Chapter One--Reply to Comments and More
Initial Kudos! We had three comments to Chapter One. One from our friend Lucy in South Africa and two from Memorialites Mary Jo and Alice B. Well Done! I know that it can be hard to figure out how to comment on line. The best way is to go to my blog OFF the memorial website. Log into mmmeditation on blogger.com. Go down to the comment pencil and click. Other comments will come up and at the end of those comments is a space for you to post your comments. Give it a try! If it is frustrating (which I know it is), just e-mail at mmacgill@memorialepiscopal.com. I'll include your comments in my reply...and if I don't get too frustrated, will try to figure out how to post them. Now, on to Ephesians!
Comments on Chapter One: Our writers noted the long sentences in Ephesians and the great list of blessings. Our commenters also noted trust as being a response to the love of God. Moreover, they wondered about the concept of church in Ephesians. I have three points in reply.
First, the writer of Ephesians (whether Paul or a follower of Paul) was of a Jewish background living in a Hellenistic world. Chapter One follows a very Jewish spirituality. In her book Spiritual Life in the Early Church: The Witness of Acts and Ephesians, Bonnie Thurston notes scholar Urban T. Holmes' view that there are three primary images in Jewish belief and practice at this time: da'ath, shekinah, and berakah. (p. 9) These three images are found in the very first chapter of Ephesians. Da'ath is "knowledge that takes possession of the person known." Shekinah is "the dwelling of God with God's people." Shekinah is present not only in the Temple but in the midst of several people when they gather together to study Torah. Finally, berakah is blessing or thanksgiving. It is "the characteristic response to God and involves blessing God's name and being thankful for all God has done."
Now, give a look to Chapter One of Ephesians. All three images are present--reworked by Paul to include the Christian witness and a Hellenistic audience. Da'ath is found in the sense that God takes possession of us in Christ. Verse 5: "He(God) destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will." Verse 10: "as a plan, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and on earth." Shekinah is manifest in Paul's view that when the people gather in faith God gives them the spirit of wisdom and revelation. That in community "the eyes of your heart" are "enlightened," that "you may know what is the hope to which he has called you." (verse 18). Of course, as many of you have noted, the concept of berakah literally permeates chapter one....blessing upon blessings.
So, first, Paul's writing takes a very Jewish spirituality--and is reworked for the Christian church in a Hellensitic setting.
Second, the concept of church. In response to Chapter Two, I will go into more detail with this in my comments at the end of this week. Two points for now: (1) Paul's concept of "church" in Ephesians is a church that is more than a congregation in one place. The church is more than a temple in Jerusalem. The church is a cosmic church--and church that breaks the bonds of what Jews or Greeks have thought about church. (2) Ephesus was the center of the cult of Artemis as well as a center for magical powers. The writer of the Letter to the Ephesians was grappling with these powerful influences.
Third, in the end, I find Chapter One a stirring spiritual encouragement to those separated from ones that they love. Whether Paul was actually in prison when he wrote this letter, verses 15-19 truly sustained me when I was in South Africa and feeling separated from family and friends back home. The power of knowing that folks were praying for you from across the world was palpable and real. You can feel it! I also learned during my time in South Africa that the very same power was right by my side as I began to pray weekly with my lay ministers (Lucy included) on Monday nights in the church. As we gathered together in St Francis in Walkerville, God's Spirit was with us--the eyes of our hearts were opened again and again. The famous Prayer of St Crystostom in the Book of Common Prayer reflects this: "when two or three are gathered together in my name, you will be in the midst of them." This concept of prayer and blessing is especially important when we are separated from someone we love who is in crisis---whether in the hospital away from home or across the globe. It is also helpful for those of us who want to pray for those we don't know in a hard time---like the people of Haiti. The power of coming together to pray with others in faith and with love for the saints is one of the most powerful tools we have in this world. So pray away!
Assignment for this week: Read Chapter Two as you read Chapter One. What grabs you? What makes you wonder? Is there a time in your life when you felt dead through sin and came alive again?
Monday, January 25, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Ephesians Online---Chapter One
Welcome to the Ephesians Online Course!
This is the first time I've tried an online course at Memorial....so we are all part of a great experiment. My first blog of the New Year gives you some ideas of why I love the Letter to the Ephesians (see my post immediately before this one). Now comes the time to dig into the text. Here are some initial comments about how I am approaching the course.
Getting started with Paul: This will be a six-week course. There will be THREE segments to each weekly class. FIRST, each Monday, I will post an initial assignment for the week. The assignment will include (1) reading from the Letter to the Ephesians; (2) Some preliminary comments by me; and (3) some questions to mull over. THEN comes the SECOND interactive phase. This phase is important and involves your input and comments. As you read and mull over the assignment, I humbly invite your comments on the readings and questions. What strikes you about the reading? Where do you have immediate (even visceral) positive or negative reactions? What do you wonder about Paul, the community he writes to, and the utility of this piece of scripture to your everyday faith. On FRIDAY, the third phase happens. I will take the comments for the week and write my own response. That response will probably include research on Paul and the community of Ephesus, the historical context of the times, what scholars have said, and just general ruminations from me. At the end of the course, I hope that we can gather in person for coffee or tea (and maybe host a local New Testament scholar) to put a capstone on our time together. If this proves to be a popular idea, we can choose another topic for Lent. So here we go with our first assignment.
