Balancing

 

There's not much more agitating than the sound of ker-THUNK, ker-THUNK,  the washing machine walking across the floor because it's unbalanced and unhappy. Usually, it happens when I'm up to my elbows in something else, so it's either let the washer continue to suffer or drop what I'm doing, wash my hands, and rush to push the magic pause button and try to redistribute the load, so it purrs more like a happy cat than a raging bull. Such noises bother me.

I know what it feels like to feel unbalanced, like the washing machine but without the wet clothes. I've had balance problems for some years now, and even walking down the street can make it look like I've been on a 2-week bender even though I never imbibe in alcohol. I can trip over my feet and pretend there's a crack in the sidewalk or something on the floor that made me fumble-footed. It doesn't work. I still feel clumsy and concerned I'll fall and break something, namely a hip.

There are times when life itself seems unbalanced, clumsy, anxiety-inducing, and unpleasant. I can really empathize with the washer, but I wish I could resolve my issues without having to pull things out, dripping all over the floor, and rearrange them, so things go correctly. I guess I could try to load my life more carefully, ensuring balance in every part of the circle. But when life throws a curve ball, it can mess up the whole thing.

Sometimes rebalancing can be simple, as simple as making more time for this activity and spending a little less on another. I could walk a bit more since I need to exercise more, but at 100°+ and higher-than-usual humidity, I don't really want to do that. If I wait until it gets dark, I don't feel safe wandering around, and the time before sunrise is the time I want to maximize my sleep. I live in a small place, so there isn't much room to walk around or use exercise equipment. Now, if I were the size of a cat, that might work. So here we go with unbalance again.

I usually do my main prayers in chunks. My primary time is just after I go to bed, and I often spend 10 minutes or more just reciting my prayer list before I try to get in other things I want to ask or give thanks for. During the day, arrow prayers get sent up when I see something on Facebook, in an email, or on my EfM group page. I seldom need my keys anymore, so my arrow intercessions to St. Anthony are fewer and far between. Pain prayers when my joints lock when I get up from bed or a chair are getting more frequent, as are pious words when I jam my toes or feel like I'm going to fall. I try to pray when I do my knitting at night since I'm mainly knitting shawls for people who might need the prayers, which works too.

Sometimes it's easier to connect with my best friend than with God, but on the whole, I think it pretty much evens out. If I were a nun in a convent or monastery, I'd have my time set for work, worship, study, meditation, and prayer. Living as I do, I can control my time pretty much as I want, so I probably should do more praying for the ambition to get up and do housework instead of sitting to finish a book I've been reading or a pattern in my knitting. Perhaps I need a more scheduled lifestyle, with so much time for this at such-and-such time of day and so forth. I tend to do certain chores on certain days, so maybe I'm in the process of doing that. Perhaps I need to fiddle with the schedule to add a little more study time and slightly less nap time. Maybe I can go back to a school-like schedule where I have an hour for this, followed by something else, and so on until I finish the jobs and the day is over.

It's all a matter of discipline, and I know I had it when I needed to when it came to getting work done. Maybe it's time I took it out of the closet, dust it off, and use it to my advantage. Perhaps my spiritual and prayer lives will benefit as well. I guess I won't know until I try, will I?

The Gift of Choices

 

I sat there, eating a bowl of cereal and reading a book when I ran across a conversation between two characters that made me stop and think about what was said. The main character had told a subordinate about making choices and how everything came down to what they chose. It made me think that I had the option to sit in my rocker rather than at my desk, have cheese toast instead of cereal for breakfast (or even dinner), and select that particular book because it was a favorite of mine. I had made those decisions before I read the discussion. After reading it, it suddenly made me think about how many choices I have and make every minute of every day.

I have made some bad decisions in my life; most of us have, I suppose. It's how I react to my choices that make a difference. Even my reactions to those decisions result from how I feel about how I came to choose one thing over another. If I decided on the wrong thing or path, I had the option to feel bad about it, ignore it, or make a promise to choose differently next time. Alternatively, I could learn from it and grow wiser, maybe not happy about how things turned out, but at least somewhat pleased I had a guide on possible other ways to handle something differently.

