Through Stained Glass: A Sunday Morning Meditation

Take a moment to center yourself.

 

If you have your candle, light it at this time. As you do pray, “I welcome you into my presence, Triune God. Encircle me into your Love.”

 

Watch the flame and rest in the presence of God our Creator; Christ our Redeemer; and the Holy Spirit our Sustainer.

 

Breathe in God’s lovingkindness. Breathe out your worries.

Breathe in Christ’s compassion. Breathe out your hurts.

Breathe in the Spirit’s gentleness. Breathe out your negativity.

 

Rest in the silence of this moment. Watch the candle flicker. Give praise to God for this morning.

 

Meditation 1                                       Thirst by Mary Oliver

 

Another morning and I wake with thirst

for the goodness I do not have. I walk

out to the pond and all the way God has

given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord,

I was never a quick scholar but sulked

and hunched over my books past the hour

and the bell; grant me, in your mercy,

a little more time. Love for the earth

and love for you are having such a long

conversation in my heart. Who knows what

will finally happen or where I will be sent,

yet already I have given a great many things

away, expecting to be told to pack nothing,

except the prayers which, with this thirst,

I am slowy learning.

 

Silently reflect on these words.

 

What goodness do you thirst for this morning?

 

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing

 

Meditation 2                                                   Psalm 63

 

63 God—you’re my God!

    I can’t get enough of you!

I’ve worked up such hunger and thirst for God,

    traveling across dry and weary deserts.

 

2-4 So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open,

    drinking in your strength and glory.

In your generous love I am really living at last!

    My lips brim praises like fountains.

I bless you every time I take a breath;

    My arms wave like banners of praise to you.

 

5-8 I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy;

    I smack my lips. It’s time to shout praises!

If I’m sleepless at midnight,

    I spend the hours in grateful reflection.

Because you’ve always stood up for me,

    I’m free to run and play.

I hold on to you for dear life,

    and you hold me steady as a post.

 

Silently reflect on this psalm.

 

When is the last time you longed for something or someone? Maybe it was a partner far away by necessity or a child across the country in school or a long-deceased parent. This type of longing is born out of a relationship of love and support. A relationship full of memories and moments shared. This psalm invites us into that same longing for our God. Its first words are personal, “O God, you are my God.”

 

Meditation 3                                                   Exodus 17

 

Before you read the scripture this morning, invite the Spirit to illumine your heart with this prayer:

Give us your Spirit of wisdom, O God, so that we might hear your Word speaking through the scriptures with ears that understand, and hearts filled with love. Amen.

 

Exodus 17.1-7

17 1-2 Directed by God, the whole company of Israel moved on by stages from the Wilderness of Sin. They set camp at Rephidim. And there wasn’t a drop of water for the people to drink. The people took Moses to task: “Give us water to drink.” But Moses said, “Why pester me? Why are you testing God?”

 

3 But the people were thirsty for water there. They complained to Moses, “Why did you take us from Egypt and drag us out here with our children and animals to die of thirst?”

 

4 Moses cried out in prayer to God, “What can I do with these people? Any minute now they’ll kill me!”

 

5-6 God said to Moses, “Go on out ahead of the people, taking with you some of the elders of Israel. Take the staff you used to strike the Nile. And go. I’m going to be present before you there on the rock at Horeb. You are to strike the rock. Water will gush out of it and the people will drink.”

 

6-7 Moses did what he said, with the elders of Israel right there watching. He named the place Massah (Testing-Place) and Meribah (Quarreling) because of the quarreling of the Israelites and because of their testing of God when they said, “Is God here with us, or not?”

 

The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

 

Silently reflect on the passage.

 

Each of us comes to worship thirsting for something that only God can satisfy. We thirst for connection. We thirst for peace. We thirst for acceptance. We thirst for meaning. We thirst for justice. We thirst for__________.

 

Take a moment and search what it is you’re thirsting for this day.

 

“It strikes me (pun intended!) that God chooses to bring water -- and the life it symbolizes and will impart -- out of something that appears to be lifeless. This may be symbolic of God's intentions to bring the people life, not death, as they suspect. Out of Egypt and out of the wilderness, God will find ways to make life flow in unexpected ways. But it will require a certain amount of trust from the people, a willingness to put faith in a god who seems not to do things in the typical way.” Amy Ericson, Working Preacher

 

How might God be calling you to bring life to the community in a new or unexpected way?

 

Are you willing to let Christ give you living water? Are you strong enough to let Christ tend to the wounds pride inflicts? Will you allow Christ to bring you healing in and through something new?

 

 

Meditation 4                                       One Day by David Whyte

 

“One day I will

say

the gift I once had

has been taken,

the place I have

made for myself

belongs to another,

and the words I have sung

are being sung by the ones

I would want.

 

Then I will be ready

for that voice

and the still silence

in which it arrives.

 

And if my faith is good

then we’ll meet again

on the road

and we’ll be thirsty,

and stop

and laugh

and drink together again

from the deep well

of things as they are.