Week of 2 Epiphany beginning January 18, 2010:
Assignment: (1)Read Chapter One of Paul's Letter to the Ephesians. The Letter comes after Galatians and before Philippians in the New Testament. I would suggest a form of lectio divina type of reading. First, make sure you have some time of quiet without distractions--early morning or late evening are often best. Read Ephesians through once. Then, read Ephesians OUTLOUD slowly. Keep pen and paper nearby and after you have read the text outloud, make notes about what words and phrases struck you. Now think about the passage in relation to my following comments and questions.
(2) Martha's comments: Chapter One of Ephesians takes on a common Pauline formula: Salutation/Greeting in verses 1:1-2, Thanksgiving of Blessings--to God(verses 3-14) and to the hearers of the Letter (15-22). One of the hallmarks of Paul is his concept of faith as a response made in trust. The greek word he uses for this response is pistis. Pistis is usually translated as "faith" but also "trust". According to Paul, the gospel message must be heard and heeded in trust and faith. According to scholar Leander Keck:
When Paul understands faith as obedience, he does not regard the gospel as command. Rather, it is a message that makes a claim on the hearer, one which calls for a response that has a moral quality to it, not merely an intellectual assent....It energizes the will no less than the mind and feelings; trust is a response of the whole self. When that response is to a word that makes a claim on the hearer, that response can be called obedience....To trust is to commit oneself...The more radical the message, the deeper the response. In fact, who we are is determined by whom and what we trust (or distrust), by what we count on. (Keck, Paul and His Letters, Proclamation Commentaries, Gerhard Krodel, editor, pp. 51-52)
In verses 15ff., Paul commends the people in Ephesus (or the churches in Asia Minor where the letter was circulated) for their faith in the Lord Jesus and their love towards all the saints. They are commended for their response. This is the part of the letter that grabs me again and again.
Questions: (1) What part of Chapter One of the Letter to the Ephesians grabbed you? That made you sit up and notice? If you were in a home church in Ephesus listening to this letter being read, what would you take away? Or had Paul lost you when he started in on adoption and redemption?
(2)Where does trust figure into your faith life? In what do you absolutely trust in this life?
I'll be watching for comments on this blog all through the week. You can also e-mail at mmacgill@memorialepiscopal.org. It works best if we all post our comments on this blog so, like in a face-to-face class, we can benefit from everyone's comments. Grace and peace, Martha+
This is the first time I've tried an online course at Memorial....so we are all part of a great experiment. My first blog of the New Year gives you some ideas of why I love the Letter to the Ephesians (see my post immediately before this one). Now comes the time to dig into the text. Here are some initial comments about how I am approaching the course.
Getting started with Paul: This will be a six-week course. There will be THREE segments to each weekly class. FIRST, each Monday, I will post an initial assignment for the week. The assignment will include (1) reading from the Letter to the Ephesians; (2) Some preliminary comments by me; and (3) some questions to mull over. THEN comes the SECOND interactive phase. This phase is important and involves your input and comments. As you read and mull over the assignment, I humbly invite your comments on the readings and questions. What strikes you about the reading? Where do you have immediate (even visceral) positive or negative reactions? What do you wonder about Paul, the community he writes to, and the utility of this piece of scripture to your everyday faith. On FRIDAY, the third phase happens. I will take the comments for the week and write my own response. That response will probably include research on Paul and the community of Ephesus, the historical context of the times, what scholars have said, and just general ruminations from me. At the end of the course, I hope that we can gather in person for coffee or tea (and maybe host a local New Testament scholar) to put a capstone on our time together. If this proves to be a popular idea, we can choose another topic for Lent. So here we go with our first assignment.
Week of 2 Epiphany beginning January 18, 2010:
Assignment: (1)Read Chapter One of Paul's Letter to the Ephesians. The Letter comes after Galatians and before Philippians in the New Testament. I would suggest a form of lectio divina type of reading. First, make sure you have some time of quiet without distractions--early morning or late evening are often best. Read Ephesians through once. Then, read Ephesians OUTLOUD slowly. Keep pen and paper nearby and after you have read the text outloud, make notes about what words and phrases struck you. Now think about the passage in relation to my following comments and questions.
(2) Martha's comments: Chapter One of Ephesians takes on a common Pauline formula: Salutation/Greeting in verses 1:1-2, Thanksgiving of Blessings--to God(verses 3-14) and to the hearers of the Letter (15-22). One of the hallmarks of Paul is his concept of faith as a response made in trust. The greek word he uses for this response is pistis. Pistis is usually translated as "faith" but also "trust". According to Paul, the gospel message must be heard and heeded in trust and faith. According to scholar Leander Keck:
When Paul understands faith as obedience, he does not regard the gospel as command. Rather, it is a message that makes a claim on the hearer, one which calls for a response that has a moral quality to it, not merely an intellectual assent....It energizes the will no less than the mind and feelings; trust is a response of the whole self. When that response is to a word that makes a claim on the hearer, that response can be called obedience....To trust is to commit oneself...The more radical the message, the deeper the response. In fact, who we are is determined by whom and what we trust (or distrust), by what we count on. (Keck, Paul and His Letters, Proclamation Commentaries, Gerhard Krodel, editor, pp. 51-52)
In verses 15ff., Paul commends the people in Ephesus (or the churches in Asia Minor where the letter was circulated) for their faith in the Lord Jesus and their love towards all the saints. They are commended for their response. This is the part of the letter that grabs me again and again.
