This stone pillar is a witness

Genesis 31: 51-52 Laban continued to Jacob, “This monument of stones and this stone pillar that I have set up is a witness, a witness that I won’t cross this line to hurt you and you won’t cross this line to hurt me.”

What a bunch of tricksters in this family! Jacob tricks his brother out of his birthright. Rebekah helps him trick his father into giving him the blessing of the firstborn. Then Laban tricks Jacob into marrying Leah before Rachel and Jacob tricks Laban out of his sheep, and Rachel tricks Laban to keep him from finding the house gods she has stolen, and it goes on and on! It’s all come to a head, Jacob has taken off with his wives and children and flocks to return to the land of his father, and Laban’s looking for how he has been tricked again. When he turns up nothing that has been stolen, Jacob unleashes his pent-up anger about twenty years of slavish servitude. Finally, it is enough. They erect a pillar of stones as a testament to a new relationship based on trust and mutual respect, as a witness to a new policy of do no harm. They set up a boundary to regulate their new relationship, to define the border between their two lives.

Robert Frost once said, “Good fences make good neighbors.” (He also said something doesn’t love a wall, but that’s for another day.) That is similar to the idea expressed here. Boundaries are important for good relationships. Clarity about where you end and I begin helps differentiate what is my stuff from what is your stuff. Then I can take care of, or work on, what’s mine, and you do the same for what’s yours. Boundaries also tell us what is acceptable and what is unacceptable, what behaviors will be tolerated and which are not appropriate. Boundaries help us recognize where others are trespassing so we can call them to account. They also show up when we are trespassing against others, so we can hold ourselves accountable for our actions, repent and make amends. God is the witness who stands at the boundary, reminding us to live with integrity toward others, but also toward ourselves.

Prayer: Dear God, Boundaries are hard for me and I thank you for your divine reminder of their importance and benefits. Remind me that when I set a boundary in a relationship, I am honoring your Divine Spirit which dwells both of us and let that teach me to be firm and clear. Amen.

Observe the Sabbath

Exodus 20:8 Observe the Sabbath Day to keep it holy.

I thought it appropriate here to share with you my Sabbath practice. God set aside one day in the week for rest. We live in a 24/7 world. Many among us are working at demanding jobs – sometimes 2 or 3 – in an effort to take care of our families. Others just keep going 24/7 because we don’t know how to stop. The biggest health crisis in the country may be lack of rest, and the insatiable urges that are the result. Taking time each week to do nothing, but just rest in the Presence, could be the most important thing we can do for our health and wellbeing. At least, that’s what I decided was right for me. I started by speaking to a couple of Jewish friends who observe Sabbath to find out what they do. Then I focused on what steps I could commit to. On Saturday evening at sundown I light 2 candles and say a short prayer. I turn off the TV, the computer, the radio and don’t answer the phone until Sunday evening. I try to refrain from any activity that invites me into achievement or accomplishment. Abraham Herschel, in his poetic meditation on The Sabbath, speaks of the kind of rest you have when there is nothing more to be done; it is all finished; that is the attitude I try to bring to my Sabbath time. Some Sundays all I do is go to church and sleep. One Monday morning, through, I find myself refreshed and ready to move forward again. Many people cannot set aside a whole day, but even an hour or 2 of quiet rest without expectations or distractions can reconnect you with Spirit.

So that is why I don’t blog on Sunday.

Prayer: Dear God, We live in a world that constantly calls us to do, and measures us by what or how well we do, when all you want from us is to Be Present. Teach us to stop and be still and rest in your Divine Arms, knowing that coming back to you is to come back to ourselves. Amen.

The living one in a cemetery?

Luke 24:5b-6a Why are you looking for the living one in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up. The Message

I went to a funeral Thursday for someone I didn’t know well, though by the end of the service I felt I knew him a lot better. His presence was so alive in the room, in the hearts and minds of everyone present, it was hard even to take in that he was gone. I know that his family and close friends have a heavy road of sorrow ahead of them, but that he lives in them and will continue to live in them, until they, too, pass out of this life. He lives in relationship. Relationship is primary, all the rest is derivative, a friend of mine likes to say, and there is no time that is truer than in death.

