Michael Seiler

Category: Daily Office Reflections

Daily Office reflections are random off-the-cuff thoughts related to the readings for the day. The entry may not be as fully thought out as other posts where I might have more time to formulate my thoughts. I include the scripture reading references so that I can search my own blog for previous thoughts on the same scripture when asked to preach.

  • Live a Little

    And why are we putting ourselves in danger every hour? I die every day! That is as certain, brothers and sisters, as my boasting of you — a boast that I make in Christ Jesus our Lord. If with merely human hopes I fought with wild animals at Ephesus, what would I have gained by it? If the dead are not raised, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” Do not be deceived: “Bad company ruins good morals.” Come to a sober and right mind, and sin no more; for some people have no knowledge of God. I say this to your shame. With what kind of body? But someone will ask, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body do they come?” Fool! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. And as for what you sow, you do not sow the body that is to be, but a bare seed, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain. But God gives it a body as he has chosen, and to each kind of seed its own body. Not all flesh is alike, but there is one flesh for human beings, another for animals, another for birds, and another for fish. There are both heavenly bodies and earthly bodies, but the glory of the heavenly is one thing, and that of the earthly is another. There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; indeed, star differs from star in glory.

    1 Corinthians 15:30-41

    This passage from the fifteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians, part of the “Resurrection Chapter,” builds upon the previous verses, where Paul tells us that if people do not rise from the dead, then neither does Christ, and therefore, all preaching is futile and so is our faith (v. 14). He goes on and says that if we only have hope in Christ in this life – as in, we won’t rise from the dead ourselves – then “we are of all people most to be pitied” (v. 19). Finally, he reiterates that Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, and then we get to this passage, where he again he talks about hope.

    How could Paul have fought wild animals in Ephesus if he didn’t believe in a resurrection? How could he have suffered through the trials and persecutions he did, the imprisonments, unless he believed in a resurrection? This is exactly why Paul said we should be pitied if we follow this hope in Christ without any hope of a future beyond this world. Why are we subjecting ourselves to persecution, ridicule, imprisonment and torture, if there is nothing beyond this life of ours? If this life is all there is, then by all means, we should “eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.”

    That quote comes from Isaiah 22:13, and the prophet there was chastising the Israelites for failing to repent of their evil, and instead, choosing to make merry in the face of impending doom. God had called upon them to repent and wear sackcloth (v. 12), and instead, they decided to throw their hands up in the air, and say, “Well, tomorrow we die, so let’s just enjoy our last day.” Forget about repenting, let’s live for the moment.

    And so, Paul is admonishing believers in Corinth for living with the same mindset: “This life is all we have, so let’s live a little! We aren’t going to be resurrected, so let’s make this life all that it should be!” And, because of this mindset, they were spending time with those of “bad company,” which was clearly corrupting their morals. The rend result was that the witness of their faith in Christ was indistinguishable from those with whom they were spending time.

    Both the challenge of impending invasion facing the Israelites in Isaiah, and the view in Corinth that the resurrection was a pipe dream spoke to a lack of faith. Is God the great provider? Is God mighty and capable of turning away invaders? Is God mighty and capable of raising the dead, and therefore raising us to new life – one that brims with meaning and fulfillment? Or is God merely the purveyor of a new moral code, one that promises peace, tranquility, an abundant life and resurrection after death – but can’t really deliver?

    In some ways, choosing to live this life to the fullest is an admirable one. It chooses to make the best out of what most would consider a finite existence. But it neglects the truth that our existence is not here merely for our pleasure, nor is this life here for our own sake. We are here because God has freed us from sin and granted us new life. God has given us the tools to live our lives, and live them abundantly.

    Some focus on the hedonistic pleasures of this world because of our eventual death. Others, at times, focus too heavily on our eventual death and fail to live at all. But if there is a resurrection of the dead, then what do we really have to fear? Wild animals in Ephesus? Imprisonment? Ridicule for our beliefs? Torture? Or can we boldly go, with a “sober and right mind” into the world, proclaiming the Love of God by word and action, and live a little?

  • Do Not Heap Up Empty Phrases

    “When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. The LORD’s Prayer “Pray then in this way: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one. For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

    Daily Office, May 17, 2022

    This past week we had two mass shootings in this country. Or, rather, there were reports of 18 mass shootings from Tuesday of last week (May 10th)1, but only two of them made the national news. The one that garnered the most attention was the shooting in Buffalo, New York, in which thirteen people were shot, and ten people died, committed by a man motivated by hatred and bigotry.

