Category: Things I Read Somewhere

Thoughts from books I’ve read, or articles I’ve come across.

  • Let Us Rejoice And Be Glad

    Just this morning I ran across an old Facebook post on someone’s timeline. By old, I mean about three months old. It was of a letter from a political candidate who was predicting food shortages, lack of police officers; basically, general chaos moving into the fall and winter of 2021. The predictions were the typical fear-mongering, laced with a smattering of Biblical references to make the whole thing sound like the coming Apocalypse, and that this was prophecy. Cue the air raid claxons and the faint voices of monks chanting in the background.

    The post, the letter itself was not what irritated me. Although, irritated is probably not the best word. Disappointment, perhaps. I was disappointed that the person posting this has a Ph.D. in psychology (a profession meant to help people through lies and anxiety) and was a self-proclaimed evangelical Christian. And I was disappointed that the people responding to this were not just acknowledging the nonsense in the letter, but were adding to it, with nonsensical ideas and accusations that were clearly based in fiction and unprovable alternative facts. Not a single person in the post comments seemed to suggest that this was nonsense, and that perhaps the facts showed a reality contrary to this prediction. It was like I had stepped into a virtual room full of conspiracists, all claiming that what they were believing was somehow God’s warning to stay strong in the faith and avoid the all consuming fires of the antiChrist.

    Everyone in the comments was clearly choosing to accept the fear, and willing to live in a state of panic and heightened anxiety. And, as normally happens when people give in to fear, they then became angry, and their comments began to target those that they felt deserved their rage. In this case, the present administration, the nebulous “left wing liberals,” and all the godless. It was a collection of angry people, smoldering with self-righteous indignation, living in fear.

    I believe that there is a reason that the Bible tells people not to be afraid – in some form or another – multiple times. The most obvious verses that come to mind are Isaiah 41:10 and Philippians 4:6-7. Some Christians focus on the dangers and the horrors of “how the world ends,” and this then leads them into anger, and possibly even violence and illegal activities.1 If the danger of living in fear is that it leads to hate,2 then there is every reason that we should seek to find ways to live outside of our fear, to live in God’s peace, even if that peace only manifests itself within our selves, despite the raging chaos of the world around us.

    In my life, I’ve run across a few people who seem to be unmoved by the events of life around them, completely unflappable when it comes to life’s cruelties and exacerbations. Despite what happens to them, they will turn to you and say, “Praise God.” Now, this isn’t to say that they fail to do anything about the evil they see in the world, but only that they do not let that evil cause them to wallow in despair, or live in fear and anger. Instead, they draw upon a deep well of peace and look at you and say, “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his mercy endures forever,” and also, “The Lord is at my side, therefore I will not fear; what can anyone do to me?” And finally, despite what is happening in their lives or in the world around them, they still manage to say, “This is the day that the LORD has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118). And it is in that peace that they work to make the world a better place, a world full of peace and one in which Love is made manifest.

    Now, not all of us have found that well of peace, but we would do well to search for it, and to draw on it when we can. Especially when confronted with misinformation and lies that seek to put us into a state of panic, fear, and anger. We may not find that deep well in every situation, but if we search for the ways in which God has made the day, and ways in which we can rejoice in it, despite the cares of this world, then maybe we too will be able to find ways to push forward God’s agenda in this world, rather than the agendas of those seeking to manipulate our fears and our “righteous” indignation.

    1 O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever!
    2 Let Israel say, “His steadfast love endures forever.”
    3 Let the house of Aaron say, “His steadfast love endures forever.”
    4 Let those who fear the LORD say, “His steadfast love endures forever.”
    5 Out of my distress I called on the LORD; the LORD answered me and set me in a broad place.
    6 With the LORD on my side I do not fear. What can mortals do to me?
    7 The LORD is on my side to help me; I shall look in triumph on those who hate me.
    8 It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to put confidence in mortals.
    9 It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to put confidence in princes.
    10 All nations surrounded me; in the name of the LORD I cut them off!
    11 They surrounded me, surrounded me on every side; in the name of the LORD I cut them off!
    12 They surrounded me like bees; they blazed like a fire of thorns; in the name of the LORD I cut them off!
    13 I was pushed hard, so that I was falling, but the LORD helped me.
    14 The LORD is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation.
    15 There are glad songs of victory in the tents of the righteous: “The right hand of the LORD does valiantly;
    16 the right hand of the LORD is exalted; the right hand of the LORD does valiantly.”
    17 I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the LORD.
    18 The LORD has punished me severely, but he did not give me over to death.
    19 Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter through them and give thanks to the LORD.
    20 This is the gate of the LORD; the righteous shall enter through it.
    21 I thank you that you have answered me and have become my salvation.
    22 The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone.
    23 This is the LORD’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes.
    24 This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
    25 Save us, we beseech you, O LORD! O LORD, we beseech you, give us success!
    26 Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD. We bless you from the house of the LORD.
    27 The LORD is God, and he has given us light. Bind the festal procession with branches, up to the horns of the altar.
    28 You are my God, and I will give thanks to you; you are my God, I will extol you.
    29 O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever.

