Not Taking Offense

Once this habit is well established you have the delightful situation of a human saying things with the express purpose of offending and yet having a grievance when offence is taken. – The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

The “habit,” of which Wormwood speaks, is that of having an “over-sensitive interpretation of the tone and the context and the suspected intention.” To state it differently, it is to always assume innocence in the words and tone “I” use, and at the same time always assume malice and intent to harm in the words and speech of any other. This habit, once it has taken root,–worse still when it has begun to sprout in the heart–supposedly hears the “real” meaning through the words being said, and those left unsaid. An example. Let’s call her Mary and him Steve. At the dinner table, Steve might be asked, please pass the salt. But his heart, which has taken on this habit “hears” Mary say instead, you knew that I have had a long day. More than that, I worked hard on this meal. The least thing that you could do, Steve, is to think of me and so place the salt where it is easy to reach. In fact, you could have even offered it to me before I asked. Is that too much to ask? And so, Steve hears in Mary’s tone a grumble, a complaint, a hint of dissatisfaction, annoyance, and irritation. Of course, in all of this, Mary simply wanted the salt and so she asked for it.

The reason these types of circumstances arise–and we have all experienced something like them to a certain degree–is because love is lacking. For, to presume Mary’s intent as Steve does–to have this habit established–is only the working out of a lack of love. It may even be the case that Steve, in some way, is animated by hatred toward Mary, though not in the fullest and most cruel sense of the word. For what else can explain why he would willingly presume negatively on her when so simple a request–please pass the salt–was made? (Certainly, in other situations, “Mary” may speak out of hatred towards Steve. And so, in such circumstances, she is trying to communicate her irritation, if not disdain, for “Steve,” all the while not saying it outright. But that is not the scenario we consider here.)

Holy living, when it comes to our speech and our listening, sprouts forth out of the love God has for us. And from this soil of divine love grows our love for others. This means that as those who speak, we are able–and ought–to say words of blessing and encouragement to others and be honest with our intentions. We also are able to say things that are true, and at times hard for others to receive, all the while there being no animus in our heart. Do you think Jesus hated the woman caught in adultery when he said Go and sin no more? (Jn 8) Was it not, rather, love at work, naming her actions as sin and forgiving her all the same? So, holy living regarding our speech, sets out to speak the truth having first loved the other.

Holy living, when it comes to our listening to others, does not seek to be offended by others, fabricating false intentions in order for the listener to lash out in return. Rather, holy living regarding our listening is patient. It gives room to the one speaking. It desires to hear from the other. And, when words are spoken which can be taken either negatively or positively, it presumes–its first and immediate inclination is–to side with the positive interpretation of the words. In the case of Mary and Steve, Steve would have simply assumed that all Mary wanted was the salt. Period. No ulterior motive. No encoded message to decipher. While this little scenario with Mary and Steve and the salt may seem rather innocuous, the habits of the heart are shaped in deep ways by such small, and seemingly insignificant, experiences, just as a river carves its way deep into the rock only by its simple, persistent trickle.

So, rather than saying things with the express purpose of offending and yet having a grievance when offence is taken, as Screwtape encourages Wormwood, instill in your hearts, through habit, a holy love of one another, that we might speak truthfully and listen with humility.

Addressing Disappointment

“In every department of life [disappointment] marks the transition from dreaming aspiration to laborious doing. [God] takes this risk because He has a curious fantasy of making all these disgusting little human vermin into what He calls His ‘free’ lovers and servants–‘sons’ is the word He uses...” – The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

Screwtape urges his nephew, Wormwood, to heighten the man’s [over whom Wormwood is charged] disappointment in the Christian faith. It does not matter really what the disappoint is over, but the focus is to be placed on the incongruence of the initial dreamy aspirations which have given way to the “laborious doing.” (We might call this “laborious doing” the persevering in the faith. The long obedience in the same direction.) The temptation is for Wormwood to insinuate that the incongruence–the disappointment–is a sign that this Christian life is not really worth it.

