The skin of Moses' face shone because he had been talking with God. -Exodus 34:29

Sunday, April 22, 2012

New Life



So, this morning in my sermon I talked about how Jesus had said to his disciples before his crucifixion that in a little while they would not see him anymore, but then in another little while they would see him again.  They didn't know what he meant, so he went on, telling them that they would soon come into a time of suffering, but that it wouldn't always be that way - it would be like a mother who knows her difficult hour has come and must endure great travail, but then afterward, no longer even remembers her anguish when the joy of a new life arrives.  He said, "You will have sorrow now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice and no one will take that joy from you."

As I was preaching those words, I was thinking about my nephew and his wife up in Massachusetts, whose baby was due on Thursday.  I hadn't heard any news yet, and I was wondering if things had moved into the travail stage yet - and was hoping that maybe they'd already come into the joy part.  After the service this morning I received word - little Eric arrived yesterday - strong and well and everyone is doing fine.  New Life!

It's a new life for his mother, no longer having to carry the baby inside her 24/7, but now needing to carry him in her arms and feed him every hour or two 24/7.  It's a whole new life for his big sister who will have to adjust from being the only one to being the older one.  It's a new life for my nephew, now having both a daughter and a son to love, care for and play with.  And it's certainly a new life for Eric.  I wish I could remember what it felt like to take my first breath and meet my life on earth for the first time!  I'm sure it was quite a shock in some ways.  But at the same time, arriving into my mother's arms for the first time must have been a wonderful moment.

Like all human lives, I know already that Eric's life will have its share of anguish and travail.  And although we are offered new life every day, that doesn't mean our lives won't include both sorrows and joys.  As my new little great nephew's family moves into their new life together today, my prayer for them is this: Trust God in everything, and stay as close to God as you can every moment.  You never know what a day will bring, but whatever it brings, trusting and relying on God brings a joy that no one will be able to take from you.

Blessings upon you, little Eric.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Resurrection


There’s way more to resurrection than just maybe heaven someday.

Resurrection asks me questions:

How will I live a resurrected life?
How will I choose to greet people?
What will I make time for in my day?
What will I allow to fill my day and my mind and my heart?

Will I respond to life out of gratefulness
or remain blocked by resentments?

Will I notice the sometimes subtle
but life giving gifts that are mine every day?
Or will I only notice what I had when it's gone?

I wake up in the morning, resurrected 
After the death of sleep I am given a new day.

With each inhale, I am resurrected
After the death of an exhale, new life enters.

A friend and I reconnect, resurrected
After the death of misunderstanding, new love is found.

I sit down in the quiet to pray, resurrected
After the death of losing my center, new peace.

All day long, every day, I am invited into resurrection.

There’s way more to it than just maybe heaven someday.

Every moment is an invitation into new life.


Into resurrection.



Saturday, April 7, 2012

Good Friday


My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?
Jesus has been there.  Jesus knows
My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?

My God, My God, why did that test come back positive?
My God, My God, Why can’t I seem to make my life work?
My God, My God, why is my daughter on drugs?
My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?

My God, My God, why does he hit me?
My God, My God, why can’t I find another job?
My God, My God, why can’t I stop drinking?
My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?

My God, My God, Why don’t my children call me anymore?
My God, My God, Why am I losing control of my life?
My God, My God, why did she have to die?
My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?

Jesus has been there.  Jesus knows
My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?

God - in God’s own self –
knows that in our places of deepest grief and deepest despair,
we get no satisfactory response to our desperate why’s –
there is only the painful silence.
My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?

But because God – in God’s own self – has been there and knows
We are assured that no matter where we find ourselves
Even at the lowest, darkest, deepest rock bottom,
we are never alone.

Jesus is there with us.
Because Jesus knows.


Monday, April 2, 2012

Spaciousness



It probably comes as no surprise to anyone at all familiar with the Episcopal Church that Holy Week is the busiest week of a parish priest's year.  There are five significant services this week - and they are all unusual, once-a-year events that take more planning than usual.  This year at Grace we're having a vigil service - the first vigil that we've had here in a very long time.  The vigil is a fancy and complicated service with all kinds of extras - a bonfire, candles, incense, chanting, lots of different readers, baptisms - the bishop is even coming to celebrate the service with us this year, along with our neighboring clergy.  It is the first vigil I have planned myself and I have been overwhelmed by all the details.  I have been in a bit of a panic, to tell the truth.