    Psalm 118, NRSV

    1. There are some very well researched articles that cover the reach of fear-based misinformation and the Christian mind, here, and here.
    2. “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.” – Master Yoda
  • (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

    “Too many of you are competing to sit at a table that Jesus would have flipped over.”

    Some random meme

    Recently, that meme popped up on my Facebook feed, and I had to pause for a minute to reflect on it. It wasn’t funny enough to chuckle at and maybe share; it wasn’t stupid enough to shake my head at and just scroll on by; and it certainly wasn’t obscure enough to scratch my head at and simply move on.

    Instead, it actually made me stop and think about this imagined table at which some of us supposedly want to sit.

    The references we have to Jesus turning over tables is in Matthew 21:12-13, in Mark 11:15-18, in Luke 19:45-46, and in John 2:13-17. Both those event speak to Jesus’ attempt to quit making religion a money making endeavor; making money at the expense of those who sought God, by placing ridiculous requirements upon the visiting people and the sacrifices they brought to the temple. Sacrifices the people were making, I might add, to place themselves into a right relationship with God. And if those sacrifices were deemed unacceptable, then they were turned away and told to buy something else, so they could bring a better sacrifice.

    It was a ploy of ever expanding requirements. Requirements that made money, by way of a circular pattern of greed and self-interest between the priests and the merchants and money lenders.

    And Jesus wanted to make sure that everyone understood that this scheme of self-interest and greed was not what God intended. God intended for all people to come to him freely, without requirements; and certainly not behind a paywall. But this act, some scholars believe, is what upset the leadership the most, and what ultimately led to his arrest and crucifixion. More so because it simultaneously attacked both the religious and economic power structures.

    Unless we run some form of televised mega church, most of us don’t want to be at a table that sells religious baubles under the guise of donations and pseudo-righteousness. Nor do we want to retain our power by forcing people to jump through more and more hoops

    But tables that feed into the political and economic power structure of any institution clearly do exist. And those sitting at it – and more importantly, those desiring to get a seat at the table – are not so ready to give up what those seats represent. These seats hold the power to shape the institution, to define the future power structures, and to ensure a continuity of one’s own way of thinking.

    It’s no wonder that people like to hold on to those seats. And like to make it difficult for others to get a seat at the table, in a ploy of ever expanding requirements.

    But for both the holder and the seeker of those seats, it comes down to a simple question. Is the motivation to sit at the table one driven by the desire for control, for power? Or is the motivation driven by an understanding of one’s own gifts and talents, and putting those to use? If it is the latter, it should be simple to determine that the time for new talents and new gifts might be needed, and to step away from the table, opening up a seat.

    After all, real power comes in giving it away.

    A fearful thought – giving away power – if our motivation is not as pure as we would like.

    And if our motivation is not so pure, then it is quite true that the table we are competing to sit at is, in fact, one that Jesus would flip over.

  • When God Becomes Routine

    Just recently, I had the opportunity to get away. To get outside of my normal location, my normal responsibilities, my normal routine. I could ignore my phone, and never powered up my laptop. I was able to get up when I wanted, and go to bed when I was tired. I tweaked my hot sauce recipes, I ate foods I don’t normally do. And, in the mornings, I sat on a patio with a large cup of coffee watching nature until I felt like doing something else.

    It was wonderful. It was refreshing. It recharged me, both physically and especially spiritually.

    When I got home I had energy to go on a cleaning spree. Energy to do maintenance on both my bicycles. And when I went on my bike ride, I felt compelled to stop and enjoy the flowers on the bike path, rather than pushing myself to improve my health or lose some of the extra pounds that have sneakily added themselves to my frame over the years.