Questions: (1) What part of Chapter One of the Letter to the Ephesians grabbed you? That made you sit up and notice? If you were in a home church in Ephesus listening to this letter being read, what would you take away? Or had Paul lost you when he started in on adoption and redemption?
(2)Where does trust figure into your faith life? In what do you absolutely trust in this life?
I'll be watching for comments on this blog all through the week. You can also e-mail at mmacgill@memorialepiscopal.org. It works best if we all post our comments on this blog so, like in a face-to-face class, we can benefit from everyone's comments. Grace and peace, Martha+
Monday, January 4, 2010
New Year with Apostle Paul and the Ephesians
Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God. To the saints who are in Ephesus and are faithful in Christ Jesus: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. The Letter of Paul to the Ephesians 1:1-2
And so it begins. Paul, the sometimes cantakerous and always wordy fellow, begins his letter to the Christian church in Ephesus. I've always loved this letter. Our Episcopal lectionary brings the Letter of Ephesians to our Sunday consciousness at Epiphany. It is a letter that brings tidings of hope and celebration.
Scholars are divided as to the authorship of the Letter to the Ephesians. Was it Paul himself who wrote the letter or one of his followers? Ephesians is regarded as a "circular letter" that was not written specifically for the church in Ephesus, but distributed to the churches in Asia Minor. There are significant differences in the writing style and content within the Letter to the Ephesians from works attributed definitively to Paul. Such differences lead scholars to believe that the letter was written by a follower of Paul...someone who had access to Paul's correspondence. If that is the case, so be it. Yet, something in me likes to think that Paul was the author of this letter---at least, the author of the original draft of the letter. For scholars do think, that if Paul did write the letter, he did so at the end of his life while he was in prison.
As one reads the Letter to the Ephesians, the hope and celebration leap off the page---and this is even more palpable when one considers that Paul is writing these words in a jail cell at the end of his life. I find that the Letter to the Ephesians speaks to me when I am particularly feeling in a prison of sorts--often a prison of my own devising. The letter speaks to me when I find myself stuck in some way.
As we begin the New Year 2010 together, I'd like to use the Letter to the Ephesians as a scriptural text for our wondering about hope and celebration in a difficult time. I hope you'll join me in this journey. Add your comments if so moved. Or just come along as you are able. Grace to you and Peace. Martha+
And so it begins. Paul, the sometimes cantakerous and always wordy fellow, begins his letter to the Christian church in Ephesus. I've always loved this letter. Our Episcopal lectionary brings the Letter of Ephesians to our Sunday consciousness at Epiphany. It is a letter that brings tidings of hope and celebration.
Scholars are divided as to the authorship of the Letter to the Ephesians. Was it Paul himself who wrote the letter or one of his followers? Ephesians is regarded as a "circular letter" that was not written specifically for the church in Ephesus, but distributed to the churches in Asia Minor. There are significant differences in the writing style and content within the Letter to the Ephesians from works attributed definitively to Paul. Such differences lead scholars to believe that the letter was written by a follower of Paul...someone who had access to Paul's correspondence. If that is the case, so be it. Yet, something in me likes to think that Paul was the author of this letter---at least, the author of the original draft of the letter. For scholars do think, that if Paul did write the letter, he did so at the end of his life while he was in prison.
As one reads the Letter to the Ephesians, the hope and celebration leap off the page---and this is even more palpable when one considers that Paul is writing these words in a jail cell at the end of his life. I find that the Letter to the Ephesians speaks to me when I am particularly feeling in a prison of sorts--often a prison of my own devising. The letter speaks to me when I find myself stuck in some way.
As we begin the New Year 2010 together, I'd like to use the Letter to the Ephesians as a scriptural text for our wondering about hope and celebration in a difficult time. I hope you'll join me in this journey. Add your comments if so moved. Or just come along as you are able. Grace to you and Peace. Martha+
Monday, December 7, 2009
Prepare the Way of the Lord
Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smother; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God. Luke 3:6
Time to prepare. That's what John the Baptist tells us.
Time to prepare for the season.
In my household as a child, we all knew that the big event of the season was the annual Christmas party at our home.
My parents’ Christmas party really.
I believe that everything from Thanksgiving on was aiming towards that night.
Our Christmas party was a trim-the-tree party.
The Christmas tree appeared sometime the week before the party in our enclosed porch.
Lights were strung.
But no ornaments.
The ornaments would come on the night of the party.
Guests would bring a handmade ornament for the tree.
The next day we would add our own.
As a child, it seemed that the party was little about the tree.
Since, as usual, I was the only child at the party, I got to observe the adult behavior.
There never seemed to be any people around the tree—oohing and aahhing and admiring the twinkling sight and inhaling the pine scent.
There were two places the adults were.
Many were gathered around our dining room table to partake of the goodies.
There were the pigs in a blanket—little hot dogs in crescent rolls.
There was the turkey.
There was the Smithfield ham—ordered by my mother from her hometown and steeped and cooked in a magical concoction of brine for a few days before the party.
I tried to like the salty ham, but preferred to stay with pigs in a blanket.
