Through Stained Glass: Advent Word A Day 12 -- Blessed

 Blessed

 

What is opening you up to the presence of God in your life right now?

  I love that the first lesson Jesus teaches in Matthew is about being blessed. And it isn’t about a future moment but right now. It isn’t “Blessed will be” but “blessed are…”

Barbara Brown Taylor says it this way, ““Blessed are the poor in spirit”—not because of something that will happen to them later but because of what their poverty opens up in them right now. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”—not because God is going to fill them up later but because their appetites are so fine-tuned right now….”

  God draws near to those who are mourning, hungering, and celebrating. Of course, this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t work to liberate systems that oppress people. We absolutely must do that work. It also means that whatever we are enduring “may need blessing as much as they need fixing, since the blessing is already right there.”

  The blessings Jesus offer in the beatitudes remind me that the task of the blessing – to be called blessed – is to simultaneously look outward and honor the reality of what is happening, while looking inward to name the inner experience and resources within. It doesn’t avoid the reality of whatever season we are in, and it summons forth the presence of the Spirit and that She is up to.

  I’m certain that doesn’t make any sense.

  In my experience, when I face heartache and grief, and prayer becomes a lament or mourning, knowing that God joins me in my suffering allows me to handle the pain differently. It doesn’t lessen the hurt, and the wounds remain tender, but the added meaning makes them easier to bear.

  I’m unsure how this resonates with you all. I hope it doesn’t come across as dismissive to anyone experiencing deep suffering. Over time, I've seen that in our pain, God approaches us gently, aiming to bring healing. God provides us with what we need to be part of Her healing presence in each other's lives.

What I love most about being blessed is that God's blessings are available to all of us. While we have tried to turn faith into a formula for achieving perfection and have equated faithfulness with health, wealth, and success, God’s focus is on our wholeness. It is in accepting our wounds that we receive God’s blessing.

Our lives are a blessing. Isn’t that how our story begins? An original blessing that declares we are unshakably good. Ours is a story of blessing—and God’s mercy, ensuring everyone knows they are blessed. This mercy is made real when the hungry are fed, those who are pushed down are lifted up, gatherings include those who have been pushed out, the privileged relinquish their power, and all the things that cause people pain are lifted and broken down. 

What does that look like in real time? To offer a blessing, as JOD says, “is a sacred act that honors the visible and invisible, a "circle of light" woven around someone to protect, heal, and strengthen them, bridging the human heart to the divine by recognizing the sacred in daily life and moments of transition, acting as a window to deeper spiritual reality.”

So, be a blessing. Be blessed. Stay blessed.

 You are blessed. You are a blessing. You are the beloved.

 

 

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day -- Tell

 Tell

 

You know what I love about Advent?

 

It’s a time between time and a space outside of space. The season of Advent invites us to consider our lives, listen to them, and then tell the truth about them. When we tell the truth about our lives, we open ourselves to transformation.

 

The stories of Advent, the candlelight slowly growing, the landscapes of wild places, the poetry of the prophets—all invite us to dream of something new. For John the Baptist, there’s no better place than the wilderness, where you’re on the farthest edge of empires’ expectations and the burdens of the religious.

 

Out there, beyond the sights and sounds of the city, along the earthy-smelling banks of the Jordan, with mud between their toes and a taste of the river’s wild flavor, their imaginations open wide for something, anything to be different than back home.

 

John tells them something is going to happen; the One who is coming will upend what they think they know. John invites them to unlearn that which no longer serves them; to allow the fire of wisdom to burn away stale beliefs; to join the dance of the Divine. To … you guessed it … to see beyond the mind.

 

He’s telling them to “Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation.” (David Whyte) The conversation is Love itself – the Word that’s been since before the beginning – the Word that wraps healing and wholeness around us. John tells them not to try too hard; to set aside those things they think they need because, more than likely, it’s all chaff.

 

He tells them to be ready because something new is about to be born.

 

So, can you do me a favor, please? Can you take 3-5 minutes and live a little on the edge by sharing what new thing you wish to bring forth? Don’t think about those things that hold you back, okay? Your beliefs and traditions are sacred – but remember, so are your dreams and awakening. No need to spend time as an insider to your beliefs, like a ‘dues-paying member’ of a country club, guarding the agreement you signed upon joining. Imagine John telling you to loosen your thoughts a bit, awaken from a potential sleepwalking state, and let the Spirit help you see beyond your mind.

