During a recent orientation session we participated in a Bible study(several actually). The Bible study was from the lectionary for this Sunday; Luke 14:1,7-14.
On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.
When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. "When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, `Give this person your place,' and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, `Friend, move up higher'; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
He said also to the one who had invited him, "When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."
One of Jesus' parables. How he loved to teach in parables, he invites you in and then – wham!
There you are looking in the mirror.
When I reflected on this passage I was reminded of several clergy that I have known and who have been a positive influenced on me. These specific clergy, both Bishop, Priest, and Deacon, were humble. How I wish I could say that all clergy, and all humankind for that matter, reflected the humbleness that Christ asked for, but we are all human so that is not the case. Though these specific clergy through their humbleness were also the most powerful and most effective clergy with whom I have been associated.
My reflection led me to see that those clergy who seemed to seek power seemed to have power elude them. And those clergy who freely gave power to others seem to be the most powerful and the most effective. I write this not to criticize any clergy in general or specific, rather this is a written note to myself, a reminder. I was so profoundly affected by the realization that their effectiveness resulted from their humbleness that I wanted to remind myself of this. I want to model my own life after their example. The lessons of Christ and the modeling by these clergy will guide me as I form my own life and ministry.
I also want to thank those clergy for modeling for me Christ's invitation to be humble.
Your servant in Christ,
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
When you sing you pray twice.
Registering for fall classes should not seem like a challenge but I found some interesting hurdles this year. In the past, as a first year student the path was clear. Now as a middler the path is confused by my transferring to a different seminary. I can't proceed with a typical middler schedule as there are some remaining 1st year requirements that have presented themselves due to the transfer. Well this is not really a big hurdle, just something that deserves attention.
The hurdle I found is listening to what I need to take compared to what I want to take. By 'need' I am not thinking about academic requirements, rather I am thinking about what I 'need' to become a better person and potentially better priest.
So I looked at the courses that I did not want to take; things that would make me turn and run. Chief among them is a course in singing for the musically challenged. Yes, that course would make me turn and run, so I signed up for that course.
I guess that if I am going to wear the fancy clothes then along with the Prayer Book I should be able to carry a tune. My suspicion is that the course requirements will have several text books, probably hymnals, and a bucket. Many of us need a bucket to carry a tune.
I am reminded that my wife tells me that a voice is a muscle and it just needs exercise and conditioning. This is the same person who thinks my singing is fine. I guess love is blind and tone deaf.
Well, there is a special place in heaven for the person who can teach me to sing and chant.
And while there is no prize for studying what you 'need' to study rather than what you want to study I suspect that there will be a reward someday in the future. Even if that reward is simply not attracting amorous cats or scaring little children when I sing the effort will be worthwhile.
So, this fall semester, with God's help I will learn to pray twice.
Shalom,
The hurdle I found is listening to what I need to take compared to what I want to take. By 'need' I am not thinking about academic requirements, rather I am thinking about what I 'need' to become a better person and potentially better priest.
So I looked at the courses that I did not want to take; things that would make me turn and run. Chief among them is a course in singing for the musically challenged. Yes, that course would make me turn and run, so I signed up for that course.
I guess that if I am going to wear the fancy clothes then along with the Prayer Book I should be able to carry a tune. My suspicion is that the course requirements will have several text books, probably hymnals, and a bucket. Many of us need a bucket to carry a tune.
I am reminded that my wife tells me that a voice is a muscle and it just needs exercise and conditioning. This is the same person who thinks my singing is fine. I guess love is blind and tone deaf.
Well, there is a special place in heaven for the person who can teach me to sing and chant.
And while there is no prize for studying what you 'need' to study rather than what you want to study I suspect that there will be a reward someday in the future. Even if that reward is simply not attracting amorous cats or scaring little children when I sing the effort will be worthwhile.
So, this fall semester, with God's help I will learn to pray twice.
Shalom,
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Bacon and Eggs
Doctors and cholesterol take the backseat, I do enjoy bacon and eggs for breakfast. It is a guilty pleasure. Now however I have more appreciation for the meal.
It requires both pigs and chickens to make bacon and eggs. But it does not require the same of each. The chicken contributes eggs to the meal. The pig however is totally committed to the bacon; it requires complete sacrifice.
Well in the past, I have been the chicken. I chose to attend a seminary in my home town. Life was disrupted and income affected, however it could return to a semblance of normal if it did not work out. Yes, like the chicken I was only contributing to my seminary education and theological formation.
Well now pigs can fly. And this pig has flown the coupe to go to Alexandria VA. The house is sold, the boxes and bags are packed. The entire family is making a new home and new friends in a new state and new town. My seminary education is continuing in a way best described as being totally committed. Life can no longer return to the previous normal.
