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.

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 50^th 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.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.