Jesus disciples were facing that road, the end of all their hopes and dreams, and the tremendous love they felt for Jesus, but then they got the shock of their lives—Jesus alive, in human form, back with them again after the most grisly form of death. Who of us, when we’ve lost someone we love wouldn’t ask for the same thing? And who wouldn’t be terrified if it actually happened, no matter how much you might wish for it?

This is not, however, just a story about a man coming back to life, startling as that is. Lazarus came back to life and the world didn’t change. Jesus’ resurrection is on a whole different level. Jesus has broken through the barrier of human error that separates humankind from God; the cross forms a bridge, a reconnection to the God from whom we’ve become alienated through our idolatry and pride, thinking we’re in charge of everything and bowing in worship to our own mortal beings. Now there’s a direct route to the Infinite, through the spirit of Jesus Christ. New life for Jesus brings new life for all of us, and a new opportunity for relationship with God, the relational foundation for all other relationships.

Prayer: Dear God, Through the death and resurrection of your son Jesus you have restored us to right relationship with your Divinity. Today I rejoice and give thanks for your grace and power in my life. Amen.

Why have you forsaken me?

Psalm 22:1 My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Today is Good Friday and I cannot help but reflect on this sacred day in the Christian experience. Last night, I went to the Maundy Thursday service at my church, what to me is the most powerful service of the year, where the rector imitates Christ by washing the feet of chosen parishioners. The choir sang, but there was no instrumentation, just the sound of human voices lamenting the Man of Sorrows. At the end, I sat and watched the candles be put out, the altar stripped, the lights dimmed and heard the loud clang of the door, shutting fast the gates of Paradise. The light has gone out from the world.

This morning, I feel sad and lethargic, confused and upset. In the evening, long after the service, I sat in the chapel with a shrouded cross, trying to keep awake just one hour with Jesus. I think that is the hardest thing I do all year. Sleep calls to me, entices me, seduces me. Luke says that the disciples slept, drugged not just by wine but by grief, and perhaps that is one reason that watch is so difficult for me – sorrow over what I know is coming. The disciples didn’t fully understand what Jesus had been talking about, but there is no doubt that his talk of his own suffering and death dampened their spirits. So this is the mood that clouds me today. Tonight I will meditate on Christ’s last words (one of them is above), and tomorrow I will try to sit with grief and unknowing, as those early disciples did 2000 years ago. How did they make it through that Saturday of Sabbath rest knowing that Jesus was gone, their purpose in life destroyed, their only hope crushed by the Roman state? I will try to sit with them in their sorrow. It is exercise for those times when all hope is lost, all optimism gone and only despair awaits. It is remembering that even in the pit, the dark night of the soul, God is there, even though I can’t feel God or see God or touch God or even find God in prayer, God is there holding me when no one else will, carrying me when no one else can, comforting me when there is no comfort.

Prayer: Dear God, Hold me as I walk under the shadow of death. Be with all those who mourn the loss of those they love. Teach me to see you even in the dark, to know you when all knowledge seems hopeless and futile, to love you when there is nothing left of me to love, that by your love and will I may experience the joy of Resurrection life that you gave us through your son, Jesus. Amen.

Rebekah loved Jacob

Genesis 25:28 Isaac loved Esau because he loved his game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.

What is it that makes a parent love one child more than another? Isaac’s was a utilitarian love; he loved Esau’s game, so he loved Esau. But Rebekah loved Jacob, with no explanation. It suggests a wild, unreasoning love, a love born of tenderness and care. Jacob was also a quiet man, who loved the tents, whereas Esau was a more traditional male, a big game hunter. Did Rebekah love Jacob because of his quieter, more reflective nature? Because he stayed close to his mother? Isaac, also, was very close to his mother, so you could say that we have two patriarchs who are what some might call “Momma’s boys”. I know that there was a time – the 70’s perhaps – when feminists worried about how they would raise their sons. Do I stand against the culture, “feminize” him (that is allow him his softer, gentler side) and set him up for teasing and humiliation at other boys’ hands? Or do I support this notion of maleness that is so destructive in our world, the warrior, the tough guy, the unrepentant stoic? I chose to raise my son in a relationship, with all the ambiguities, compromises and balancing that goes on to support both people in maintaining connection. I think that, so far, it is serving him well, and he is also a quiet man, who is close to his mother. With only the one child, I don’t know anything about loving one’s own children differently.