At my age, there are many things I have no control over, like my aches and pains, the cost of living, and even the ability to keep driving or give up that mode of transportation. Some aches and pains I can choose to try to alleviate with various medications, while some others I simply accept as a price of growing older. I can't control the cost of living, but I can be grateful to have a roof over my head, food for me and my boys (the cats), lights, running water, books, and knitting supplies to keep me busy. As I get older, I find I really want less and less anyway. As for transportation, donating my elderly vehicle to charity freed me from license fees, taxes, insurance, and gasoline, thus giving me extra money for groceries, utilities, and the like.

Then I started thinking about God and choices. God could have made us to be like little robots, every one exactly the same, following the same orders, doing what they were told without any recourse to selecting an individual path or action. While many parts of our lives are controlled by internal or external forces like our heart beating or being born somewhere in the world where life is more demanding and living conditions harsher, we could consider ourselves fortunate to be in a life and an environment where choices abound. I have to thank God for that.

I think about how some people can choose to believe in God while others either pass on the opportunity or never have a choice. I think I even have the option of the kind of God to believe in. Some seem to want to put God in a box and define God according to their wishes and thoughts. In contrast, others choose to believe in a God of infinite patience, kindness, justice, and mercy. The God I believe in lets me be me, faults and all, and allows me to trust that God will be with me, no matter what. Even when my faith is shaky, I still choose to believe in God; I have that choice.

Each day I make choices, including believing God loves me enough to let me make good or bad choices. I can share what I believe or keep silent about it. To testify to God's love and mercy, I don't have to mention God in every sentence (or even paragraph or page). I don't have to carry a Bible around with me all the time to impress people or identify myself as Christian. How I choose to act in any given moment or situation takes care of that. That is how I choose to demonstrate the impact of following Jesus's way of living and loving in my life.

I'm glad I have choices. It's so much better than being a puppet or a robot or stuck in a religious style that seeks to control my thoughts and behaviors directly. It all goes back to the simple choice of picking an apple or not.

Choice – what a concept, and what a gift.

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday, August 13, 2022.

Transfiguration of Jesus

Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, 'Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah'—not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, 'This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!' When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.        – Luke 9:28-36

The story of the Transfiguration is one of the familiar yet mysterious tales of Jesus. He had done a lot of teaching, preaching, and prophesying throughout his ministry. However, this time was one of the Gospels' more spectacular and mystical stories.

Jesus had gone up a mountain to pray, and the disciples longed for sleep. Although they had fallen asleep at other times, this time, they stayed awake and were amazed by what they saw. Jesus's face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly, two men, identified as Moses and Elijah, were there in conversation with Jesus. The disciples must have been almost speechless, seeing their beloved rabbi and the two greatest prophets and leaders in Jewish history glowing with God's glory and power. It was worth staying awake for, no doubt.   

The transfiguration was the visible change in the appearance of Jesus, the facial appearance, and the dazzling white garments. White garments were not unheard of, even in the clothing of workers and itinerants. Still, in a hot, dusty climate where the garments were worn daily for more than a day between washings, the white would probably appear to be more of a sandy tan. I've heard people wonder how those clothes got so clean. It's a distraction, but one that seems to pop up.

Back to the Transfiguration, however. It marked an outward and visible change, not to be confused with a transformation defined as making an inward change, perhaps something more like a metamorphosis than a transfiguration. I have heard clergy make the case that while Jesus was transfigured, the transformation took place inside the disciples, making them more aware of who Jesus was, if they had needed any more convincing than Jesus had already shown them. If their eyes hadn't seen enough proof, having God's voice coming from out of a cloud recognizing Jesus as God's Son should have shaken them to their cores and convinced them that this wasn't some dream or delusion.   

I can't say I've ever seen a transfiguration, but I have witnessed transformations. One experience was meeting a Russian Orthodox priest in a dimly-lit nave of our church and undeniably feeling and, I'm sure, seeing a kind of aura around him that fairly rang like a church bell as to his authenticity as one of God's special chosen ones. It was an extraordinary meeting, with no words exchanged since he spoke no English and I spoke no Russian. Still, it didn't need words, Moses or Elijah. It was awesome, just as it was.

I've seen transformations in people when behaviors that were harmful to them and those around them have changed. I've seen a shift in myself where I know I've changed in ways I would never have thought, both in habits and beliefs. I've seen a kind of transformation in people when suddenly a new thought or idea changed their mind about something they felt strongly about, only to find the new way was better, more just, and more like what Jesus taught.

