Nehemiah 5:13 Everyone gave a wholehearted, "Yes, we'll do it" and praised God. And the people did what they promised.
Wow. This Nehemiah really has his heart and mind in the right place -- on the things of God -- and yet he is shrewd and wily as a snake. He has come back to Jerusalem, with other exiles of the Babylonian captivity, now taken over by the Persian empire. He inspires the people to rebuild the wall around Jerusalem, in rubble after the long exile, and works right along beside them. When the poor protest against the unfair practices of the nobles and officials who are gouging their fellow Israelites with high interest rates, taking over their lands and selling them into slavery, Nehemiah calls these nobles and officials to account, charging them to lower interest rates, stop seizing lands and selling their fellows into slavery. And they agree, and follow through and actually change their behavior! Enemies try to lure him away, to get him to quit, and he evades their traps. And he doesn't even use the full allowance accorded to him as governor, because he doesn't need it and doesn't want to add to the people's burdens.
All in all, these are some very eery parallels to our own times: the need to rebuild infrastructure, people falling prey to high interest rates and mortgage foreclosures, foreign enemies who continue to want to terrorize us, and most likely this new administration will have plenty of doomsayers who will decry his every move. More important than any of these things, though, will be his ability to call all of us to account, to inspire our participation in his vision of a rebuilt community. We know that Obama is not the Messiah or some other Godlike figure; he is just a human like you and me. So was Nehemiah. We need a Nehemiah to bring all the scattered flocks under one shepherd, to forge the unity of purpose we need in this nation to meet the challenges of this new century. Freezing staff salaries in the face of climbing unemployment may have more symbolic value than actual impact, but it's certainly a step in the right direction.
Prayer: Dear God, I pray that Barack Obama may be the Nehemiah we need. So many are hurting in this country and in the world. We are only as strong as our weakest members. Give our president the power to strengthen us as a community so that nothing can really threaten us. Amen.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Coming Home
Ezra 3:12-13 Many of the older priests, Levites and family heads who had seen the first Temple, when they saw the foundations of this Temple laid wept loudly for joy. People couldn't distinguish the shouting from the weeping.
What does it mean to come home? These Israelites had been in exile in Babylon for over 100 years, and here they were back in Jerusalem, watching the Temple be rebuilt, seeing their life restored. I love that the author notes you couldn't tell the weeping from the shouting. It's all emotional tumult: the joy of return, the pain of all that time away, pain which maybe couldn't even be fully acknowledged until this moment, because to acknowledge it fully would have been to recognize the utter defeat, the despair of being carried off into captivity.
Do we "modern" people have the same sense of home these ancient peoples did? A Jewish friend of mine described a powerful sense of homecoming when she went to Israel -- and I can only imagine what it felt like to Jews emigrating to newly born Israel after the Holocaust, the power of that homecoming. I felt some sense of that when I went to Scotland where my ancestors are from. But I think for me, my sense of my physical home is more malleable, perhaps where I happen to be at any particular time. That powerful sense of belonging which some call home, I experience through my faith, through my relationship with God, who is not confined to any one place.
Still, these days I am experiencing a taste of that physical homecoming. I am clearing my house out of years of accumulated stuff. The backyard, which was inundated and unapproachable for years, is under construction. I can see my walls and walk in my rooms without bumping into things. Relationship changes have led to this new openness, this reclamation project, and since change is fraught I am excited and anxious, joyful and weeping as I find myself coming home.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for all the pain and challenges that have led me to this point, and for the new and spacious home that is opening before me. Let it be a place where You dwell in serenity and peace. Amen
What does it mean to come home? These Israelites had been in exile in Babylon for over 100 years, and here they were back in Jerusalem, watching the Temple be rebuilt, seeing their life restored. I love that the author notes you couldn't tell the weeping from the shouting. It's all emotional tumult: the joy of return, the pain of all that time away, pain which maybe couldn't even be fully acknowledged until this moment, because to acknowledge it fully would have been to recognize the utter defeat, the despair of being carried off into captivity.
Do we "modern" people have the same sense of home these ancient peoples did? A Jewish friend of mine described a powerful sense of homecoming when she went to Israel -- and I can only imagine what it felt like to Jews emigrating to newly born Israel after the Holocaust, the power of that homecoming. I felt some sense of that when I went to Scotland where my ancestors are from. But I think for me, my sense of my physical home is more malleable, perhaps where I happen to be at any particular time. That powerful sense of belonging which some call home, I experience through my faith, through my relationship with God, who is not confined to any one place.