    But as things often go, my routine, normal, every day was disrupted in a very different way come Monday morning. Something went wrong with our business partner’s technology, and we were suddenly inundated with calls. When normally we handle about three phone calls from our clients each day, we were suddenly handling almost forty calls, all while trying to do our normal work. It was the sort of break in routine that was the complete opposite of what I had just experienced on my little getaway. It was a far cry from relaxing, and I had the patience and presence of mind to deal with it more appropriately only because of my mini-getaway. And yet, despite the extra presence of mind, I felt those moments from the retreat already slipping away, and the jagged edges of reality starting to find their way into my normal again.


    Last year, during the pandemic, I started a Morning Prayer service over Zoom with some of the people at my church. We’ve been meeting regularly online now for almost a year, and yet, just the other day, I noticed that the antiphons for the canticles, regardless of the season of the year, all end with “Come let us adore him” (BCP, pg 81). 

    What struck me is that during the routine morning prayer meetings, and our consistent routine of praying the office, I had never noticed that before. Perhaps it came to me that day because the Psalm appointed for the day was Psalm 136, which ends each verse with “For his mercy endures forever.” The repetition of the Psalm may have primed me to see the repetition of the antiphon endings in the Morning Prayer office. 

    But what I found interesting that day was that the repetition of Psalm 136 describes God’s movement toward us, and the repetition in the antiphons shows us our movement of response toward God. God’s mercy endures forever, and therefore, “Come let us adore him.” 

    What struck me even on that day was the likelihood that we might not come and adore God, because while God’s mercy and love never fail, our love for God can, and does.

    And this is why we take retreats, and seek to get away, and look for ways to refresh and renew our mind, our body, and our spirit.


    The stark contrast between my beautiful weekend and the reality of Monday morning made me aware of how easy it is to lose the peaceful nature of those moments away from routine, and I wondered how beautiful it would be to experience those moments I experienced on the retreat in the normal routine of my life. I wondered if it would be possible to live in the mindset of the retreat in every moment.

    I had gotten away because my normal everyday had turned into routine, and I wanted a change. 

    I had also failed to see things about adoring God in the Morning Prayer office because my prayer life had become a bit routine.

    And yet, I only saw those things in the Morning Prayer office because my prayer life had become routine.

    And I only failed to see the beauty in my everyday because I was focused on the routine, my dislike of it, and my desire for a change, rather than on those moments of joy that pop up in each of our lives.

    The issue is the object of my focus. 

    Is the object of my routine God, or is the object of my routine me?


    Late last night, after looking at the stressful first two days of this week, and contemplating this contrast between the joys of a getaway and the stress of my day to day, I decided now would be a great time to read “The Practice of the Presence of God,” by Brother Lawrence1, who’s simple prayer was this:

    Lord of all pots and pans and things…

    Make me a saint by getting meals

    And washing up the plates!

    And through which he managed to make even the most boring and mundane of tasks a song of Joy to his Creator.

    1. This is an Amazon Associates Link; I will receive a penny or two if you purchase this title.
  • lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi

    In the last few weeks, I’ve been spending quite a bit of time enjoying a podcast which replays many of the episodes of Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen’s radio and television show entitled “Life Is Worth Living.” In one episode, Bishop Sheen says the words, “If we do not live as we think, we will soon think as we live.” In other words, you must take heed to conform your life to that which you believe, so that you do not end up believing those things that suit the way you live.

    Earlier today, I decided to head over to the Episcopal Church Foundation for Vital Practices (ECFVP) to see what I could find regarding resources for anti-racism training or racial justice. While there, I decided to pop in to see the updates to their blog section, and ran across this blog from which I’ve stolen my title: lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi. This translates to “the law of prayer is the law of believing, which is the law of living,” or more clearly, “what we pray for, determines how we live.” Or stated in the reverse, “we live according to our beliefs, and what we believe is expressed in our prayer.”

    Many of us, in the days following the riot and attack on the capitol building on January 6th of this year, have come to wonder how people who claim to know Jesus could have ended up storming the capitol with the intent of causing harm to those within its walls. Causing harm, when the Jesus they claim to follow expresses the mandate to “love your neighbor,” and “pray for your enemies.” Nowhere does Christ seem to indicate that violently beating your enemies with a flagpole is the way of love, nor even something he wants his followers to do.

