widows and heroes

This week, we get the end of the book of Ruth--a beautiful (if a bit racy) story of faithfulness and redemption. Having risked the little she had left in following her mother-in-law Naomi back to Judah, she now follows Naomi's direction, using the small window of opportunity she had available, and secures not only a husband for herself, but a future for Naomi, too.

Where there seemed to be very little opportunity no hopeful future, a new way forward emerged. It relied on the goodwill of Boaz, Ruth's new husband, but also on the planning and action of the two widows in the story: Ruth and Naomi.

In our gospel lesson from Mark, there's mention of more widows: first, as the scribes are called out for preying on them, and then as one humble, faithful widow gives all she has to God--her last dollar.

I love that in all these stories, we're taught important values: that we should give care to the vulnerable in our midst. It is sinful to take advantage of those who are poor.

But I also love that the most vulnerable in these stories--the "have-nots"--also show themselves to have a whole lot: a power to proclaim something important about how God works in the world. No mere recipients of abuse or of care, these widows are agents in the world, showing us all how to live.

This makes we wonder who I should be looking to for lessons on faithfulness...

remembering the saints

Last Judgement fresco underneath Duomo
Originally uploaded by Paul Robert Lloyd

This Sunday, we celebrate All Saints' Day.

Our worship is always a special time--besides getting us together in God's presence, it also becomes a way of transcending our own time and place. I think worship is more than a little like time travel.

Only, unlike the Land of the Lost kind of time travel, worship doesn't transport us to some distant past. It's projects us forward to the Kingdom of God, where the whole of God's community--all through time and space--is gathered together. Worship is a glimpse into the future that God holds, and it's a good time...

There's lots of things I love the tradition of painting the images of saints on the walls of churches. Mostly, I love the way it reminds us of our belonging in this really big community, and that our church life today comes along with the blessing and spiritual presence of our ancestors in faith. "A cloud of witnesses," Paul called them, in his letter to the Hebrews.

When I visited Crete recently, with the World Council of Churches' Faith and Order Plenary, we worshiped on Sunday at the Cathedral of Kastelli-Kissamos on western Crete. Though the Divine Liturgy was ancient, the cathedral building is modern, and some of the frescoes were still being painted. Which left this set of saints toward the back of the main nave:

Some others and I wondered if these were left here as in invitation--a sort of "if you were a saint, your picture could be here." An invitation to church to remember that we are among those called to be witnesses to Christ's love in a way that has power even after our deaths.

This week, we'll read a story from the Hebrew Bible of a woman who made a powerful choice for belonging with another, as we begin Ruth's story. And, we'll remember the law that's at the heart of our life in the church: our command to love God and neighbor.

In all this, we'll also be remembering the saints in our midst--members of our congregation, families and community who have died in the past year. And, as always, we'll gather at the communion table in a feast that connects us to them, by the mystery of God.

Hope to see you there.

For such a time as this

When I was a kid, I used to spend hours reading stories from the Old Testament. I loved them--all those vivid accounts of God interacting with his people; all those fascinating characters.

Esther was always one of my favorites... As a little girl, I loved to read about the beautiful woman who became a queen, and who dared to bend the rules and save her people from destruction. See, Esther started out as just another girl, but God used her to deliver an entire population from death. Talk about being in the right place at the right time.

This week, we'll hear a little of Queen Esther's story, and how she was able to use her influence to stand up for a people who didn't have a voice. We're continuing our theme of laying a foundation of good, solid life lessons, and this week's is just that: to speak up for those who can't speak for themselves, even when we might catch some flak for doing so.

Our lesson from Mark gives us more solid advice about dealing with people weaker than ourselves. It's vivid--maybe even a little shocking--but sometimes we need this kind of wake-up call. We're called to be the salt of the earth... And if we don't fill that role, then who will?

It doesn't all revolve around you.

Solar System.
Originally uploaded by popoPsan

If last week we learned to bite our tongues, this week, we get another lesson for good living from James: remember that it doesn't all revolve around you.

