The Feast Day of Saint Luke

On October 18, we celebrate the life of St. Luke, an evangelist and a doctor, or perhaps a healer would be a more accurate way of thinking about the ancient approach to medical care.

But St. Luke was so much more: he’s also the patron saint of artists, students, and butchers. He’s given credit as one of the founders of iconography. And of course, he was a writer--both of one of the Gospels and the book of Acts. As we think about the life of St. Luke, let us use his life as a guide for how we can bring ourselves back to health and wholeness.

The feast day of St. Luke offers us a reason to evaluate our own health—why wait until the more traditional time of the new year like the start of a new year? Using St. Luke as our inspiration, let’s think about the ways we can promote health of all kinds.

Do we need to schedule some check-ups? October is perhaps most famous for breast cancer awareness month, but there are other doctors that many of us should see on a regular basis. For example, if you get a lot of sun exposure, or if you live in southern states, you should get a baseline check up from your dermatologist. If we've put off medical care because the nation is in the grip of a pandemic, this feast day is a good opportunity to think about how to get that health care safely. The pandemic will be here for awhile, so let's not delay any longer, if we need professional care for our physical selves.

Many of us don’t need to visit a doctor to find out what we can do to promote better health for ourselves. We can eat more fruits and vegetables. We can drink less alcohol. We can get more sleep. We can exercise and stretch more.

Maybe we need to look to our mental or spiritual health. If so, Luke can show us the way again.

Luke is famous as the writer of the Gospel of Luke and Acts, but it’s important to realize that he likely didn’t see himself as writing straight history. He was maintaining a record of amazing events that showed evidence of God’s salvation.

It’s far too easy to ignore evidence of God’s presence in the world. We get bogged down in our own disappointments and our deeper depressions. But we could follow the example of Luke and write down events that we see in our own lives and the life of our churches that remind us of God’s grace. Even if it’s a practice as simple as a gratitude journal where each day we write down several things for which we’re grateful, we can write our way back to right thinking.

As we think about St. Luke, we can look for ways to deepen our spiritual health. In popular imagination, Luke gets credit for creating the first icon of the Virgin Mary. Maybe it’s time for us to try something new.

We could experiment with the visual arts to see how they could enrich our spiritual health. We might choose something historical and traditional, like iconography. Or we might decide that we want to experiment with something that requires less concentration and training. Maybe we want to create a collage of images that remind us of God’s abundance. Maybe we want to meditate on images, like icons, like photographs, that call us to healthy living.

St. Luke knew that there are many paths to health of all sorts. Now, on his feast day, let us resolve to spend the coming year following his example and restoring our lives to a place of better health.

Female Leadership: The National Council of Churches

I noticed this news story yesterday but didn't have time to write about it here.  For the first time, the leadership of the National Council of Churches has all female leadership.  The ecumenical group is now led by Bishop Teresa Jefferson-Snorton, "leader of the Fifth Episcopal District of the Christian Methodist Episcopal Church." These women were also elected:  "the Rev. Elizabeth Eaton, presiding bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, who is vice chair; Kimberly Gordon Brooks, first vice president of the 3rd District Lay Organization, African Methodist Episcopal Church, who is secretary; and the Rev. Teresa “Terri” Hord Owens, general minister and president, Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), who is treasurer."

I am intrigued by the diversity of Protestant faith traditions represented here.  Sure, it could be even more diverse, but this start is a good one.  The article notes this fact too:  "All but Eaton are women of color."  

The article states, "The 38 member denominations of the NCC comprise some 35 million Christians in Protestant, Orthodox, Anglican, evangelical and historic Black denominations and 'peace churches.'”  So the fact that the leadership is now led by women, most of the women of color, is no small thing.

I have spent much of my life declaring that if women were in charge (at home, in the workplace, of the government, of any other institution), the world would change dramatically, and for the better.  I hope that I have been correct.

Beyond God the Patriarch

 In my Hebrew Bible class, we've just finished Genesis (we're reading the Hebrew Bible, but not reading the Bible in the Hebrew language).  Our discussion thread prompt has prompted me to keep thinking.  Here's the prompt:  "What/who was Jacob wrestling with at the Jabbok River? Please make reference to the assigned readings and videos in your post. In your relationship with God, do you tend to wrestle like Jacob or quietly accept? Why?"

