Meditation on This Week's Gospel

The readings for Sunday, February 12, 2012:

First Reading: 2 Kings 5:1-14

Psalm: Psalm 30

Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 9:24-27

Gospel: Mark 1:40-45

Today's readings revolve around healings. The Old Testament reading shows Naaman, who almost refuses a healing experience, because it involves a simple bath in a humble river. He wanted something grander and glorious. We might think about how many times we get in the way of our own health and wholeness by refusing to believe that the process can be so easy.

The Gospel lesson shows Jesus healing a leper. Those of us in the 21st century forget what Jesus is doing by this healing. We aren’t familiar with the complicated purity laws of the ancient world. By touching the leper, and by the leper telling everyone, Jesus effectively exiles himself. He cannot stay in town because by touching the impure, he makes himself impure—at least, that is what the Law would dictate.

This story of Jesus gives us an interesting view of contamination and defilement. Jesus will address our very human ideas of what defiles throughout his career. He will remind us again and again that we focus on the wrong things. We worry about contamination from things that cannot hurt us while not paying attention to the beliefs and behaviors that endanger our very souls.

It’s easy for us to scoff at purity laws from 2000 years away. It’s worth considering our modern conflicts through the lens of purity laws. What tears our communities apart? What takes people away from community? Why do we exile people?

I love this vision of God that Jesus shows us. God doesn't take on human form in order to tell us how icky we are. God comes to us in the form of Jesus and chooses to be with the most outcast of the outcast. When presented with a choice, Jesus makes it clear that God chooses to be with the lowly and the exile.

And here, in this Gospel story, the people leave their human communities to go be with Jesus. I wonder if that should be a lesson to us as well. We are not likely to find God in the hallways filled by powerful people. We will find God in the outposts of civilization, in the crumbling corners of human empires.

That doesn't mean that we're forbidden to hang out with the powerful. Indeed, some of us might see it as our mission to hang out with the powerful, to remind them of their duty to the poor and downtrodden. One wonders how this current economic crisis might have turned out differently, had we not left Wall Street to the powerful men. I've read lots of interesting articles about how women might have made a difference, had they been a presence on Wall Street. I wonder the same about Christians. If more of us made our way to the highest places of power, could we affect the course of human history? To use the language of Martin Luther King, could we arc that history towards justice?

Or would we become like Naaman, who has leprosy but doesn’t have to leave the community because he’s powerful. His arrogance flowers out of that power. He almost walks away from the gift of wholeness because of that arrogance.

The outcast of civilization have a gift that doesn't come to the rest of us so easily. The rest of us find it easy to believe that we have accomplished all that we have and accumulated all that we have because of our skills, talents, and gifts. We don't like to admit that much of our present status has to do with luck--we were born to the right parents at the right time or we had other advantages that others didn't. We like to think that we have a certain power--and if we're not careful, we come to think of ourselves as gods--and then why bother to have a relationship with God, if we're so fabulous?

The dispossessed labor under no delusions. They have seen the underside of power. They understand that humans who rely on their own power can do dreadful harm. They know that they need God.

The words of Psalm 30 offer all of us consolation: we may weep all night, but eventually joy will come to us. That’s the good news that we hear again and again in our Scriptures. Most of us need that vision, that promise, as we suffer through all sorts of defilements and exiles. God promises that it will be so.

Planning for Our Lenten Disciplines

In two weeks, we will be at the day before Ash Wednesday, the day before Lent begins.  Many of us will take up a Lenten discipline, and we may need some time to plan.  In honor of that, I'm reprinting below the essay that I wrote for the Living Lutheran website last year.  Longtime readers of this blog will remember that I have also done multi-blog post series about the same theme.


Launch Into Lent

Have you decided what you will give up for Lent yet? In the past, a Lenten discipline meant giving something up, often something that we shouldn’t have been doing anyway. Those Lenten disciplines are still valid, especially if you tie the giving up to something spiritual (for example, you’ll give up sugar and contribute the money you would have spend on sweets to Lutheran World Relief). But what if instead of giving something up, we added something to enrich our spiritual lives? For those of you who are baffled, below are some suggestions to help you launch into Lent.



Increase Your Reading:

You might wail, “But what should I read?” Why not start with the Bible? Read a Gospel from beginning to end. Dip into some of the other New Testament books. Read a Psalm a day.

Lent is also a good time to add some devotional reading to your day. You’ve got a lot of possibilities. Choose a theological author, and chances are good that someone has taken part of their work and transformed it into a devotional resource. Augsburg Fortress has a wonderful 40 Day Journey With ___ series (Julian of Norwich, Madeleine L’Engle, and Kathleen Norris, among many others) which combines the writing of the author, some Scripture reading, some questions to ponder, and some writing prompts.

