Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me save that thou art
Thou my best thought by day or by night
Waking or sleeping thy presence my light (Ancient Irish Hymn)
…Listening In…
Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving and make good your vows to the Most High. (Psalm 50:14; context)
…Filling Up…
There are fourteen verses written on my old guitar case, which means we have five to go. Today’s verse is one of the verses that we use in the Episcopal Church for something called the “Offertory Sentence” (which is what we read right before bringing up the bread and the wine to be blessed). One day during college, I finally heard this verse in the midst of its natural habitat – the rest of Psalm 50 – and hearing it there completely changed my understanding of it.
Psalm 50 is about God indicting the people of Israel for simply going through the motions of worship and the practice of the law, but not letting those motions and practices invade their hearts and change them into better followers of God. By the last third of the psalm, God gives evidence of all the ways the people have strayed, which proves how empty their animal sacrifices have been.
I don’t want those animal sacrifices, God says. I don’t need to be fed. Those animals are mine anyway. What I want is the sacrifice of your thanksgiving. These are the key words of the psalm. At first glance, they don’t make much sense really. How is giving thanks a sacrifice? Or perhaps a better question is this: what are we sacrificing when we give thanks? I’m glad you asked!
Every time we thank God for something – an ability, an event, another person, ourselves – we are acknowledging that God is the shaper of that gift. God is the force behind and beneath and within that gift. This acknowledgement is the first step in removing from ourselves the delusion that we are somehow responsible for our own gifts and relocating them to their proper source, which is God. So, in the end, we are sacrificing our pride, which is the presumption that our gifts and abilities come from ourselves rather than God.
When all is said and done, the act of giving thanks is part of the practice of humility. And humility involves the sacrifice of all the delusions and presumptions that stoke our self-importance, our vanity, and our pride. When we give thanks, we properly attribute our giftedness to God’s movement, and then we find that movement swelling up from deep within us, propelling us to serve.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you invite me to locate my gifts in you. Help me to let go of my pride and find your presence within me that animates all my gifts. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, but I take with me your word, which settles deep in my soul and speaks life into my being.
We limit not the truth of God to our poor reach of mind,
To notions of our day and place, crude, partial, and confined;
No, let a new and better hope within our hearts be stirred;
The Lord has yet more light and truth to break forth from his word. (George Rawson)
…Listening In…
Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit; for you have redeemed me, O Lord, O God of truth. (Psalm 31:5: context)
…Filling Up…
A verse from Psalm 31 comes next on my guitar case. It might be classified as one of those psalms of lament that I keep talking about on devotiONEighty. But Psalm 31 varies from classic lament psalms in one specific way: rather than moving from sorrow to timid statement of faith to the desire but not the ability to praise (which is the standard format), Psalm 31 is more of a roller coaster ride. It begins with a statement of faith: “In you, O LORD, have I taken refuge…” Then the middle of the psalm sinks into lament: “Have mercy on me, O LORD, for I am in trouble; my eye is consumed with sorrow, and also my throat and my belly.” Then it rises once again, finally concluding with these words: “Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the LORD.”
I’m so glad that the psalmist put such a roller coaster ride into words. The poetry of this psalm speaks deeply to those who grieve, giving them both the permission to feel sorrow and the expectation to find comfort. And while it falls just five verses into the twenty-four verse poem, the verse above forms the centerpiece of the psalm. Notice the way the verb tenses work across the sentence. In the first half of the verse, we find a present tense action verb, rendered above as “commend.” In the second half, we find a present perfect action verb, rendered above as “have redeemed.” In English, this means that God accomplished the redemption at some unspecified time before the writer commends his or her spirit to God. I’m not a Hebrew scholar, but I’m pretty sure the verbs work in a similar way in the original language.
While studying verb tenses might not get your blood flowing, the progression this verse evokes is incredibly important for our faith in God. I would be utterly incapable of commending my spirit to God if God had not already initiated some sort of relationship with me (in this case, in the form of redemption). This commendation of spirit is the very action that fuels the rest of the roller coaster psalm: there are ups and downs, but the entire varied experience of the psalmist exists within the palm of God’s hand. And in that, I find comfort.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are holding me in the palm of your hand. Help me to feel the support of that hand, a solid and holy ground for my feet. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, grateful for the opportunity to reflect on your word and looking forward to discovering its impact on my life.