As I thought about the question, I realized that I don't see my relationship with God in either of those ways.  I don't feel like I wrestle or quietly accept.  I don't see God that way at all.

I wrote a longer discussion post, but I don't want to paste it here, because my work hasn't been graded yet.  I don't want the anti-plagiarism software to flag my work, which it might, if it finds something similar out there, even if the something similar is my own work.

Yesterday morning, I woke up thinking about how many of our stories in the Bible have the hero, usually male, wrestling with God.  There's Jacob, the obvious choice.  Others come to mind:  Moses, various prophets, Job, Paul.  How many chosen ones quietly accept?  We might list Mary, the mother of Jesus.  The quiet accepters don't command our attention in the same way; it's not the same kind of compelling story.

Yesterday morning I was wishing that I had a friend who was a rabbi who could meet me for coffee and analyze this pattern.  I'd like to get a Jewish take on these stories, from someone who's been trained in theology.  I have a sudden vision of a book club, one with people theologically trained in different traditions.  I would never want to leave that coffee shop!

What if we had a different story about God?  What if we saw God as the best kind of boss, the kind who knows how to bring out our best qualities?  What if we saw God as the best kind of teacher, the one with skills that we didn't even know we needed, until we were taught them?  What if we saw God as the patient, kind, and wise type of animal trainer, the one who knows how to help us move beyond our fears?

I thought about how our societies might have been so different if we had these kinds of different theology.  It's too late to change the past--can we change the future by adopting a different theology?

Meditation on This Sunday's Gospel

The readings for Sunday, October 17, 2021:

Isaiah 53:4-12

Psalm 91:9-16

You have made the LORD your refuge, and the Most High your habitation. (Ps. 91:9)

Hebrews 5:1-10

Mark 10:35-45


Imagine being one of the 12 disciples; imagine the possible rivalries. Every so often, as with this Sunday’s Gospel, we see the very human side of the disciples.

Most of us, from the time we are little children, we want to be loved best in all the world. Unfortunately, many events happen to convince us that love is rare, and that if one person is loved, it means we must be loved less. Humans tend to see love as finite and to feel like there’s not enough to go around.

If Jesus was a different kind of leader, he might have decided to pit the disciples against each other, so that he could feed his own ego watching them compete for his favor. Those of you from dysfunctional families or Machiavellian workplaces have probably seen this technique in use. Sadly, it's not uncommon at all.

Happily, we don’t worship that kind of God. We might expect Jesus to be a leader of comfort and compassion. We might expect Jesus to figure out a way to respond so that everyone gets to feel good about themselves and be assured that Jesus loves them all exactly the same.

We don’t worship that kind of God either. We may behave like three year olds, but Jesus treats his disciples like the grown ups he expects them to be.

Jesus reminds them that they don’t know what they’re asking. Again and again, Jesus tells his disciples, and centuries of believers to come, that the last will be first. Again and again, Jesus stresses that we're here to serve. Following Jesus isn't about self-empowerment. We don't follow Jesus because we hope to become rich. Other religions, like Capitalism, might make that promise, but not Christianity. Christianity is NOT just a big self-improvement program.

Sure, we might become better people, but not by the route that the larger world offers us. Christ tells us that we fulfill our destiny by serving others. It goes against most everything else we've ever learned. We're not supposed to look out for number one? We're not supposed to be most concerned about ourselves and our families? No, we're not.

You might feel as much despair over the need to have a servant’s heart as you did by last Sunday’s Gospel about giving away all our wealth. But here again, we can change our trajectory by taking small steps.  The ways to serve are as varied as humans themselves.  Ask God to show you how to have a servant's heart.  Be on the lookout for how God responds.

Who knows where this path may lead? But we know that Christ calls us to follow it. By imitating Christ, we can change ourselves, and in the process, we can change the world.

Meditation on This Sunday's Readings in "A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church"

The readings for Sunday, Oct. 17, 2021:

2 Samuel 21:  1-14

Psalm 58

Revelation 6:  9-11

Luke 6:  43-45

This Sunday, we hear Jesus talk about fruit, about how we'll be known by our fruit.  Good trees bear good fruit, while thorns will never be mistaken for good fruit.  This Gospel may make us feel resignation and/or despair.