As humans, we all face disappointments of various kinds. We all have dreamy aspirations of one sort which, at some point, give way to the harder, yet still good, work of perseverance through the disappointment. When it comes to the Christian life, maybe one’s aspirations were that life would get easier; or that all–or at least most–of life’s problems would be sorted out. Maybe one has assumed that quite quickly after coming into the Faith, all affection for sin would immediately stop. So, when such things are not one’s immediate reality, disappointment creeps in. It can be exasperated all the more when one becomes aware that, to make headway in these areas of life, there is a “laborious doing” in which one needs to engage. A putting the hand to the plow. Or as St. Paul has said: “Do not present your members to sin as instruments for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness.” (Rom 6:13)

Why, we might ask, does God not simply snap his fingers together–or whatever the divine equivalent might be–and simply do away with all disordered affections? For certainly if that was how God ran things, there would be little if any risk of one walking away from the Faith. Screwtape instructs us: “[God] takes this risk because He has a curious fantasy of making all these disgusting little human vermin into what He calls His ‘free’ lovers and servants–‘sons’ is the word He uses...” For our good and to the glory of God, he desires relationships with those who have received the blessing of being made in his image. And, so that this may be an honest and loving relationship–not an abusive one–the Lord desires “free lovers.” Disappointment, when left unchecked, can wreak havoc in this relationship. And, to make clear that the Lord is no prude, one simply needs to read–and ought to pray–the Psalms. They are chock-full of one’s disappointment. That disappointment is, at times, directed at God. But, they also shine a light forward: disappointment gives way to faith, hope, and love, just as the darkness of night gives way to the dawn of the morning. Or, in the words of Screwtape, the Psalms provide us a way to move from the initial dreamy aspirations into and through the laborious doing of the Faith.

Jesus, the true human, also leads us in this way. “Look to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” (Hb 12:2-3) When disappointments surface, those unmet expectations and aspirations, look to the Psalms and take up their prayers. For they are given to the Church to lead her through the darkness. And, when disappointments surface, look to Jesus. For he, too, as man, faced disappointments of many kinds. And he persevered through them by the aid and grace of the Holy Spirit.

Pursuing Real Life

"Your business," says Screwtape to Wormwood, "is to fix his attention on the stream [of immediate sense experiences.] Teach him to call it 'real life' and don't let him ask what he means by 'real.'"
–The Screwtape Letters | C.S. Lewis

This is the great temptation that we see in the garden in Eden: that humanity might pursue the "sensible" things of this world–what can be experienced by the senses,–considering and coming to believe that they are the truly real realities. This, in turn, shifts our focus away from God, and the greater heavenly realities. With our eyes fixed on the things of this world, we loose our taste for heavenly things. We become accustomed to life here on earth, as if it were the only thing that is really real. Such a way of life breeds anxiety, hopelessness, and can give way to licentiousness: eat, drink, be merry, for tomorrow we die. When the things of this world hold sway in our hearts, we set aside truth. We also distance ourselves from the life God has secured for us in Jesus Christ. We begin to forget his ways. More than that, we may begin to view his ways as a stumbling block, a disruption, to true and real life. As we have so many "sensible" things and experiences at our disposal, Screwtape's words are all the more pressing for us. We have so much that we can set before our eyes, as it were, just as Israel had the golden calf set before her eyes and heard proclaimed: “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!” (Exodus 32:4)

In light of these temptations which are depicted for us by Screwtape, how are we to learn holy living? We are to take up the Holy Spirit's leading through the words of St. Paul: "If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth." (Col 3:1–2) This we are to do by being diligent in prayer, attending to weekly Eucharistic worship, caring for the needs of others. As we listen to the Lord through the Holy Scriptures, we are to take them by faith, entrusting that the Lord reveals to us to true things of heaven, the greater heavenly reality.

What might this look like? It could look like taking up Jesus' Comfortable Words in Mt 11: "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." His words mean that there is rest he provides to us, rest that is from above, that may be given and experienced, even in the midst of trial and suffering. There is the encouragement–and instruction–to bring all things that are burdensome to you and place them before the Lord, knowing that he loves you enough to bear your burdens for you. There is also the recognition that you are not able to "go it alone." In fact, you were not made to be an independent being; you were made for God, to find your joy, love, rest, and life by being (and deepening) your relationship in him.

Seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Let us not fall prey to the temptations of the devil to set our minds on the sensible things of the earth.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+

The One The World Needs

Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel…and come and save us.
Psalm 80:1, 2

An Advent psalm to be sure, Psalm 80: Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel…and come and save us. Advent begins this coming Sunday and with it the Church begins her new year which begins in the dark of this world. She begins where she is always to be found: in prayerful expectation for the Lord to come. His desired coming is not only because she–we as Christians–long for our God that we might be with him in a deeper and more real way, just as an infant is with its parents in a deeper and lives more fully in this world once it is born. We not only long for this, we also long for the ending of all wars; for the ending of all homelessness; for the ending of Death in all its manifestations–the death of Death;–for the ending of Satan and all his hordes. But if God be not the one who will do this–and far more than we can ask or imagine–then who?