I wish there were a way to transform the world instantly, but I feel that is almost a non-starter. Climate change, unbearable heat, constant rain and flooding, sinkholes, and raging forest fires all tell us that the earth is damaged and needs help to revive itself. Person-on-person violence and global warfare are becoming all too common, and the innocent are often the ones who pay the price. We need a global metamorphosis, a transformation to bring about what God originally intended for us.

Maybe what we need now is a Transfiguration and a voice from Heaven.

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday, August 6, 2022.

The Gift of Orion

 

The one who made the Pleiades and Orion, and turns deep darkness into the morning, and darkens the day into night, who calls for the waters of the sea, and pours them out on the surface of the earth, the LORD is his name,  -- Amos 5:8

 

I remember going outside in the twilight and looking up at the stars when I was a child. There were so many of them! We didn’t have a lot of street lights, so they were quite visible. I remember seeing those little diamond-bright lights. It was magical, even as it still is in my memories.

I don’t remember when I learned to find the Big Dipper, but it was my go-to constellation for several years when I went sky-watching in my backyard. Then, suddenly, I started studying constellations as a summer project. I got books on astronomy and tried to memorize the various constellations. Now and then, I could find the Big Dipper again, along with Cassiopea. But the big deal was finding Orion, the hunter, with his hourglass/rectangular shape and belt of three bright stars in a row. From then on, Orion was my guy, my go-to constellation, and often the one that drew my eye when I looked up. Why? I don’t quite know, but I recognize him as something there to tell me that some things are eternal and can be relied on to be there.

Funny, Amos reminds me that God made Orion. It becomes a symbol of God’s eternal presence in the sky for me to see, even when the street lights fade out so many other stars and constellations. Orion may have had different names, but he has been around in the sky for who knows how many millennia. Ancient Egyptians knew him, as did Greeks and Romans. The word for Orion in Amos is kesil,  meaning “the fool,” and the Muslim name for the constellation in the Middle Ages was al-jabbar, “the giant.” Sumerians called it Uruana, or “light of heaven.” When I look at Orion, I am aware of the millions of eyes that have sought him out over the ages and felt connected to him throughout history.

I know God is eternal, created Orion, and always present. I was taught that since my earliest days of Sunday School. Still, on my daily pre-dawn walks, I found comfort in seeing that constellation in the sky above me. I was aware of God, but it was like God knew a little visual affirmation was welcome. Even now, if I go out in the evening for something, my eye always looks for Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mitaka, the three stars of the belt, and then for Betelgeuse, Bellatrix, Saiph, and Rigel. Then I thank God for the reminder.

Are there constellations, stars, natural things like rivers, mountains, trees, or lightning that remind you of God whenever you see them? Is it reassuring, or is it simply a reminder? There are times when I see kittens, and they remind me of God and God’s love. Silly, maybe, but reminders never seem to hurt. Puppies often do the same thing as my river back home and that pine tree on Monument Hill that I used to love to sit under. Here in the desert, Orion works that way for me.

Hopefully, one day I will be able to thank God in person for all the blessings I’ve been given – including kittens, my river, and Orion. There are other things, too, like good friends, happy memories, gifts, and grace, but for now, I’ll be genuinely grateful for my shortlist.

 Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday, July 30, 2022. 

Teasing and Tickling

 

The weather has been hot, which is nothing unusual here in Arizona this time of year. The humidity has been uncomfortable. Okay, 90% is humid and miserable for those back home, especially when the thermometer hovers above 90 degrees F. For us, though, we are more used to lack of humidity – anything from 7-10%. Right now, in the early evening, it is 20%, but at six o'clock this morning, it was more like 30-35% at 90 degrees. In short, it was very uncomfortable. The weather reports keep saying we'll have rain in this corner of the Valley of the Sun, but so far, we've had only a few 30-second rainstorms.

It's like the weather is teasing us, sending us humidity. Still, no rain comes to alleviate a severe drought that is emptying our rivers and lakes. It is really getting serious here. On the other side of the Valley (50 miles away or so), and even up north in the mountains, they're getting enough rain to cause minor inconveniences or even serious flooding. In one town up north, flooding left 44 people who could not be reported safe for about 24 hours. Luckily, all were found alive and well.