    After every such shooting, politicians and social media users alike post about how their “thoughts and prayers” are with those who have died, and with their loved ones who survived them. I wonder what those “Thoughts and Prayers” really are? Are the thoughts, “I’m glad that wasn’t me there?” and are the prayers, “Please lord, don’t let it happen again?” Or, maybe, are the thoughts as crass as, “I need to post something so that I don’t lose any votes?” and the prayers as self-serving as, “Please, lord, don’t let them ask me about my voting record?”

    “Thoughts and prayers.” If ever there was a heaping up of empty phrases, these three words after every major mass shooting in this country would win the prize for most overused phrase with the most under-whelming effect. “Thoughts and prayers” mean nothing when they do not move people to affect real and lasting change. “Thoughts and prayers” do not mean a thing, when the words are bandied about as a salve to an epidemic of death and violence in this country – an epidemic that no one in power seems to want to address.

    Those on the side of 2nd Amendment Gun Rights can agree with those on the the side of Gun Control legislation that we have an epidemic of violence in this country. The facts support this statement. Eighteen reported mass shooting incidents in this country since May 10th of this year – just seven short days. That’s more than two mass shootings a day. Naturally, while those on both sides might agree that we have an epidemic of violence in this country, that is where the agreement stops. Both sides have their understanding about what causes these problems, and both sides have arguments for what needs to happen next.

    Today’s Gospel reading shares with us the way that Jesus wants us to pray, and it warns against heaping up empty phrases so that we are heard by many. And then it teaches us that we are to pray “Your kingdom come, Your will be done.” It is not telling us to pray for our rights, it is not telling us to pray for our own desires, but it is telling us to pray for the manifestation of God’s kingdom on this earth. And in doing so, hopefully, we find ourselves questioning what God’s will might be. By focusing on God’s will, we begin to find ourselves changing into people who push less for our own agendas, and instead search for what God might want in this world.

    It should be fairly obvious from reading the accounts of Jesus in the Gospels that violence meted out upon others is not God’s will for this world. Hatred and bigotry are not God’s will in this world. Anger and fear are not God’s will in this world. It should be clear that as Christians we are supposed to be the arbiters of peace in this world, those who reflect the love of Christ in this world. It should be clear that God’s will should become our will, rather than seeking to bend God’s words to justify our own.

    Ten people in Buffalo, New York are dead. Their lives, their purposes, their dreams, all cut short. Their families grieve. Three more are wounded, their lives forever shattered by a trauma that will be relived over and over again, which is its own kind of death.

    If all we do is offer our “thoughts and prayers” then we have done nothing but heaped up empty phrases.

    Something must be done to end the violence and to perpetuate God’s peace in this world. And we, as part of the family of God are to be a part of it. We cannot sit idly by and do nothing as violence and bigotry grow in this country. To do nothing is to remain silent, and “silence is complicity.2“

    1. https://www.gunviolencearchive.org/reports/mass-shooting
    2. https://twitter.com/POTUS/status/1526627890539929602

  • My Way or the Highway

    I meet with a group of people to do morning prayer over Zoom and the other day, the officiant decided that we would be reading Canticle 10. Though we’ve read this canticle together quite often, this particular day the words jumped out at me a bit more.

    The author of the passage has just told people that they should seek God while God wills to be found, and for the wicked to turn from their ways. God, the author says, will have compassion on them, and God will richly pardon them of their transgressions.

    Why?

    For my thoughts are not your thoughts,*
    nor your ways my ways, says the Lord.

    For as the heavens are higher than the earth,*
    so are my ways higher than your ways,
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.

    Canticle 10, 1979 Book of Common Prayer

    God’s ways are higher than our ways, it says. And God’s thoughts are higher than our own.

    This doesn’t surprise me, and it shouldn’t surprise anyone. More often than not, our thoughts are not aligned with one who would richly pardon the wicked. Our hearts and minds can take a dark turn, at times, when we see the wicked flourish and the righteous suffer beyond what seems fair and just.

    We seem to be wired to want leniency for those we deem worthy, and the harshest of penalties for those we consider evil. The idea of watching the evil go unpunished, and the wicked pardoned goes against every fiber of our natural beings.

    We would rather see the wicked punished and the righteous flourish.

    And, of course, we always count ourselves among the righteous.