 

...”

Are the wells you have always drunk from low? Perhaps one is empty. Where might you find a new well of living water to quench your thirst? Are you ready to trust God to bring you something different?

The Closing Practice

Friends, God listens to us. In the wilderness of life, God will never abandon us. Even when we attempt to satisfy our deepest thirsts with things that'll only leave us more thirsty, God will provide us living water. If you are able, go outdoors flat stones. Each stone should be smooth and at least three inches wide. If you’d like, you can paint them. Once the paint is dry use a fine point marker like a Sharpie to write “I’m listening” on each rock. Place the rocks somewhere in your home where they will serve as a reminder that God listens to us each time we speak. While God may not always respond by bringing water out of a rock, we can be assured that we have been heard and we will be cared for.

Friends, you are loved by God. Before you go to serve God in the world, take one last moment to rest in God's presence. Focus on your breathing. Then, when you are ready, breathe out the promise of God's liberating love and extinguish your candle. 

Go in peace.

 

Through Stained Glass: When We Thirst--God Provides, a sermon

"I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb.
Strike the rock, and water will come out of it,
so that the people may drink." Exodus 17.6

Grammatical Caveat: Because sermons are meant to be preached and are therefore prepared with the emphasis on verbal presentation (i.e., are written for the ear), the written accounts occasionally deviate from proper and generally accepted principles of grammar and punctuation. Most often, these deviations are not mistakes per se but are indicative of an attempt to aid the listener in the delivery of the sermon.

“When We Thirst—God Gives Us Water”

Exodus 17.1-7

16^th Sunday After Pentecost Year A

 

I could feel something happening to me.  My body began to feel strange.  My lips were dry, my mouth parched.  Above me in the sky, the August sun bore down: I could feel it turning my skin pink.  Sweat drenched my back, staining the hat I wore on my head.  For what seemed like hours, I was in the sun: running, playing, and practicing over and over and over.  My body was exhausted, my head was pounding, and by this point, my eyes weren't seeing so straight.  If only we could stop.   If only we could take a break: after all, this was dangerous, practicing this long in the hot sun on this dusty baseball field without a break.  But I knew better than to ask the coach, or even complain about being thirsty. I began to internally lament my choices: how I wished I was at home in the air-conditioning, surrounded by sodas and bags of chips, and most importantly, out from underneath the scorching sun. 

            Finally, the word came.  Our activity stopped.  We went to the watering hole (which was a giant Gatorade jug), and from it, we drank deeply.  From this water, we regained our energy.  Our dry lips turned bright red.  Our dried mouths ached when the cold water hit our teeth. After much-needed hydration, I could think and see straighter and be more fully present.

Upon temporarily relieving our exhaustion, we headed back out to the baseball field's dusty wilderness and resumed business as usual.

            While there are mysteries in the world that still stump scientists, we know one thing for sure, all living things need water. Water is essential to our bodies.  60% of our bodies, 70% of our brains, and 80% of our blood is water.  Without it, we could only survive one, maybe two weeks at most.

                  It is no wonder then that Israelites 'grumbled' against Moses when they settled down in Rephidim (which means "resting places") to find out that there was not enough water to go around.  "Give us water to drink."  Water is all they needed. Yes, the pillar of fire and the cloud of smoke had just guided them; yes, they had just had their bellies filled with quail and manna from heaven; and yes, they knew that even though the waters at Marah were bitter, they were made sweet by the wood Moses threw into it.  But now they found themselves in a part of the wilderness where the wells were almost, if not entirely, dry.  The expectations of the people were bitterly disappointed.  The myth of security in Egypt was more appealing than the aimless leadership from Moses.

Before we criticize our ancestors, we must remember that they did not have gallons of water available at their convenience or disposal, unlike us. Their concerns, their 'grumblings,' were entirely legitimate.  As we discussed, water is essential to survival, rather than a mere convenience or luxury.  So, why wouldn't the Israelites begin to long for the days when at least they had steady access to food and water, even if this was within the context of forced labor?  This situation must have been unfathomably desperate; they must have entered so deep into the wilderness of despair that they would have sacrificed their freedom for water. 

            Thanks be to God, that even though the people grumbled against Moses and God, God does what God does best, which is to remain faithful to God’s people.  In their state of fear and terror, the Israelites were not afraid to call out to their leaders and bluntly ask, “In this journey, in this wilderness where we find ourselves:  where is God in the midst of this?”  Although the people did not ask to leave Egypt, they seemed to have forgotten that this was not Moses' idea, either. Instead, it was God who led the people out of the false-security Egypt offered and into the wilderness to discover again who God promised them to be.  This movement out of the pharaoh's death grip does not mean that God inflicted this wilderness upon them to 'teach' them a lesson.  No:  instead, God listened to their cries, in humility liberated them, and in hope, led them to their true identity--God's chosen nation. God sustains them along the way with manna from heaven and water from rocks. Notably, sustenance came not by remaining where they were, but by moving toward the next place toward the direction of God's promise.