I have become as committed to my calling as the pig is committed to bacon.
I have my wife and son to thank for allowing me to be this committed without being led to slaughter.
Peace,
It requires both pigs and chickens to make bacon and eggs. But it does not require the same of each. The chicken contributes eggs to the meal. The pig however is totally committed to the bacon; it requires complete sacrifice.
Well in the past, I have been the chicken. I chose to attend a seminary in my home town. Life was disrupted and income affected, however it could return to a semblance of normal if it did not work out. Yes, like the chicken I was only contributing to my seminary education and theological formation.
Well now pigs can fly. And this pig has flown the coupe to go to Alexandria VA. The house is sold, the boxes and bags are packed. The entire family is making a new home and new friends in a new state and new town. My seminary education is continuing in a way best described as being totally committed. Life can no longer return to the previous normal.
I have become as committed to my calling as the pig is committed to bacon.
I have my wife and son to thank for allowing me to be this committed without being led to slaughter.
Peace,
Saturday, July 17, 2010
If it is broken, bless it
Jesus took the bread and he blessed it. He broke it and give it to his disciples.
Jesus took the fish and blessed it, he broke it and his disciples gave it to the multitudes.
Take. Bless. Break. Give. The last supper in the upper room, the feeding of the 5000. This is a common theme in the Christian faith. Take, bless, give all makes sense; however, it is when you consider “break” that questions arise. Why must something be broken?
But is it not in our brokenness that we are made whole and holy?
When I started this blog the name “Stained Glass Reflections” just came to me. I have learned to not ignore such inspirations and now I see why this name presented itself. Stained Glass Windows are made up of individual pieces of glass. Each piece is a fragment of the larger piece of which it was once part. It is now a broken piece of glass. It is in its brokenness that the small piece of glass can be united with other broken pieces of glass. It is the unity of all these broken pieces of glass from which emerge a Stained Glass Window. It is broken glass that creates the beauty of a stained glass window. It is in its brokenness that the glass is whole and holy.
As a summer intern in a CPE program this brokenness comes to me daily in the patients that I see. They come to the medical center because of vehicle accident, trauma, gun shot, heart attack, stroke and illness of all manners. And they come in a manner that is often broken and holy. As a chaplain I am to minister to the patient and their family. As a student I learn daily from the patients that I see. I often wonder who gains more in this relationship, the patient or the chaplain?
I think of the patient who I prayed with prior to surgery. This patient had multiple diagnosis any one of which would be overwhelming to must of us, certainly to me. Yet this patient was at peace with their life, with their death, with their Christ. I learned from their brokenness and pray to reach the level of peace that they have found.
I think of the patient who died too young after too long in the hospital. This patient told me how they had found Christ only days before our first meeting. I spoke often with the patient's parents. It was in the grief of their child's impending death that they invited me into their lives to baptize the patient. Surrounded by family the patient was baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Surrounded by family and the patient I was welcomed into their family just as the patient was formally welcomed into Christ's own family. The next day we all mourned the death of the patient, but we also celebrated knowing that the patient was with Christ.
So many of the patients I see talk of the strength they have because of their faith. Some ask me how those without faith manage being in the medical center, it is a question I can not answer. But I can see the differences.
Those who come to this medical center broken so often bless me with their gifts. It is in their brokenness that I am made holy.
It is in the brokenness of the glass that the window becomes beautiful and holy.
Take. Bless. Break. Give. It is in our brokenness that we can give to each other.
Shalom,
Jesus took the fish and blessed it, he broke it and his disciples gave it to the multitudes.
Take. Bless. Break. Give. The last supper in the upper room, the feeding of the 5000. This is a common theme in the Christian faith. Take, bless, give all makes sense; however, it is when you consider “break” that questions arise. Why must something be broken?
But is it not in our brokenness that we are made whole and holy?
When I started this blog the name “Stained Glass Reflections” just came to me. I have learned to not ignore such inspirations and now I see why this name presented itself. Stained Glass Windows are made up of individual pieces of glass. Each piece is a fragment of the larger piece of which it was once part. It is now a broken piece of glass. It is in its brokenness that the small piece of glass can be united with other broken pieces of glass. It is the unity of all these broken pieces of glass from which emerge a Stained Glass Window. It is broken glass that creates the beauty of a stained glass window. It is in its brokenness that the glass is whole and holy.
As a summer intern in a CPE program this brokenness comes to me daily in the patients that I see. They come to the medical center because of vehicle accident, trauma, gun shot, heart attack, stroke and illness of all manners. And they come in a manner that is often broken and holy. As a chaplain I am to minister to the patient and their family. As a student I learn daily from the patients that I see. I often wonder who gains more in this relationship, the patient or the chaplain?