Teasing is seldom a totally nice thing. Families do it, usually with love and mutual enjoyment. Still, there are times when even the closest of siblings get on each other's nerves with what seems funny to the teaser, but not always to the recipient. Teasing can lead to bullying, which is never a good thing, whether from a sibling, a person in authority, a teacher, a priest or other clergy, or even a classmate or co-worker. We seem to live in a culture where bullying is decried publicly but is allowed privately to go on unchecked. We seem helpless to do anything about it. Yet, many acts of mass violence seem rooted in someone's experiences of being bullied until they take it upon themselves to turn the tables. How many fatalities have we had this year already because of situations like that?

There is another form of teasing, though. Did you ever try tickling trout or noodling catfish? It's usually done in reasonably calm water and requires slow, almost imperceptible movements. The fingers start at the base of the tail and slowly tickle the fish along the belly until the fisherman reaches the head. Then the fish is nabbed by the gills and lifted from the water. The fish seems to enjoy the tickling part as it puts them in a seeming trance until they suddenly find themselves out of the water and in someone's cooler.

I wonder – are there times when God uses the same kind of technique to more or less move us along or at least get us to a place where we are quiet enough to listen to what we are being told? Does the Spirit use her feathers to gently soothe us into a state where we are open to suggestions and directions? Sometimes, whispering in the ears doesn't work, and we are too busy to pay attention. So if we find a quiet pool in which to swim, maybe that's the best time to get us in the mood to listen.

These days, quiet pools are often very few and far between, or they suit alligators and other predators searching for easy dinners. Even at night, when we try to compose ourselves to sleep, the hum of a mosquito or the constant rattling of windows from passing cars with extra-loud bass speakers get in the way. We seem to fall asleep immediately from exhaustion or lie twitching or turning when sleep seems to have gone on vacation.

Suppose we could just get to the point where we can lie there, maybe add a few prayers to our daily quota, or contemplate something we have heard or read. In that case, God (and the Spirit) have a chance to get a word in edgewise, even if they have to tickle us into a kind of trance. No tickling of the feet should be required.

We must learn to tease our minds and bodies into a place where we are open to what is around us and what thoughts come to us. Little ideas that come to us during our busy times are still in the brain, and maybe we need to noodle them into our calmer consciousness.

Not long ago, I was trying to sleep when I remembered thinking earlier in the day that maybe I could return to knitting prayer shawls as a ministry rather than merely a way to keep my hands busy or, as the old saying goes, off the streets and out of the bars (even my Southern Baptist relatives use that saying!). The knitting is calming, soothing, and relaxing. It is also creating something for someone else who may need the comfort and feeling of being hugged when needed, even if no human arms are present at the time. I have begun knitting again for other people and finding joy in it, even if I don't know for whom each item is intended or how I will know it's needed.

The challenge is, what can we do to find our own quiet pools and places to let ourselves feel safe and relaxed enough to let God in? It's a challenge that can improve our relationship with God and release our bodies from tension and anxiety simultaneously.

Come to think of it, the sound of rain on the tin roof would do that for me too. I wonder when I'll hear it again. (Deep sigh.)

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday, July 16, 2022.

Celebrating What

 Thank goodness the 4th of July is over for another year. There haven’t been any fireworks booming, banging, and hissing for a few nights, and the cats have returned to their usual selves. I feel sorry for them when they get upset – which is infrequently. I can’t explain why the noise is temporary and why we set fireworks on particular events. Heaven, help me; sometimes, I can’t figure that out either.

I can’t say that this July 4th was a particularly joyous one. With all the political jiggery going on, the day we celebrate having rights we won by defeating the British seems like a mockery. Come to think of it, many of our religious liberties are being dictated to us by people who disagree with us on what religion is and which one is the most correct. 

I notice that rights are being determined by theo-political groups who pride themselves on being firm believers in their version of the “true religion.” Many of these groups pride themselves on demanding freedom of religion for their beliefs, yet, they do not wish to allow it for any other group who dissents from that position. I find it a bit strange that some groups are very much anti-abortion because, to them, abortion is murder. Yet, the same groups are often very vocal about their right to own assault weapons which are military weapons. Some religious groups believe that life begins at conception, even though the embryo is non-viable on its own at that stage. In contrast, others believe life begins at the first breath outside the womb. Who’s right? And who has the right to demand their position is the only true and correct one?