 

Can you do that for me? Good. Thank you.

 

Sometimes telling the truth about our lives is challenging – it may leave us a little dazzled, like a striking bolt of lightning. And yet, Advent is the perfect time to bear witness to the longings and dreams we carry around inside us.

 

Advent is a way of life. We pay close attention to these texts because they remind us how expecting Jesus' birth calls us to live and witness to the Living God, who feels everything we do and promises to come alongside us, especially when saying ‘Behold!’ is hardest.

 

So, tell me, beloved, “What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” (Mary Oliver)

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day -- Baptize

Baptize

It’s more God’s mercy than judgment. 

John the Baptist said, “I baptize you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

 

JtB said this before he baptized Jesus.

 

John baptized Jesus in the Jordan, and then this happened: “And a voice from the heavens said, 'This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

 

Beloved. Yes. And so much more.

 

The age-old theological question is, “If Jesus was perfect, then why did he need to be baptized?”

 

What is it that Padraig O’Tuama says? Mu – meaning – un-ask that question. It isn’t about that – what we ask to distract ourselves from the ‘Yes’ God says to our lives … right now. Jesus is baptized to enter into the fullness of our human experience. 

 

Okay. Let’s stop. Let me explain.

 

Jesus was perfect – but not in the way we usually think of perfect. In the 21st century, we understand perfect like a pitcher throwing a perfect game: nine innings without any batter reaching base for any reason — no blemishes or mistakes. I remember competing in a solo band contest where our performance was judged on a somewhat subjective scale. Did I do this right or that properly depending on how the judge was feeling at 6:07 p.m. on a Friday after a long day of teaching?

 

Perhaps this teacher would say, “I’m only human.” And they aren’t wrong. And yet, they aren’t right. Because to be human transcends being right or|and wrong.

 

It isn’t very clear. I know. But hang in there.

 

We misunderstand the definition of perfection as it is presented in the Bible. In Matthew 5:48, Jesus gives us this instruction: Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

 

Be. Perfect.

 

Simple enough. Right?

 

It actually is, and here’s why: perfection in this context is wholeness. A letting go of ego desires and an acceptance of the Divine presence in our lives – this is wholeness. I’ve heard it said that only God is perfect. But we can participate in God’s perfect mercy, God’s all-inclusive and impartial love. As St. Bonaventure said, “Christ is the one whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.”

 

Here's the thing about this – if God is Wholeness, and we belong to this Wholeness – then at our core – is Wholeness. I love what Fr. Richard Rohr says about this:

This is the Wholeness that holds you. You can’t figure this Wholeness out rationally, nor can you control it. All you can do is fall into this Wholeness that holds you when you stop excluding, even the dark parts of yourself.

 

So – wholeness is – then – an acceptance of all of who you are – all your parts. Integrating those parts, we are told to keep separate from ourselves. Or to put it another way, the acceptance of our humanity.

 

I’m not interested in the conversation about the ‘why’ of Jesus’s baptism. I am interested in the idea that, by being baptized, Jesus enters into the human story in its fullness.

 

To even ask why Jesus needs to be baptized presupposes a flawed or imperfect identity.

 

Oof-duh.

 

Jesus enters those waters the same way God entered the waters way back in the poem of Genesis 1 – to say ‘Yes’ to creation … to our very humanity.

 

Here’s the deal, friends: we can’t start this journey into the interpersonal, intrapersonal, and transpersonal on a negative note. Why? Because God didn’t and doesn’t. If we seek God out of fear, guilt, or shame (which is often the legacy of original sin), we won’t get very far. Starting negative results in staying negative. We need to begin positively—through a wonderful experience, something greater than life, something that dives into the depths of our own being. That’s what the word baptism means, “to be dipped into.”

 

Baptism by the Holy Spirit – we are drawn into – equipped | gifted – with the very essence from which we come from: Divinity.

 

Jesus isn’t just baptized in the Jordan, but into this life—our life—being human. Then, the Dove descended into Jesus, and afterward, Jesus was sent into the wilderness. Everything about Jesus' baptism—what John was proclaiming—centers on the relationality of the Divine to creation, to us.