You might decide you want to continue this discipline beyond Lent. Luckily the Augsburg Fortress series has many books. For a more traditional series with reading alone, look for the A Year with ___ Series (Thomas Merton, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and C.S. Lewis, among many others).


Boost Your Prayer Life:

If you’re not praying on a regular basis, now’s a good time to start. Begin your day with prayer, or end it with prayer or both. If you’re not sure what to say, start with thank you. Or, pray the Lord’s Prayer. If you want a bit more discipline, try praying for people who annoy you. Pray for countries that seem opposed to ours. Pray for peace. Ask God for what you need. Ask God to be with leaders. Ask God to be with those who need help: pray for the sick, pray for the newly wedded, pray for that homeless person you always see wandering around, pray for your boss, pray for your family, pray for the local schools.


Experiment with a Creative Practice:

You may not think of yourself as creative, but you likely were creative once. Try one or more of the following to reconnect with your artistic self:

--Buy a big box of crayons (or paints or pastels or any medium that makes you excited). Create a picture that addresses your spiritual life.

--Go to the store and buy 3 bouquets of flowers. Rearrange them into two bouquets and put them where you'll see them and be reminded of God's flowering love for you. Take this process one step further: plant a flower pot or a garden.

--The image of God as a potter recurs in the Bible. Buy some clay and play with it. If you are the clay, how is God shaping you? Make that shape.

--Learn to bake bread. Bread dough is amazingly forgiving, and will endure countless experiments.

--Start a spiritual journal. Each day, write down 5 things you’re grateful for. Or write down people you need to remember to pray for. Or write a short meditation on a Bible verse or a song. Make a list of where you see God at work in the world. Write out your prayers.


Step Up Your Charitable Efforts:

Hopefully, you’re already making some attempt to be part of God’s vision for social justice, either by contributing time, money, or materials. You might consider a few of the following suggestions:

--Make an extra contribution to your favorite charity. Maybe you could make one extra contribution per week. It doesn’t have to be huge. But it could be.

--Clean out your closets. Give away anything you haven’t worn in the past year. Clean out your kitchen cupboards.

--When you go to the grocery store, buy some extra food for your favorite charity.

--See if you can’t increase your tithe by 5 or 10 percent above what you’re doing now.

--Give some extra time during Lent. Volunteer at a soup kitchen or a food pantry. Go to a nursing home and sing some old Gospel songs. Think about the people you know who have lives that are falling apart; go buy cards and put them in the mail.


Try a Spiritual Practice that You’ve Never Tried Before:

Don’t feel compelled to go too far outside of your comfort zone. But even within your comfort zone, you’ll probably notice many practices that you might have wanted to try or that you once tried and let fall away:

--Pray the Rosary (or any set of beads): If you’re not sure of how to do this, just offer up a different prayer as you touch each bead. Perhaps for each bead, you’d like to remember a specific person. Perhaps for each bead you’d like to offer up thanks for one thing for which you’re grateful. If you’re not good at creating prayers, simply pray the Lord’s prayer. If you want to really return to your Catholic roots, go here.

--Find a labyrinth and walk it. Many churches and retreat centers have installed labyrinths. To find one near you, go here. What do you do once you’re there? Simply walk. Follow the path in and follow it back out again—you can’t go wrong. Some people pray or recite a Bible verse as they walk.

--Go to a weekly concert. Many churches offer a weekly concert during Lent, often at lunchtime. Call some of the churches around your workplace to see if they’re offering anything. Leave the office, sit in a worship site, and enjoy some different music.

--Many churches offer an extra service during the week or Bible study. Resolve to add one opportunity to your weekly schedule.

 
I haven't decided on my Lenten discipline, and there are plenty of other possibilities out there.  Perhaps this will be the year that I decide not to take on any additional disciplines; the thought of taking on more exhausts me.  Perhaps I will find my Lenten discipline in paring down my commitments.  Many of the above suggestions are easy for me.  Saying "no" is much more difficult.

Are We Being Called to Something Else?

I must confess, I'm not sure how our pastor got to his closing chunk of sermon from the lectionary texts.  He gave us a survey of people in the Bible who had been called by God.  Some reacted more graciously than others.  Moses, you may remember, was very resistant:  "No, not me, God.  You've got the wrong guy.  Choose someone else.  Leave me alone."  Mary, on the other hand, got on board very quickly.

Our pastor asked us if God might be calling us to something different.  I nodded.

He asked us what it might be.  I wish I knew.

I wish that God spoke in a language other than burning bushes or tiny whispers.  Give me a scholarship or a grant, and I'll understand where you're sending me, God.

I realize that as I was thinking that above statement, I had spent part of the morning writing about my joy at being asked to write prayers.  I think about my joy at being part of communion.  I think about how satisfying it is to serve dinner to any population who is hungry.