If history will teach us one thing–and if we will have ears to listen to that lesson–it is that humanity, and all creation, cannot and will not accomplish this. One response to this is certainly to deny the reality of any real difficulties, to view them as merely bumps along the road of progress. Yet, how is such a view loving? How is such a view just? Another response might be that we should place all our hopes on humanity and the human spirit. But that is precisely the problem: the human spirit. The way forward, for the Church and for the World, is that God must come to us, to our world (once again) to save us. But why, some might ask, should all turn to Christ and the Christian God? Why not other religions? It is only the Church–Christians–who proclaim to goodness of God’s Gospel which he proclaims in his Holy Scriptures: he has come before; he has taken on our flesh in the Second Person of the Trinity, Jesus; he has washed us that we might be clean. And all who will turn to him he will make clean. It is only the Church who proclaims what God has promised: he will come again and will make all things new. These are not the ideas of humans of the first century world; they are the truths of the eternal God. Extravagant truths to be sure. Grace, for certain.

So as we enter into this Advent season, may we renew our hope, not in our own efforts, Resolutions, or the human spirit. May we renew our hope in God, the Great Shepherd of his sheep, that he will come; that he will save.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+

Like the Fading Grass

Fret not yourself because of evildoers; be not envious of wrongdoers. For they will soon fade like the grass and wither like the green herb.
Trust in the Lord, and do good.
Psalm 37:1-3a

It is hard at times to believe words like these, for the permanence of the evildoers and wrongdoers seems all but assured in our world. It is they who have more than they need, who amass larger and larger barns for their goods–to draw from one story Jesus told. It is they who wield power on a global scale, shaping the lives of far too many people whom they will never know. It is they who afflict the weary and the poor, oppressing and trafficking the youngest of us. It can be rather frightening to realize the control they have, which seems as if it will endure forever, world without end.

Noticing the prominence that such people have in our world, it is also difficult at times not to become jealous of them, not to envy their situation in life. For they have it "made," by which we typically mean they appear to have all that I could ever want: be that riches, fame, recognition, health, power, (or you fill in the blank). The allure of jealousy is palpable and runs deep, for it touches the nerve of desire, seeking to draw our attention to those things which we do not have and coercing us to conclude that we are the poorer for it.

And yet, for all the prestige of this world that is set before their feet, the Lord says that the seeming permanence of the evildoers is like grass which fades with the coming sun, like green herbs that wither in the heat of the day. Living in the Pacific Northwest, we see this withering and fading every summer when the dry season comes upon us. Our once green and lush yards turn to hardened ground and yellowed stubble. When we see such things, we are to see the spiritual lesson contained therein, the spiritual lesson that the psalmist teaches us in Psalm 37. For all the glory that the grass once held, it is now dried and shriveled; for all the glory that evildoers now hold, they will whither, they will fade. To cast our lot with the evildoers is to cast our lot with death.

We find ourselves in a time of waiting, waiting for the Lord to come again to judge the living and the dead. In our waiting, we should not be lounging on the couch, TV dinner in hand–if they are still a thing–biding our time. Rather we are to be like the wise virgins who awaited the coming of the groom with expectation and preparation and love. (Mt 25) We are to be found trusting the Lord and his Word, for he always and only speaks the truth in love. We are to be found "doing good" in this season, for the blessing of others, for the sake of our souls, for the honor and glory of God. May these words of the psalmist be always before us: trust in the Lord and do good. A simple life, a pleasing life. The life of Jesus.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+

Rest

It is good to be back from vacation and vacation was a good time of rest. I was reminded of how necessary rest is. Our physical bodies remind us of this every 24 hours. (I suppose it is less than 24hrs.) And while some of us may be irritated–or even rail against this reality–it is part of our existence. That our physical bodies require rest should also remind us that our spiritual selves also need rest. Rest from the noise of the world; rest from distractions; rest for God.

Indeed it is rest that the Lord promises to his own: It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep (Ps 127:2). And there is the eschatological rest–the rest at the end of all things; rest with God–promised in Hebrews: For if Joshua had given them [Israel] rest, God would not have spoken of another day later on. So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God's rest has also rested from his works as God did from his (Hb 4:8-10).

As we navigate and journey through this life, we are to see rest for what it is: a preparation, a foretaste, an appetizer. It is good for us to rest well. At times our busy schedules do not allow copious hours for rest. Well enough. Let us at least carve out sixty seconds to pray the Lord's Prayer, pray a psalm, meditate on a well-known portion of Scripture. For in so doing we halt the traffic of our lives for a moment to allow the motorcade of God to pass through. And maybe, hopefully, as he does pass by in those moments, we might catch a glimpse of him. What a sight.

