Friday, August 29, 2014

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Soak

Soak

It hadn’t been but a few minutes since I let them out. I know they had enough water. That day I had filled up their bowls twice already. It wasn’t even noon. But it was near 90 degrees. The humidity was thick. Finally, the dog days of summer were upon us.

That’s why my heart started racing when I saw him lying out there.

From where I was, I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. Chloe was busy chasing after a butterfly. But Silas, he was lying motionless in the middle of the backyard.

Quickly I opened the door and yelled his name.

“Silas! Hey pal.”

Nothing.

No lifting of the head.
No wagging of the tail.

With a little more angst in my voice I again yelled, “Hey pup. Let’s get out of this heat. Come on Silas.”

Sweet Chloe came bumbling over but Silas, he remained still in one spot.


As the sweat began to run down my back, I stepped off the porch and onto the rocks, making as much noise as possible to get his attention.

“Want a treat big fella?” I yelled.

No response.

Nothing.

By this time, the adrenaline was pulsating through my body. My walk had turned into a jog. Chloe was interested now too.

Finally, when Chloe and I were within a few feet of the golden dog his head raised and his tail started wagging. My heart stopped racing. And the two dogs started playing.

This wasn’t the first time Silas has done this to me. He often practices lying motionless in the sun during the hottest part of the day. No food or squeaky toy is ever enticing enough to get him inside. It is as if he enters a state of being that causes him to be still.

While I watched my dog basking in the sun, I thought of my favorite part from the evening prayer liturgy that is found in our Prayer Book:

Jesus Christ is the light of the world, the light no darkness can overcome.
Stay with us, O Christ, for it is evening and the day is almost over.
Let your light scatter the darkness and illumine your church.

Soon the summer days and the accompany heat will transition into the falling leaves and temperatures of autumn. Before you know it, we will likely be walking in a winter wonderland and lamenting for days like these.

So I encourage you, like Silas, to take time to sit in the sun. Be responsible about it. Drink water. Wear sunglasses or your favorite Chicago Cubs baseball hat. Soak yourself in the sun, letting it fill you with God’s love.  Breathe in this love and breathe out your thanks.

Jesus Christ is the light of the world. There is comfort in that. There is hope in the light and peace in the warmth.


As Labor Day approaches, may you find a sunny spot to soak up the sun, while basking in the warmth of God's loving presence and the good news that to God, you're golden.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Stared

Stared

Lord God, mercy is in your hands, pour me a little. ~Mary Oliver

The weather was hot and dry, the way a summer day in August should feel.
To beat the heat a young family decided to spend one of the final days of summer at the local swimming hole. The popular pool was crowded with sunbathers, swimmers, and picnickers. Within minutes, as mom and dad found the perfect spot to set up, the kids were running and splashing in the refreshing water.
         Laughter mixed with the sound of splashing was peaceful until suddenly there was a cry—a voice from somewhere among the crowded swimmers creaming, “Help! Please Help! Help!” The voice was urgent, terrified, and piercing.
         Quickly the father stood up and began scanning the water until he located the boy’s distressed face, tilted upward, barely above the waterline, fearfully screaming. As he looked on with panic, he noticed other parents and teenagers stood a few feet away, watching in shock, watching in uncertainty, watchingand yet doing nothing to help the screaming boy.
         Why wasn’t anyone helping this kid?!
         Quickly a big burly man, with white water exploding from his knees and his own child tucked under his arm, crashed and splashed his way through the water towards the little boy. As parents pulled their kids back out of his way he shouted “Somebody help that kid! Somebody grab him!”
         But for some reasonno one was wiling to act.
         As they stared the courageous bystander, now waist deep, bent forward straining against the thick water, stretched out his one free arm, yanked the boy out of the water, and brought him tight against his chest. The boy, desperately relieved, wrapped both arms and legs around him and clung tight. Then slowly, gently they made their way to the beach and the man sat the boy in the sand. He knelt down and comforted the young lad until his parents arrived.
***
         Life is scary. We humans are small, fragile, and limited. Like the boy in the lake, many of our prayers often begin in fear or confusion—many of them are some version of “Help me!” or “Have mercy on me!” Sometimes our prayers are so filled with our own worry and anxiety that we forget to stop talking and just listen to what God is doing. But when we do stop and listen, even though our prayers are filled with cravings and needs and sufferings and loneliness, we notice that God responds to us with rest and peace and love and comfort.
         It is as if we can feel God wading through the waters, stretching out an arm and calling to us, “Hang on! I’m on the way!”
         There are many scary situations occurring throughout the world right now. Perhaps you are asking, “What can I do, in small-town U.S.A., about these much larger issues?” Or maybe you do your best not to turn on the nightly news because the scenes of violence are too much. Both responses are reasonable, since we often react with a “fight or flight” mentality.
         So what are we to do?
         Listen
As Christine Sine, contemplative Christian and gardener has said recently, “Listening and giving full attention to those who have been victims or perpetrators of violence means that we do not run from it. We do not pretend that violence is not happening and we do not pretend that it does not involve us. We recognize its horror and we gird up or spirits to take a stand.”
We need to listen to the pain and the grief that creates violence, listen to the stories that tell of the results of violence and listen to the stories of how God’s reconciling love can and has been shown in the midst of that. We also need to listen to the hopes and dreams of the victims of violence. So often these reflect the cry for a more just and equitable society in which peace, equality and justice is shown to all.
By responding out of love not hate or indifference to, we welcome a stranger who is often very difficult for us to embrace. And in so doing we can often find that we are embracing and welcoming Christ into our midst.
***
Have you ever seen a small child cry when they are scared? Have you noticed that when their parents come and hold them, they cry harder at first, releasing all the hurt and fear? Eventually the cries slow down and get quieter and then at the end, just before the crying stops, the children take a deep breath and let out a long sigh, a release of all the tension and fear.
This is what it means to pray—we cry out [with fear or joy], we wait for the One who loves us, we allow ourselves to be held, we empty out our real fears and need [or our real joy and gratitude], and then we rest, knowing our lives are held in the hands of love.
I invite you to take a few minutes in silence to contemplate the following prayer from Psalm 46
1 God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
3 though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult.