We limit not the truth of God to our poor reach of mind,
To notions of our day and place, crude, partial, and confined;
No, let a new and better hope within our hearts be stirred;
The Lord has yet more light and truth to break forth from his word. (George Rawson)
…Listening In…
For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39; context)
…Filling Up…
I find hope and peace in the words that make up the next verses from my old guitar case. They also happen to be one of the selections suggested for funeral services. These are Paul’s soaring words about the love of God that show the infinite and eternal lengths to which God goes to remain in relationship with us.
Nothing – not even death – can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Think about that statement for just a minute. We might survive because we metabolize nutrients and breath air and replenish our water supplies. But we live because of the love of God. The love of God is the foundation of existence; it is the thing from which we cannot and will not be separated. Not even dying will separate us from that love because life happens with so much grander scope than death could ever hope for.
This is the truth that we discover in Christ’s resurrection. This is the truth that lives in our guts and ripples along with tremors of grief when a loved one dies. This is the truth that is the salt in our tears. This is the truth that mingles with our sadness and leavens it with a hidden hope that God’s love will enfold the grieving as that has already enfolded the deceased. That’s why we read these verses at funerals. They speak of true reality. And they speak good news.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are in the midst of all life, both our dim life on earth and our bright life in heaven. Help me to open a space for grief to reside and then allow you to fill it with your presence. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, grateful for the opportunity to reflect on your word and looking forward to discovering its impact on my life.
We limit not the truth of God to our poor reach of mind,
To notions of our day and place, crude, partial, and confined;
No, let a new and better hope within our hearts be stirred;
The Lord has yet more light and truth to break forth from his word. (George Rawson)
…Listening In…
You have turned my wailing into dancing; you have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy. (Psalm 30:12; context)
…Filling Up…
This seventh verse from my old guitar case has long been my favorite verse in the entire Psalter (that’s the fancy word for the book of Psalms). I have no idea how it came to my attention, but I’m glad it did because every once in a while it pops into my head and I sing it to myself for hours.
I just love how the psalmist uses the language to show the 180-degree turn that has happened because God showed up (or more likely because the psalmist realized that God was there all along). Earlier in the psalm, the writer says, “Weeping may spend the night, but joy comes in the morning.” This nightlong weeping turns into dancing when the psalmist notices what God is doing in his or her life.
Likewise, the psalmist lets God remove the sackcloth – that is, the garment of mourning – and figuratively clothe the writer with joy. Think about that. What does it mean to be “clothed with joy?” We wear clothes on the outside of our bodies. They are often the first things people notice about us. Wouldn’t it be amazing if the first thing others saw when they look at us is joy. What a first impression. This is the gift that God promises the psalmist in Psalm 30—that even though there is cause to weep, there is also cause to find great joy. And not only to find joy, but to wear it on your skin for all to see.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are the source of my joy and the grace behind my dance. Help me to wear that joy outwardly so that others can see and feel it and find joy themselves. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, grateful for the opportunity to reflect on your word and looking forward to discovering its impact on my life.
We limit not the truth of God to our poor reach of mind,
To notions of our day and place, crude, partial, and confined;
No, let a new and better hope within our hearts be stirred;
The Lord has yet more light and truth to break forth from his word. (George Rawson)
…Listening In…
This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:12-13; context)
…Filling Up…
Moving down my old guitar case, we come to the sixth verse, which is wedged in diagonally right where the body of the case starts getting wider. I imagine that I taped this verse to the guitar case sometime around Easter one year during college. Jesus speaks these words to his disciples (whom immediately after this he calls “friends”) during his long speech right before he is betrayed, accused, convicted, and killed. So the words here are immediate. Jesus is telling his disciples just how much he loves them (and us) – enough to sacrifice himself in order that they (and we) might have access to that same love.
But beyond the immediate context of Jesus’ final meal with his friends, the words speed through the centuries and lodge themselves into our hearts. Notice that he commands his disciples to love one another. Jesus doesn’t command them to do very many things, but this is one thing he commands them to do on multiple occasions. Does it seem strange to you that he would command one to love another? It might, especially if you think of love primarily as an emotion. “I can’t help loving who I love and not loving who I don’t,” we might protest.