But Rebekah loved Jacob, with a certain wildness and abandon. She plots and schemes to get Jacob the blessing of the firstborn, instead of its rightful heir, Esau. And even though God has told her that the older son will bow down to the younger son, does that justify the fraud she perpetrates on her old, nearly blind husband? Is she cleverly making sure God’s prophecy is fulfilled, or is she taking action that is only generously redeemed by God’s grace? What does love call us to do for our children, and what do we need to let them do themselves? And when does love call us to do something reckless, wrong, that we must resist? We don’t hear from Rebekah again, so perhaps that was the cost of what she did: to be separated from the child she loved.

No answers today, only questions. When is it the call of God and when is it our own vaulting ambition? When does love call us to leave the path of God, and when is it a tightly woven part of that path? When does love of another come at the expense of love of God? Sometimes scripture doesn’t lay it all out clearly, but calls us to a consideration of ambiguity, complexity, paradox. And so, in the words of Rilke, we must live the questions.

Prayer: Dear God, It is difficult when your guidance is not clear and clean. Love is powered by your spirit, but love can pull us off the track if it is not aligned with your purposes and your statutes. Help me discern, as I walk the path of love, your hand in all I do, that the love I share and the love I express reflect the true love you hold for the world and all your creation. Amen

Isaac whom you love

Genesis 22:2 He said, “Take your dear son Isaac whom you love and go to the land of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I’ll point out to you.”

The Message

I don’t think there is any piece of scripture harder to deal with than this one: God asking Abraham to sacrifice his son, God’s gift in Abraham’s old age and the carrier of the promise that he will father a multitude. It’s enough to make some people swear off God altogether. Some take the allegorical route, pointing out that we have to let go of our children, they don’t ultimately belong to us. (But do we sacrifice them? On the altar of what?!) Others point out that child sacrifice was part of the Canaanite religions of Baal and others; this is God’s rather dramatic way of putting an end to this horrific practice. But none of these ideas address the human experience of Abraham, going with his beloved son, Isaac, whom he loves, step by step to a place of death. Kierkegaard, in his essay on this story, talks about Abraham operating on two planes of experience. On the human plane, there is no hope at all; the death of Isaac is also the death of everything Abraham longs for and has been promised. But on the spiritual plane, the supernatural plane, Abraham takes a leap to faith, that somehow, in some way, if he is faithful, God will make it all work out. In the end, God stops the knife just in time, provides a ram for the sacrifice, and all is well.

When I look at it this way, I wonder where God is calling me that requires the sacrifice of what is most precious to me. What would that be? Where might God be calling me to do something that is harsh, cruel even, but may be necessary? I think of times I have been brought to very dark and difficult places, wondering where God was taking me, only to come through it with some understanding that I couldn’t have gotten any other way. How is Abraham different by what he has gone through? No one said this walk was easy. How is God challenging me today so that I might access a faith as deep, strong and powerful as the one Abraham lives through in this story?

Prayer: Dear God, I know you call me to put my life entirely in your hands. Teach me to trust in you even when all seems lost in darkness, as well as light, so I might enjoy the full richness of life you offer me. Amen.

Known by God

Genesis 16:13 She answered God by name, praying to the God who spoke to her, “You’re the God who sees me! Yes! He saw me; and then I saw him.”

God sees us, each of us, deep into our innermost being. God witnesses us and everything we do.

When my mother died suddenly several years ago, I was unprepared for the onslaught of grief. I loved my mother, of course, but she was a difficult person to get close to, stoic, independent and private. On my birthday, especially, I felt her loss, and I realized she had always been there, from the beginning, even before the beginning. What is my birthday if not homage to her and what she did for me? She was the one I performed for – Mommy, see, look at me, look what I did! – who had walked with me from my very first steps through all that life brought: marriage, the birth of my child, the death of my husband and then a new marriage. She stood as a witness to everything I had ever been. Did I actually even exist if she wasn’t there to see me?

Here, Hagar is discovering that God is also the witness to our lives. God sees and understands more truly than any human being possibly can. So even though my mother is gone, God is with me to witness all I have done and all I will ever do. God sees me. God is my witness. Now I perform my life for the delight of God.

Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for your witnessing presence in my life, for knowing me better than I know myself, for inviting me on your path, guiding me when I lose my way, picking me up when I stumble, rejoicing in my victories, consoling me in my defeats. Let all that I am and all that I do be for your delight and honor. Amen.

God was sorry

Genesis 6:6-7 God was sorry that he had made the human race in the first place; it broke his heart. God said, “I’ll get rid of my ruined creation, make a clean sweep: people, animals, snakes and bugs, birds—the works. I’m sorry I made them.”

God was so disgusted with how everything was going that he decided to just wipe the slate clean. I know there have been times when I felt that way about my life. When I returned to church 25 years ago was such a time. I felt I was really messing everything up, perhaps as the people in Noah’s time were doing, and I needed a fresh start. That is the miracle of conversion: God wipes my slate clean as grace for my repentance. Repentance for what? Following other Gods, primarily: the God of Success, the God of Self-Sufficiency, the God of Me. And here in Lent is another time to reflect on the ways I have lost my way and experience the fresh start of Easter. Sunday, too, is such a day. Every week I come to the altar to receive the bread and wine of the Eucharistic feast is an opportunity to cleanse myself and start fresh. The miracle of Jesus’ sacrifice for all of us and our wins is that the work is done. All I have to do to avail myself of that redemption is to be sorry for where I’ve strayed and clarify my intentions before God. Then, by God’s grace, I am given a fresh start.

In fact, every day offers such an opportunity. This morning as I sit in the Presence of the Holy, writing this, I have the opportunity to renew my commitment to live a life governed by God’s Will and God’s Love. Let me take advantage of it.

Prayer: Dear God, Every day, every moment, you offer me the gift of your grace, the opportunity for renewal and the deepening of my commitment to walk in your paths. Open my heart to hear the siren song of your call, that I may experience anew the rich texture of the life you offer, and abide in the deep connection we share. Amen.

A Note on Process

Today, as I sat to write, I only had the tickling of a verse to guide me. Sitting in stillness, listening for the spirit stirring within, I felt dry, uninspired. But this is my process, I said. I don’t have to know where it is going, just to take one step at a time. So I wrote the first sentence. As I continued to write, I was thinking, “Oh, this is no good, this isn’t going anywhere. Maybe I should skip it today, or read some more and look for something that really speaks to me.” But I ignored that voice, and heard another saying, “Just keep writing. It will reveal itself.” I have been feeling a bit distant from the intimacy of these early morning reflections on scripture, questioning whether God was still with me in this. And as I kept writing, the message that emerged addressed the very alienation I was feeling. And so I finished, feeling connected again with the Spirit that guides my life. Renewed, as invited by the spirit.

I want you reading this to understand that I don’t have an agenda per se. There is no plan, I am not looking for “Lessons” to convey. I am daily reading and listening to hear God’s voice speaking to me and my particular circumstances through scripture, and hoping, by grace, that what I write will have meaning for you, too. Sometimes I have the distinct feeling that what I am writing is for someone who may read this blog, rather than for me, but it feels so strong I want to put it out there. Other times, it is such a personal message I wonder if it will have meaning for anyone else. If you feel so moved, I hope you will let me know when I have struck home, and when I’ve missed the mark. I only pray that you will find a blessing from God through my words.

For Lamech, it's seventy-seven!

Genesis 4:24 I killed a man for wounding me, a young man who attacked me.
If Cain is avenged seven times, for Lamech it’s seventy-seven.

I puzzled quite a bit over this story of one of Cain’s descendants. Why is it here? What is it trying to tell us? And then it struck me; here we have an example of how people take God’s acts and intentions and distort them. God’s statement of avenging Cain seven times upon anyone that harmed him was a compassionate declaration of his love and protection for Cain. It was meant as a deterrent, so that Cain would come to no harm. But for Lamech, it becomes a competition, a measure of manhood, a method of self-aggrandizement. If God can do it sevenfold, he seems to be saying, I am that much greater than God I’ll multiply his by eleven! See how big I am? He puts himself in the place of God, rather than having the proper perspective of his weakness and vulnerability in the face of God’s power. He relies on his own physical strength, and probably a hair-trigger reactivity to other people’s treatment of him, tending to see an attack where there is none. When the only tool you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. So, too, when you are always ready to defend yourself, you are likely to see attacks everywhere.