    We count ourselves among the righteous because it is far too easy to rationalize our own shortcomings and explain away all the reasons why we might have behaved a certain way. And at the same time we assign malicious intent to someone who does the exact same thing we have done – or continue to do – simply because we do not have the luxury of understanding their story like we understand our own story. Nor do the recipients of our blame and judgment have the benefit of writing their own story in the same way that we create the narrative of our own lives.

    There is a center to the narrative we tell ourselves, a bright shining point of light, and that point of light we like to believe, is us. What happens, happens for a reason – either because we deserve it, or because others are to blame.

    But God doesn’t see us at the center of the story. God sees the interconnection of all the stories, and God sees each of us as a story within a greater narrative. It is a grand story of love and acceptance, of joy and of pain, of beauty and suffering, of transgression and rich pardon.

    And still, that is not my way. At least not the way I would want to see God working in the world. Not on those days where I feel that I’ve seen too much evil and suffering in the world, and would rather see the God of smiting, rather than the God of pardon.

    But that is part of our story too. To align our ways to the ways of God, so that God’s ways might ever become more of our ways.

  • Jesus Christ, Crucified

    When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God. Yet among the mature we do speak wisdom, though it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are doomed to perish. But we speak God’s wisdom, secret and hidden, which God decreed before the ages for our glory. None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him” — these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. For what human being knows what is truly human except the human spirit that is within? So also no one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God. Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God. And we speak of these things in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual things to those who are spiritual.

    1 Corinthians 2:1-13

    After every morning prayer, the leader of our group usually asks if anyone had any insights to share on any of the readings for the day. the first thing that jumped out to me was this phrase, “…no eye has seen … what God has prepared for those who love him.” I mentioned the hope that is contained in those words, as this phrase is often used by itself, outside of this context within Paul’s letter, often on calendars or postcards intended to lift our spirits. The hope comes from this idea that God has prepared things for us that are beyond our understanding, and beyond our imagination.

    But within this context, Paul is defining for us those things that we cannot have come to understand in any way except that God revealed them to us through the Spirit. And that Spirit is given to us by God for the sole purpose of understanding the gifts bestowed upon us. It almost sounds Gnostic, this idea that we understand things because we have received the Spirit of God, because by implication, there are those that have not received the Spirit of God (the rulers of this age), and therefore, they wouldn’t understand. Of course, the difference is that Paul believes that everyone has access to the Spirit of God, and that it is not some mystery that is available only to the initiated.

    What Paul is teaching, however basic it might appear to some, was wisdom that can only be understood in spiritual terms. The academics and the scholars of the age could not preach and teach what Paul was teaching, unless they also had the Spirit of God. So Paul, timid and fearful, proclaimed the Good News of a God who died, a concept that he had just called “foolishness to the Greeks,” in chapter 1. Since the Greeks were known for their wisdom and learning, the idea of a murdered God seemed asinine.

    But for those who accept the Spirit of God, “Christ crucified,” is the beginning of understanding the depths of God. It is the first step in coming to learn “what God has prepared for those who love him.”

    It’s Paul’s approach that I find interesting here as well. He basically tells his listeners that he didn’t come with big, fancy words, but with the basic concept of a crucified Lord. It was the story of a God who humbled himself, and was humiliated by the powers of this world. It was the story of a God who died for those he loved. It was the story of a Christ who presented his weaknesses to the world to show them the strength of his desire to redeem them. And Paul did all of this while he, himself, was afraid, trembling in the fear of his own weaknesses. But that’s what Paul wanted. His approach was to let others see the power of God in his actions, and not in his fancy and persuasive words.

    Just recently, someone told me they questioned my commitment to a particular institution, and this got me to thinking about this very phrase, “I claim to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” Paul turned the world upside down with a simple message of God’s grace, and from that, somehow, we have turned ourselves into institutions of varying size and creed, yet all still professing the same basic truth – even if we disagree on so much more beyond that simple truth. Our understanding of God changes and morphs over time as God reveals more and more to us. So should we declare our commitment to a particular institution? Or should we only ever declare ourselves to “know nothing, except Christ, and him crucified?”

  • Yup, That Was Weird

    Daily Office Readings – Gospel ( Luke 5:12-26 )

    In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus heals a man from leprosy and then later, he heals a paralyzed man who had been lowered through the roof of the house by his friends. Rather than immediately healing the man, Jesus forgives the man his sins, which sets off a dialogue with the ranks of the scribes and pharisees on who this person could be, the man who is forgiving the sins of others.