I think of the patient who I prayed with prior to surgery. This patient had multiple diagnosis any one of which would be overwhelming to must of us, certainly to me. Yet this patient was at peace with their life, with their death, with their Christ. I learned from their brokenness and pray to reach the level of peace that they have found.
I think of the patient who died too young after too long in the hospital. This patient told me how they had found Christ only days before our first meeting. I spoke often with the patient's parents. It was in the grief of their child's impending death that they invited me into their lives to baptize the patient. Surrounded by family the patient was baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Surrounded by family and the patient I was welcomed into their family just as the patient was formally welcomed into Christ's own family. The next day we all mourned the death of the patient, but we also celebrated knowing that the patient was with Christ.
So many of the patients I see talk of the strength they have because of their faith. Some ask me how those without faith manage being in the medical center, it is a question I can not answer. But I can see the differences.
Those who come to this medical center broken so often bless me with their gifts. It is in their brokenness that I am made holy.
It is in the brokenness of the glass that the window becomes beautiful and holy.
Take. Bless. Break. Give. It is in our brokenness that we can give to each other.
Shalom,
Thursday, May 27, 2010
A stranger in the land
Several things have been bothering me for the past several weeks and I now see that they are connected. As usual, it was the Holy Spirit that woke me up.
There were two letters to the editor in the local paper this past month. The first talked about the need for immigrants to speak American in this country. I am not making that up – the writer really thinks American is the official language of the U.S.
The second writer was concerned about the preservation and dissemination of Americanism (preservation and dissemination are my words not those of the original writer). I had to wonder if that was left or right Americanism or red or blue Americanism? Was it 21st century Americanism or 18th century Americanism? And what is Americanism?
When did the all the immigrants who came to this country without invitation from the indigenous population begin to speak American and display Americanism?
Then the Holy Spirit brought me the readings for Pentecost. This passage is particularly meaningful to me because it was the first reading I ever did as a Lector in church; and look at what trouble that caused. From The Acts of the Apostles 2.1-21 we have this excerpt:
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs-- in our own languages we hear them speaking about God's deeds of power."
I lived in South Florida for several years around 1980 and it was not uncommon to hear Spanish from the large Cuban population. At the time there was even an effort to make English the official language of Florida. Today in a small community in Pennsylvania it is not uncommon to hear Spanish as well as dozens of other languages. The local school district has somewhere over 30 different languages represented in the student body. In many ways it is music to my ears as I reflect on the wonders of each of these unique cultures. It is also sad for me to think that I can not communicate, even a little, with most of those brothers and sisters in their own language.
While I realize that being functional in English is important to someone living in the US so that they can be productive, stripping them of their own language is not the answer. Forcing the American language or Americanism culture upon someone is disrespectful.
The final piece to this puzzle came to me from a recent op-ed piece written by Rabbi Jack Paskoff where he makes a plea for compassion. Rabbi Paskoff reminds us of the words of the Hebrew Bible that say "You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt" (Exodus 23:9). Very few of us can claim that we or our families were not also strangers in the land of the US. But how many of us can claim compassion for the stranger in our land?
PAZ,
There were two letters to the editor in the local paper this past month. The first talked about the need for immigrants to speak American in this country. I am not making that up – the writer really thinks American is the official language of the U.S.
The second writer was concerned about the preservation and dissemination of Americanism (preservation and dissemination are my words not those of the original writer). I had to wonder if that was left or right Americanism or red or blue Americanism? Was it 21st century Americanism or 18th century Americanism? And what is Americanism?
When did the all the immigrants who came to this country without invitation from the indigenous population begin to speak American and display Americanism?
Then the Holy Spirit brought me the readings for Pentecost. This passage is particularly meaningful to me because it was the first reading I ever did as a Lector in church; and look at what trouble that caused. From The Acts of the Apostles 2.1-21 we have this excerpt:
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs-- in our own languages we hear them speaking about God's deeds of power."
I lived in South Florida for several years around 1980 and it was not uncommon to hear Spanish from the large Cuban population. At the time there was even an effort to make English the official language of Florida. Today in a small community in Pennsylvania it is not uncommon to hear Spanish as well as dozens of other languages. The local school district has somewhere over 30 different languages represented in the student body. In many ways it is music to my ears as I reflect on the wonders of each of these unique cultures. It is also sad for me to think that I can not communicate, even a little, with most of those brothers and sisters in their own language.
While I realize that being functional in English is important to someone living in the US so that they can be productive, stripping them of their own language is not the answer. Forcing the American language or Americanism culture upon someone is disrespectful.