I am a Christian by choice and Episcopalian by conviction. I don’t believe my church has all the answers to every question, but it teaches me that faith in God’s grace and Jesus’s teachings are paramount. I believe in diversity because I’ve been taught that all people are children of God, whether or not they use that name or understand God the same way I do or even look the same way I do. I don’t think God will be upset with me because I love the history, traditions, and struggles the church has gone through and continues to work through to this day. 

I find beauty and strength in other faiths as well as my own. To me, Buddhist Zen gardens and meditations are like contemplative and centering prayer in my own tradition. Jewish history and traditions are among the cornerstones of my own Christianity, and we use the writings found in the Tanakh in our own Bibles. The Five Pillars of Islam are like our Ten Commandments, basic rules for living which include worshipping God and caring for others. Native Americans revere creation, the lives and traditions of their ancestors, and strive to walk in beauty throughout their lives. In my opinion, my own Christianity is expanded and enriched by acknowledging the gifts other faiths bring to the table. Maybe I’m wrong, but it’s what my faith and my heart tell me.

I don’t want everybody in the universe to be Episcopalian (although it would be lovely if we all sang out of the same hymnbooks!). Neither do I want everybody to be Roman Catholic, Muslim, Jewish, Native American, Hindu, Animist, Evangelical, or any other single belief system. 

Imagine the crown jewels of Great Britain. Wouldn’t they be boring if they were all diamonds or all pearls? What if every tree were the same size, shape, and shade of green? What if all rocks were the same size or composed of the same mineral? Wouldn’t it be boring if every day were sunny with no rain or snow for a change? What about if everyone had to wear the same color of clothes, say sky blue pink, as my Mama would say? Even if everyone spoke the same language, like English, we still would have misunderstandings because we don’t all understand life the same way and have our own interpretation of what a specific word means (not to mention idioms and spellings). 

I know many problems to overcome, and in my heart, I despair at many of the decisions made these days. Even when there were only two people in the Garden of Eden, they still didn’t agree on everything. But maybe if we all paid attention to basics like being kind to one another, treating others with respect, and honoring the earth and all it gives us, things would be better?  

I hope next time the Fourth of July rolls around, things will be better, brighter, and more geared toward equality and justice, as the Founding Fathers hoped. Meanwhile, I’ll continue to pray, try to respect others the way I would like to be respected and work to help others feel safe, equal, and accepted. And may next year be quieter so that the animals aren’t frightened and lost because humans have to make a lot of noise that sounds like war to celebrate freedom and peace.

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday, July 9, 2022.

Uncomfortable Words

 

'Who then is the faithful and wise slave, whom his master has put in charge of his household, to give the other slaves their allowance of food at the proper time? Blessed is that slave whom his master will find at work when he arrives. Truly I tell you, he will put that one in charge of all his possessions. But if that wicked slave says to himself, "My master is delayed," and he begins to beat his fellow-slaves, and eats and drinks with drunkards, the master of that slave will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour that he does not know. He will cut him in pieces and put him with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. – Matthew 24:45-51

'Who then is the faithful and wise slave, whom his master has put in charge of his household, to give the other slaves their allowance of food at the proper time? Blessed is that slave whom his master will find at work when he arrives. Truly I tell you, he will put that one in charge of all his possessions. But if that wicked slave says to himself, "My master is delayed," and he begins to beat his fellow-slaves, and eats and drinks with drunkards, the master of that slave will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour that he does not know. He will cut him in pieces and put him with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. – Matthew 24:45-51

When I read today's Daily Office gospel reading, it was familiar in its opening. Jesus talks about fig trees and how when summer comes, the fruit ripens. That brings memories of Mama's fig preserves, made from the fruit of a large tree at my aunt and uncle's farm, brought home and carefully prepared and canned. I loved those preserves.

Then I get to the second coming and how no one knows when it will happen. Not even Jesus himself knew, but surely the time would come, and some would rise to heaven while others would be left behind. Some denominations wrap a great deal of their theology around this, but I don't really think about this very much. There are many more important things to contemplate. I will try to be ready, but I'm not going to stress about it or look for signs and wonders that are said to precede it.