    Jesus notices the questions, and asks them what is easier to say, “Your sins are forgiven,” or “Stand up and walk.” Taken literally, neither one is more difficult to say than the other. Both consist of four words. Both take about the same time to say. It seems like such an odd question, since to most people, confronted with someone seeking to be healed from a physical infirmity, both responses would be impossible to say. And, forgiveness of sins seems like such an odd response to the reality of a paralyzed man laying on a bed in front of you. Yet Jesus responds with the forgiveness of sins.

    To be fair, the forgiveness of sins is healing. It heals the soul and the mind. It heals the heart. Healing from physical infirmity is another type of healing, and this man lowered from the ceiling received both that day. And in the process, Jesus managed to once again make it clear to those seeking to silence him and get rid of him, that he was, in fact, the Son of Man – indicating his humanity – and also, the Son of God – indicating his divinity. He had the authority and the power to heal, he had the power to forgive sins.

    And Jesus did both.

    The paralyzed man stood up, picked up his bed, and walked away. And all those present were filled with awe and amazement.

    Now, I know this is primarily a matter of the translation I am using, but at the end of the reading, my translation states that the people there said, “We have seen strange things today.”

    “We have seen strange things today.”

    After having been told that these people were filled with amazement and awe, and were glorifying God, these people then said what amounts to, “Yup. That was weird.” This depiction of their response seems so contrary to the way we are told they are acting – glorifying God in a state of awe.

    Again, I know this is largely due to my translation, and also to whatever thoughts were going through my head this morning as one of my prayer partners read that passage from Luke. But, the strange juxtaposition of words and actions just kind of jumped out at me, and I began to wonder about how sometimes our reactions to the amazing works of God in this world come down to our simply stating, “Yup. That was weird.”

    We are confronted with the miraculous every day. We are confronted with an inexplicable turn of events that improve the lives of others. We are confronted with random acts of kindness – that affect us and those we love – in ways that defy logic, sometimes even to those performing those acts of kindness. Some people with incurable diseases are cured, and others told they will never walk again, defy the odds, and learn not only to walk, but to run. The miraculous surrounds us, if we care to see it.

    And our response? “We have seen strange things today,” we say, and look for a rational, logical explanation to these events. Our mind seems to search for something concrete to grasp on to, because we would rather unlock the mysteries of the universe and put things into nice ordered set of boxes and cubbyholes. We chalk things up to coincidences, being in the right place at the right time. We see patterns where none exist, so that we might not stand in awe of anything, but instead, create order out of chaos.

    Instead, we ought simply to remain in a state of awe, and glorify a God who orders our chaos for us.

  • Cancel Culture Jesus?

    Daily Office Readings – ( John 2:13-22 )

    The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking of the temple of his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

    John 2:13-22

    The words “Cancel Culture” are often thrown around by journalists and by those in social media in recent years. Usually, you hear the words from those who have said something outrageous – or outrageously inappropriate, hateful, misogynistic, racist – and are dealing with the public shaming by calling those coming after them as evil and seeking their “cancelation.”

    Cancellation, by definition, is having one’s career ended for inappropriate behavior or comments. And while it occasionally happens (e.g. Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby), more often than not, people deal with a firestorm of public outrage for a while, and then return to work, with their livelihood intact. Just recently, one actress was complaining about “cancel culture” in an interview for getting fired from a show, even while having just signed on to the lead role in another film. She’s hardly canceled, but merely dealing with the public outrage for her public insensitivity.

    The issue is that what some had considered appropriate behavior in years past is becoming more and more scrutinized for its oppressive rhetoric, insensitive behavior, and hurtful language. 

    If we look at today’s Gospel through that lens, we see that the behavior of the money changers and the salespeople within the temple had become commonplace, and therefore accepted behavior. This was a normal occurrence: selling livestock in the temple, a temple dedicated to the God of Israel.

    And Jesus is outraged by this behavior. He attempts to call out those who are destroying his Father’s house. He turns over tables, he forms a whip from cords and chases them out of the temple. 

    Jesus is outraged. Because that which was offensive to God had become commonplace, and deemed appropriate. And Jesus wanted to “cancel” that behavior.

    And these people, driven from the temple, then ask, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Which is basically asking, “Who gives you the authority to question what we are doing?”

    This question by these money changers and livestock peddlers is essentially the same as those who complain about Cancel Culture. Rather than take the public outrage as a correction, and a chance to learn, they push back, attempting to prove their innocence. It’s not my fault; I did nothing wrong; why would someone do this to me; don’t they recognize that they are infringing on my right to live and make money?; I’m the victim here.