Grace & Peace

The Good Zeal of [Christians]

As the feast of St. Benedict was observed this week–11 July–it seemed fitting to hear a little from his Rule which was composed ~530AD. Though it was written as instruction for how a monastery and the brothers are to live together, much of what he says applies to us all. Below is the chapter entitled The Good Zeal of Monks. We might amend that, as we are not monks, to The Good Zeal of Christians. (A few slight edits were made.)

Just as there is a wicked zeal of bitterness which separates from God and leads to hell, so there is a good zeal which separates from evil and leads to God and everlasting life. This, then, is the good zeal which [Christians] must foster with fervent love: They should each try to be the first to show respect to the other (Rom 12:10), supporting with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behavior, and earnestly competing in obedience to one another. No one is to pursue what he judges better for himself, but instead, what he judges better for someone else. To their fellow [Christians] they show the pure love of brothers [and sisters]; to God, loving fear. Let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ, and may he bring us all together to everlasting life.

Numbering Time

Teach us to number our days, that we might get a heart of wisdom. – Psalm 90:12

This Psalm–a prayer of Moses, the man of God–speaks of time, something that many of us might acknowledge its presence when we feel it strained. We may also find ourselves pushed and pulled by time–read "our schedules,"–not being so much mindfully engaged, but simply following the course carved out for us. With respect to time and God, we hear in this psalm: "from everlasting to everlasting, you are God; a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past." That is not our experience as humans. Seventy years, maybe a decade or two more, is the max for us.

If we are to number our days, it at least means that we are mindful of them and the inevitable day when we will return to the dust. Why then do we pray that the Lord would teach us to number our days? It is so we might know what life is for and so pursue it; "to get a heart of wisdom." As we are made for the Lord–in him we live, and move, and have our being,– to number our days is to reckon with our allotted time: how we might use it; how we might "spend" it. For what we spend it on is clearly of value to us. By spending time on something, we proclaim it is of value, for we spend the one thing which we can never acquire more of it.

So if i were to number my days, reckon with how much time I have, where should I allocate it? What responsibilities are rightfully mine that I should spend my time there? What habits or practices need to diminish–I must diminish those things; they do not magically disappear–to make room for more life-giving uses of time?

Reckoning with the relatively short amount of time I have, should also lead us more deeply into the Christian virtues of humility and faith. The time that the Lord has given us is enough.

O Lord, teach us to number our days, that we might get a heart of wisdom.

A Common Cup for a Communing People

Throughout the life of the Church catholic, the people of God have celebrated the Eucharistic feast by receiving wine from a common cup. That is, all receiving wine would drink from the same cup. The common cup is not mandated in Scripture, but it is part of the tradition of the Church. It captures the unity that we are living out as all those who come to the Father through Jesus his Son. St. Augustine reminds us in a sermon he preached on Pentecost Remember, friends, how wine is made. Individual grapes hang together in a bunch, but the juice from them all is mingled to become a single brew. This is the image chosen by Christ our Lord to show how, at his own table, the mystery of our unity and peace is solemnly consecrated. How we do things communicates what we believe (and think) is actually taking place. How we do things shapes and forms us in good and healthy ways; it can also form us in unhealthy ways.

On Pentecost Sunday (28 May) we will begin offering the common cup. We will continue to offer a cup for intinction (dipping the bread into the wine) if that is preferable for some. You may be thinking "doesn't this shift us away from a common cup, because right now we use only one cup for intinction." Fair question. Let me respond this way. As the Eucharist is one of the two sacraments–the other being baptism–the outward sign of the sacrament is significant to the invisible, spiritual grace received. There is something to be said about receiving a draft of wine and what it communicates about the inward, spiritual grace you also experience. We do not receive more of Jesus, if we consume more wine. But we experience the sacrament in a different way, one that I think can be helpful to us as a community.

One is not more spiritual than the other. If you are concerned about health issues–(e.g. won't drinking from a common cup spread diseases more easily?)–there has been plenty of research done on the transmissibility, or lack thereof, of diseases via the common cup. So far the research indicates there is little, if anything, to be concerned about. Thankfully the parish council has weighed in on this issue and are also supportive of (re)introducing the common cup. I am grateful for their leadership, thoughts, and encouragement. As always, let us keep the main thing the main thing. As we come together as the people of God, to the Table of our Lord, we do not come as individuals; we come as a redeemed people whom Christ has joined together in his body (the Church) and by his body (on the Cross). Thanks be to God.

A Thanks–giving People

Give thanks to the God of heavens,
for his steadfast love endures forever. – Psalm 136:26

Well Emmanuel, it is good to be back home and I look forward to worshipping with you all in a few short days. Thank you for your prayers while I was away in Rwanda. Needless to say, there were so many good experiences, connections, and thoughts that took place while spending time with over 1300 Anglicans coming from over fifty countries. Again, thank you.

