A scandalous revelation. Blasphemy. A confession that asks us to lay down our ambitions.
Who do people say that I am?
What do we reply when we stand before the world?
Who do you say that I am?
What do we reply when we stand before the Lord?
You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God, the savior of the world.
Are we willing to stand before those who doubt or jeer? Are we willing to carry hope, peace and joy into the world?
We reflect on our willingness to act on what we say we believe. Musician Matt Maher presents a video reflection on what our ambitions might promise or condemn. Watch at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5PHGRMHm8o
As we prepare for the celebration of Easter, we return to some Christmastide meditations from 2011 and we reflect on how the Passion and Easter stories begin in a stable in Bethlehem.
This is the perfect time of year to think about our relationship with God – this God who comes into our lives as one of us in such a humble way that his family must beg for shelter, and within days of the child’s delivery they must flee into exile. The Messiah’s family life is one of constant dichotomy and this is fitting for it reflects our own lives of surprises, disappointments, and promises both fulfilled and unfulfilled. Our days are a series of hills and valleys, of ups and downs that make us anxious and fearful – we wish everything to be settled and determined. These highs and lows show us our mortality and make us uncomfortable – we prefer a life in which we are in total control.
From the very beginning of Jesus’ story, we see his family’s split reality; they are welcomed and gifted by both shepherds and magi, and they are hunted by Herod’s soldiers. (Matthew 2:1-18) In today’s Noontimewe go back to the time when the people of Israel have come home to Jerusalem after exile. They too, live lives of dichotomy, lives full of fear and hope for they know that the nation’s disobedience and errant ways have separated them from God; yet they hope for a return to their special status before God.
Tomorrow, the Israelites, Ezra, flight, and return.
As we prepare for the celebration of Easter, we return to some Christmastide meditations from 2011 and we reflect on how the Passion and Easter stories begin in a stable in Bethlehem.
Yesterday we reflected on Psalm 62; today we pray as we reflect . . .
Trust God at all times, my people! Pour out your hearts to God our refuge!
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to voice all that we are as creatures of God.
God alone is my rock and salvation, my secure height; I shall never fall.
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to recall the temptations that lead us away from God.
They delight in lies; they bless with their mouths, and inwardly they curse.
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to remember where we must focus our energies.
Though wealth increase, do not set your heart upon it.
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to think about how power and kindness relate to one another.
Power belongs to God; so too, Lord does kindness,
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to see where we might find full and lasting peace.
My soul, be at rest in God alone, from whom comes my hope.
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to acknowledge the difficulty life presents to us.
How long will you set upon people, all of you beating them down, as though they were a sagging fence or a battering wall?
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to recognize our proper relationship with God and others.
Mortals are a mere breath, the powerful but an illusion; on a balance they rise; together they are lighter than air.
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to tell God all that troubles us.
Pour out your hearts to God our refuge!
When we pray this psalm aloud we have the opportunity to call on God and to hear God’s words to us. Trust God at all times, my people! Amen!
Many of us believe that truth must be told at all times and at all cost. Others hold that the truth can be painful and so make allowances for small inventions that ease or ruin feelings and relationships. Little white lies, we are told, soften the rough edges of life and moderate rough patches we experience. Today we are invited to examine The Truth that Jesus opens to us. The Truth that transforms and even releases. The Truth that liberates and exhorts. What can this truth and this freedom possibly look like?
God says:I have called you away from the dead end of self-involvement with the hope that you will see the beauty of my kingdom. The hope I place in you is that you welcome the balm of my love and take it in fully. I have faith that you will allow my love to travel through you to release you from your small worries and enormous burdens. My son teaches you how to give in to this love. He shows you a life that acts in full freedom through me. I have created you for fullness in me rather than the world. I have formed you for high purpose and noble deeds. I have shaped you for deep love and infinite commitment. This is the truth I offer you. This is the truth that will fully free you.
The freedom from illness and violence. The truth that is bold yet gentle. A parent who protects and guides. A brother who shepherds and heals. A lover who gives in to no turmoil or pain. This is the truth and freedom we seek. It is the truth and freedom we already possess. It is the truth and freedom that we find in God’s kingdom of love.
Moving away from the path that ends in nothing to the path that brings us life, we remember our Lenten practice. Rather than thinking: “I will set all things right in God’s kingdom,” let us think instead, “I will strive each day to follow Jesus’ example of forgiveness, mercy and love”.