    And, just like those who deal with the outrage at their actions today, these people from the temple probably returned to their work in the temple the moment the threat of Jesus’ outrage had disappeared. 

    The bible doesn’t tell us that Jesus shut them down for good, just that he was outraged, and drove them from the temple. And human nature is such that we do not take correction easily, especially when money or our livelihood are on the line. And once Jesus, the one opposed to their work, had left them, they probably returned to their same practices and behaviors, selling livestock in the temple. They had weathered the public outrage, after all, and confronted Jesus with an accusation that he didn’t have the authority to do what he did, which is to say, they were claiming to be the victims in this scenario.

    And, we know, this outrage over Jesus’ outrageous behaviors, actions and words continued, progressing to the point of Jesus’ public humiliation, until the only person in the story that faced any real “cancelation” was Jesus himself, through his death on the cross.

    So what is our takeaway from all of this? No matter how good we think we are being, and no matter how well we manage to behave and interact with others on good terms, eventually someone will be outraged by what we say or do. 

    And, we can react like the money changers in the temple; we can go on the defensive; we can make the claim that we are the victims. This serves nothing but to escalate the situation. Or, we can learn from the interaction. It is very true that some people will take offense where none was intended. We may feel like we are being unjustly attacked, but a simple, “I’m sorry. I did not intend to offend. Please explain,” will go a long way to restoring peace.

    We know that Jesus’ death was not the end. Despite the actions of those seeking to kill Jesus, his death on the cross proved to be the moment at which reconciliation and peace were provided to all. If Jesus could humble himself “to become obedient to the point of death” (Philippians 2:1-18) to reconcile the enemies of God, then I’m sure that we can humble ourselves just long enough to seek understanding, before jumping into defensiveness and claiming we are being “canceled.”

    If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death — even death on a cross. Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure. Do all things without murmuring and arguing, so that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, in which you shine like stars in the world. It is by your holding fast to the word of life that I can boast on the day of Christ that I did not run in vain or labor in vain. But even if I am being poured out as a libation over the sacrifice and the offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you — and in the same way you also must be glad and rejoice with me.

    Philippians 2:1-18

  • Un(ash)amed

    Daily Office – Gospel ( Luke 18:19-14 )

    During a Bible study on Paul’s letter to the Colossians last night, we were discussing the persecution that Paul expected in his life, given his call to serve God. This then led to the question of whether anyone had ever experienced persecution or seen it in any form in their life. Given that we live in a country that claims its origins in the Christian faith, the likelihood of that seemed unlikely, but one of the participants mentioned that some people are afraid to even say a prayer of grace before a meal when eating in a restaurant to avoid people making fun of them. And then another piped up that that would never stop them from doing so.

    Naturally, the conversation turned toward a person’s motivation, and that some people pray in restaurants for show. We realized, of course, that this is not something that we ourselves can determine, just by viewing others pray, and that the question of motivation needs to come from the individual who is doing the praying.

    The Daily Office Gospel reading today starts off Lent with just that sort of call to self-examination, by recounting the story of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector who went to the temple to pray.

    He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

    Luke 18:9-14

    What motivates us to enter into these self-congratulatory states of inflated valuations of our own self-worth? We may indeed be better than some – by our own standards – but by our own standards we are also worse than others (Matt 7:1-2). Yet we still try and congratulate ourselves on our own righteousness, when standing before the God who reconciled us to Himself, no less. 

    In a country known for its abundance – and even its excesses – we often tend to view the abundant life that Jesus promised as one displayed in financial and material blessings, or the accumulation of power and prestige. And so, despite our better judgements, we view our state in life as having to do with the level of our own righteousness. And so we put that righteousness on display, just as our Pharisee in the Gospel reading today, because then others will know just how #blessed we truly are. We might not be ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but sometimes we are shameless. Shameless in our self-promotion. Shameless in displays of our own righteousness.

    We may flaunt pictures on social media of the ash on our foreheads (#ashwednesday) to be thankful for the work God has done for – and in – us, or we may display pictures of our ash covered foreheads to let others know the extent of our own righteousness. We may proudly walk around today, displaying our piety, or we may walk about humbly, ready to discuss our the joy of our salvation with anyone who asks why there’s a dirty smudge on our head.

    Only we will know our own motivations.

    But that’s the goal of Lent, isn’t it? To help us to look inward, to reflect upon our lives, and to determine whether we are seeking to remember that the work of our salvation comes from God alone. To help us determine that our worth comes not from anything that we can do, or anything that we have done, but instead that we have only been presented holy and blameless and irreproachable before God through Christ’s death (Col. 1:19-22).