Next comes the part quoted above. I've been reading the Bible for years, but this was the first time this passage truly brought me up short. For some reason, I could not read the word "slave" but found myself substituting "employee" or "co-worker" instead. I know the translation I read referred to the customs of the first century A.D. I can accept that as I try to read the scriptures through the eyes and ears of those times. I can do it most of the time, but not this time. So why is it different now?

I grew up in the South, where slavery was a historical fact, and we couldn't change that history no matter what we wanted to or even could. My teens saw the beginning of the Civil Rights Movement, and I saw the riots and gradual dismantling of customs and beliefs I grew up with. The church I had chosen (or where God had called me to be) began adjusting just as society and the times changed. It was good to hear sermons about all of us being equal in God's sight instead of the "us vs. them" I had often heard in my childhood. It took me a long time to stop seeing myself as a flawed sinner who seemed far from God's grace and love and began to see myself as who I was. Then it was time for me to see others in the same light. We were all God's beloved children, who would have seen our pictures proudly stuck on the doors of God's refrigerator.

Lately, there's been a lot more emphasis on seeing all people as human beings, equal in rights and status. Oh, we still have rich and poor, sick and well, those for whom learning is difficult and those who always seek more and more education. We still have people with different skin colors and cultural traditions. It isn't uncommon to walk through a grocery store and hear people speaking in native tongues we don't understand. We hopefully realize that the world is a much smaller place than it used to be, and what happens on the other side of the globe affects us whether we think it should (or would) or not.

Our language is changing as our views change. For many, the King James English of the Bible is almost as foreign as the Hebrew, Aramaic, and Koine Greek, in which it was first put down on paper. Even more modern translations use phrases we may not like, but we need to read them to understand the culture from which the stories, sayings, and teachings came.

Slavery still exists today, and that's a known fact. We hear stories of the sex trade, kidnapped children forced to work instead of being allowed to be children, and teens are recruited into cults and gangs to increase their numbers and solidify their power. Women are still fighting for the right to choose how their body is used. Non-Caucasians struggle to be free of hate speech and fear of being beaten or killed simply because of their skin color or origin. LGBTQ+ want to be able to be open about who they are and who they love. The world wants to be free of warfare and pillage, and people want to live in peace and tranquility instead of terror and desperation.

I know I have to read the word "slave" in this passage, but my mind rejects it even as I realize that slavery is real and present. I can wish, hope, and pray for a time when people will read "slavery" and ask what that means. I doubt I will live long enough to see the total eradication of slavery, but I can pray to see more steps in the right direction. In God's sight, we are all equal. The sooner we realize that the better off we will be, at least IMVHO.

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday, July 2, 2022.

An Anthem We All Can Sing

 Lift every voice and sing 

Till earth and heaven ring,

Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;

Let our rejoicing rise

High as the listening skies,

Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.

Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,

Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us.   

Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,

Let us march on till victory is won.

Stony the road we trod,

Bitter the chastening rod,

Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;   

Yet with a steady beat,

Have not our weary feet

Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?

We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,

We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,

Out from the gloomy past,   

Till now we stand at last

Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years,   

God of our silent tears,

Thou who hast brought us thus far on the way;

Thou who hast by Thy might   

Led us into the light,

Keep us forever in the path, we pray.

Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,

Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;

Shadowed beneath Thy hand,   

May we forever stand.   

True to our God,

True to our native land.  --  James Weldon Johnson*

Today the church celebrates James Weldon Johnson, a man of many talents and contributions, including writing, speaking, diplomacy, reconciliation,  activism, and teaching. Throughout his life, from his birth in 1871 until he died in 1938, he constantly sought to make the world better for his people and, indeed, for all people. 

He was a gifted writer, as exemplified in sermons such as “The Creation” and poems such as “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” They allowed the world to be exposed to how African Americans saw and understood their world and their faith. Introduced to “The Creation” in high school,  the imagery and the expression of God creating the world in a manner I’d never heard captured me. It was seeing a familiar story through different eyes. It is still one of my favorite works.