Our pastor ended with my favorite Frederick Buechner quote from  his book Wishful Thinking: "The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."

Missing puzzle pieces:  how to pay the bills and how to pay for health care.

I envision God laughing at what must seem like minor issues in the cosmic schemes:  "I have this gorgeous plan for you and you want to talk about health insurance??!!!"

Yes, our human minds do get hung up on minor details.  I want to be more like Mary, but I fear I am like Moses, full of doubt and self-loathing and fear.

Sunday Gratitude: Writing Prayers

In this post, Nancy Devine reminds us that most of us have a pretty good life:  "So I guess this post is about reminding myself that life is good when I've got time to think about my computer or when I can spend ten minutes or so cleaning up my Netflix's queue. Sure, I could have better hair, our house could be cleaner...I could finish the novel lounging on my hard drive."


But overall, life is good for her, and I suspect for many of us.

Today, I am grateful for many things, but what's making me happiest this morning is that I got an offer to write prayers for Bread for the Day, a daily devotional put out by Augsburg Fortress press.  Last year, I worked on this project for the first time, and I found that I really loved writing the prayers (for more on the writing process, see this blog post).

The editor tells us that the 2011 edition has sold out.  How wonderful to think of all those people using that book.

I wrote the prayers for August, and since the book has sold out, maybe this August, I'll reprint some of them here.  If the book hadn't sold out, I might worry that by publishing them here, I'd be cheating the publisher.  But since the book is sold out, I'm less worried.  I won't put them all here; I like a blog with variety, and I suspect you do too.  But I was really pleased with some of those prayers, and I'd love to share them further.

Let me hasten to add that I don't think the end product was the result of me alone.  Before writing, I prayed for guidance and inspiration.  I live in hope that God answered that prayer.

I worked on a variety of writing projects in the past year, but writing prayers for the devotional book was one of my favorite tasks.  I'm happy to be able to do it again this year.

May your Sunday deliver all sorts of blessings, those you hope for and those that will surprise you.

Candlemas and Sprouting Seeds

I realize that much of the country is not having the kind of bleak winter that they've had in the not-too-distant past.  It was just a year ago that I wondered how badly the AWP conference would be disrupted by all the severe winter weather closing airports across the nation.  It was 2 years ago that my travel plans to go to the DC area to lead a retreat at my mom's church had to be postponed because of a monster snowstorm that was so huge that my airline flight was cancelled even before the first flake fell.

Still, some of us find February difficult.  If you're one of those, head over to this post by Christine Valters Paintner.  She reminds us that this time of year, with St. Brigid's Day and Candlemas, celebrates the light shining in the darkness, the seeds already germinating in the ground.  She encourages us to go inward  to see what's sprouting inside ourselves:  "Candlemas and Imbolc are traditionally a time to look forward. What does the new life stirring in your own world sound like? Can you hear it deep within you? How can you nurture this seedling in the fertile dark earth of your soul in the coming days?"

On Wednesday, I left work to go help with dinner for the homeless over at First Lutheran.  I always try to get there a smidge early, so that I can spend some quiet time in the sanctuary.  On Wednesday, I noticed that there's already more late afternoon light playing with the stained glass.  The seasons shift in barely perceptible ways.

At the end of dinner, as I headed back to the office, I thought about how satisfying it is to serve dinner, a job where one can see progress immediately.  At the end of an hour, 85 people leave with full tummies.


The cynics might point out that the progress doesn't last very long.  It's not like we're permanently solving the problem of hungry people with no food.

On Sunday, I had a meeting with a college student who's down here in South Florida doing an internship at a local social justice agency.  We talked about community resources here and community resources at other places we've lived.

While we do have some great individual community resources, we don't have a strong network.  There are other areas of the country that do a much better job at not duplicating efforts, at making sure that resources get to those that need them, that all the social justice agencies know about the resources.  I think of organizations like Second Harvest, groups that take food that would otherwise be thrown away (like barely out of date bakery items from grocery stores) and gets it to food banks and soup kitchens, where it can be used.

I wonder why we don't have an organization like that down here.  I wonder what it would take to create such a thing.

I think back to Paintner's conclusion:  "When I was in Ireland last year I visited the site of one of St. Brigid's holy wells. Pilgrims tie ribbons on the trees and prayers are left by pilgrims seeking solace and inspiration. It is incredibly moving to witness this gathering of prayers, this sacred site holding people's deepest desires. If you were to tie a ribbon to St. Brigid's tree, what prayers deep in your heart do you long to utter? What hopes do you carry for the season ahead?"