I often hid under the dining room table with the dog during the party.
While the dog enjoyed the ham and turkey scraps falling from the table, I watched the shiny high heels and black wing-tips glide by.
But the main center of activity was the living room.
That was where the silver punch bowl resided.
And in the punch bowl was the infamous St Cecelia’s punch.
That was my father’s domain.
Like the Smithfield ham and the Christmas tree, St Cecelia’s punch was created over several days.
It consisted of slices of oranges, lemons and limes in a soup of many and varied liquors.
It would steep in the cold garage for a few days before the party.
My father would go out to the garage to observe and stir the punch.
That’s where all the adults congregated during the party.
As the conversation grew louder over the evening in the living room, I stayed by the tree---beholden by its bright lights and beauty.
As we grow older, we take on our own holiday traditions.
Ways of preparing for the season.
As I think back to my childhood, I wonder what would have happened if John the Baptist had appeared at our trim-the tree party.
I imagine him appearing in the middle of the gowned women and tuxedoed men—right by the punch bowl and St Cecelia’s punch.
What would he have said?
Would he have gotten in the front door?
How does John the Baptist enter our holiday preparations?
Does he enter at all?
Do we really want to hear a call to repentance at a time of year that evokes all sorts of tender memories. Tender and painful.
Folks we see no longer. Loneliness.
Parties are ways to combat these feelings. But all too often parties can be occasions to cover up our deepest feelings of the season.
In part, that’s why St Cecelia’s punch is a popular item.
I’m not here to call a halt to holiday parties.
I’m here to wonder today what a spiritual Advent preparation for Christmas might look like.
I hope that you'll join me at the annual Advent Lessons and Carols service at Memorial this coming Friday, December 11. We will gather for a light supper at 6:30 in the Parish Hall and then move to the church for the service at 7:30 pm. Candlelight will fill the church as we hear Advent lessons, sing Advent hymns and enjoy Advent anthems sung be the Memorial choir. Maybe in this time, we can begin to prepare for our spiritual journey in the new year. If you can't be here for this event, check out my blog later in the week. I'll suggest readings to share with a loved one or read by the fire in the days to come.
Time to prepare. That's what John the Baptist tells us.
Time to prepare for the season.
In my household as a child, we all knew that the big event of the season was the annual Christmas party at our home.
My parents’ Christmas party really.
I believe that everything from Thanksgiving on was aiming towards that night.
Our Christmas party was a trim-the-tree party.
The Christmas tree appeared sometime the week before the party in our enclosed porch.
Lights were strung.
But no ornaments.
The ornaments would come on the night of the party.
Guests would bring a handmade ornament for the tree.
The next day we would add our own.
As a child, it seemed that the party was little about the tree.
Since, as usual, I was the only child at the party, I got to observe the adult behavior.
There never seemed to be any people around the tree—oohing and aahhing and admiring the twinkling sight and inhaling the pine scent.
There were two places the adults were.
Many were gathered around our dining room table to partake of the goodies.
There were the pigs in a blanket—little hot dogs in crescent rolls.
There was the turkey.
There was the Smithfield ham—ordered by my mother from her hometown and steeped and cooked in a magical concoction of brine for a few days before the party.
I tried to like the salty ham, but preferred to stay with pigs in a blanket.
I often hid under the dining room table with the dog during the party.
While the dog enjoyed the ham and turkey scraps falling from the table, I watched the shiny high heels and black wing-tips glide by.
But the main center of activity was the living room.
That was where the silver punch bowl resided.
And in the punch bowl was the infamous St Cecelia’s punch.
That was my father’s domain.
Like the Smithfield ham and the Christmas tree, St Cecelia’s punch was created over several days.
It consisted of slices of oranges, lemons and limes in a soup of many and varied liquors.
It would steep in the cold garage for a few days before the party.
My father would go out to the garage to observe and stir the punch.
That’s where all the adults congregated during the party.
As the conversation grew louder over the evening in the living room, I stayed by the tree---beholden by its bright lights and beauty.
As we grow older, we take on our own holiday traditions.
Ways of preparing for the season.
As I think back to my childhood, I wonder what would have happened if John the Baptist had appeared at our trim-the tree party.
I imagine him appearing in the middle of the gowned women and tuxedoed men—right by the punch bowl and St Cecelia’s punch.
What would he have said?
Would he have gotten in the front door?
How does John the Baptist enter our holiday preparations?
Does he enter at all?
Do we really want to hear a call to repentance at a time of year that evokes all sorts of tender memories. Tender and painful.
Folks we see no longer. Loneliness.
Parties are ways to combat these feelings. But all too often parties can be occasions to cover up our deepest feelings of the season.
In part, that’s why St Cecelia’s punch is a popular item.
I’m not here to call a halt to holiday parties.
I’m here to wonder today what a spiritual Advent preparation for Christmas might look like.