Today I finally put the finishing touches on all the ends I considered to be loose around this big service in my own mind, and I feel much better.  And the calm that has come over me has been a reall gift.  Because now I feel ready to travel through Holy Week in a way that I am open to receiving - not just giving.  I don't think it's only priests that can fall into the trap of managing their work, or their lives, in such a way that you become separated from it - almost as if you're watching yourself and what you are doing instead of actually being present and participating in it.  Have you ever had that feeling in your life or work?  I have, and of all weeks, Holy Week is not the week I want to feel that way.

Because the truth is - Holy Week is not primarily the busiest week of the year.  It is the holiest week of the year.  It can be a spiritual portal into new life - if I allow God to work in me.  Why would I want to be preoccupied with what I think my work is when God wants to work through me?  All the preparations we do at a church for Holy Week are not for ourselves.  They are for God.  And God is for us.  So really - what is there to worry about?

So I am glad I was able to get enough details settled today to allow myself the peace and the space to be able to receive - to listen - to rest - to contemplate - to hope - as this week progresses.  I pray the same spaciousness for you. 

If you'd like to experience the beauty of our Holy Week liturgies, you can find the schedule here:

http://gracetrumbull.org/templates/System/details.asp?id=47651&PID=767044

Thursday, March 22, 2012

On a Day Late in Lent


Spring officially arrived two days ago, but this year it has felt like spring for a while already.  This picture of our intrepid concrete-defying daffodils was taken two years ago - on about April 16.  This picture proves how early spring is this year because the flowers look like this today on March 22.

A few years ago Steve and I were in San Francisco in early March.  The flowers were blooming, the fields were bright green and the farmer's markets were overflowing with local produce.  We'd flown out from JFK in some pretty dismal winter weather, so the contrast was striking.  My first reaction was to be uncomfortable with it.  "This is not very Lenten!" 

You see, I have lived in New England all my life and I have become accustomed to how Lent falls in the gray and chilly time of year - the time of year when the snow has gotten hard and dirty and the sidewalks are gritty and things just look - well - dead.  When the first crocuses finally start to come out - sometimes up through a late snowcover - and the soft green grass begins to bring life back into the gray landscape it gives Easter an added layer of meaning. 

So while I've enjoyed the beautiful weather lately, I realize I've also been feeling a bit cheated out of the yucky late winter weather that makes the spring so sweet in comparison and gives Easter a literal new life feeling.  And because of this, I can sometimes be a bit like the Lenten version of Ebineezer Scrooge or something. Spring? Sunshine? Daffodils? Bah Humbug!

What is wrong with that picture?  Today it's 75 degrees and sunny with a gentle breeze and I'm sitting in my office resenting it?  So at about 4 this afternoon, I realized I was nursing a stupid resentment and I went outside, took off my shoes and sat on a bench and enjoyed sitting in the sun.  They say it's going to get cooler again soon.  So I'm going to enjoy this day while I can and practice some gratefulness for small things. 

Yet, to add another layer to this onion, there is something very Lenten still at work here.  One of the reasons I know I have a Scrooge-like attitude toward this warm weather is because I know that the bigger picture of this lovely day includes the reality of an overall change in climate and the ominous environmental implications it reveals.  I've noticed many people's discomfort with this obviously drastic change in the weather, and it seems that we all feel powerless to do much about it.  So we say things like, "What a beautiful day!" but then kind of shrug and say, "It's so strange, isn't it?   Weird.  Almost unsettling."  We are hovering on the edge of acknowledging that the root cause of this early spring is perhaps the result of a collective character defect of our society - of our wastefulness as Americans and our disregard for the planet. 

There's a nice prayer in the prayer book.  I think it expresses the better intent of those Biblical words, "dominion over," which has always given me some measure of discomfort. 

Almighty God, in giving us dominion over things on earth,
you made us fellow workers in your creation:
Give us wisdomand reverence so to use the resources of nature,
that no onemay suffer from our abuse of them,
and that generations yet to come
may continue to praise you for your bounty;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

I guess that through pondering all this, I'm coming up with a new way to describe what Lent is all about.  It's a time when we intentionally invite our discomforts to lead to more than just resentments or denial.  It's a time when we have a chance to allow our discomforts (and life gives us no shortage of those...) to lead us to a deeper discovery of God's will for us.  May you have a blessed Lent which brings you deep into the heart of God and prepares you for a new and transformed life this Easter.