Yesterday morning, I was praying through Psalm 136. One feature of this psalm is the refrain for his steadfast love endures forever. We are called to give thanks to the Lord, and then we are given reason after reason to give thanks, often noting his mighty acts of salvation. [Just as an aside, I wonder what your version of this psalm would look like? Perhaps give it a try, listing all the mighty acts of God's salvation and care in your life, each one followed by the refrain for his steadfast love endures forever.]

Often it is relatively easy to give thanks to the Lord when life is going well, when our relationships are in order and harmony, when we have enough (and most likely a surplus), and on and on that list goes. But this psalm begins and ends, not with the things the Lord has done for us, and therefore we give thanks. Rather it begins and ends–like bookends–with the character of God: his steadfast love endures forever. This is the reason to always give thanks to the Lord. And as we are always to be maturing, growing, being transformed more into the likeness of Jesus, giving thanks to the Lord, especially in times of difficulty or when we don't feel like it, is all the more formative and transformative. We might even say it's redemptive.

To live a life of always giving thanks to the Lord does not dismiss the trials of our lives. But it does set them in perspective. For, as the steadfast love of the Lord endures forever, evil, sorrow, sadness, and their ilk will pass away. Let us join our voices and lives with the saints and give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+

Why Will You Die?

As I live, declares the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live;
turn back, turn back from your evil ways, for why will you die, O house of Israel?
– Ezekiel 33:11

At our annual parish gathering last Sunday evening–thank you to all who could attend and took part in our chili cook-off–I mentioned that a focus for this year is extending the Gospel to those who have yet to know the love of God, receive his forgiveness of their sins, to be reconciled to him through grace by faith, and to live in the power and care of the Spirit. Though that work may sound daunting, if you are reading this there is a good chance that such work has been wrought in your life, and the Lord graciously continues that work in us all. This he does for the Lord has no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live. We also heard of the Lord's heart last week from John 3:16: for God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

As this is the heart and mission of God, it is to be the heart and mission of his people, the Body of Christ. As we are among the people of God, it is to be our heart and our mission as well. Can we change the human heart? No, that is the work of the Spirit. But we can–and should–be living witnesses of the work the Lord has done and continues to do in our own lives. Perishing is not the only way things can end. There is another way, a way the Lord desires, and a way that he has gone to such great lengths to open to all who might believe.

To this end, I encouraged those at the annual gathering–and encourage you now–to begin by noting three people you know who do not know our Lord. Take those three people and pray for them daily. Pray for their salvation, for their troubles and trials, for their joys. Additionally, share those three people with one other person in the church (and vice versa) that together you might pray for your six people.

O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive. O Lord, pay attention and act. Delay not, for your own sake, O my God.

Grace & Peace

Matthew+

My Word

If you abide in my word...you will know the truth
and the truth will set you free.
John 8:32

The words truth and freedom are rightly valued in our culture, as they should be for any human being. But there is a catch, well something much larger than just "a catch." When one hears the word truth, it is often accompanied by a pronoun: my. Or said differently, what is true for me, indicating that somehow truth is perceived to be subjective, or moderately subjective at best. The assumption is this: that the locus of truth, its source, is found in the individual. And this is perceived to be a good thing, for then I as an individual, am free. For how could I not be when I define truth?

The problem with this line of thinking–there are Legion–is it has exchanged the Truth for a lie. And anchoring yourself to a lie as the sole orientation of your life lands you in chains, enslaved to what is false. This, in turn, distorts your sense of self and purpose in the world.

Yet, as it is always the case with God, there is good news. There is a path to freedom that passes through the valley of truth and at its source: the Word who is Jesus. If you abide in my word...you will know the truth and the truth will set you free. Though we do not have the same experience of Jesus as the disciples did, we still have his word. It is the blessing and gift of the Holy Scriptures that are the word of God. And it is abiding in that word that leads us to Jesus.

He is the way, the truth, the life. Abide in him by abiding in the word, that you might know truth, that it might shape your identity, that it might open your eyes to the glorious purpose of your life. Dwell not in the shadow of lies that lead to slavery; walk in the light of Christ.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+

A Fortress for the Downcast

Let the Lord be a fortress for the downcast, a fortress in times of distress.
Psalm 9 (trans. Robert Alter)

A fortress is only as good as its foundation. For all the money and effort and blood poured into building a fortress–resplendent with gilded trim work and imported marble and the most exquisite ironwork–if the foundation is not sound, resolute, established, then the fortress is worthless. It has cost an exorbitant amount of money certainly. But it is worthless. More than that, it is a guise, a deception, a lie. For the assumption is that if so much time and effort were spent on the appearance, certainly time was spent on securing the foundation if, for nothing else, to preserve the investment.