 

Let me let Fr. Rohr summarize what I’m getting at:

 

The common manifestation of this ever-recurring pattern might simply be called perfectionism. The word itself is taken from a single passage in Matthew 5:48, where Jesus tells us to “be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Of course, perfection as such is a divine or mathematical concept and has never been a human one. Jesus offers it as guidance for how we can love our enemies, of which he has just spoken (5:43–47). He is surely saying that we cannot obey this humanly impossible commandment by willpower, but only by surrendering to the Divine Perfection that can and will flow through us. In other words, we cannot be perfect of ourselves—but God can. Yet we used this one passage to give people the exact opposite impression—that they could indeed be perfect in themselves!

 

As much as we want to make baptism about us – believer vs. infant, etc. – it’s always been about God. God’s mercy, not God’s judgment.

 

Imperfection is wholeness.

 

And to think God created us this way – to be human, ourselves. Once we set aside the ego’s desire to pursue some perceived perfection, we will wade into our wholeness.

 

Whenever I try to accomplish a test of perfection handed to me by those other than the Divine, I can’t help but think of this line from Merton:

"Dance in the sun, you tepid idiot. Wake up and dance in the clarity of perfect contradiction.”

 

I may not be perfect by Webster’s definition – but I can be completely myself in this moment, integrated and whole … just as God intended.

 

So, remember your baptism, be thankful, and take time to wake up and dance in the clarity of our contradiction. After all … isn’t that proof of God’s mercy?

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day 5 -- Worthy

 Worthy

Unshakably good -- worthy and beloved. 

You.

Me.

Us.

We.

They.

Them.

Friend.

Foe.

Wounded.

Traumatized.

Marginalized.

All. Of. Us.

Is | Are

Unshakably good.

Worthy – as they | you | we – are

No one.

And

I

Mean

No one

Is

garbage.

Such rhetoric is harmful. It drives the false narrative of separation – that we don’t belong together. Demonizing language is always untruth. 

God is inclusion. Nature -- good -- us, we are nature -- very good. Beloved. Not garbage.

We do – knit together with Love – the very fabric | essence of God. Fr. Gregory Boyle says that tenderness is the highest form of spiritual maturity. God is in the loving – the affirming of all of us.

All is worthy – all is Love.

No one. Is. Garbage.

Jesus says plainly, “My joy yours. Your joy complete.” This is all God wants for us. Being connected to this God of love is to know flourishing joy and fearlessness. The Divine fully alive …

In your kid

In that sunset

The fresh snow on the frozen creek,

The immigrant,

The weather person who gets things wrong

In that smile

In the unexpected kindness.

As we conclude this week of hope, I’m hopeful that God is helping us move through things and that Love will heal those who view themselves as anything other than Beloved.

Because not even they are garbage.

No one – is – garbage.

All

Is

Beloved. Worthy of Love.

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word-a-Day -- Confessing

 Confessing

Can't have a post about repair without water...

The act of confession is confessing, I guess. [There’s that “don’t use a definition within a definition" rule again.] Like we do in worship. I don’t think that’s what today’s word means, but let’s pretend that it is!

 

In a typical worship service in the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., there’s a confessional rite. Well, I’m not sure if it’s right to call it a ‘rite’ or not. But we confess our sins weekly. There’s a communal confession, followed by space for individual confession, or vice versa.

 

I encountered a thought suggesting that “When we confess our sins, we do so not out of despair but with embodied hope in God's mercy.’ Additionally, I read that hope can embody trust itself. When we confess our sins, we trust that even if we feel separated from God, others, or ourselves, God can restore and heal us to wholeness. The author of the Epistle of James states, ‘So confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, and this will cure you” (James 5:16). This clearly implies that accountability among peers and personal responsibility for our mistakes are crucial for healing and restoring genuine human relationships.

 

Did you know that when Advent, the last season added to the liturgical calendar, was created, there was a strong emphasis on penance? I mean, I guess that’s kind of the point of the apocalyptic text we get each first Sunday of Advent – that we confess, repent, and repair, and be ready to be made whole upon the arrival of the Fullness of Time.

Talking about confession, sin, forgiveness, reconciliation, and justice is complex. And then throw in penance? Ooof-duh.

What is penance? I love how Barbara Brown Taylor describes it:

 

Penance is the acceptance of responsibility for repair, and it is one of the most healing things a repentant sinner can do, as well as one of the most painful.… True repentance … promises us reunion with God and one another. It promises us restoration to community, and to all the responsibilities that go along with life in relationship.