But love is not primarily an emotion. Love is a state of being. Love is the word we use for the voluntary conviction that propels us to step outside of our selfish selves and to discover the riches of building up one another, of finding mutuality, of respecting difference, of speaking out against intolerance and hate. If you’ve read the Harry Potter series, you know that Albus Dumbledore tells Harry on multiple occasions that Harry’s greatest gift is his ability to love. This gift compels Harry into many difficult circumstances, but it also strengthens him to face the challenges before him. If this love were a simple emotion, Harry would never have sustained it for so long, even to the point of his own sacrifice. J.K. Rowling knows that love is not just an emotion.
And so does Jesus. When he commands us to love, he gives us the opportunity to find the state of being that allows us to see a glimpse into God’s own being.
…Praying For…
Dear God, your Son commanded us to love as he loves. Help me to find the conviction to live a life where love is at the center of all my actions. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, grateful for the opportunity to reflect on your word and looking forward to discovering its impact on my life.
We limit not the truth of God to our poor reach of mind,
To notions of our day and place, crude, partial, and confined;
No, let a new and better hope within our hearts be stirred;
The Lord has yet more light and truth to break forth from his word. (George Rawson)
…Listening In…
Then I said, “Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a boy,’ for you shall go to all whom I shall send, and you shall speak whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver, says the Lord.” (Jeremiah 1:6-8; context)
…Filling Up…
We continue surveying the verses on my old guitar case this week. As I said last week, I pasted all the verses on the case during college, which also happened to be the time I was beginning to discern my call to ordained ministry. I was 19 when that whole adventure began (or, at least, when I noticed I was part of that whole adventure), and so these verses from Jeremiah spoke to me.
Jeremiah makes an excuse to God when God calls him to serve: “I am a boy!!” But God doesn’t want to hear it – what’s that matter, God says. I am with you and that should be enough. This is what God usually says when people give God reasons for why they aren’t the right person for the job. And, of course, God dismisses those reasons. And God does so for one simple reason. Whatever the person’s perceived inadequacy (one of which is youth in Jeremiah’s case), God still chooses that person. In fact, God may very well choose people specifically because of an inadequacy — because in our inadequacies is imbedded the most room for us to grow.
If you feel God calling you to a particular place or situation and a reason not to do it crops up in your mind, it may turn out not to be the right call. On the other hand, that reason has a really good chance to be the very thing that God pegged within you that makes you the right person for the job. If you accept the call to serve, you will grow, you will discover new gifts, you will change for the better. And perhaps that old inadequacy will one day turn into a new strength for which to give God thanks.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you call all people to serve in unique ways. Help me to trust that you are calling me to places and situations in which I will find your presence and your grace expanding my abilities to meet the task at hand. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, grateful for the opportunity to reflect on your word and looking forward to discovering its impact on my life.
Sermon for Sunday, May 19, 2013 || Pentecost, Year C || John 14:8-17, 25-27
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus makes one of his biggest promises ever. He is in the middle of his discussion with the disciples, which takes place on the night of his arrest. You can tell from their questions that they are worried, anxious, and fearful. So Jesus promises them this: “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you for ever. This is the Spirit of truth…[the Spirit] abides with you, and…will be with you.”
Jesus made this promise, and if there’s one thing I can believe in, one thing I can rest my weight on, it’s that Jesus never breaks a promise. The Spirit of truth, the Holy Spirit, has been and will be active in the lives of God’s people forever. But the trouble for us followers of Jesus comes, rather paradoxically, in the very constancy of the Holy Spirit’s presence. We humans are so much better at noticing the things that change. The constant things tend to fade into the background of our lives.
Take breathing, for example. Breathing just happens. I’m breathing right now, and I’m not giving my breath a second thought. I can be unconscious all night, and yet my breath keeps going, independent of my control. For the better part of each day, I am completely unaware of my breathing, and yet my respiratory system continues to function with constant efficiency.
But in one of God’s marvels of human engineering, if I decide to, I can focus on my breath. I can choose to take in a deep lungful of air, or I can choose to hold my breath underwater, or I can choose to let my breath out slowly to calm myself down. Breathing is an unnoticed constant in our lives until we decide to focus on the air entering and exiting our lungs. Then the act of breathing becomes something that we consciously participate in.
