Dancing Lessons

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19
Psalm 24
Ephesians 1:3-14
Mark 6:14-29

As I write, Daniels and Danielles, along with their sisters, brothers, fathers, mothers, grandparents and great-grands in the faith are on their way to Babylon – oh, I mean Chicago. A great family reunion will take place, new friends will be made, and those unable to be physically present will be there through the power of the Spirit and the airwaves of technology.

We pray that into the center of Chicago this week there will be an ascent of sorts to a holy mountain, ruled over by a King who is “strong and mighty”, the Lord who has proven to be “mighty in battle,” having defeated the greatest of all enemies by being raised from the death of a horrible cross. This holy mountain, which we are all invited to ascend, is not without requirement. In fact, the requirement seems quite unobtainable. Our hands must be clean and our hearts pure. Truthfulness is required, and I don’t know about you, but there seems to be more than one version of truth floating around out there as well as myriad of ways to get our hands dirty as we grab for life in the midst of Babylon.

Yet, we do not go alone. As St. Bernard reminds us, “such a High Priest became us because he knows the difficulty of that ascent to the holy mountain; he knows the weakness of us that have to ascend.” Read more

Creatures Who Eat

Third Sunday of Easter

Luke 24:35-48

“When the risen Christ eats with the disciples it is not just a way of proving that he is ‘really’ there, it is a way of saying that what Jesus did in creating a new community during his earthly life, he is doing now in his risen life.”
(Rowan Williams, Being Christian, pg. 45.)

Reading this passage from the former Archbishop’s pen made me want to say “Amen, and.” And, what Jesus has done and is doing and will do began when the world was created. God created us as creatures who eat. Read more

Turning the Soil

Second Sunday of Lent

Mark 8:31-38

‘Tis a gift to be simple,
‘tis is a gift to be free,
‘tis a gift to come down
where we ought to be.
And when we find ourselves
In the place just right,
‘twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gain’d
to bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed.
To turn, turn will be our delight
Till by turning, turning, we come ‘round right.

–Shaker Hymn

Knees bent, ashes smudged on foreheads, letting go and taking up – the work of Lent is no less messy yet necessary than the work of a farmer in early spring, muck boots stuck in the mire of a melted grey snow, calloused hands reaching low to pull aside the mulch that blanketed the garden beds, spades and shovels and yes, even hands, turning the soil, loosening it after a winter freeze, not unlike the turning of Lent, the turning, turning, re-turning to the God we had covered with pretense and pride; the God we had covered with self-sufficiency only to discover that God would not be covered, but rather, it is we who are covered and it is we who must be uncovered and laid bare. It is we who must be tilled again so that the seed of faith can take root and lift it’s head through the soil toward the Light. It is we who must repent, who must turn.

Perhaps humility is the virtue of Lent. Read more