I hope that you'll join me at the annual Advent Lessons and Carols service at Memorial this coming Friday, December 11. We will gather for a light supper at 6:30 in the Parish Hall and then move to the church for the service at 7:30 pm. Candlelight will fill the church as we hear Advent lessons, sing Advent hymns and enjoy Advent anthems sung be the Memorial choir. Maybe in this time, we can begin to prepare for our spiritual journey in the new year. If you can't be here for this event, check out my blog later in the week. I'll suggest readings to share with a loved one or read by the fire in the days to come.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Waiting--Not So easy
Monday, November 20, 2009
First Monday of Advent
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, "The Lord needs them." And he will send them immediately.
from Matthew 21:1-11, Daily Office, Year Two reading
In Advent, we begin another year of Daily Office readings. It seems a bit strange to begin with a scene more familiar to another part of the liturgical and calendar year--Palm Sunday and Spring. But as I read this selection from Matthew more closely, I believe that it does have quite a bit to do with the concept of Advent waiting.
One of my books for Advent pondering is The Meaning is in the Waiting by Paula Gooder (Paraclete Press, 2008). Here's a gem about how hard it is for us to wait---especially when there is a problem just waiting to be solved. Here's how Gooder puts it:
Imagine you have a broken washing machine. You call the washing machine repair service and wait, and wait, and wait, but no one comes. In your desperation, you get out the tool kit and attempt to solve the problem yourself. Now you may be a brilliant repairer of washing machines, but I know that I would end up with a pile of parts on the floor, no washing machine, and the need to go out and buy a new one." (Gooder, p. 34)
In our reading from Matthew, how did the disciples follow Jesus' instruction? If I were one of those disciples charged with finding the colt and donkey, I bet that if the donkey and colt didn't present themselves immediately, I would make my own plan to find a donkey and colt. One that I think would be easier, better, more efficient, faster.
One morning in South Africa, the children and I went out to the garage to get in the car to go to school. We piled in the car. I put the key in the ignition and turned the key. Nothing. Yes, you know that feeling. No sound. The battery was dead. My mind went into quick thinking mode. I wanted to get the children to school and then I had errands that I wanted to get done that day. I didn't want ot wait for a mechanic to bring a battery. So, I had a brainy idea. The car was perched in the garage at an elevated level. What if I pushed the car backwards in neutral until it hit the garage ramp---as it picked up speed--going backwards--I could jump it into gear. I'd seen it done going forward. Couldn't it work backwards? I told the children to Stand Back. I got in the car. I kept the driver's side door open a bit with one leg and foot out. I pushed with my outside foot against the concrete. The car started to move. Then it really started to move as it hit the garage ramp. WHAP! A horrible sound of crunching metal. Before I knew it, the car door had been pulled off its hinges. I was unable to close it as the car picked up speed as it passed the sides of the garage door. Luckily, I had gotten my leg inside the car or it might be dangling too. I somehow engaged the emergency brake. I looked around. Jack and Anna were staring at me, the car, the situation --dumbfounded. Finally, one of them said, "Oh-Oh, Mommy!"
Well, I had a lot of explaining to do since this was a church car. I was without a car for a week or two. Rather than wait for someone to come and replace the battery, I had made the situation much worse. Why couldn't I have waited for a morning? It's a good family story now. That morning, it wasn't very funny. My impatience got the best of me.
Waiting....it's hard for humans to do. What's your story of impatient problem solving gone wrong?
First Monday of Advent
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, "The Lord needs them." And he will send them immediately.
from Matthew 21:1-11, Daily Office, Year Two reading
In Advent, we begin another year of Daily Office readings. It seems a bit strange to begin with a scene more familiar to another part of the liturgical and calendar year--Palm Sunday and Spring. But as I read this selection from Matthew more closely, I believe that it does have quite a bit to do with the concept of Advent waiting.
One of my books for Advent pondering is The Meaning is in the Waiting by Paula Gooder (Paraclete Press, 2008). Here's a gem about how hard it is for us to wait---especially when there is a problem just waiting to be solved. Here's how Gooder puts it:
Imagine you have a broken washing machine. You call the washing machine repair service and wait, and wait, and wait, but no one comes. In your desperation, you get out the tool kit and attempt to solve the problem yourself. Now you may be a brilliant repairer of washing machines, but I know that I would end up with a pile of parts on the floor, no washing machine, and the need to go out and buy a new one." (Gooder, p. 34)
In our reading from Matthew, how did the disciples follow Jesus' instruction? If I were one of those disciples charged with finding the colt and donkey, I bet that if the donkey and colt didn't present themselves immediately, I would make my own plan to find a donkey and colt. One that I think would be easier, better, more efficient, faster.
One morning in South Africa, the children and I went out to the garage to get in the car to go to school. We piled in the car. I put the key in the ignition and turned the key. Nothing. Yes, you know that feeling. No sound. The battery was dead. My mind went into quick thinking mode. I wanted to get the children to school and then I had errands that I wanted to get done that day. I didn't want ot wait for a mechanic to bring a battery. So, I had a brainy idea. The car was perched in the garage at an elevated level. What if I pushed the car backwards in neutral until it hit the garage ramp---as it picked up speed--going backwards--I could jump it into gear. I'd seen it done going forward. Couldn't it work backwards? I told the children to Stand Back. I got in the car. I kept the driver's side door open a bit with one leg and foot out. I pushed with my outside foot against the concrete. The car started to move. Then it really started to move as it hit the garage ramp. WHAP! A horrible sound of crunching metal. Before I knew it, the car door had been pulled off its hinges. I was unable to close it as the car picked up speed as it passed the sides of the garage door. Luckily, I had gotten my leg inside the car or it might be dangling too. I somehow engaged the emergency brake. I looked around. Jack and Anna were staring at me, the car, the situation --dumbfounded. Finally, one of them said, "Oh-Oh, Mommy!"