  • Beacons and Bushels

    Daily Office Readings – ( Mark 4:21-34 )

    I’ve recently been working my way through the book “The Multiplying Church” by Bob Roberts, Jr. (Amazon Associates Link). There are many good ideas, suggestions, and admonitions to those of us who intend to spend time trying to raise up new followers of Christ. In the end, though, it seems that everything boils down to one simple thing: raise up people who love God and are passionate about their faith, because that sort of passion and excitement cannot be hidden.

    As I read through the Daily Office this morning, I ran across the question in Mark’s Gospel which reads, “Is a lamp brought in to be put under the bushel basket, or under the bed, and not on the lampstand?”

    You may remember the children’s song, “This little light of mine” and remember that when it comes to our faith, we are told that we are not to hide it under a bushel. 

    This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine (repeat 3 times).
    Let it shine all the time, let it shine, oh yeah.
    Hide it under a bushel, no!  I’m gonna let it shine (repeat 3 times).
    Let it shine all the time, let it shine, oh yeah.
    Don’t let Satan (blow) it out, I’m gonna let it shine (repeat 3 times).
    Let it shine all the time, let it shine, oh yeah.
    Shine around the neighbourhood, I’m gonna let it shine (repeat 3 times).
    Let it shine all the time, let it shine, oh yeah.

    “This Little Light of Mine.”

    In my opinion, we as churches, often do just that. In his book, Bob writes:

    For too long we have viewed church members as merely the funders of religious work and the volunteers to make Sunday happen instead of the totally wild spirits they really are. How we’ve approached the person in the pew in the past is insufficient to create a disciple who will be a part of a church multiplication culture. A church that multiplies churches will call on entrepreneurial people to be a part. People who are wild at heart and willing to risk in other areas of their lives come to church and find there’s not much adventure here. pp.106

    How sad that we’ve settled for a growing campus instead of striving for a transformed community. We’ve settled for what one person or a small group of leaders can do. A single preacher who is gifted enough in many areas can grow a big campus with his team. However, no preacher is “big” enough to see his community transformed without mobilizing the entire body of Christ into operation. pp.109

    To start a church that starts with the society, you have to redefine discipleship. Your new focus in discipleship is to connect the entire body of Christ in a community and literally open the church up to ministry. They will dream up the initiatives, and they will implement them. The primary function of the church is then helping people live what they’re already interested in doing (because of their job, experience, skills, etc.) more than driving an ill-fitting program. pp.122

    “The Multiplying Church,” Bob Roberts, Jr.

    When we are confronted with an excited individual who wishes to get involved, and we try to squeeze them into existing ministries that our church has rather than taking a look at a new idea of theirs, then we have started to extinguish a light. 

    Sometimes, asking people to jump into an existing ministry works, but more often it doesn’t. People may be excited about their faith, but that excitement fades when they are told to embrace the constraints and guidelines of an existing ministry merely because “we’ve always done it this way at this church.” That vetted ministry may have been dying for a reason, and throwing a new and excited individual at it will probably not bring it back to life, because their creativity and passion will have been saddled with a vision that is not their own.

    If we really take on this idea that God has prepared people in our churches for ministry – ministry outside the path of ordination – then we need to be willing to let them start things up and run with them, giving them as much support as possible.

    If it fails, so be it. The ministry gets shut down.

    If it takes off, so much the better. Over the years it becomes another one of those things that “this church has always done.” Until the person who originally started it moves on, dies, or loses interest. Unless there is someone who shares the passion and vision for the ministry, it’s probably best to shut it down, because it may very well have served its purpose, and something new is on the horizon.

    If we are the type to look inward, then we will look for every conceivable way to keep this ministry alive, even after its time has passed. We will pull, poke, prod, and cajole others to take over the ministry, simply because we don’t want to see it die. 

    Over my years in ministry, both as an ordained minister and as a volunteer, I’ve watched the light go out in people as those in charge have put a bushel over their excitement and passion. I’ve witnessed as someone had an exciting vision for reaching a local college, only to be told that what they had in mind would require the church to pay more for cleaning, would interfere with events that served the existing members, and would require too much in the way of logistics. And then they were asked that if they were interested in ministry, wouldn’t they like to learn to run the sound board? Never mind that this wasn’t in their skill set, their spiritual gift mix, or even their passions. I could literally see the fire go out, the light get quenched. That is hiding the word of God under a bushel.