Those of us who are perfectionists and/or judgmental may never feel that we're seeing good fruit in ourselves or anyone else.  Happily, God is not as harsh as our harshest critics.  Those of us who have made bad choices may feel like this passage dooms us to the world of thornbushes forever so why bother?  But if we've been in church any amount of time at all, we know that's not God's larger message either.

This week I'm thinking of a lecture in one of my seminary classes.  My professor  Dr. Emily Peck-McClain got my attention by declaring her love for Paul and calling Paul a gift to us with a liberative message that is not often proclaimed.  She called our attention to Galatians 5, which also has a fruit metaphor; it's the passage that talks about the fruits of the spirit, and it makes a good counterpoint to this Gospel.

Paul gives us the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. My professor reminds us that Paul is writing to communities, not to individuals. The fruit of the Spirit is born and comes to fruition in community.

The good news is that we don't have to produce all of these fruits all by ourselves. When the whole community is together, these are the fruits that we see. We are intended to have all of these fruits together communally. And then we are equipped to carry on the redemptive work of Christ in the world.

What a beautiful vision:  all of us as individual fruit trees, making a beautiful orchard together. It's that time of year when I'm yearning for apple orchards and pumpkin patches. As many of us enjoy the fruits of the season, let us think about the fruits of the spirit and how we make more of them manifest, both in ourselves and in each other.

Divine Arms, Divine Assistance

For the past few weeks, I occasionally see a man walking his dog.  He's walking two dogs, in a way.  He holds an older dog cradled in one arm, while holding the leash of the other dog.  When he gets to a patch of grass, he puts the older dog down so that she go to the bathroom, and then he picks her back up again.  

I spoke to him briefly one morning, which is how I know the dog is female and 18 years old.  I told that man that it made me happy to see him taking such good care of his dog, and he shrugged off my praise.  

As I've watched the man care for his two dogs, I've thought of that care as a way of understanding how God cares for creation.  While I want to believe in a God that gives us everything we want and need, if we just pray hard enough or do the right kind of visioning exercises, I can't really make that idea work and still believe in free will.  While I want to believe in a God that can swoop in and make things right, erase years/decades of bad behavior/choices, I really have a hard time making a case for the existence of that kind of God.

Do I believe that God can undo the rules that God made for this creation?  It depends on the day that you ask me.

I do believe in a God who does not abandon us, no matter the bad choices we've made or the toll that the years have taken.  I believe in a God who will hold us in Divine arms, when we are old and/or broken.  I believe in a God who cleans up after us.

And of course, God is also there when we're not broken.  God is there when we're vigorous.  But sadly, my experience has shown that many of us can't let God hold us or assist us until we're in desperate need of that assistance.

Imagine how our lives would be if we sought that Divine partnership earlier.

Discussion Threads and Classroom Discussions

 hen it comes to online classes and discussion threads, we often say that a good discussion thread mimics the kind of conversations we would have had in a face to face classroom.  But having experienced online classes as a seminary student, I've begun to think that a good discussion thread is actually better than most face to face class discussions.

I have been part of in person class discussions, both as a teacher and as a student, that were truly glorious:  full of points none of us would have developed on our own, full of eye opening moments, full of wonder.  But I've been part of many more that were not like that.

As a seminary student, I've been enjoying creating my own discussion posts, and those short pieces of writing have helped me engage with various texts far more deeply than if all I had to do was show up to an in person class.  I've enjoyed reading the thoughts of my classmates.  Even more, I've enjoyed virtual class lectures that weren't interrupted by shallow thoughts, as so many were in my graduate studies back when I was earning an MA and a PhD in English.

It's time to start thinking about the classes that I will take next term, and given the huge uncertainties, I'm planning to take the second half of the classes that I'm currently taking, and to take them in their online/virtual formats.  I am surprised to find that I like this delivery system so much.  I also know that much of the success of the classes is because of the professors, so I'm happy to stick with these professors for another term.

Eventually I hope to do at least a year on campus, in a more traditional format.  But this year, Wesley Theological Seminary is offering very few classes in person, in that traditional format.  It will be interesting to see how these years of pandemic instruction have changed education forever.