    In trying to decipher why some people would believe the lies that led them to think that they were standing up for God’s will, I ran across an interview with Elizabeth Neumann, a former top official at the Department of Homeland Security who resigned from the Trump administration in April 2020. In this interview, regarding the adherence of so many Evangelical Christians to conspiracy theories, she states:

    There was a big movement in the ’90s called Seeker-Friendly Churches. Willow Creek [one of the most prominent of these churches] did a self-assessment about 10 or 15 years ago, and one of the things that they found is while they had converted people to Christians, there was a lack of growth in their faith. They were not learning the scriptures. They were not engaged in community. They were not discipling anybody. And [Willow Creek’s] assessment was: We failed. We baptized some people, but they’re not actually maturing.

    One of my questions is: Are we seeing in the last four years one of the consequences of that failure? They didn’t mature [in their faith], and they’re very easily led astray by what scripture calls “false teachers.” My thesis here is that if we had a more scripturally based set of believers in this country — if everybody who calls themselves a “Christian” had actually read through, I don’t know, 80 percent of the Bible — they would not have been so easily deceived.

    – Elizabeth Neumann

    “They would not have been so easily deceived.” Meaning that they found something to believe in, and what they believed led them to live in a manner that justified committing violence against not only their country, but their fellow citizens. Which then just begs the question, How -or about what – were these rioters praying?

    A couple months ago, I wrote a blog about how every denomination or believer remains the Hand of God, even if they focus on an aspect of God that is different from our own focus of God’s attributes. I was thinking more in terms of the charismatic, legalistic, social justice, or monastic threads of the faith, and not in terms of those who commit violence. If I were to write that same blog entry again, I would point out that those who focus on the charismatic, the social justice, or the monastic attributes of God, among others, can still come together and agree on the need to love God, and love neighbor, despite differences in worship style or worship emphasis. 

    A few weeks ago, I was speaking with the priest of my parish, and we were discussing the riots at the capitol. I mentioned that there were people at the capitol who claimed to be Christians, and how these people claim to believe the same God that I do. I mentioned that these rioters had faith in something to such a degree that they were willing to storm the capitol and commit violence on behalf of that belief. He responded that yes, they may have believed something enough to act on it, but “their faith is different than mine.”

    Which brings us back to the question: for what, or how, were these capitol rioters praying? What were they praying for, such that their beliefs allowed for violence? 

    In the ECFVP blog entry mentioned above, the author, Ranjit Matthews points out that “Our purposeful alignment then with God in prayer is critical to the enjoining of our will with God’s.” Our very job in prayer is to seek out God’s will in the world, and to align our will to God’s will. If we seek to bend God’s will to our own, or merely spend time praying for our will to be done through God’s mighty power, then we have already failed to understand the necessity of making God the Lord of our lives, and instead we find ourselves seeking to make our lives the lord of our God.

    “There are ultimately only two possible adjustments to life; one is to suit our lives to principles; the other is to suit principles to our lives. If we do not live as we think, we soon begin to think as we live. The method of adjusting moral principles to the way men live is just a perversion of the order of things.”

    – Fulton J Sheen
  • 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.

  • Rest(ive)

    The other night, I enjoyed the beautiful sunset and the cooler weather by making a fire in the fire pit. As I sat there, I recognized suddenly that I was restless. My mind was occupied with far too many things; I simply could not distance myself enough from my thoughts in order to relax. The scenery was beautiful, the fire seductive. But still, my mind simply would not allow me to rest.

    It was this recognition that reminded me of the famous and often quoted phrase by St. Augustine:

    Evenings at the fire pit.

    “You have made us for yourself, oh Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you.”

    Strange that.
    I was restless.

    This quote by Augustine describes the state of our hearts until we find God, and come to believe – directed by our joy of praising the Divine. It is intended to show the peace that comes from knowing, and following God.

    But I have already found God. So why all this restlessness?

    Of course, this isn’t exactly the right question to ask.

    God has told us that there will be trouble in this life (John 16:33). But also, he told of the coming troubles we would experience in order that we could have peace. This peace is the same as the rest that Augustine speaks about. It is a confidence in the work that God is doing which allows us to rest in the knowledge that God’s plans will unfold despite what we may see happening around us in the world.

    All of what is happening is moving toward the final end, toward the final reconciliation of all of humanity with God. Anything that happens along the way is merely a speed bump on the way to that majestic and apocalyptic conclusion. God is still in control, and our troubling experiences are intended to draw us closer to God.