We're to let go of jealousy and selfish ambition, and to take up a "gentleness born of wisdom" that comes from God. And it will be a good life.

And I agree that I'd like to live in a world free of hypocrisy, selfishness, judgmentalism and the like--it's just scary to be the one to start, sometimes. I mean, really: it's hard to be considerate all the time, especially of inconsiderate people.

But, then, I guess it's not an easy work we're called to. As I was pondering this, words of an good ol' hymn popped into my head. (The third verse, so I confess that I had to Google to get 'em all right...) They come from "This is My Father's World" (with apologies for having only masculine images of God):

This is my Father's world.  
O let me ne'er forget 
that though the wrong seems oft so strong, 
God is the ruler yet.  
This is my Father's world:  
why should my heart be sad?  
The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!  
God reigns; let the earth be glad!

So we also rejoice in the words of Psalm 1, which imagine our faithfulness as infinitely stronger and more "real" than the ways of evil.

God's ReCreation

Honeycomb drip
Originally uploaded by chrisjohnbeckett

This fall, we're celebrating God's ReCreation for several weeks in worship. (We thought that after spending the summer tearing down walls of injustice, it'd be good to spend some time in re-creating the good stuff, in collaboration with God.)

There will be many good and meaningful things to come, and this week it all begins. Our scripture lessons for the week set us off in the right direction, with some basic ground rules and perspective to help in our work.

James admonishes us to watch what we say: our words can be dangerous weapons against each other and God. But, then, they also have great potential for life-giving power.

Psalm 19 lays a much more lovely vision--it sings of the beauty of God, as present in creation and in God's law. Both are deliciously sweet. (As sweet as the honeycomb's drippings, it says.)

Which is to say, I think, that it's in our power to bear sweetness or only sour. So hold your tongue. Save it for the sweet stuff...

Passing Judgment

We've all seen him--that old, scruffy guy in the intersection holding a cardboard sign emblazoned with a plea for mercy: "Unemployed, anything helps", it might say, or "Disabled, please help". And while we might roll down our windows and hand over a couple of dollars, or the change in our ash tray; while we might offer to walk over to the nearest 7-Eleven and buy him a sandwich, sometimes less-than-generous thoughts pass through our minds. We think, "Man, just get a job" or "He'll just use the money to get his next fix."

In this week's scripture from James, we are warned not to pass these kinds of judgments on the poor, because God can work through them--bless them--just as he can the rich. He loves us all as his children, rich or poor, and wants us to love each other the same way.

Jesus' ministry was all about this kind of love. We'll hear the story this week of how he met a Gentile woman who was begging for the kind of mercy that only he could give: her daughter "had an unclean spirit", and she knew that Jesus could heal the little girl. Jesus had a strange reaction--he told the woman that "it is wrong for the dogs to eat the food that was meant for the children." She responds by saying that "even the dogs eat the scraps that the children leave behind".

Instead of being affronted, she responds to Jesus with humility. She has a need, and she is not ashamed to beg for Jesus' help. Jesus has pity on her and heals her daughter, even though she is a Gentile.

We are called to this same generosity, but often we fall short. What are some judgments that we pass on those who ask it of us?

We'll use your replies in worship this Sunday, so please post your thoughts in the comments!

love song for God

springtime :)
Originally uploaded by chris bartnik photography

This week's texts might seem pretty far from each other: love poetry from Song of Solomon and a story of Jesus challenging the Pharisees and calling them out on hypocrisies.

But really, perhaps, they're not so disconnected. See if you agree:
The love poetry gives voice to what it's like to be caught up in the ecstatic joy of God's amazing love. It's an experience that's really indescribable--as incredible as the fresh beauty of springtime flowers.

When we forget this enchantment--when we lose the life-giving joy of our faith--it's easy to fall back on the lifeless forms of rigid, empty rules. And get all caught up in how other people are breaking them. How other people aren't doing the right things.

Jesus challenges the Pharisees: it's"the things that come out of you are what defiles."

Back in the springtime love poetry, all that comes out are words of love, grace and beauty.