 

Confession is vital for forgiveness because it involves acknowledging responsibility both collectively and individually. Reconciliation requires mutual effort to repair harm. These practices aren’t about punishment but about liberation. When we honestly admit our wrongs, we create enriching, sometimes life-changing encounters—no longer about moral purity or regaining God’s love, but about experiencing God’s love directly.

 

Advent is a season of reflecting on the entire human experience — all the parts that make us who we are, including both the illuminated and shadow sides. I appreciate this season because shorter days and snow-covered ground, along with slower paces, encourage me to seek God in places I often overlook — even within myself. Confessing how I isolate myself helps me name my divisions, giving me the chance to begin again on the journey toward my own and our collective becoming.

 

I believe confessing helps us heal—about 400 words to reach that conclusion. Because confessing not only our separations but also our love for each other restores us to our unshakable goodness. Advent is the season when we do both. It’s the time we recognize that we belong to each other—and to the Holy Community we await.

 

I must confess that this is the best news.

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day -- Awake

Awake

I didn’t know what I was going to post today. As soon as I woke up this morning, I thought about the word. All day, I’ve been searching for song lyrics, and I’m currently reading the book “When Cranes Fly South.” I took two bad photos of Brigid and Tecumseh sleeping, hoping to incorporate some wordplay.

But I’ve got nothing.

Or so I thought, until I listened to a podcast about gratitude. I don’t listen to many podcasts – and as a millennial, I’m low-key embarrassed to admit that because it’s not really my vibe! But one of the three I do listen to is This Jungian Life. [If you click on the title, it’ll take you to the episode via the web.] The latest episode is about gratitude and reverence. Timely, right, since we recently celebrated Thanksgiving.

 Anyway, the thrust of the episode examines those moments in our life when the ‘thank you’ we offer to a mentor, parent, lover, or someone who showed up for us when we needed it the most carries weight. To explain what I mean, I’ll quote them:

Psychologically, gratitude begins when you realize that something you value like safety, opportunity, love, or time rests on someone else’s effort or sacrifice. Your attention shifts: instead of scanning only for problems, your mind also starts to appreciate the hands that hold you up. The emotional tone usually includes warmth, humility, and a sense of being remembered or kept in mind by another person.

What I appreciate about this view of gratitude and its respectful attitude is that it allows us to hold the tension between recognizing that hardships and loss are real while also acknowledging those who support us. There is an ethic to gratitude because it helps us see how people witness our lives – it enables us to honor the bridges that connect us in our relationships. Or as Deb and Lisa put it, “gratitude acts as a bridge between inner life and relationships: it shapes how you orient to family, friends, institutions, and even strangers who maintain the systems you depend on.”

Now, if you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with ‘awake.’

Good question.

What you’ll find here in these reflections will sometimes include definitions of words. So, a quick search of "awake" means... you ready for this... "stop sleeping; wake from sleep.” For those of you who are like my seventh-grade science teacher, who said, “Never use the word in a definition,” awake can also mean, “become aware of; come to a realization of; regain consciousness.”

So, what did I wake up to today? Gratitude.

 I’ll conclude with this reflection on how easy it is to succumb to despair and negativity, especially during difficult times—something many of us experience. Today, a new favorite poet of mine shared an honest message on Instagram: “God bless the ones who hiss at any hint of hope, bless the ones using whatever they can to cope with it all.” If that resonates with you, know that’s enough. This inspired my ‘awakening’ today—those words reminded me that I am part of something much larger and more beautiful—a Love that encompasses and energizes everything. It led me to gratitude, echoing Deb and Lisa’s insight: “Gratitude is a recognition that life has been shaped in dialogue with something larger than personal will.” 

Advent is preparing us for what we already know -- God's 'yes' to us -- and there's so much to revere in this life.

So here is a brief list of things that awaken me to the larger Conversation [logos] of which I am a part:

• The way Tecumseh lays his head on my chest first thing in the morning
• A friend confiding in others that this season feels heavy and that we be mindful of them [read: vulnerability & community]
• A parishioner asking how I’m doing
• Fresh snow on a trail only disrupted by Deer tracks
• Someone sharing a new idea for Kirk  Night, and both of us geeking out over it
• The Ministry of the Hands Meeting and C.M.’s extravagant hospitality
• A text from my mom
• The book “When Cranes Fly South”
• Did I mention snow?
• And you, even if it’s just my mom, who took time to read this post

Goodness. Awake. Turns out I had something more than nothing.