    Only it just doesn’t always feel that way. Because our troubles may make us think that our own little world is reaching its end, or our troubles may feel like the end of the world is near. That’s why the restlessness.

    So the better question to ask is “Why am I not resting in God?” And the connected question, “What am I trying to hold on to, and not hand over to God?” It is the answer to these questions that allow us to hand off our troubles to God and to rest in the assurance that God’s plans are unfolding with a purpose of moving us closer to God, and our lives closer to the final end.

    Again, easier said than done.

    But, our restlessness is an opportunity for us to once again “find our rest in God.” Each moment of restlessness, of trouble, of testing, allows us to push through the difficult questions until we see a brand new face of God. It allows us to experience a new facet of God that we have not experienced before. It allows God to become bigger, fuller, and more inclusive of all our fears, troubles, and peccadilloes. 

    The Apostle Paul tells us that once the veil is lifted from our eyes after we have turned to God, and that then we will be transformed from Glory to Glory. 

    17 Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18 And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.

    (2 Cor. 3:17-18)

    Then the transformation begins. Slowly, and often painfully. And most definitely, restlessly.

    While I didn’t come to find any rest by the fire that night, the slow realization of what I had been holding on to, what had been keeping me from resting in God, solidified a few days later. And then, having drawn near to the spirit of God, I found freedom.

    And Rest.

  • Practicality

    Abba Sisoes said: Seek God, and not where God lives.

    Desert Wisdom, Sayings From the Desert Fathers, p 3

    In seminary, one of the women I knew wanted to get married and start a family. It didn’t matter who the man was. She wanted to get married with such a singular clarity of focus that those of us who knew her could feel the energy toward that goal flowing from her no matter what we were doing at the moment.

    She would go on dates with anyone who asked her, and she would continue dating them until she pushed the question on whether the men could see this becoming more than simply a dating relationship – most often sooner than the men had time to realize they were even in a long term relationship. Invariably, most men would say “No” because they felt rushed, and didn’t want to feel pushed into making a decision.  Until, one day, she found a man who said “Yes.” And then they ended up married. She dropped all of her classes and took up the mantle of being a “good” girlfriend, then wife, then mother.

    In some ways, you can say that her singular devotion to finding a husband was commendable, because in the end she got what she wanted and didn’t waver until she accomplished her task. You might even say she was determined, and a strong woman.

    For those of us who knew her, we could only watch from the sidelines with difficulty. It was obvious that she was looking for anyone who didn’t want to leave her. I phrase it like this, because it seemed like the decision was based more around future safety than a choice. She didn’t end up with someone who chose her, but instead with someone who feared her leaving him as much as she seemed to fear being alone.

    Why am I telling this story? Especially when it seems I should be talking about seeking God?

    Because relationships are weird. 

    And a relationship with God is not supposed to be a friends-with-benefits arrangement, nor is it supposed to be settling for someone out of fear of being left out in the cold alone. Or in this case, the heat.

    Blaise Pascal, the French mathematician came up with a thought exercise concerning the existence of God. A quick summary is this: if people believe in God, and they are wrong, then no harm has come their way, and life continues as it is. But if they believe in God, and they are right, then they would go to heaven after death.

    The trouble with this viewpoint is that it seeks to benefit from faith without putting any work into it. It looks for safety, it looks for rescue and the salvation from eternal damnation, rather than a relationship with God. It is purely practical. Practical, with the intention of achieving the greatest benefit for ourselves without really putting any effort into the relationship that God desires from us.

    When we view life through this idea of what we want to attain, then everything becomes a calculus of appropriate actions and reactions, of right deeds, and wrong deeds. Our motivation is that we want to avoid eternal damnation no matter what. It’s not about God, but about our own desire. Our entire lives can be broken down into the concept that what matters most is what I get out of the relationship, rather than what I put into it. Said differently: what we desire is more important than who we desire.

    When it comes to human relationships, it’s often easy to detect that something is off between people, that there’s some underlying feeling that is missing. But when it comes to our relationship with God, we can often confuse activity with relationship. I go to church, therefore I’ve spent time with God. I volunteer at the food bank. I help cook for church potlucks, I belong to various committees and attend meetings regularly, I usher, I serve at the altar, and therefore, I have spent time with God.