    On the flipside, there are those that tend to look outward, outside of the church. I’ve seen someone come up, with the same excitement, with the same passion, throwing out a creative idea for ministry to the local community. And watched as the pastor fanned the flame of their excitement, listening intently to what they were saying, excitedly adding new ideas. And then, telling the person matter of factly, “I will support you in any way I can. You can use the church resources as needed. Check in with me weekly for now, then monthly. We’ll evaluate in six months, and see what needs to happen next.” That person went out and grew a new ministry  – with the help of the church – that served the local community, and it has since become a staple of the church’s outreach. 

    For those in charge of churches, groups, congregations, “This little light of mine” is not just about your own personal witness, but includes the witness and excitement of those under your care. 

    There may be legitimate reasons, you might think, for shutting down an excited member. Perhaps there are. In my experience, however, those reasons are all based in some form of pride or fear. They come from not wanting to share the spotlight with those whom God has placed in their path. They come from wanting to control the outcome of everything at the church, so as to show how well they have grown what God has given them, or to keep things from falling apart.

    It may be human nature to live like that, but we are not called to be like those in the world around us. Instead, we are called to emulate Christ, who took a band of uneducated country folk, and turned the world upside down because he was willing to humble himself, even to dying on a cross, and then letting his disciples build on his mission and vision.

  • The Hand Of God

    Daily Office Readings – Gospel ( John 5:30-47 )

    This past week I had been listening to a sermon by Fr. Terry McGugan from Christ Church Denver. At one point in the sermon he looks out to the congregation and speaks directly to some of the parishioners and tells them they are the church. This is something that I have heard repeatedly in sermons by various pastors, in different forms, but with the same general idea: if God will act in this world, he will act through us. The hand of God is you. The Church is us. A retired priest at one church I attended used the phrase, “The Second Coming of Christ isn’t so much something that happens to us, but something that happens through us.”

    This comment about how each of us is the church forced me to think a bit more about ecclesiology, or the nature and structure of the church, when viewed in the context of theology. Because I’ve been a part of several churches throughout the years, both denominational and non-denominational, I stopped to think about some of the ways people have expressed church structure and organization to me.

    When people have seen the church as an extension of God, the church has taken on the nature of whichever trait of God they see as most relevant or important. If they see God as a divine judge, then the church was viewed as an extension of God’s judgment. When they saw God as commander and warrior, the church focused more heavily on nationalistic and patriotic themes. When people saw the church more of an extension of the Holy Spirit, the church took on the role as purveyor of miracles in the world, as humanity’s defenders against the powers of darkness, or the distributors of God’s wisdom through prophetic messages they’ve received from God. When the people see the church as more of an extension of Christ, it seems they’ve seen themselves as defenders of the poor, and perhaps as those sacrificing themselves for others against the backdrop of the rich seeking to exploit those around them.

    Which then led me to wonder, is ecclesiology more of an extension of theology, pneumatology, or christology?

    I think the answer is “Yes.”

    God is a warrior, a commander, but also the sacrificial lamb. God is the divine judge, the final arbiter of truth, but also the source of mercy and grace. God displays power through miracles and divine messages, but also through the rather mundane consequences of our decisions and actions. God is present when someone helps out those less fortunate, but God is equally as present when a rich person comes to understand the love of God.

    Focusing on these various aspects of God when attempting to shape our churches is what makes us human, and what helps to make God known to those around us. Each church or denomination may have a different focus, but when all are taken together it gives a clearer picture of who God is, and what God is attempting to do in the world. At various times, and in various places, different representations of God in the world will provide all those who are seeking the Divine to understand another aspect of who God is.

    Some people attend charismatic or pentecostal churches because they need to see the miraculous to understand a God that provides healing, or understands them deeply, beyond what they share of themselves with the world. Some people attend churches that focus on social justice because they need to see a God that serves up justice and cares for the oppressed. Some attend legalistic churches because they need to experience order and clear cut rules amidst an otherwise chaotic life. And each of these churches provides an aspect of God to the world.

    I do not think it wrong to have churches that focus on one aspect of God more than another, but I do think that we are doing a disservice to one another when we attempt to call out other collections of believers for failing to believe as we do, for failing to make our focus their focus. They may have been called to focus on another aspect of God in their work in this world, while we may have been called to another. To believe that others are not following or sharing God because they do not focus on the same aspect of God that we do is hubris, and brings us closer to our own downfall.

