Weekly Reflection--March 31

Diocesan Bishop, Ian Douglas, will visit St. Francis this Sunday.  He will preach and preside at the 10AM service, greet members of the parish during the expanded coffee hour, and then meet with the vestry for a discussion with the leadership of the parish.   

In preparation for his visit and this discussion, the Bishop sent three questions for the vestry to consider.  I offer them now to everyone as food for ongoing personal and collective thought.  Bishop Douglas's questions emerge from the core belief that the mission of God is centered around reconciliation and restoration.  The questions are:

1)  Tell one story about when you, as an individual, felt caught up in God's mission of restoration and reconciliation in your own life.  Be as specific as possible in telling the story.  Tell the story in the present tense, using the first person ("I")

2) Tell one story about when, as a part of the Body of Christ (your parish, some part of your congregation/vestry, the Diocese of Connecticut, an ecumenical group, etc) you were actively involved in God's mission. 

3)  Given these stories, what is God up to now, in your life and in the life of your community?  How might you/we better join God in that mission?  

In a gathering last spring, Bishop Douglas introduced these questions as part of a deliberative process for  individuals and communities to consider what God calls us to in our life, our life together, and life here and now.  It is easy to see that the stories told when addressing these questions create a narrative, a narrative that can be broken down into:  

The story of I 

The story of Us

The story of Now 

And this is how we often engage the world--consciously or unconsciously-- is it not?  We think about our own lives (or perhaps we sometimes obsess about our lives). and we are concerned about the life we share with others (e.g. families, friends, communities, workplaces, church, recreation, and on and on), and while we reflect back and anticipate what will come, we live--like it or not--very much here and now.   

What is wonderful about the questions the Bishop asks is the implicit belief that God is up to something with each one of us, with the collectives that we are called church, and God is very much present with us right now.  And why not?  Ours is a tradition that holds incarnation (enfleshment and embodiment) up as central to how God works, and affirms that God works in the world!!   

I suspect too often we think that religious or spiritual matters are "special" or profound or occur because of deep connection or transformation.  While this can be the case, I wonder if we miss so much of the presence of God and the work of God around us because we are looking so hard for major events, when all the while God is right in front of our nose.   

God is in all of the activities of our day.  God presides over the activities of the various groups of which we are a part.  The presence of the Holy permeates each moment.  The trick, of course, is figuring out what exactly God is up to in each situation and each moment.  That is a story that takes a lifetime to tell.   

Yet, we catch glimpses.  We hear the encouragement of another to utilize the gifts God gives us, and there is a bit of God speaking.  We encounter moments that should not possess any grace and yet yield a surprise and we feel the rush of God walking by.  We share simple and tender and life-giving moments and we don't need the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to affirm the goodness of those times.  A simple, "Amen," will suffice.  And there are just so many more ways that God is present in your life, our life, and this life now.

The season of Lent is a gift in that it calls us to slow down a bit and to consider our lives and God's presence in life.  We are invited to slow down and consider the questions of Bishop Douglas and, hopefully, to recognize a bit more of God in our own story, our story of life together, and the story of now.  Of course, the story-telling doesn't end with Lent.  There's a wonderful surprise that we tell in a few weeks, a surprise that has had people talking for quite some time.  And as far as I'm concerned, there is no reason to quit telling stories now!     

Blessings,

  

Mark

Ash Wednesday Sermon

A United Methodist minister tells the story of an Ash Wednesday where he just had to be different and heaved a shovelful of palm ash at his horrified congregation.  One parishioner was heard to remark in a whispered gasp, "This is a terrible imposition!"

Humor may not be the first thing that comes to mind when considering Ash Wednesday.  But, the pastor's tale is hardly the only humor-tinged thing related to Ash Wednesday.  I think the people who select the texts that we read week in and week out as well as choose the readings for this day have a delightful sense of humor.  Who else selects a text that warns, "Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them, for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven," and then pair this text with the very public imposition of ashes on peoples' foreheads.  It's pretty hard to confuse those who attend Ash Wednesday services and those who do not!  (Needless to say, those of you attending the evening service have the cover of night to help you out from being too public in your piety!)

Unfortunately, Ash Wednesday has morphed into a day of doom and gloom among some people.  "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return," has become the refrain of what many consider a macabre and morose liturgy.  Indeed, some have called Ash Wednesday the most uncomfortable day of the church year, and this makes sense.  Right?  How often do we consciously and actively reflect upon our mortality? For a parent holding a tiny child and hearing the truth spoken as ashes are traced upon her brow, reality, for the moment, becomes quite sober.  For the newly weds or the couple married 10, 20, 30, 40, or 50 years, these words are a stark reminder of the finality of life and the eventual end to the gift standing next to you.  To those already acutely aware of the frailty of the body-carrying cancer or another disease-the words echo what is an all too familiar reality. 

However, it is clear that Ash Wednesday is not meant to be gloomy or gruesome.  It is a healthy reminder to us-in the midst of this crazed and chaotic world-of life, the gift that is life, and the presence of God in the midst of it all and beyond.  T. S. Eliot wisely quips:

What we call the beginning is often the end   

And to make an end is to make a beginning.

     The end is where we start.

 

And so this is what we do today, make our start to this Lenten season and a start to a desire to be more fully aware of God's presence in life and more fully engaged in God's call to us to live in life by remembering our end.

Or as one ancient tale relates regarding a disciple speaking to the Holy One:

The disciple asks:  Where shall I look for Enlightenment?  "Here," the Holy One said

"When will it happen?"

"It is happening right now," the Holy One said.   

"Then why don't I experience it?""Because you do not look," the Holy One said.

"What should I look for?

"Nothing," the Holy One said,  

"Just look. '

"At what?"

    "Anything your eyes alight upon," the Holy One said.

"Must I look in a special kind of way?"

     "No," the Holy One said.  "The ordinary way will do." 

"But don't I always look the ordinary way?"

   "No," the Holy One said.  "You don't."

  "Why ever not?" the disciple demanded.

   "Because to look you must be here," the Holy One said.   

"You're mostly somewhere else."

As a good friend once said, "I resemble that remark!"  And how many of us are mostly somewhere else?  Bombarded by all the responsibilities, messages, engagements, outings, tasks, and  demands upon our time and energies, it is so very easy to be somewhere else.  The power of Ash Wednesday, in part, is to jerk us back to "here" by shocking us with the reality of our being, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return."  And "here" is not a hyper focus on our mortality so much as it is an awareness and living into the fuller presence of God and God's love for you made known to us in each moment and beyond this mortal coil. 

Indeed, Paul glimpsed a bit of this truth in his letter to the community in Corinth when he wrote, "For God says, 'At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I have helped you.'  See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!"  God invites us into the unfolding of God's mercy and grace, not something awaiting us at some undisclosed location and end of time, but here and now.  God invites us into the fullness of life that Jesus embodies-loving fully and giving wholly and unreservedly-so that we too might experience a bit of that fullness here and now.  God reminds us of our frailty not to Lord it over us but so that we might awaken to the mystery and the wonder of the moment we have been given here  and now.  Far from a terrible imposition, the ashes on your forehead mark the generous imposition of God's grace and mercy for you here  and now  and forever!