But the purpose of a fortress is protection: to safeguard those fleeing for safety from unsafe circumstances; to provide a place for the displaced; to provide life for those from whom evil and wickedness has sought to destroy life. The fortresses of this world–ancient castles visited by tourists, our homes and apartments we inhabit every day, makeshift "forts" of blankets and chairs–are intended to declare the glory of God: he is a fortress for the downcast, a fortress in times of distress. As there is none other more sure, more stable, more loving, and more life-giving, he is the foundation of that fortress which is Himself.

When those words–downcast, distressed–describe your situation in life, let the Lord be your fortress. Let him be your fortress through prayer; meditation on the Psalms; gathering with the Church in worship even if your worship is your tears; sharing your heart with others who may help carry your burden if only in that you know you are not alone and that you are known. When those words–downcast, distressed–do not describe your immediate situation in life, let the Lord be your fortress. For then (and only there) do you find the freedom to thrive which is the language of life. And it is the Lord's desire that you have life and have it abundantly.

Grace & Peace

A Simple Faith

a little girl from the land of Israel
2 Kings 5:2

In our world of "bigger is better," the value of small things is easy to miss and easier to disregard. More than just disregarding the things of seemingly lesser value, we are also drawn toward the larger, louder moments and experiences as those which are (only) truly authentic and real. But highs only last for so long.

The story of Naaman the Syrian commander is found in 2 Kings 5. His story is known as he was plagued with leprosy. In this story we hear of a "little girl from the land of Israel" who was stolen from her land, her people, being yet another casualty of war. And though she does not exhibit a loud and boisterous part in the narrative, her faith is loudest of all by its simplicity and resiliency. Though dislocated and now in the forced servitude of another military leader, her faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob burns as a light in the darkness.

After being told of the prophet in Israel who would cure leprosy, Naaman departs, loaded down with the finery of Syria and prepared for what surely must be a ritual bursting with pomp and circumstance. (Is there any other way to cure the afflictions of one so mighty as Naaman?) But it was the very expectation of the spectacular, and a spectacular experience, that stood in the way of his healing. Or, we could say it this way: he lacked humility. But we see the beauty and power of humility in this "little girl from Israel."

Now to us. The simplicity of faith, the posture of humility, the "long and slow obedience in the same direction," can sound wonderful "on paper" but it takes time to put it into practice, it takes time to work down into our bones. So we need to start small and stay small. What does it look like to be faithful to Jesus when washing the dishes? What does it look like to be faithful to the Lord when in Zoom meetings for work? What does it look like to live by the Spirit when pouring your morning coffee or tea? Being faithful to the Lord in these, and all other aspects of our lives, is not only about what we do, but by knowing whose we are: "I have called you by name; you are mine." (Is 43:1)

Grace & Peace

Thinking of Whatever

whatever is true…honorable…just…pure…lovely…commendable,
if there is any excellence…anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Philippians 4:8

Where does your mind go? In what fields does it wander? (Take a moment and ponder that. What occupies your thinking?) For many of us, a large portion of our thinking life is directed toward responsibilities: work, education, teaching children. And so our minds and thinking revolve around those (very good) responsibilities. But what about for the rest of our time, and for those who do not have such daily, mental responsibilities? Do you grab snatches of time to criticize another? Do you spend time lavishly on disassociating from life? Do you allow yourself to be pushed and pulled by the day’s events, giving agency of your mind over to the pressures or events of the day? These experiences make sense–there are understandable reasons why we might think these ways–and yet we should ask “how are such ways of thinking shaping us into the image of Jesus; to be like him in all things?”

As we are considering where our minds wander–or where we let them loose to roam–what about fields of joy? Do you lead your mind to that field, which may be found alongside the fields of beauty and goodness? This may often be harder to do. We have to work toward that field, as if it were an alpine field or meadow. There is goodness to be found there, but there is work involved in getting there. It is far easier to walk, maybe even just roll, down the mountainside to the marshy fields below. Little effort is required here.

I find St. Paul’s words, which he wrote to Christians in the city Philippi, helpful. Writing while in prison, he instructs them in their thinking. “Whatever is true…honorable…just…pure…lovely…commendable, if there is any excellence…anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” What he does not say is just as important as what he does say. He does not say if there is anything true, honorable, just, etc. let those things come to mind. That would be a passive approach. It would be akin to closing our eyes and then, on opening them, we somehow find ourselves in the field of joy. Not sure how we got here, but here we are. Rather, he takes an active approach in his instruction: “think about these things.” It is work; it requires effort; and for some of us, this is far harder than others for our minds are assailed by so many things. And Jesus knows this. But we can start where we are. We can put one foot in front of the other and as we do so, at some point we will realize that we have journeyed a distance. We will also find that we do not make this journey alone. We are aided and led by the Comforter of Christ, the Spirit of God.