I first remember hearing “Lift Every Voice and Sing” as part of a presentation opening the 1991 General Convention of the Episcopal Church. I was still coming to grips with my upbringing in the South and the changes in the country and the world. While I liked the catchy tune, I still saw it as a song I had trouble singing with any real feeling of connection. Over the intervening years, I’ve heard it more and more often. I’ve also changed my world perceptions as I’ve gotten older. I look at things with different eyes, and in the song, I now see a song all of us can join in singing, especially the third verse. 

Examining the words, I’ve learned to see not only Black history in its content but also the struggles of many others. Until there are no more second-class citizens, no more place names, teams, and racial jokes, we won’t genuinely have reached even the edge of equality. I don’t want to co-opt the song or the reasons for its existence and meaning. Still, I appreciate its contribution to understanding and appreciating the struggles and contributions of James Weldon Johnson and the people and their predecessors for whom the poem was originally written.

The struggle for equality has been hard for almost everyone of every race, culture, ethnicity, orientation, and belief. The battle isn’t over by any means. Still, Johnson’s words urge us all to unite in fighting injustice and inequality wherever it occurs. As the prophet Micah put it, “…Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God” (6:8). It’s as necessary today as it was when Micah spoke it. We haven’t gotten nearly as far in following it as we possibly could. Maybe a few more rousing hearings and singing of “Lift Every Voice” might encourage us along a bit.

Shadowed beneath Thy hand,   

May we forever stand.   

True to our God,

True to our native land.

Hear! Hear!

God, the Desert, and Disaster

 I'm looking at maps of our country, weather maps specifically. The other day a friend in Minnesota reported temperatures in his area were above 110°, roughly the same temperatures we were experiencing here in the Phoenix area. Yet, at the same time, Yellowstone National Park had massive rains and snowmelt, causing whole sections of the park to become isolated. It hasn't stopped yet, so repairs haven't even begun, but it will take a lot of time to restore damaged areas if they can be rebuilt or restored.

Living in the desert, I have learned to hate the heat. I know Jesus lived in a warm, if not hot, climate, but things then weren't this bad. Thank goodness for that, anyway. Imagine spending forty days in the wilderness (desert) with no food or water. Even a day without water can be a death sentence. We have news reports every summer about people (including homeless ones) dying of heat stroke and dehydration. Living in air-conditioned comfort can be hard if people can't afford to pay the electric bill to maintain the a/c, lights, refrigerators, and the like. 

When it rains here (we usually average about 9" per year compared to the national average of 38"), the ground is already baked so hard that it can't absorb the rain as fast as it comes down. Then we get flash floods, which are deadly in themselves. Whole families have been wiped out simply from being in a dry wash when a heavy storm hits uphill from them. Trees, rocks, sand, dirt, and, quite often, household items people have dumped rather than disposed of properly speed down even gentle slopes and become torrents. Even the family swimming pool, dangerous as they are to unsupervised children, can become overfilled with water. There's no such thing as being too careful in the desert. What may seem like a gentle dip in the road only an inch or so deep can actually be much deeper. Rescue crews are out frequently to attempt to save those who ignore the "Do not cross when flooded" signs. 

Some folks say that God sends us this sort of thing to test us, to make sure we trust God rather than the local weatherperson or someone hundreds of miles away making projections. There is the old joke about the man sitting on the roof of his house, surrounded by flood waters, waiting for rescue. A man in a boat comes by and offers help, but the man sends him away. God will provide, the man says. A helicopter comes overhead with a line and a life ring attached, so the man simply has to grasp and hold on. He waves it away also, saying that God would provide. He dies and comes before God. "Why didn't you save me?" he said. "I trusted you would provide, and you didn't!" "Oh, but I did," God said. "Who do you think sent the man in the boat and the ones in the helicopter?" 

Individually, we can't always save ourselves when we get into trouble. That's why we depend on people like police, first responders, doctors, nurses, good Samaritans, and the like. We trust that our bridges are safe from collisions with large ships and tons of debris from floods. We depend on fire crews and ambulances to rush to our aid when we have accidents or fires in our homes or offices, and we get angry when they often take several minutes to an hour or more to reach us. We want to be saved, relieved of pain, and put back to normal immediately, regardless of what we did to put ourselves in danger to start with.

