When I was young, the dramatic aspects of Gospel stories captured my imagination.  I envisioned a gloriously shining angel with an incredible wingspan appearing out of nowhere to a very young Mary; star-gazing magi in exotic clothing dismounting dusty camels after entering the gates of Jerusalem; an enormous boulder rolling sideways to reveal a recently crucified Jesus standing upright.  These miraculous events spoke of supernatural powers, of God doing extraordinary things.         I am older now and find I am drawn to the less dramatic, more homespun stories in the Gospels.  For example, Jesus’ parables resonate with me now because they are rooted in experiences I have encountered in my own life or in the lives of people I know.  They are stories of a parent’s love for a wayward child and for a self-righteous child, or a person’s care for a needy neighbor, of a manager who wants to pay all workers a living wage.  The stories of Jesus’ less miraculous actions also feel closer to life as I live it.  His willingness to touch a leper offers me a more plausible guide in life than his ability to walk on water.         Our tradition wisely suggests the divine is present in both the extraordinary and the very ordinary events of our lives.  For me, at this point in time, sensing and seeking to follow grace in the small, tender details of being a loving parent, a caring neighbor, a person willing to pay others a living wage seems more do-able.  Perhaps that is how I am called to incarnate the Spirit poured out on all of us.

What's Your Next Step? Think About Heaven.

What bothers me about the saying “Expectations are pre-meditated resentments” is my understanding that expectations are inevitable.  For example, I expected my husband to behave toward me much as my father had toward my mother, to behave toward our children much as my father had toward me.  My sense of “how a husband/father acts” was based on what I had seen growing up.  As it turned out, my husband did not always act according to the model my father set.  Sometimes the differences did not bother me at all; but occasionally, when my expectations were not met, I was taken aback.  If having expectations is integral to being human and it is likely my expectations will not always be met, am I doomed to disappointment, resentment?          No.  Once again the Bible and current day life experiences offer us a metaphor to help us deal with the messiness of human life.  Much of Scripture draws on the notion that we need to come to see people in a new Light.  Expectations are rather like cataracts that darken our vision, blind us to the person standing in front of us by suggesting he or she should be like someone we have encountered in the past.  But cataracts can be removed—and once removed, I am able to see more clearly.  The key is to see the expectation for what it is rather than to look through the expectation and allow it to distort my vision.       According to the song, it takes amazing grace to move from blindness to seeing others for who they are rather than who I expected them to be.  I ask for that amazing grace, for apparently the alternative is a life darkened by disappointment and possibly poisoned by resentment.

Weather permitting, our church/school parking lots will be resurfaced this weekend. The lot will be unavailable from 5am Friday until noon on Saturday. Should weather cause us to reschedule, we'll communicate any changes. Thanks for your patience.

What's your next step? Pay attention to your breathing.

   Memories can be faulty - especially mine. Yet I vividly recall reading a story about two friends—one a Caucasian, the other a Native American. The Native American child ends up giving his friend a feather that means a great deal to him. He tells his friend that his tribe believes to truly have something, you must be willing to give it away.           I didn’t hear that message again for many years, until I started attending a Twelve Step meeting where the saying goes, “To have it, you have to give it away.” The “it” is recovery, the giving away entails sharing your experience, strength and hope with other people who have been affected by the family disease of addiction. To maintain my own recovery, I have to be willing to share my life, my story, with others.            Our religious tradition has a similar notion, simplified down to a single word—kenosis. We speak of Jesus emptying himself so that he could live a fully human life. We speak of following his example in our own lives. As best as I can make sense of kenosis in my life, it is about emptying myself of ego-driven programs to prove myself right, to earn love or respect, to control my life or the lives of others. Kenosis has something to do with surrendering my will and my life, with letting go of how I think my life or other people’s lives should be. Instead, by emptying out my ego, I can be filled with God’s Holy Spirit and thus able to accept - even love - myself, others, creation as is.             All I can say is, it would be easier to give away a feather (or its equivalent in our tribe). It would even be easier to sponsor someone in Al-Anon! Kenosis seems to me to be a life-long process - and one that can only happen with amazing grace. 

What’s Your Next Step? Reflect on Church Leadership and Ministry.

By way of defending her fondness for a pop singer, a woman said, “She is all about self love!” A man countered, “Isn’t that narcissistic?” I felt prompted  to consider: what is self love? To reflect on that question from a Christian perspective, I find it helpful to distinguish between the false self and True Self. As I understand it, a false self grows out of the values, attitudes, defense mechanisms, etc., that a person forms within a family, culture and religious tradition. So my false self began developing when I was a child being raised Catholic in a suburb outside Chicago. True Self is a deeper, more mysterious reality. According to our tradition, True Self is in the image and likeness of God dwelling within us.         I am going to presume true self care would be care of the True Self. For me, the movement toward that kind of care began when I looked internally rather than externally for validation and guidance. The journey inward entails coming to know self - gifts and limitations. To use Biblical language, I had been blinded by my false self, but my eyes could be opened, I could awaken to divine indwelling - a Self more profound than my small, false self.       Awakening is generally followed by a prompting to get out of bed! That is the journey outward. Again in Christian terms, the source and foundation of True Self is God’s Spirit or Love which moves beyond itself. Aware of both my goodness and my weaknesses, I heard a wake up call, a prompting to respond to the signs and situations of my times.       For me, Self care involves breathing in meditation and prayer to discern what is “right and just,” and breathing out loving kindness. I do that breathing, inward and outward, together with all of you.  Thank you for journeying with me.  

What's Your Next Step? Consider the human and divine faces of the Church.