Putting hand to the plow. As you read this, what if you were to take the next seven days–you need not stop there–and daily consider where you might see God’s presence in your day, however slight or slim it might appear? (It may be that we do not see God in our day-to-day lives because we are not looking for him.) Also, take a few moments, maybe at the end of the day, and review the past 24hrs with gratitude, naming those things, however slight or however magnanimous, for which you are grateful.

Taking our minds by the hand, aided and guided by the Holy Spirit, we may begin (or continue) to train them in the way of Jesus.

Grace & Peace

When Death is Gain

For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. – Philippians 1:21

Preservation, keeping what is currently before our eyes, is the mindset of our culture and the world. For we (supposedly) know what we can see. And if we cannot see it, then it is most likely not real. More than not being real, it is most likely a loss. The world would emend Paul's words to the Christians in Philippi to say: "to live is all there is; to die is to lose it all."

But the words of Paul are really a reflection on the Christ event: Jesus' death, burial, resurrection, and ascension. That Jesus has passed through death, thus defeating it–O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?–means, at least, that there is life beyond death. And that life, as Jesus speaks of it as well as the Early Church, is not some shadowland, a thin veneer of what life used to be which we live now in this world. Rather, that life, the life beyond the grave, is life lived in full color; life lived in real reality; life lived as it is intended to be: sweet communion.

But there is loss in that life. That loss is the loss of the presence of sin. That loss is the loss of shame. That loss is the loss of all that distorts and disrupts love for God and neighbor. That loss is the loss of hindered communion with God, namely through the person and presence of Jesus. If we were to "lose" such things, how can we not say they are gain?

As these things are so–they are true, they are real reality–they are meant to shape our lives in the present. This is an instance of the kingdom of God breaking into our world, our "reality" now. The life and reality of the world to come makes inroads into our daily existence. One outcome of this–there are many–is we may live, not enslaved to this present life, assuming that if we lose it we lose everything. Rather we are freed from that tyranny; freed to love and serve as faithful witnesses of Christ; freed to live lives of sacrificial love, counting others better than ourselves.

For to live is Christ; to die, gain.

Grace & Peace

The Illuminating Word

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." Psalm 119:105

What is it that illuminates the path of your life? Perhaps we may even need first to acknowledge that we need a lamp. For acknowledging that we need a lamp states that we, by ourselves cannot see rightly or clearly. We are in the dark, at least some of the time. That itself is a needed and honest confession, one that may be easier for some, harder for others.

In considering the question, what illuminates the path of your life, we are asking a question of source. And the source of that light is an important consideration, for only if the source (the light itself) is true, good, and beautiful, can it be trusted. Moreover, only when the light is true, good, and beautiful does it illuminate our lives and the world and God rightly. This question is also of importance, for the nature of the light shapes what we see and therefore shapes us. For example, if our light is a cursory glance at a news feed, then our perception of the world is that it is all aflame, metaphorically and literally. If that news feed is our lamp–our perception of the world–then we will respond to it and its perspective of the world. We will panic or be anxious; we will become lethargic; we may take up arms in revolt (of what?).

As God has created all things and as he is the lover of our souls, his Word may be trusted, for only it is beautiful and only it reveals Beauty itself. A second question then arises: do you avail yourself of this most gracious light? There are certainly hours (days, maybe even weeks) when we may not feel like bathing in this light. That may be due to "mere" physical factors. There is also a spiritual component at work that we should not so easily dismiss. Regardless, the goodness of this lamp, the wholesomeness of its light, is not contingent on our emotions but on the one who authored it (to mix metaphors). That author is the same one who gave up his life that you, and all those who believe, might have life.

Here then is the encouragement. For those who daily draw to this gracious light, continue in that healthy habit. Encourage, with all understanding and grace, your brothers and sisters in the faith. For those who struggle to draw near daily, begin slowly but continue consistently. One excellent place to begin is the prayers of the Psalms. Even when you encounter passages that are confusing–and there are plenty of them–continue to bask in the light of God's Word, knowing that, as a plant slowly grows by basking in the rays of the sun, so too do you continue in growth by the power of his Word and Spirit.