How do I do this in my own life? How do I take God’s grace that has been poured out on me and use it to puff myself up, to think well of myself? When someone disagrees with me, do I see that as an attack? How often do I react to people’s words out of old patterns of defensiveness and fear, rather than trusting God in my heart and listening to understand what the other person is trying to tell me? I have noticed that as soon as I give myself a silent, “well done!” or become aware of things going well in my life, there is a persistent tendency to get sucked in by my ego-imagination, painting pictures of future triumph and renown. That is taking the blessings of God and distorting them, making them about me rather than about God’s eternal goodness. So, perhaps the question then is, how do I continue to recognize the blessings in my life as the result of God’s grace and compassion, and not my own efforts? Only in this way can I keep my will in alignment with the Eternal Will of Being.

Prayer: Dear God, It has been a week of blessing and hard work. Whenever I feel blessed or that I have accomplished something, help me remember that all I have and all I am is the product of Your Divine Favor. Remind me to bow in humility to your all-encompassing power, so that I approach my fellow human beings out of my human frailty, rather than some sense of false invulnerability. For I know my only strength and power lie in You. Amen.

God put a mark on Cain

Genesis 4:15 God told him,“No. Anyone who kills Cain will pay for it seven times over.” God put a mark on Cain to protect him so that no one who met him would kill him.

God preserves Cain. The “mark of Cain”, which did identify him as a murderer, was actually a protection. Life has barely begun and it is already marked by tragedy. The human family is just one generation old and already we have murder, fratricide. Eve is not mentioned here, but in effect she lost both sons with one blow: Abel dead, Cain driven away. How painful, too, for God, to see this little experiment already going so badly awry. God is angry (not as angry, perhaps, as he gets later, when a lot of smiting happens) but also hurt, distressed. There is just God and this one little family, and Cain, out of spite and jealousy, has murdered his brother Abel. Even so, God protects him from being killed by the other people he might meet (other people?! There are other people on earth?! Where did they come from? Ah, the mystery of scripture…)

So what does this mean to me? As a Christian, the mark of Cain is replaced by the cross at baptism, when I was marked and sealed as one of Christ’s own, forever. This mark of Cain was God’s way of saying, “This is my man, despite what he’s done, so leave him alone.” The mark of Christ is less protection (though it does have that aspect) than a call to live into my baptismal covenant. Cain never promised anything to God, but God loved him and wanted to protect him anyway. Baptism calls me to respond to God’s saving love and grace in the way I live my life. And what does that mean but to live a life with God in the center of it, rather than my own needs, desires, and, as in Cain’s case, passions?

Prayer: Dear God, You have called me and blessed me. Let me view this day as an opportunity to step into the life you call me to, centered on your word and your peace. Amen.

You know each life from the inside

2Chronicles 6:30 Listen from your home in heaven, forgive and reward us: reward each life and circumstance, for you know each life from the inside, (you’re the only one with such inside knowledge.)

I have always been interested in psychology, whether it shows up in literature, movies or the people I know. I think there is a central conceit, though, to psychology that is pointed out here. I can analyze, explain, use all kinds of psychological theories to describe a person and why they do what they do, and in the end, I don’t really know anything about them. Their interior life is truly a mystery to me, no matter how much I may “understand”. Only God, who has access to our thoughts and feelings from the inside out, truly has access to that inner reality.

In my arrogance, out of such psychological “knowledge”, I can also do all kinds of harm, thinking I know what is best for others, making judgments of them based on their exterior circumstances, or on myself for not matching up to that exterior, what 12-Step calls “judging my insides by other people’s outsides.” I can also get sucked into all kinds of interpersonal traps, seduced by a showy outside when I haven’t fully taken stock of what may be on the inside, or simply caught in a web by my own need or desire to understand that mystery at the heart of another human being, especially someone I love. Recognizing that only God has such access to another can be a guide, or a first step, to recognizing the mystery of the other, holding off on my good-intentioned meddling, or simply standing back and letting go of trying to fathom the unfathomable. Thus, the strings that bind me are set free. There is still connection, after all, but freed from the seductive pull of chasing down some illusory and ultimately uncertain understanding about another, I can be more present with the person as they are, not as I would have them, and that leaves me free to connect in the ways that work for me, and let go of the ways that don’t.

Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for the revelation of this truth about my errors in relationships. . Help me to remember that only You can know truly what is at the heart of another human being. Let me be humble in my aspirations of knowing others, respectful of their understanding of themselves and the world and honoring of their truth as well as my own. Amen.

Who is capable?

2Chronicles 2:6 But who is capable of building such a structure: Why, the skies—the entire cosmos!—can’t begin to contain him. And me, who am I to think I can build a house adequate for God—burning incense to him is about all I’m good for! (The Message)

We see such a different picture of Solomon here in Chronicles than we did in Kings. I see a young man, in awe of his warrior father, a strong and charismatic leader, who has come to the throne after a bloody, divisive struggle among his older brothers, all of whom have been killed. He asks for wisdom because he doesn’t know how he’s going to rule this “mob of people”. Perhaps he is still struggling with his grief over the bloodshed, the loss of his father, whom he perhaps idolized. So he expresses here his feeling of total inadequacy to the task: not only is God beyond anything humans can build to contain him, but Solomon is only fit for the simplest of tasks, burning incense.

The funny thing is, I know as I read that this Solomon is going to be greater than his father in some ways; he is going to rule over the flowering of Israelite culture, the writing down of the first sacred texts, and a time of unprecedented peace. Rulers come from all over the known world to marvel at his wisdom and skill as a ruler. This is the man who here feels so inadequate? So we have to look at the standards he is measuring himself by—the skills of his father, David. But what David did was to set the stage for the flowering Solomon reigns over. I think of the Medicis: Cosimo, the father, accumulated all the wealth as a very sharp businessman in Florence, but it was his son, Lorenzo, who reigned over the flowering of the Renaissance (spending nearly all the money Cosimo made – and aren’t we glad he did!)

I think we all find ourselves in a similar place as young people. I am measuring myself by the standards of the culture that forms my foundation, but not the culture of the future, where I will reach my flowering whatever it is. As young people, our parents loom like giants over us, already so experienced, already so knowledgeable, who are we to think we know how to do things for ourselves, break out in new directions? And here I am, at a time of life when my parents are both gone, and I am now in that position of elder, and what do I know about the life my son needs to lead to move forward into a future I may never know? Like Solomon, I am more and more aware of the inadequacy of my abilities to manage my life, which is why I find myself leaning more and more heavily on the God who cannot be contained, who is wider and broader and deeper than any human knowledge or understanding that I might find.

Prayer: Dear God, You have blessed me with this glimpse into the soul of Solomon, and given me a perspective that goes far beyond my everyday worries and concerns. Help me grasp hold of this perspective and let it guide me through my days, so that I reckon my inadequacy in the face of your all saving power and love. Amen.

Take heart!

1Chronicles 28:20 David continued to address Solomon: “Take charge! Take heart! Don’t be anxious or get discouraged. God, my God, is with you in this; he won’t walk off and leave you in the lurch. He’s at your side until every last detail is completed for conducting the worship of God.

David has just handed his young son, Solomon, an enormous project: the building of the Temple for God. David has stockpiled materials and developed extensive plans, in response to God’s divine communication, and they are elaborate. I can only imagine that Solomon was completely overwhelmed. I know that I get that way frequently, regularly. Life in all of its complexity often seems overwhelming! And I can think of no other encouragement as helpful as this (plus a good nap): that God is at my side.

God is not in the forsaking business. We humans, frail and errant, often find we cannot follow through on what we intended. All of us have at times been on the receiving end of that – and, if we are honest, probably the giving end as well. We’re doing the best we can, but sometimes we just can’t follow through. God never fails. We may feel lost, but God is there. When everyone else deserts you, God takes your hand. So when I, inevitably, get anxious, or discouraged, I take the time to stop and connect with God, to remember that God abides in me as I abide in God, and to lean on God in whatever way I can. ‘Don’t worry,’ God tells me, ‘we’ll get through this.’

Prayer: Dear God, As I move forward in my intention to reclaim my space, the project seems absolutely overwhelming at times. Remind me of your presence in everything I do, that I may call on your strength when mine fails, and find your hope when I am discouraged. And through it all, keep me always grateful for your presence in my life. Amen.