    As I read this morning’s Daily Office, Jesus’ comments to the Jewish leadership helped to clarify my thinking. When Jesus confronts the leaders on their inability to accept him, he is speaking politically. The extent of his rejection by the leaders of the day is well known. And the rejection of Christ by the leaders of the day is a direct result of failing to acknowledge the literal hand of God standing in their midst. Why? Because they saw their way of organizing religion as the only way; as the right way. It was their desire to maintain their power by refusing to acknowledge the work of God in their midst that eventually found their work, their power, and their prestige diminishing.

    At the point that they were having this conversation with Jesus, they were the church; the spiritual foundation of the day. Imagine the work they could have done if they had acknowledged Jesus and joined with him to do the work he had come to do? 

    Of course, this leaves me with some cognitive dissonance, because there are churches that I disagree with; whose focus is clearly different from mine, and where I might not even feel we are worshipping the same God. But I need to remind myself that even these churches are God’s hand in the world, and are serving a purpose that I may not currently understand.

  • Thanksgrumping

    Daily Office Readings

    Psalm: 126
    In convertendo
    1 When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion,  *
          then were we like those who dream.
    2 Then was our mouth filled with laughter,  *
          and our tongue with shouts of joy.
    3 Then they said among the nations,  *
          “The LORD has done great things for them.”
    4 The LORD has done great things for us,  *
          and we are glad indeed.
    5 Restore our fortunes, O LORD,  *
          like the watercourses of the Negev.
    6 Those who sowed with tears  *
          will reap with songs of joy.
    7 Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed,  *
          will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.

    This is the time of year when the advertisements on television and on the internet turn to telling viewers how much the company is thankful for us, the consumer. It’s the Thanksgiving season after all, and they probably should be thanking the people who line their purses with cash. Usually, their thankfulness takes the form of a discount on their products, so that we recognize that they are 75% as thankful for us during the holiday sale season as they are during the regularly priced season.

    This is also the time of the year that social media posts, blog entries, and sermons tend toward encouraging us to give thanks for our blessings, both for what we have, and what we have experienced. Often, these posts and sermons want us to reflect upon our lives and to count our blessings, one by one. 

    Pscha

    It’s always easier for me to count my blessings when things are going well for me. And a whole lot harder for me to count those same blessings when life takes a turn for the worse.

    Years ago, one of the pastors I knew used to talk about the phrase “under these circumstances” and then ridicule it, asking people, “What are you doing under the circumstances in the first place?” This whole mini-conversation was intended to bring up the idea that good Christians were always supposed to be people who overcome, who transcend the current physical plane with the joy of God’s love in every situation. Dying of cancer? Merely a circumstance to be transcended with joy. Just lost your mother or father? Praise be to the Creator that they are with God now; no need at all to weep or mourn, because you should be living in the joy of their resurrection.

    It was a denial of our emotions, a dismissal of our pain, intended to show people that a faith in God would transcend this mortal life and help us to always see the good and the beautiful; to always seek the counting of blessings.

    It was sick. 
    It was bullshit.

    Even Jesus wept.

    For me, these past few months in particular feel like the culmination of several bad years, all strung together with bailing wire and duct tape. It’s the final cherry on top of a string of events that have caused me to weep, to mourn, to fume in anger and cower in fear. I certainly have not been transcending – at least not every day. Some days – some weeks – I grumble, I grouse and I grump.

    Given my attitude, I count my blessings in the only way I know how, to thank God that I am blessed with being grumpy, because it reminds me that I am alive, that I feel. I thank God that I have the blessing of being able to mourn, the ability to feel anger, because it means I am still passionate enough to protest the injustices in this world. I thank God for the blessings of occupying a life that falls short of living within my calling, and takes on the mere shadow of the life I know I am to experience, because each moment of a shadow life translates into a life of more completeness when it comes to the light. I thank God for the blessing of being unhappy, because I know that eventually the joy shall return, and each moment of unhappiness is a seed of joy planted in the darkness of night.

    Today’s Psalm shows us the joyful and triumphant return of the Israelites to their own land, after exile in Babylon. They have been restored, they have been brought back to fully engaging and living out their glory as the chosen children of God. But they spent years, decades, living in the uncertainty of not knowing whether they would ever see the joy of their own homeland again.

    I’m sure they grumbled. I’m sure they sat on the banks of the river and wept, as they remembered.

    And that was okay.

    Sometimes it’s perfectly acceptable to sit in the stew, to sit in the pain, to sit in the anger, because even these things are a blessing. Or perhaps, when we realize that these experiences eventually will be a blessing.