There is such beauty to behold in this world, in each other, and in our God. His Scriptures help us see such things as they really are. More than that, his Holy Scriptures cast a light on our path, showing us the very way to Life and God.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+

A Spiritual Lesson from an Unlikely Tutor

Today I saw a most beautiful sight. I hope that you have seen it in your lifetime. But if not, it is my hope that one day you will see it. The sight I saw was grass. And it was beautiful because it was a lesson in spiritual formation.

This grass was not the nicely manicured lawns we might see in certain areas of our city. It was the long spindly and wild grass that has gone to seed, as they say. This little bit of green earth, unaware of my presence or existence, taught me much. The reason it had grown so high was because it continued to soak in the sun from above, to which it yearned to be ever nearer. It also soaked up the rain and nutrients from the soil that it might be healthy and thrive. That all these spindles of grass were where they were was not because they determined themselves to be there. Whether planted by a city employee or some other random event was not important. How they made their way to this little spot of earth did not matter. They simply grew where they were planted. They were faithful to that calling. And being faithful to that calling they were beautiful.

Their beauty was also seen in how they were moved along by the wind. The grass did not struggle against the wind nor stand in firm opposition to its gentle breeze. Rather, as it blew southward, the grass bent to the south. As it shifted directions and moved westward, the grass bent towards the sea. And yet when the wind was still, the grass stood tall, yearning again to be ever closer to the sun.

Such a simple picture. Such a beautiful picture. Such a simple lesson in spiritual life. The world in which we live in, created by our God, is teaming with lessons because it is charged with the grandeur of God. (Thank you Gerald Manley Hopkins.)

Learn from the grass. Be faithful to were you are planted. Yearn and strive for God, not out of desperation or anxiety or fear. Yearn for him, for there is life and joy and peace and love. Let his Spirit move you and listen to his guiding word. In so doing, you are beautiful, for you participate in the life of the Son, Jesus.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+

A Pleasing Apple

He found him in a desert land...he encircled him, he cared for him. – Deuteronomy 32:10

The "he" in this Song of Moses is the Lord and the "him" is Israel, the people of God. Note the grammar: who is the subject, who is the object, and what is the action described. Note the location described: a desert land.

It was not in the halls of a palace that the Lord found Israel, but in the howling waste of the wilderness. He found him there, that is (I think) the had searched for and found him. It was an intentional effort, not a random stumbling upon a lost wanderer. This is the heart of God: to find us. Recall God's word to Adam and Eve: Where are you? That is the language of seeking. And we should desire that he find us and that he delights to look in the desert places and not the halls of kings. For we all, regardless of our economic status, are destitute. If the Lord only searched in the halls of the wealthy, that is he only searched for those who impressed him, then we are all left clamoring for his affection, striving as we might and must to earn and gain his attention. (Perhaps we take up Elijah's taunt to the prophets of Baal to get God's attention.)

But the Lord searches among the desert land. What a grace that is, for then there is hope for you, me, all. It is not left to our effort, but his grace.

Moses sings on: He kept him as the apple of his eye. The Lord loves. The Lord loves you. Loves me. Why? How? How is it so that we have–not earned nor gained by our work!–his notice and affection? I suppose in a world not permeated by sin we would more readily understand, for there we would more readily understand grace. As of yet, in this world where we still suffer the infection of Satan, Sin, and Death, grace appears to be too much. And yet...grace is–it should be, we need it to be...–grace is enough.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+

The Limits of Love

Emmanuel Anglican –

A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children. – Jeremiah 31:15

Those words were written by the prophet Jeremiah to describe terrors unleashed on Israel. Those words were used by the Gospel-writer Matthew when he sought to describe the senseless slaughter of young Jewish boys. Those words are used this week to describe another–when will there be no "another!"–slaughter of young children, our children. They are our children for we reside in the same country. They are our children for they, like us, are human. And like Rachel, we also should weep for, we are a people who weep with those who weep.

Already the machine has been turned on once again. The machine of which I speak is the back-and-forth of our media and politicians. We all know this drill: one side shouts for gun reform and the other retorts with 2nd amendment rights. Yet we must reckon with two very clear realities: there is much evil within the human heart; there is much evil in our country. For I know of no other way to describe scenes like these, scenes where in the place of learning and that of young children, death is dealt at 30 rounds per minute.

I am not sure where to go from here. To offer platitudes is not helpful–it is in all likelihood more harmful–and it accomplishes nothing. To do nothing, to fail "to act in the midst of injustice", as Jemar Tisby says, "is itself an injustice." And the Church has long failed to act in a host of areas where she should have been the hands and feet of Jesus to the weary, the poor, the victim. Perhaps Christians need to reckon with the reality that love limits. It limits preference for ourselves at the expense of others. Love does not insist on its own way. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. It even endures what you might give up for the sake of another.

Grace & Peace,

– Matthew+