The final piece to this puzzle came to me from a recent op-ed piece written by Rabbi Jack Paskoff where he makes a plea for compassion. Rabbi Paskoff reminds us of the words of the Hebrew Bible that say "You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt" (Exodus 23:9). Very few of us can claim that we or our families were not also strangers in the land of the US. But how many of us can claim compassion for the stranger in our land?
PAZ,
Friday, May 21, 2010
Ears to hear
I am convinced that God is alive and well and quite talkative. We just need to listen. God speaks to us in many ways. This is not usually the Bill Cosby variety where he used a booming voice to call out “Noah, NOAH, I want you to build me an ark.” In the skit even Noah said “Who is the really? Am I on Candid Camera?”
No I think God is much more subtle than that. He often speaks to us in our dreams. Not the type were you need to psychoanalyze every dream; but rather, waking up and knowing what you are to do. Writing this blog post is one example. I woke up knowing what to say, I just hope I remember it because at 3am it sounded really good.
God also talks to us through other people. People we interact with in the course of our day help guide and direct us. Some of those people are not there by mere coincidence.
Sometimes a piece of scripture will speak to us. It may be something we have read before. Or it may be a new passage that we found just when we needed it.
Yes, God is talking – but why are we not listening?
Case in point, Floyd Landis. Floyd was raised in a very devout Mennonite home. I would think that he should recognize when God is trying to get his point across. Yet according to Floyd Landis, he began using performance enhancing drugs in 2002. Why did he not listen to that voice in 2002 that said not only are the PEDs dangerous, but they are wrong to use? Then in 2006 when he was caught using the drugs he lied to the world. More profoundly, he lied to his parents. I firmly believe that God was trying many different ways to tell Floyd to stand strong with the truth and then try to resurrect his life.
Now Floyd says “I lied then, but now I am telling the truth” and he is implicating other riders. God wants us to be united in brotherhood, not accuse our brothers. Floyd is still not listening.
What is it about our society that makes it so difficult to listen to God? I denied my own calling to the ministry for decades. I am sure others are also missing the message about their calling, whether in ministry or the secular world. One only has to see the front page of the paper to see those who are missing the message about ethical behaviors.
I don’t think this is a problem that is unique to those in the 21st century. However, we complicate the issue with technology and pressure for monetary achievement.
Think about Jesus walking in a crowd and he sensed that someone had touched his robe. That is awareness. Yet for many, they would not even notice the crowd because they are texting or talking on the cell phone.
Can we become more aware? Prayer time helps. Removing some the technology distractions would be a good start (even just for a little while). Stopping to study a flower, really look at it closely, might open you up to hear.
When I enter a place of worship I begin by kneeling in prayer. Often I simply ask that God open my eyes to see, my ears to hear, and my heart to feel. May this also be true for you.
Shalom,
Sunday, March 28, 2010
I have plenty of time
Life changed a lot about 4 weeks ago when I met with the Bishop. It seems that I will have to study a least one year at an Episcopal Seminary. This was not always the case as there were plans for local formation – however it is the case now. My family and I have talked about this and prayed about this.
We reached a consensus that my commuting to
We signed with a realtor two days ago. For the last two weeks we have started to prepare our home for the sales market. Oops, it is no longer our home, it is now a property to be marketed and sold – that is taking some getting used to.
What strikes me is that much of what we have been doing, and will be doing in the prep work are all things we have talked about doing before and just never got around to doing. The walls that I have painted needed painting before. The microwave needed to be replaced before and now it has been replaced. The clutter that is being tossed or donated could have gone away long ago. It is a long list of to-do items none of which are surprises or revelations. It is just now we have a deadline and so they are getting done.
How often is this the case for the important things in our life?
What about the friends we intend to call? Or the musical instrument we want to learn to play? Or the family member we have not spoken with in so many years? Or the person we need to look at and say “I love you” or “thank you”?
Well these things can wait because the deadline is kind of fuzzy. We don’t know when we will die, or when they will die so there is no hurry. Right? After all the realtor needs to get the property (not home) on the MLS system so that deadline is coming quickly. The other things can wait.
Each year we walk with Jesus for the 40 days of Lent and then Holy Week. All so that He can die and be resurrected. We know precisely when this will occur and our schedules can be adjusted accordingly. It is our own mortality that is not on our schedule.
In the last week I have painted, replaced a microwave, and fixed little items here and there. I am glad to have done these things; but I also told my family that I was sorry I did not do these things sooner so we could enjoy them. There is other unfinished business too. I guess I better get them done now so we can all enjoy them for what I hope is a long time.
Diane, I love you. Parr, you are my son, my beloved, and with you I am well pleased.
Shalom,
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