Still, these days I am experiencing a taste of that physical homecoming. I am clearing my house out of years of accumulated stuff. The backyard, which was inundated and unapproachable for years, is under construction. I can see my walls and walk in my rooms without bumping into things. Relationship changes have led to this new openness, this reclamation project, and since change is fraught I am excited and anxious, joyful and weeping as I find myself coming home.
Prayer: Dear God, I thank you for all the pain and challenges that have led me to this point, and for the new and spacious home that is opening before me. Let it be a place where You dwell in serenity and peace. Amen
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The unraveling thread of Change
Change! It is so difficult! Even good changes are stressful; that's why getting married is near the top of the list of most stressful events. All I did was get a new computer with an upgraded operating system -- so all my gadgets need to be upgraded too -- and it feels like my world is coming apart. I'm irritable and depressed. Why is this so difficult?
First of all, my routines are shot. My PDA is so old I can't even upgrade it, and it is the one program that I regularly refer to. Now, I've got to get out my old laptop and use it along with the new computer (I know, a plethora of privilege here), instead of just clicking a tab. All of this is strange and uncomfortable. I feel discombobulated. Things don't go smoothly because I'm learning new routines and then I feel stupid because I don't know what I'm doing. Add to this that I've completely reorganized my office to make room for the new computer, and I can't find anything and it's all in some level of chaos. I'm anxious and irritable because I don't feel comfortable yet, and this change thing keeps spreading and I don't know how far it will go. I feel depressed because it all makes me feel like a dimwit and overwhelmed and above all out of control.
So I sat down last night and said, what are the assumptiong I'm operating under? What are the expectations that aren't being met, that is leading to all this emotional distress? Do I think this should all be easy? That I should be able to do it without some level of challenge? Am I supposed to be on top of things, every minute, no matter what? Who said? Where do these notions come from?
Once I stopped and recognized these assumptions, and brought balance to my thinking by reflecting on the tragic and painful difficulties that others on this globe are enduring -- even those in my own city -- I was able to relax and engage in my tasks (like changing the sheets) with some humility and submission, a recognition of my frailty, my humanness. Yes, I moan and whine and complain, just like everyone else.
Spirituality is about living into our humanness, about embracing our faults, our frailty our finiteness, rather than skipping over it, putting on a together face and operating only out of our competence. It's about being present with our falling apart as it is happening. The paradox is that by surrendering to my humanity, by giving into my frailty, by recognizing and accepting my own inadequacy in the face of life's challenges, I may suddenly transcend difficulty and find myself in a blessed space of peace, even as I move through the tasks that irked me just a moment before. That, to me, is the Presence of God.
Prayer: Dear God, Help me to follow this thread of change, wherever it leads, guided by your gracious and invisible hand. Help me be present with each moment so that I don't become overwhelmed but just take one step at a time into Your Gracious Heart. Amen.
First of all, my routines are shot. My PDA is so old I can't even upgrade it, and it is the one program that I regularly refer to. Now, I've got to get out my old laptop and use it along with the new computer (I know, a plethora of privilege here), instead of just clicking a tab. All of this is strange and uncomfortable. I feel discombobulated. Things don't go smoothly because I'm learning new routines and then I feel stupid because I don't know what I'm doing. Add to this that I've completely reorganized my office to make room for the new computer, and I can't find anything and it's all in some level of chaos. I'm anxious and irritable because I don't feel comfortable yet, and this change thing keeps spreading and I don't know how far it will go. I feel depressed because it all makes me feel like a dimwit and overwhelmed and above all out of control.
So I sat down last night and said, what are the assumptiong I'm operating under? What are the expectations that aren't being met, that is leading to all this emotional distress? Do I think this should all be easy? That I should be able to do it without some level of challenge? Am I supposed to be on top of things, every minute, no matter what? Who said? Where do these notions come from?
Once I stopped and recognized these assumptions, and brought balance to my thinking by reflecting on the tragic and painful difficulties that others on this globe are enduring -- even those in my own city -- I was able to relax and engage in my tasks (like changing the sheets) with some humility and submission, a recognition of my frailty, my humanness. Yes, I moan and whine and complain, just like everyone else.
Spirituality is about living into our humanness, about embracing our faults, our frailty our finiteness, rather than skipping over it, putting on a together face and operating only out of our competence. It's about being present with our falling apart as it is happening. The paradox is that by surrendering to my humanity, by giving into my frailty, by recognizing and accepting my own inadequacy in the face of life's challenges, I may suddenly transcend difficulty and find myself in a blessed space of peace, even as I move through the tasks that irked me just a moment before. That, to me, is the Presence of God.
Prayer: Dear God, Help me to follow this thread of change, wherever it leads, guided by your gracious and invisible hand. Help me be present with each moment so that I don't become overwhelmed but just take one step at a time into Your Gracious Heart. Amen.
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