10 ‘Be still, and know that I am God!

Friends, may we continue to pray for people in Ferguson, Iraq, Gaza, Syria, Afghanistan, Ukraine--and for those suffering in the house next door.


Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Selfless


“YOU DON’T KNOW ABOUT REAL LOSS BECAUSE 
IT ONLY OCCURS WHEN YOU’VE LOVED SOMETHING 
MORE THAN YOU LOVE YOURSELF. 
I DOUBT YOU’VE EVER DARED TO LOVE 
ANYBODY THAT MUCH.” –
SEAN MAGUIRE IN GOOD WILL HUNTING
Selfless

You are loved.

Yes, you.

You. Are. Loved.

Yes, yes you are.

Your story, my story, our story, begins with love. Turn to the first chapter of the Good Book when Love created from and out of love. Take note that when Love could have remained with Love’s self, Love created us:  you and me. Selflessly Love created humanity not only good but also in the image of Love.

Friend, you, yes you, you are loved.

At the heart of the story of God is this:  we do not exist for ourselves alone, and it is only when are fully convinced of this fact that we begin to love ourselves properly and thus also love others. This life, your life, no matter where you have been or what you have done, no matter how dark it has become or how much light appears, your life is a gift.

Friend, you, yes you, you are a gift.

Accepting this reality is a great good, not because of what it gives you or me, but because of what it enables us to give to others:  love.

We are human. There is no denying or escaping this fact. While we are good, no one expects us to live or be ‘as gods.’ We all have our weaknesses and deficiencies, and these limitations of ours play a most important part in all our lives. It is because of them, our brokenness, we need others and others need us.

Friend, you, yes you, I need you.

Why you ask?

Because we are not all weak in the same spots, and so we supplement and complete one another, each one making up in himself/herself for the lack in another. Or as Ram Dass has said, “We're all just walking each other home.”

In the movie Dead Poet’s Society, Robin Williams’ character, John Keating said, “No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world.”

Friend, you, yes you, can change the world.

You are a gift. Your story is needed. You are enough. You were created from Love. Love is your name. Love is your destiny.

For those of us who claim this Love, when will we stop offering superfluous words filled with emptiness and begin embodying this Love? No longer can the world, our communities, our children, afford to listen to lyrics of sentimental love. We must , as Love’s children, deal realistically with the pain and injustice in the world. This does not mean of course we seek to convert people into our image for the sake of growing congregations. But rather, we offer our gift, this thing called love, to those who know real pain and suffer from real injustices without judgment, without condemnation. Love is not transactional. We must love others as God loves us:  selflessly and unconditionally.

So yes, you, especially you, you are loved. More than you ever know.

And the two of us, with everyone in between, we are more than enough to give this gift of Love.

“Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.

This opening to the life
we have refused
again and again
until now.
Until now.”

Enough by David Whyte, Where Many Rivers Meet



Looking toward Sunday:
Sermon Text:  Genesis 45.1-15 & Matthew 15.[10-20] 21-28
Sermon Title:  Hard Conversations