Well, I had a lot of explaining to do since this was a church car. I was without a car for a week or two. Rather than wait for someone to come and replace the battery, I had made the situation much worse. Why couldn't I have waited for a morning? It's a good family story now. That morning, it wasn't very funny. My impatience got the best of me.
Waiting....it's hard for humans to do. What's your story of impatient problem solving gone wrong?
Monday, November 9, 2009
Leavetakings and New Beginnings
The fall seems have flown by and now we are almost at Thanksgiving! As I noted in my Monday meditation today (memorialepiscopal.org), this time of year truly marks the end of the year for me. Not only does the liturgical year--Advent--begin at the end of November, but the season of All Saints and Thanksgiving bring my attention to those I love and see no longer as well as the blessing of these departed loved ones in my life. My parents were born on November 6 and November 8. My son, who is now 21(!), was born on November 7. So, this time of year naturally reminds me of leavetakings and new beginnings.
As I pondered how it could be that it was 21 years ago that I was in the hospital wondering what labor and delivery was all about (and about to find out directly), I was brought back to pregnancy and delivery by our two Memorial couples who will be finding out directly about birth this month. On Sunday morning, I gave the parish cross to Tom and Erin who are expecting a baby this coming weekend. Sunday afternoon, I took communion to Liz and Steph. Liz hopes to have her son (to be named Henry Isaac!) over Thanksgiving (or sooner she says). My visit with Liz and Steph took me back 21 years to sleeping sitting up, eating Ben and Jerry's heath bar crunch ice cream a pint at at time, and raking leaves 9 months pregnant. Such feelings of excitement, anticipation and fear rolled into one.
At EFM class (Education for Ministry) last week, I presented a theological reflection on my son's leavetaking a few years ago to China. I've written about his coming home as part of my South Africa writings. Here is the excerpt.
The Art of Coming Home
It was the longest day of my life so far. Surely there have been many long hours and days. There was the day leading up to thyroid cancer surgery. There was Bryan’s prostate surgery this past February. But Wednesday, May 31, 2006 must have been the longest day of my life. My first born son, Jack, would arrive home from Beijing, China after an academic year away. He was to fly through 12 time zones and over Russia, the Bearing Strait, Alaska and then across the entire United States. I began to feel the dread of his journey on Monday. My stomach just didn’t feel right. That’s where it always begins. In the pit of my stomach. As I sat down to read the newspaper on Tuesday morning the phone rang. It was Jack. He was clearly anxious. He couldn’t get everything in his suitcase. He had to leave his sleeping bag behind. He had said goodbye to all his teachers. Now it was almost time to say goodbye to his Chinese mom and dad—who had loved and cared for him since he arrived last August. Parting was hard. His voice kept getting quieter. He said he didn’t feel well. He couldn’t breathe. Could I call him back? When I called back after an agonizing five minutes, he seemed better, but his voice still was weak. “Breathe, Bub,” I said, “Just breathe.” We started talking about the Orioles—how was the hometown baseball team doing? Not so well. The pitching stank. A laugh. Equilibrium was returning to his voice. After I hung up, I had to breathe---deep, long, slow breaths. My heart went out to my son. It is always hard saying goodbye to those you love. It is particularly hard saying goodbye to friends and family who live far away---even after only a few short months.
My son’s phone call brought me back to the weeks and days leading up to leaving South Africa after almost three years. There were many goodbye parties. There was the usual pathos of leaving a parish you love as a parish priest---some parishioners accepted your move and gave thanks for being together, some parishioners clung tighter, some parishioners distanced themselves from you as far as possible, some were inexplicably angry at you. But the day we left---that was a long day as well. By then, the furniture was again on the container somewhere in the Atlantic on its way to Baltimore. We didn’t pray for the container anymore. We had been burglarized again and so had less luggage than what we arrived with. The parish car was at Peter Day’s house without tires on blocks---so it wouldn’t be stolen before the next parish priest arrived. Passports and tickets in hand, we were just waiting to go. All international overseas flight generally leave Johannesburg in the early to late evening. That meant waiting around all day. I don’t even know what we did. Jack and Anna read the new Harry Potter book which was impossible to get at home, but plentiful on the shelves of Johannesburg bookstores. But the time came to go to the airport. It was time to leave our home of three years. It was time to leave my sister in Christ Estelle. We drove to the airport in two cars this time. The Rogans drove Jack, Anna and Bryan. I rode with Estelle. A great heaviness hung in the car. Estelle had special African music on her tape player. We drove by those same gold dumps and mines that we had passed thre years ago—now as familiar as old friends. The heaviness stayed with us as we checked our luggage and waited with a grand assortment of friends from the parish in the restaurant area. Then it was time to board the plane. It was time to leave Estelle. That meant we were really going. On the way to the entrance to the boarding area, Dorothy Mosepe and Thembe arrived with presents. There were hugs all around. Then I turned to Estelle. It was too much. The floodgates opened. We hugged and she ran off into the crowd. I watched until I could no longer see her bright white hair. It didn’t take long. Once in the duty free area, I headed for the Ladies Room. I sobbed and sobbed in the stall. My heart felt as it were being torn from my body. Why was I leaving? What was I thinking?