    But all of that is activity. I can go to church, and refuse to be moved by the sermon or by the liturgy. I can volunteer at the food bank, but look with disdain at all the people I am “helping.” I can spend time on various committees and push my own political agenda instead of spending time in prayer with others to determine what might be the best course of action for the church. I can usher or serve at the altar, and do it just to be seen, rather than doing it to serve God and others. All that activity can be empty, and devoid of any meaning other than helping to make us look and feel good.

    If we wish to seek God, then we need to examine whether what we are doing is intended for our own benefit, or because we wish to draw near to God.

    Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.

    James 4:8

  • Pinch Me

    Some old men came to see Abba Poemen, and said to him: Tell us, when we see brothers dozing during the sacred office, should we pinch them so they will stay awake? The old man said to them: Actually, if I saw a brother sleeping, I would put his head on my knees and let him rest.

    Desert Wisdom, Sayings From the Desert Fathers, p 17

    This morning I am feeling exhausted. I’ve had conversations with people about the spiritual soul-searching they are experiencing because of the protests and debates of the last few weeks; my own personal grappling with the same; additional stress and obligations at work; and some unexpected spiritual concerns that seem to have arisen out of nowhere. I’m physically tired, and more than just a bit emotionally run down. The idea of laying my head on someone’s knees and resting while someone else is watching out for any interruptions or dangers sounds fantastic. The idea of allowing my mind to rest and be free of distractions for just one hour sounds even better.

    In today’s culture of constant motion, it seems that the only way to make time for rest – mental, spiritual, or physical – is to forcibly remove ourselves from our jobs, our ministries, and our families by shutting off all our devices and retreating to the wilderness. It seems like that is the only way to slow things down enough to allow our thoughts to collect.

    The thing is, I could get rid of most of these distractions, since for the most part, I have permitted them the space in my life. Other distractions are not so easy to get rid of. Some come from work, some come from ministry, and others are simply unavoidable, such as family obligations or emergencies. 

    But even then, these obligations may not be a hardship, because we love our family and care for those in our ministries. They may take our time and distract us from things we may wish to do for ourselves, but they are things that we have gladly taken upon ourselves. And, of course, they can be dealt with through proper self care.

    But there’s more to this little story of a tired brother. There is so much more wrapped up into the simple idea of pinching the brother so that he stays awake during the sacred office. So many ideas of what it means to be right and holy.

    Some people place demands upon others for a level of holiness that can never be attained. And, what’s worse, they believe there should be some punishment for failing to live up to those standards. There is no attempt at understanding what the other has experienced. There is no attempt to see things from another point of view. There is no desire to see things outside of the viewpoint of what is right, and how it should be.

    This past Sunday, the Gospel message included the words of Jesus, saying 

    “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

    I am gentle.
    I am humble of heart. 
    My yoke is easy.
    My burden is light.

    Abba Poemen had it right. He took things at face value. We cannot ever know what another is going through unless we have shared their lives and understood their situation. If a brother says that he is tired, or that brother is already asleep, then all we can understand is that our brother needs rest. If a brother is angry, saddened, bitter, or spiritually numb, we can only take things at face value and understand that he is angry, sad, bitter, or spiritually numb.

    Our job is to be gentle of heart, to be humble, and to provide a rest for their souls. 

    No pinching.

  • The Heavy Burden

    Daily Office Readings – Gospel ( Luke 13:10-17 )

    These past few weeks have seen a lot of protests concerning the persistent racism in this country. Those protesting have pointed out that the amount of racism hasn’t changed, but what has changed is that technology has helped to bring it to the light.

    One of the posts on my Facebook feed recently was an article about three police officers who were fired after their patrol car camera recorded their discussions about wanting to kill black people in a coming civil war, and denigrating fellow officers who were black. After they were dismissed and the situation came to light, one of them said that he is “not a racist,” and “doesn’t normally speak like that,” but that he was just “feeding off of” the other officer.

    This police officer jumped head first into self-justification, making the claim that essentially amounts to “but it wasn’t my fault, because __________________.” This captures the essence of what we all jump at when confronted with our own shortcomings.

    After last week’s post, I decided to reread “Desert Wisdom” and ran across a saying from Abba John, the Little:

    “We have abandoned a light burden, namely self-criticism, and taken up a heavy burden, namely self-justification.”

    Desert Wisdom, Sayings From the Desert Fathers, p 7

    We attempt to diminish our own responsibility for the things we have done. We expect people to understand our situations because we have explained away our behavior as something caused by external forces and by things beyond our control.