Moses went with the elders to Sinai, a place of holiness, and brought back a foretaste of that which was to come. In this narrative, sustaining water came from the mountain where God's people would receive that which sustains their spiritual selves: the Torah, the Law.  On this mountain, the people ate and drank both physical and spiritual food in God's presence.

 I think it is safe to say that we can identify with the congregation at Rephidim, recalling the times in our own lives when fear and doubt have gripped us.  As hard as it may be to admit, I think some of us, if not all of us, have 'quarreled' against God, and at least with those who we call our leaders.  We are not that much different from our wandering brothers and sisters.  We, too, have had our moments where instead of embracing our faith, we succumb to our fears, and instead of trusting, we begin to grow suspicious. Like the Israelites, we cannot ignore the horror of our thirsts; it is difficult to deter ourselves from our preference for our own 'Egypt' of death, darkness, and despair in the wilderness of life when this bondage at least represents security and familiarity.

            In some seasons, we can see God's face and know that God goes with us: in the same way, we go through seasons when our entire being aches for but one drop of water.  Why, then, do we test the Holy One?  Because we know that if God is who God says God is, God can most definitely handle us in our entirety, which includes both our times of strong faith AND our legitimate doubts.

Friends, if there is but one theme to hold onto during this repetitive rendition of the exodus story, it is this:  God cares deeply for each of us and helps move us from places of fear and doubt to places of trust. In today's story, it strikes me [pun intended] that God chooses to bring water—and the life it symbolizes and will impart—out of something that appears to be lifeless. If only they could have seen what we see now that a promise is reiterated in this act, the security that God intends to bring the people life, not death, as they suspect.

 Whether it is out of Egypt and out of the wilderness, out of depression and out of a failed marriage, out of sadness and out of the death of a loved one, God has, God is, and God will find ways to make life flow in unexpected ways. It will require a certain amount of trust, a willingness to put faith in a God who seems not to do things in a typical way.

Let us no longer worry that our thirst is too much for God.  Friends, let us put aside our concern that God will not provide for us.  Let us reorient our lives so that our contentment comes not from the days of the past, but emerges from the hope of the future.  The good news in all of this, friends, is that God is in the midst of our wilderness. God stands amid our lives, creating beauty that looks scorched and barren and fills our oases with water that will never leave us thirsting for more.  

            Teresa of Avila once said, “Let nothing disturb you, nothing dismay you: All things are passing, God never changes.  Patient endurance attains all things.  God alone suffices.”  

            Church, from which pools do we drink?  For which water do you thirst? 

May you often return to the water coolers of life, always reminded of the sufficient Living Water God offers to us.

Amen.

 

 

Through Stained Glass: Painting Pictures of Egypt

 

Hey, how are you doing?

 

No, like, really—how are you doing?

 

It is okay to take off your mask—the one that has that painted on smile, the one that says, “I’m fine.”

 

Are you tired?

            Are you ‘over it’?

                        Are you anxious?

                                    Are you ‘hanging in there?’

                                                Are you ready to get back to normal?

                                                            Are you (insert whatever it is you are)….

 

I am all the things—and then some.

 

At times I have found myself longing for what normal was before COVID. I make statements about how I’m adapting to the new normal. And then I dream about what the next normal will be—in all its newness.

 

But then I read the Exodus story—and I see the Israelites wandering in the wilderness in their new normal—and they complain. I feel like them a lot of days. Then I remember something: Nostalgic longing for a misremembered history is a powerful and dangerous force, especially in an environment of scarcity and adversity. Their reality has changed, and the current 'new normal' isn't leaving them satisfied. So they do what anyone does when a negative experience impacts us, they complain. 

Amid their longing for 'the good old days,' God delivers them, fights for them, and then provides for them. God says, “You are more than what pharaoh limited you to be. Your worth isn't based on the number of bricks you produce in a day.” God gifts them precisely what they need as they move towards freedom. 

That's the thing about God--She isn't static. God isn't interested in remaining comfortable or preserving what's normal. God is dynamic, progressing God's creation towards the promise of restoration, and invites all the universe into the Divine Dance that is the Trinity. At the very least, the first two books of the Bible reveal this to us--that when things become normal, we better be ready to move!

It is easy to romanticize the past when things are hard. Right now, we are in a hard season. But the current reality is offering us an opportunity to evaluate what truly matters to us. We have been given the gift to create new rhythms and practices that return us to God. More importantly, I believe this current season gives us permission to let God love us as we are—without all the normal expectations put on us by ourselves or others. Maybe we long for Egypt because we could blend in better, and there wasn’t much required of us. Or, as the song suggests, we want Egypt’s normal because the things we’ve learned about ourselves [individually and communally] no longer fit with reality and, we know we have to change.

We can do hard things. 

Whether you're painting pictures of Egypt or packing your bag in anticipation of the new terrain that awaits us, God is with us--delivering, fighting, and providing for us exactly what we need. 

How am I doing? Better. Because I have God, I have you, and I have enough to get through this day.