My prayer:  for days at work where I can point to concrete good I've done in the world (as opposed to days when I'm simply answering unimportant e-mail after unimportant e-mail).  My hope:  for the day (may it come soon!) when we don't have to worry about redistributing our food wealth, because everyone has enough and because technology has allowed us to more precisely predict our needs, so that we don't have as much that goes to waste.

Meditation on This Week's Gospel

The readings for Sunday, Feb. 5, 2012:

First Reading: Isaiah 40:21-31

Psalm: Psalm 147:1-12, 21c (Psalm 147:1-11, 20c NRSV)

Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 9:16-23

Gospel: Mark 1:29-39

Again we see Jesus early in his ministry, which at this point, seems to consist of healing and casting out demons. The issue of rest, or lack of it, speaks to me in the Gospel this week.

Notice that Jesus heals Simon's mother-in-law--and what is the first thing that she does? She gets up and serves them. Maybe she shows the appropriate response: what to do with a miraculous healing? Why, cook dinner, of course. But the story reminds me of many female friends I have who will get up from their sickbeds, even when they're burning with fever, to do things for the family, like cooking dinner or doing the laundry. What's behind this busyness?

Also this story faintly foreshadows the story of Mary and Martha. Martha can't stop her frantic rushing around, getting the meal ready. Mary takes time out of daily tasks to listen to Jesus.

Look at Jesus, later in the chapter. He's been on a whirlwind tour of preaching and healing. He gets up early in the morning, "a great while before day" (verse 35), and he retreats. He goes to a lonely place.

It's getting harder and harder to find lonely places. In graduate school, I used to get up at 4 in the morning to get some writing done--it was wonderful, because all the stores were closed at that hour, everyone slept, and because we couldn’t afford cable, there was nothing on TV--no distractions, in other words. I still often get up early to enjoy the lack of distraction.

We could learn a lot from Jesus--turn off the TV, don't answer the phone, disconnect from the Internet, stop our busy chasing after we don't even know what anymore. In short, we need to go to a lonely place.

Notice, too, that Jesus doesn't just flop on a rock and zone out. Jesus spends his down time praying. He uses this Sabbath Time to get in touch with God. We daydream about a lot of things to recharge our batteries: trips to a spa, a super vacation, early retirement. But the way Jesus shows us is simplicity incarnate.

God calls us to a servant's destiny. We are put on earth to be of service to others, doing the same things that Jesus did: preaching, feeding, teaching, healing. People who scoff at the idea of service often fail to understand what wonderful community can be formed during these times of service. Through our service and community building, we become more connected, which heals us—and the world—in all sorts of ways.

But God doesn't expect us to do these things without periods of rest. We need times of retreat, even if we can only schedule short times. We need times of prayer. We need time to listen for God, because the cries of the needy can drown out the still, small voice of God. We need time to refresh, and the easiest way to renew ourselves for the tasks ahead is to pray. The world, with all its aching yearning, will still be there after we emerge from our time of retreat.

Feast Day of St. Brigit

Today is the feast day of St. Brigit, one of the patron saints of Ireland.  She is one of the early Christians who stood at the intersection of Christianity, Druidism, and the other pagan religions of Ireland.  She is also one of those extraordinary women who did amazing things, despite the patriarchal culture in which she lived.

Like so many of our early Christian church mothers, she felt called by God from a very early age.  She resisted attempts to get her married:  one account has her scooping out her diseased eye in protest of an impending marriage--and later, healing her dangling eyeball by putting it back in her head.  When we go back to read about the lives of women in medieval times, it's amazing that more women didn't fight harder to go join the cloistered life.

St. Brigid founded some of the first Christian monasteries in Ireland, most famously the legendary one in Kildare.  She also founded a school of art that focuses on metal working and illumination.  The illustrated manuscript, the Book of Kildare, was created under her auspices.  Unfortunately, it's been lost since the Reformation, so we know it by its reputation only.

She's also famous for her generosity, especially to the poor.  She showed this compassion early on, giving away all of her mother's butter to a poor person--and then, by her prayers, the butter was restored.

As a 21st century woman, I'm amazed at what she was able to accomplish, during times that are much more difficult than mine.  Founding numerous religious orders, motivating artists, compassion to the poor, devotion to God--she seemed to have had no trouble leading an authentic, integrated life.  Why does it seem so hard to me?

Of course, I know Brigid across a space of centuries, through the gauze of hagiography and legend.  If Brigid could speak, what would she say?   Would she tell us of the sleepless nights where she wondered how she was going to find enough food, enough contributions, to keep her religious orders afloat?  Would she bemoan all her administrative duties, which sucked away so much energy, when all she really wanted to do was to illuminate manuscripts?

What do our lives say about our beliefs?  If centuries from now, a middle-aged woman read about your life as you're living it, would she be inspired?  Are we leading authentic, integrated lives?  Are we building concrete institutions that will outlast us?  How do we want to be remembered?