Do you know what is the same word as “breath” in the ancient biblical languages? You guessed it. Spirit. Just like our breath, the Holy Spirit is a constant presence in our lives, active within and around us. Because of this constancy, we have a tendency to overlook the Spirit’s presence and to allow the Spirit to fade into the background. But also just like our breath, we have the opportunity to focus on the Holy Spirit’s presence, to breath in a deep lungful of the Spirit, so to speak. When we do this, we actively participate in the transformation that the Spirit is subtly working in our lives.
I’d like to spend the rest of this sermon speaking about several ways the Spirit moves. This won’t be an exhaustive list by any means, but I encourage you to listen for a way in which the Spirit has moved in your life, or a way you pray the Spirit will move.
If you’ve ever had the impulse to create, then you’ve felt the Holy Spirit move in your life. If you’ve ever penned a poem or sang a song or played an instrument or stepped a dance or planted a garden or written a love letter or experimented with ingredients or built an imaginary world or raised a child or made a dream a reality, then you’ve participated in the Holy Spirit’s movement.
The Spirit connects with us via the creative spark, which God implanted in each of us. Being made in the image of God means that God gave us the gift of imagining. The Creator made us to be creative. And just as the Holy Spirit was with God, brooding over the depths at the moment when God spoke creation into being, the Holy Spirit is also with us when we access our own creativity. In fact, the Spirit catalyzes the creative process in us. God has never stopped creating; therefore, one of the ways the Spirit keeps us in relationship with God is keeping us creating too. In my own life, whenever I sit down to write a song, I know the Spirit has prompted me to do so and will guide me as I create new music. So that’s number one: the creative impulse.
If you’ve ever sensed which direction to go, then you’ve felt the Holy Spirit move in your life. If you’ve ever been lost – not on the map, but in your heart – and then felt a subtle beckoning down a new path, and at the moment you took the first step in that new direction you felt your heart shine with the rightness of it all, then you’ve participated in the Holy Spirit’s movement.
The ancient biblical languages use the same word for breath and spirit and for another word: wind. The Holy Spirit is the unseen wind, which subtly pushes us in one direction or another. The wind is both constant and unpredictable, always blowing, but perhaps blowing in a direction we might not expect. When we are lost, the Holy Spirit is present, and we have the opportunity to trim our sails and catch the wind. In my own life, I’ve experienced the Spirit’s presence in this way at the rare times when I have actually been able to give up control. That’s number two: sense of direction to go along with the creative impulse.
If you’ve ever had a sudden sense of peace wash over you, then you’ve felt the Holy Spirit move in your life. If you’ve ever been rushing around, moving to and fro, trying to keep up, trying just to keep your feet in a maelstrom of activity, but then something prompted you just to stop, take a deep breath, then you’ve participated in the Holy Spirit’s movement.
Each time Jesus gives his friends the gift of the Spirit, he also gives them his own peace. Peace is not just the absence of conflict; rather, peace is the soil in which new wholeness grows out of old fragmentation. The Holy Spirit nurtures this growth in us, always pushing us away from brokenness and towards wholeness, towards peace. In my own life, the Spirit has encountered me in this way when I have stopped doing, stopped acting, and have just existed for a spell, just abided in the Spirit’s constant presence. That’s three: sense of peace. Sense of direction. Creative impulse.
Finally, if you’ve ever felt deeply connected to another person, then you’ve felt the Holy Spirit move in your life. If you’ve ever held another’s hand or embraced or laughed together and known in a place deeper than normal knowing that your two souls are connected, woven together, then you’ve participated in the Holy Spirit’s movement.
The Holy Trinity is the perfect relationship of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — so perfect, in fact, that there is only one God, though we name God as three persons. There cannot be a Father without a Son, nor a Son without a Father. Nor can there be the perfect relationship without love. This love connecting Father and Son in perfect relationship is the Holy Spirit. Whenever we feel a deep connection to another person, we are participating in our own small way in the divine relationship of the Trinity. The Holy Spirit makes our loving connections possible. In my own life, I’ve felt this deep connection since the day I met Leah, and I expect I’ll feel it again when we have our own children. That’s four: deep connection.
The creative impulse. Sense of direction. Sense of peace. Deep connection. These are only four of the vast expanse of ways the Holy Spirit is moving in our lives. Like breathing, the Spirit is active whether or not we recognize the Spirit’s movement. But God engineered us to be capable of focusing on our breath and on the Holy Spirit. So I invite you this week to celebrate the Spirit’s movement in your life. Engage in an act of creation. Catch the wind blowing you in a new direction. Stop for a moment and embrace a sense of peace. Rejoice in the deep connections in your life. And know in the place deeper than normal knowing that God the Holy Spirit will abide with you forever.