I'm far from saying, "Don't trust God. Do it yourself." My reasoning process tells me that God's right there, but that by giving me free will, I have the opportunity to take care of myself and my own needs with God's encouragement. I can't always just depend on myself, though. I need to learn to recognize when I'm out of my depth and need more help than I can muster on my own. A child's smile can help pull me out of a depressive time. A helping hand to steady me when I trip and start to fall can save me broken bones. A call from someone who tells me they were just thinking of me can brighten a gloomy day. A prayer shawl around my shoulders can provide a hug when there aren't any humans around to give me one when I need it. Maybe God doesn't exactly grab me mid-air when I'm about to fall or call me on the phone when I feel down, but I am sure God spurs the actions of those children and adults who give aid and comfort when I need it.

I may live in a desert, but God's there as surely as God is present by my river back home, in the forests of Oregon that I love so much, and the mountains that are so awe-full to me. I can be afraid when disaster strikes, but I never for a moment consider it a test from God, only a chance to trust God and do what I can to help myself and others. 

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday, June 18, 2022.

Restoring the Kingdom of God

 ‘… As you go, proclaim the good news, “The kingdom of heaven has come near.” Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment. Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff; for labourers deserve their food. Whatever town or village you enter, find out who in it is worthy, and stay there until you leave. As you enter the house, greet it. If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it; but if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you. If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town. Truly I tell you, it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgement than for that town.

‘See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.’  – Matthew 10:7-16 (Eucharistic Gospel reading for the Feast of St. Barnabas)

I hear a lot about various Christian denominations and groups proclaiming their love and obedience to Jesus. Some of these groups seem picky in how they choose verses they use to convince others of their essential Christianity. It looks as if this particular part of Matthew gets ignored somewhat regularly by such groups. I know that Christians are not supposed to judge others. Still, when it comes to neglecting to follow or scoffing at those who try to follow passages such as this one, it is hard not to judge others by the teachings they perpetuate and the ones they ignore.

Take heaven, for instance. For some, heaven is a place where all Christians will go bye-and-bye if they are good and follow the teachings of Jesus (selective ones, that is). Meanwhile, the earth and all its resources are to be used for humankind’s benefit, and the heck with conservation and ecology. For other followers of Jesus, the kingdom of heaven is the Kingdom of God, to whom all creation belongs. It seems God intends for us to recreate the kingdom about on the earth, right here and right now. We can’t do that if we’re causing the depletion of natural resources, the extinction of hundreds of species of creatures, and ignoring ways to halt or prevent further disasters such as climate change. We can’t do it if we overthink about an accumulation of goods for ourselves while others starve, fall ill, are put into any form of slavery, or even die for lack of food, shelter, health care, or justice.

In this passage, Jesus teaches a form of judgement, or perhaps discernment is a better word. The disciples and followers were to go out into the world, taking no more than was absolutely necessary (including money), and seek out those who would be receptive to the teachings of Jesus. If people in the village or town they were visiting were inhospitable or not listening, the preachers and teachers would leave for another place. If, however, the citizens were receptive, their hospitality should be accepted until it was time to go forth again. It was a case of making a judgement – with clear-cut boundaries for those decisions.

We’re still trying to make those judgements, and it seems we often fail to act when we should. Jesus certainly never told us to go out and buy assault rifles and extra-large clips. In fact, he mentioned not even taking even a staff when his followers were going out to spread the word. How God must weep when innocents such as the children of Uvalde, Texas, are mown down by other children with access to high-powered weapons only military personnel should need. Restoring the kingdom of God on earth was likened to taking swords and turning them into plowshares, not forming them into larger and larger caliber weapons to spread more and more destruction.

The kingdom of God on earth means treating all as equals. It means respecting the earth and its resources and protecting them from destruction and waste. The poor should be adequately housed, with plenty of food, access to adequate health care, and safety from bullying and other forms of harassment. The sick should have the ability to receive treatment without worrying about whether their food budget would have to be slashed to pay for medicine or treatment. As for casting out demons, the only exorcism needed is for people to learn to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. 

So there we have it laid out before us – Jesus’s whole teachings in a nutshell. Why then is it so easy to overlook and so hard to bring about? Perhaps it is the verses we choose to pay attention to and the ones we ignore. Maybe we should go back and re-read the gospels, paying attention to all they say, not just familiar or comfortable verses.

It certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Originally published on Episcopal Café as part of Episcopal Journal, Saturday, June 11, 2022.