John tells us unequivocally . . . they welcomed him, but only because they were impressed with what he had done in Jerusalem during the Passover Feast, not that they really had a clue about who he was or what he was up to. Today we pause to consider if this thinking mirrors our own. Do we follow Jesus blindly because of what he can do for us? Or do we follow him because of who he is, what he embodies, and who we hope to become?
God says: The miracles I shower on the world are not meant to lure you into loving me. They come from my genuine desire to be one with you. The signs I leave along your pilgrim way are not meant to convince you of my presence. They are the physical reality of my faith in you. My actions in your life are not meant to dazzle you. They are the hands of hope that I offer you. You are free to come with me and follow My Way. You are free to follow the way you see that another lays out for you or the way you prepare for yourself; but unless you follow me you will not revel in the goodness, the comfort and joy that I have in mind for you. I have promised this to you from your inception and I will continue to offer it until you expire. I am always and everywhere. I am. And I offer this wholeness to you. It is my hope for you that you come to believe in my deep and abiding love for you.
The impact of the healing of the official’s son is so enormous that it brings the entire family to conversion. Do we need such enormous signs? Do we need such convincing? Or do we need God . . . and nothing more?
When we believe that we do not see God’s presence often in our lives, let us ask God for the gifts of strength and persistence as we, like the centurion and his family, come to believe. Today we remember this week’s Lenten practice. Rather than thinking: “God’s generosity is sometimes not fair,” let us think instead, “When we put away the past and follow God’s example of enormous generosity, we are better able to welcome the lost back home into the kingdom . . . and to give thanks for our own part in God’s great rejoicing”.
Bartolomé Esteban Murillo: Return of the Prodigal Son – National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
There is a portion of Isaiah’s prophecy (Isaiah 10: 20-27) which speaks to us about holding on to the tiniest thread of hope even when everyone else has walked away, has given up and given in. When all is dark and seems lost forever to the dark ways, somewhere deep, and often hidden, there is a tiny grain of hope. And these tiny grains of hope are Christ who is in each one of us, and in every part of creation. This Christ is hope.
In the image of the The Return of the Prodigal Son by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo we see the return of the errant son, and the darkness on the face of the envious son who remains. We also see abundant joy on the face of the father who has persisted in remnant hope and love.
This story is familiar to us and yet we benefit from reflecting with the words and the image.
Both sons of this loving father struggle – whether or not they physically or spiritually separate from him. Both want to inherit the Father’s gifts, both want to experience life and its joys . . . yet are they willing to be remnant? And are we?
Today we reflect on the meaning of remaining, the meaning of hope, and how we too often squander both of these gifts in our own lives.
Do we remain? Do we abide? Are we faithful? Do we offer God our constancy? Do we embody hope? Do we examine our motives and our conscience? Do we seek enablers in our lives or do we gather honest, authentic friends around us who love us enough to be careful mirrors?
We are imperfect creatures, framed by time and space. Our souls either languish or flourish. They rely on the food and drink we bring them. They burgeon with prayer. They wither when they lack Eucharist, Scripture and dialog with Christ.
Our innermost heart is our core which either collapses with neglect or flowers with grace. Our minds are fed by the images and words we select as most worthy of holding and remembering. Our bodies weary from their world journey, yet hum with joy when we nourish them well.
Being remnantis a difficult task. It makes the decision to return after waywardness. It makes the decision to strengthen its bonds even if it has remained.
Being remnant is an arduous task. It calls for holding on in the face of impossibility. It requires that we turn away from the hectic social demands on our time and space.
Being remnantis a beautiful gift. It demands that we make a refuge each moment of every day to reconnect with God. And it obliges us to look at Murillo’s painting to ask and answer the questions: Who am I? One of the Sons? The Forgiving Parent? The Obliging Servant? Am I Remnant? Am I Hope?
Adapted from a Favorite written on June 7, 2008.
We remember our Lenten practice. Rather than thinking: “Let us make three tents to contain the joy of God’s wisdom,” let us think instead, “Let us share the joy of God’s great gift of love”.
We read the familiar words from Matthew and hope they are true.
Ask, and you will receive . . .
We explore these same verses in other translations.
Don’t bargain with God. Be direct.