How can it be that leaving people you have known only a few short months or a couple of years be so difficult? There is something about leaving friends in Christ in another part of the world. There is something about stepping forth in faith into a dark and unknown place—only trusting that God’s love will be present in those who are your companions on the way while in that place. In our American world of “I’ll scratch your back, if you scratch mine” and “Well, what have you done for me lately?” it is humbling and awesome to place your lives in the hands of strangers and be loved beyond measure—just because you are human and a child of God. There is no sense of binding family duty in the world of global ministry. There is just the overwhelming love of God. People love you because you are you in Christ. Amazing! It took going to the farthest spot in the world for me to realize this. Once you realize this, you never want to let it go.
I know there were some adults who wondered how Bryan and I could possibly let our 17 year old son go to Beijing, China for an academic year. Was it prudent? Was it safe? Could we possibly be good, responsible parents if we let him go? I think it was the gift of South Africa that Jack even considered going to China for his junior year of high school and we as his parents considered letting him go. We know that the kindness of strangers is an incredible gift and blessing—especially the kindness of strangers in Christ. Strangers in Christ? Is that possible? The only way to know for sure is to step into that dark, unknown place and see. And we now know. In God’s love, there are no strangers. Only ministering angels. But we have to step out in faith not knowing to know it finally.
As Jack left China, his Chinese father cried. On the other side of the world, as he walked down a long corridor at Baltimore-Washington Airport, an American mother embraced her son in tears. Both were tears of heartache and joy—for the leaving and for the coming together once again. If we don’t meet in South Africa or America or China again, we will meet in the Kingdom and there we will see one another face to face. I now know that this is true in my heart. The tears tell me it is so.
As I pondered how it could be that it was 21 years ago that I was in the hospital wondering what labor and delivery was all about (and about to find out directly), I was brought back to pregnancy and delivery by our two Memorial couples who will be finding out directly about birth this month. On Sunday morning, I gave the parish cross to Tom and Erin who are expecting a baby this coming weekend. Sunday afternoon, I took communion to Liz and Steph. Liz hopes to have her son (to be named Henry Isaac!) over Thanksgiving (or sooner she says). My visit with Liz and Steph took me back 21 years to sleeping sitting up, eating Ben and Jerry's heath bar crunch ice cream a pint at at time, and raking leaves 9 months pregnant. Such feelings of excitement, anticipation and fear rolled into one.
At EFM class (Education for Ministry) last week, I presented a theological reflection on my son's leavetaking a few years ago to China. I've written about his coming home as part of my South Africa writings. Here is the excerpt.
The Art of Coming Home
It was the longest day of my life so far. Surely there have been many long hours and days. There was the day leading up to thyroid cancer surgery. There was Bryan’s prostate surgery this past February. But Wednesday, May 31, 2006 must have been the longest day of my life. My first born son, Jack, would arrive home from Beijing, China after an academic year away. He was to fly through 12 time zones and over Russia, the Bearing Strait, Alaska and then across the entire United States. I began to feel the dread of his journey on Monday. My stomach just didn’t feel right. That’s where it always begins. In the pit of my stomach. As I sat down to read the newspaper on Tuesday morning the phone rang. It was Jack. He was clearly anxious. He couldn’t get everything in his suitcase. He had to leave his sleeping bag behind. He had said goodbye to all his teachers. Now it was almost time to say goodbye to his Chinese mom and dad—who had loved and cared for him since he arrived last August. Parting was hard. His voice kept getting quieter. He said he didn’t feel well. He couldn’t breathe. Could I call him back? When I called back after an agonizing five minutes, he seemed better, but his voice still was weak. “Breathe, Bub,” I said, “Just breathe.” We started talking about the Orioles—how was the hometown baseball team doing? Not so well. The pitching stank. A laugh. Equilibrium was returning to his voice. After I hung up, I had to breathe---deep, long, slow breaths. My heart went out to my son. It is always hard saying goodbye to those you love. It is particularly hard saying goodbye to friends and family who live far away---even after only a few short months.
My son’s phone call brought me back to the weeks and days leading up to leaving South Africa after almost three years. There were many goodbye parties. There was the usual pathos of leaving a parish you love as a parish priest---some parishioners accepted your move and gave thanks for being together, some parishioners clung tighter, some parishioners distanced themselves from you as far as possible, some were inexplicably angry at you. But the day we left---that was a long day as well. By then, the furniture was again on the container somewhere in the Atlantic on its way to Baltimore. We didn’t pray for the container anymore. We had been burglarized again and so had less luggage than what we arrived with. The parish car was at Peter Day’s house without tires on blocks---so it wouldn’t be stolen before the next parish priest arrived. Passports and tickets in hand, we were just waiting to go. All international overseas flight generally leave Johannesburg in the early to late evening. That meant waiting around all day. I don’t even know what we did. Jack and Anna read the new Harry Potter book which was impossible to get at home, but plentiful on the shelves of Johannesburg bookstores. But the time came to go to the airport. It was time to leave our home of three years. It was time to leave my sister in Christ Estelle. We drove to the airport in two cars this time. The Rogans drove Jack, Anna and Bryan. I rode with Estelle. A great heaviness hung in the car. Estelle had special African music on her tape player. We drove by those same gold dumps and mines that we had passed thre years ago—now as familiar as old friends. The heaviness stayed with us as we checked our luggage and waited with a grand assortment of friends from the parish in the restaurant area. Then it was time to board the plane. It was time to leave Estelle. That meant we were really going. On the way to the entrance to the boarding area, Dorothy Mosepe and Thembe arrived with presents. There were hugs all around. Then I turned to Estelle. It was too much. The floodgates opened. We hugged and she ran off into the crowd. I watched until I could no longer see her bright white hair. It didn’t take long. Once in the duty free area, I headed for the Ladies Room. I sobbed and sobbed in the stall. My heart felt as it were being torn from my body. Why was I leaving? What was I thinking?
