn next year, but, by going through the forth days, one step at a time, we will learn, even if it’s just a small insight. It’s something we did not have before, but yet now we have something to look at and think about, and practice.


So, have a blessed Lent. I know I will be busy trying to follow the exercises I have set for myself, pushing through what I don’t want to do to finish whatever task it is. Okay, I’m getting out of my chair now. God, help me.



Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, February 29, 2020.

Lazarus and Resurrection




John 11:1-16



Jesus had been preaching and teaching to a crowd who got angry enough at his words that they were ready to stone him. He tried to explain to them what he was doing, but they only got madder and more prepared to do him harm. Like at least one other time in his career, people who disagreed with him tried to kill him, but somehow Jesus miraculously walked through the crowd, escaping without harm. Since it seemed the better part of safety to get out of Dodge, as we might call it, he and the disciples got in a boat and made for the other side of the Jordan River, landing at the place where John the Baptizer had done his ministry.  There he stayed and began teaching to a new group of listeners.


Then Jesus received a message from Mary and Martha in Bethany, near Jerusalem, asking him to come quickly as their brother and Jesus’ good friend Lazarus was very ill. The disciples were quite puzzled when Jesus remained where he was for two full days before leaving for Bethany.  In response to their questions, Jesus reported that Lazarus was only sleeping. They must have wondered why Jesus got such an urgent message if it were only a case of sleeping.


In the Gospel of John, the writer often made things a bit more abstract or mysterious than the simple straightforwardness of the other three. His use of “sleeping” to the disciples meant that Lazarus was in the sleep of death and that Jesus’ delay in going to his friend was to teach them a lesson about belief. Jesus knew that the time was coming when they would have to remember the experience of Lazarus.


I wonder if Jesus was using Lazarus as a way to prepare his followers for his own upcoming death. In Judaism, there is the belief that the soul will rise when the Messiah comes to rebuild the Temple. Isaiah and Daniel referred to the resurrection of the soul.  In the Jewish prayer book, much like our Daily Office, God’s mercy to those who are fallen, ill, bound, and dead, are part of the morning prayers.


You sustain the living with loving-kindness. You revive the dead with great compassion. You support the fallen & heal the ill. And You release those bound. And You fulfill Your faithfulness to those who sleep in the ground. Who is like You, Master of [all] powers, King, Who causes death & gives life & causes salvation to sprout. & You are trustworthy to revive the dead. Blessed are You L·rd, Who revives the dead.   - Amida of Shah'rit / Morning Prayer of Regular Weekday *


That’s a part of a prayer I could easily make a part of my prayer life. It also makes me think a bit more about resurrection and what it means to Christians of all stripes, as well as the afterlife from other religions and sects.  I know that in some denominations, the resurrection of the dead is only guaranteed to baptized members. Others believe that the resurrection of the body means that only complete corpses (no cremains, no missing parts) will be acceptable. There are times when I have questioned (and been questioned) whether one could lose their salvation and their chance at resurrection and ascension to Heaven to be with God because of misdeeds, unforgiven sins, or some ritual, rite, or promise not done correctly or even not at all.


Still, there is Easter and the resurrection of Jesus. I can’t think that it was a one-time event, given the teachings of Jesus himself and also the raising of Lazarus, an ordinary man. I can’t believe in Hell, as I have been taught that it is the place for unsaved souls, evildoers, and the like would be sent for eternity. That doesn’t square with what I know of a loving God who loves all, even when they cause God pain because of their actions.


The delay in reaching Lazarus was a foreshadowing of the three days of Jesus’ own internment, symbolic in number and as mysterious as a walking corpse who turned out to be alive.

I wonder, did Lazarus think about his first meal, once his mind had realized that he was no longer ill, was walking from the dark tomb into the light, and had his friend Jesus to thank for all of it. It would certainly be a celebratory meal, the best that Mary and Martha could provide on such a day. Instead of a Last Supper, it would be a First Supper, maybe not as sacramental, but just as much a celebratory event.


I don’t think I’m finished ruminating about what John is trying to tell me in this passage. I’ve got the gist, but I think there’s more to be dug out of it. I also believe that with every day that passes, I am one day closer to finding out if I’m right about Heaven, Hell, resurrection, and the infinite mercy of God. One day, I’m confident I will know that mercy in its fullness. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to it. I’ve got a lot of questions I have wanted to ask

God bless.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, February 22, 2020