We repeat the familiar words from Matthew to take them in as our mantra of faith.
Seek, and you will find . . .
We hunger and thirst for serenity, a serenity we already have but cannot fully experience.
Ask for what you need.
We pray the familiar words from Matthew as we pledge to live them in love.
Knock, and the door will be opened to you . . .
We share the Good News with the world, and announce that the Kingdom has come.
This isn’t a cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek game we’re in.
We feel the power of the Spirit, the hope of Christ and the love of God move through our flesh and bones.
Ask, and you will receive . . . Seek, and you will find . . . Knock, and the door will be opened to you . . .
This is our prayer, the prayer of the faithful. This is our hope, the hope of the hopeless. This is God’s love, the love of Christ.
Don’t bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need. This isn’t a cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek game we’re in.
This is life, life eternal. Let us begin to live as if we believe in the Good News of Christ.
The dusky tan verses are from the GOOD NEWS translation and the Lenten purple are from THE MESSAGE. When we use the scripture link above to read more of these translations and to look for others, God’s Word begins to lighten the load of the day. Consider the Luke 11:9 version of Jesus’ words. How does it differ from Matthew’s?
As we reflect, we remember . . . rather than thinking: “I am misunderstood,” I will think instead, “God is so understanding”.
Tomorrow we enter into the Lenten season and so as we prepare we strengthen our relationship with God. The prophet Jeremiah experienced the destruction of Israel’s beautiful relationship with Yahweh despite his intensity and persistence in warning of the coming fall. We might tap into that passion and persistence today. We might draw on the prophet’s faith, hope and love for God as he sees it in all.
You know where I am,God! Remember what I’m doing here!
Take my side against my detractors.
When we feel as though no one listens . . . we speak as Jeremiah speaks.
Don’t stand back while they ruin me. Just look at the abuse I’m taking!
When we feel as though no one sees . . . we ask as Jeremiah asks.
I never joined the party crowd in their laughter and their fun.
When we feel as though no one acts in the Lord . . . we live as Jeremiah lives.
When your words showed up, I ate them— swallowed them whole. What a feast!
What delight I took in being yours, OGod!
When we feel as though no one believes . . . we love as Jeremiah loves.
And so we pray . . .
Remember me, Lord, remember who I am and where I am.
Remember me, Jesus, remember how I am and why I am.
Remember me, Holy Comforter, remember that I am . . . remember that I am . . .
We may or may not know the story of Stephen, the martyr stoned for acting with and speaking about the healing power of Christ. Once the full impact of this story settles on us, we might hope that the Spirit notinspire us. We might wish to shed the power of God’s wisdom rather than ask that it dwell within. It is likely that the trials are not as severe as Stephen’s; yet gossip in the home or workplace can break the spirit just as stones break bones. Severe illness, economic and natural disasters, slander, bullying and fear can bring an end to life. Stephen’s reaction to his enemies gives us a measuring stick for our own actions.
If we look only quickly at these chapters, we might at first believe that the lives of all true Christians must come to a frightening end. When we look more closely to find clues in the details, we uncover what it means to live a life brimming with God’s grace and energy. No matter our persecution, no matter the place or time of our trial, Stephen’s yardstick serves as a stark measure of God’s love in our lives.
6:7: The Word of God prospered. The number of disciples in Jerusalem increased dramatically. Not least, a great many priests submitted themselves to the faith.
When we experience God’s presence, we can expect envy and anger from others. Like Stephen, we must persist in gentleness and honesty.
6:8: Stephen, brimming with God’s grace and energy, was doing wonderful things among the people, unmistakable signs that God was among them.
When we witness God’s presence, we can expect dishonesty and deceit from others. Like Stephen, we must persist in courage and hope.
6:11: In secret [Stephen’s enemies] bribed men to lie [against him].
When we live in God’s presence, we can expect fear and anger from others. Like Stephen, we must persist in patience and love.
When we meet obstacles brought on by avarice, resentment and rage, we might consider the power we find in gentleness, honesty, patience, courage, hope and love. These traits will appear weak to the foolish, but in reality they are manifestations of God’s grace and energy, God’s enduring and healing love.
If we do not have time to spend with Chapters 6 and 7 of Acts, we might focus on Acts 6:8-10 and 7:54-59.
The Noontimes 