How can it be that leaving people you have known only a few short months or a couple of years be so difficult? There is something about leaving friends in Christ in another part of the world. There is something about stepping forth in faith into a dark and unknown place—only trusting that God’s love will be present in those who are your companions on the way while in that place. In our American world of “I’ll scratch your back, if you scratch mine” and “Well, what have you done for me lately?” it is humbling and awesome to place your lives in the hands of strangers and be loved beyond measure—just because you are human and a child of God. There is no sense of binding family duty in the world of global ministry. There is just the overwhelming love of God. People love you because you are you in Christ. Amazing! It took going to the farthest spot in the world for me to realize this. Once you realize this, you never want to let it go.
I know there were some adults who wondered how Bryan and I could possibly let our 17 year old son go to Beijing, China for an academic year. Was it prudent? Was it safe? Could we possibly be good, responsible parents if we let him go? I think it was the gift of South Africa that Jack even considered going to China for his junior year of high school and we as his parents considered letting him go. We know that the kindness of strangers is an incredible gift and blessing—especially the kindness of strangers in Christ. Strangers in Christ? Is that possible? The only way to know for sure is to step into that dark, unknown place and see. And we now know. In God’s love, there are no strangers. Only ministering angels. But we have to step out in faith not knowing to know it finally.
As Jack left China, his Chinese father cried. On the other side of the world, as he walked down a long corridor at Baltimore-Washington Airport, an American mother embraced her son in tears. Both were tears of heartache and joy—for the leaving and for the coming together once again. If we don’t meet in South Africa or America or China again, we will meet in the Kingdom and there we will see one another face to face. I now know that this is true in my heart. The tears tell me it is so.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Back in the saddle!
Our help is in the Name of the Lord,* the maker of heaven and earth Psalm 124:8
It's fun to be back at the blog--pondering God and life. I can't believe that it is now the end of September and that fall is truly upon us. Fall is my favorite season. Even though it is hard to return to the pace of fuller days, I find that help comes in God's creative touch in the fall weather. I love the crisp days. Perfect days for hiking. Not just hiking in the country but hiking in the city. This Saturday, I had my first fall hike. The front was blowing in from the west and there was a stiff breeze when I started out around 10:30 am. I walked from the Clipper Mill apartments up to the Druid Hill trail that begins at the top of our street up into the north edge of Druid Hill Park. It was quiet. The only sounds were the acorns falling from the oak trees. I walked past the Frisbee Golf course and by the Maryland Zoo. The zoo parking lot was filling up and many families and couples were making their way to the zoo entrance. I continued walking towards the arboretum. There were cars parked everywhere as a Baltimore Tennis Patrons breakfast was in full swing under the tent. There was a plant sale at the arboretum. A little ways further and I found the resevoir full of walkers and joggers. The city was renting bikes at the resevoir as well and there were families, singles and couples riding around and around the water. I felt part of a great whirlwind of urban activity and recreation. I briefly considered conitnuing on across the 29th street bridge but I retraced my steps back through the park. I arrived back home after an hour and a half of brisk walking. I felt alive in the wind, the cooler weather, the urban activity, the green space. I love urban hiking! I'd like to discover other great urban hikes--what's yours?
It's fun to be back at the blog--pondering God and life. I can't believe that it is now the end of September and that fall is truly upon us. Fall is my favorite season. Even though it is hard to return to the pace of fuller days, I find that help comes in God's creative touch in the fall weather. I love the crisp days. Perfect days for hiking. Not just hiking in the country but hiking in the city. This Saturday, I had my first fall hike. The front was blowing in from the west and there was a stiff breeze when I started out around 10:30 am. I walked from the Clipper Mill apartments up to the Druid Hill trail that begins at the top of our street up into the north edge of Druid Hill Park. It was quiet. The only sounds were the acorns falling from the oak trees. I walked past the Frisbee Golf course and by the Maryland Zoo. The zoo parking lot was filling up and many families and couples were making their way to the zoo entrance. I continued walking towards the arboretum. There were cars parked everywhere as a Baltimore Tennis Patrons breakfast was in full swing under the tent. There was a plant sale at the arboretum. A little ways further and I found the resevoir full of walkers and joggers. The city was renting bikes at the resevoir as well and there were families, singles and couples riding around and around the water. I felt part of a great whirlwind of urban activity and recreation. I briefly considered conitnuing on across the 29th street bridge but I retraced my steps back through the park. I arrived back home after an hour and a half of brisk walking. I felt alive in the wind, the cooler weather, the urban activity, the green space. I love urban hiking! I'd like to discover other great urban hikes--what's yours?
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