    This is that heavy burden. Because when we seek to justify ourselves we have to look at the truth of the situation and are confronted with the very real and stark truth that we screwed up. Our moral compass has decided to spin like a fan, when instead it should have been pointing diligently in the direction of the right, and the good.

    When we choose to justify, we are required to ignore the truth. Every justification becomes another little lie, a lie of omission, that we pile upon our backs, to be dealt with on another day. And we don’t dare put down the pack to look at these things, because then we will need to confront them all over again. And the more we justify, the heavier the burden becomes, until at some point all of our actions and decisions in life are guided by these untruths we tell ourselves in order to feel better.

    When the Jewish leaders called out Jesus for healing a woman on the Sabbath, he simply looked at them and called them hypocrites, because they too were used to working on the sabbath by taking their livestock to feed and to drink. To their credit, rather than giving him some sort of excuse as to why they did these things, they were “put to shame.” In other words, they realized their guilt.

    Will we be caught? Will we be called out for the heavy burden we carry, or will we choose to pull them down off of our backs and examine them until we come to an understanding of our own shortcomings and wrestle with them until we have defeated them? More often than not, it takes being caught, or being called out, before we even realize the little lies we have been telling ourselves.

    But once we have been made aware, once we have come to accept this criticism of our very selves, then we can move on, and the load we carry will truly be lighter.

  • God is Here

    Daily Office Readings – Gospel ( Matthew 19:23-30 )

    Yesterday’s Gospel reading dealt with a rich young man who wanted to know what he needed to do in order to receive eternal life. When Jesus told the young man that he needed to sell all his possessions and follow him, the young man went away sad, because he was rich. This story then leads into today’s gospel reading, which has Jesus telling his disciples that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.

    We like to focus on the money aspect of this passage, because, after all, Jesus said that we had to give away all of our money and follow him. One of the things that I found weird about this passage, though, was that in the ancient world most wealthy people would have gotten and retained their wealth by oppressing the poor and the weak, or by collecting taxes, or lending money; all of these things would have made them unwelcome almost everywhere. So rather than being surprised that rich people couldn’t get into heaven, the disciples really should have said, “Oh yeah, that makes sense. Rich people are oppressive and evil.”

    But instead they are surprised, and wonder who can get into heaven.

    Just like today, most people wanted to live a life where they had enough to eat, a means to clothe themselves, and shelter. And just like most of us today, they would have wanted more, because we all want more, it’s in our nature, because wealth has a way of making us feel secure. It has a way of making us feel confident. It has a way of making us feel like we can rely on ourselves when all hell breaks loose in our lives. 

    It isn’t the wealth or the money that Jesus is worried about, but rather this delusion of our self-reliance. Instead of becoming like little children (Matthew 18:3) who look in faith to their Father for help in difficult times, we look to ourselves and what we know and what we possess to help ourselves in times of struggle. We solve issues by throwing our resources at them, rather than possibly learning that we shouldn’t “solve” an issue, but instead, let it go altogether.

    This is the root of the disciples’ confusion. If even people of means, people who could shape their reality to their own liking, would have difficulty getting into heaven, then what are we to do? 

    Again and again we see Jesus trying to push the disciples into the idea of trusting in God to provide, to teach, to give wisdom in every situation. Earlier in Matthew (chapter 10), Jesus had sent the disciples out and told them not to take anything with them, but to travel with nothing, and that they should give freely of what little they had with them. All of this is done with the assurance that “with God, all things are possible” (v. 26). This should have reminded them of the five thousand hungry people that Jesus asked them to feed, and when they were confused by how that was to happen, Jesus took some loaves and fish and provided more than was needed.

    Yushi Nomura took the sayings of the Desert Fathers and put together a book with drawings, called “Desert Wisdom.” One of the stories there has always stuck with me, because it so clearly defines this idea of being like little children, relying on our Father, rather than on our own devices:

    Abba Doulos, the disciple of Abba Bessarion, said: When we were walking along the sea one day, I was thirsty, so I said to Abba Bessarion, Abba, I am very thirsty. The old man prayed, and said to me, Drink from the sea. The water was sweet when I drank it. And I poured it into a flask so that I would not be thirsty later. Seeing this, the old man asked me, Why are you doing that? I answered, Excuse me, but it’s so that I won’t be thirsty later on. Then the old man said, God is here, and God is everywhere.

    Desert Wisdom, Sayings From the Desert Fathers, p 74, [italics mine]
    God is here, and God is everywhere.