Words written fifty years ago, a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago, can have as much…power today as ever they had it then to come alive for us and in us and to make us more alive within ourselves. (Frederick Buechner)
…Listening In…
But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31; context)
…Filling Up…
Verse four on the guitar case comes from the end of the 40th chapter of the book of the prophet Isaiah and it is in the running for most beautiful verse of scripture in the entire Bible. I can’t remember what made me put on the guitar case, but it’s influence since I have has been profound. Ever since I began walking with families through their grief at the death of a loved one, I have suggested the reading that includes this verse for one of the readings at the funeral.
This verse is full of hope, but at the same time, it acknowledges just how severely life can run you down. It does not gloss over the reality that the daily grind coupled with the occasional catastrophe can erode away a person to nothingness. It speaks about renewing strength, implying that strength has been lost; about flying like an eagle, implying that there has been a low point; about becoming weary; about fainting.
But rather than speaking directly about losing strength and fainting, Isaiah speaks as if those things have already or will soon pass. He doesn’t say that those who wait for the Lord might renew their strength. He says that they will renew their strength. He speaks as if they are foregone conclusions. And you know what, when we are speaking of God’s promises, they are.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you will always bear me up when I fall. Help me to believe the promises you make to your people through the words of your prophets, so that I may continue to fly upon the wings of your faith. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, with your words on my lips and your joy in my heart, ready to share both with all I meet.
Words written fifty years ago, a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago, can have as much…power today as ever they had it then to come alive for us and in us and to make us more alive within ourselves. (Frederick Buechner)
…Listening In…
I will praise the Name of God in song; I will proclaim his greatness with thanksgiving. (Psalm 69:32; context)
…Filling Up…
The third verse down the neck of my guitar case comes from a special type of psalm called a “psalm of lament.” In this category of psalm, the writer bewails a tragedy (or two or three or four) that has befallen. The writer goes on to wonder if God is anywhere nearby or if God is going to help out because it sure seems that God has cut and run.
Now, you think: “Gee, that verse above does sound very much like a lamentation. Are you sure you got the citation right, Adam?” Good observation. Yes, the citation is correct. And yes, this verse doesn’t sound much like the thirty plus verses that come before it. Indeed, the first four verses of the psalm read, “Save me, O God, for the waters have risen up to my neck. I am sinking in deep mire, and there is no firm ground for my feet. I have come into deep waters, and the torrent washes over me. I have grown weary with my crying; my throat is inflamed; my eyes have failed from looking for my God.”
This is one grief-stricken psalmist. How could the writer get from looking for God to praising God in song? Good question. Right here is where the future tense comes in. Notice that the psalmist says, “I will praise… I will proclaim…” The psalmist is mired in grief, blinded by sorrow. This writer feels abandoned and on the verge of despair. At the moment of penning this psalm, the writer cannot praise God or proclaim God’s greatness.
But even in this deepest lamentation, there is a glimmer of hope, and that glimmer is captured in the future tense. Someday – maybe not tomorrow or next week or next year – but someday, the psalmist will once again praise the name of God again. Psalms of lamentation give us an example to follow when we are in the midst of grief. They give us permission to feel the feelings of loss and sorrow and abandonment. But they also give us the hope that praising and singing and thanksgiving will come again in time.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you never abandon me, even when I cannot feel your presence. Help me when I am on the verge of despair to hold on to the sliver of hope that is a future full of your presence. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, with your words on my lips and your joy in my heart, ready to share both with all I meet.
Words written fifty years ago, a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago, can have as much…power today as ever they had it then to come alive for us and in us and to make us more alive within ourselves. (Frederick Buechner)
…Listening In…
O Lord, you have dealt graciously with your servant, according to your word. Teach me discernment and knowledge, for I have believed in your commandments. (Psalm 119:65-66; context)
…Filling Up…
The second verse from the top of the guitar case comes from the longest psalm in the book. In fact, the verses quoted above are at the beginning of the second third of the psalm. There are over 100 verses after that! Anyway, I remember pasting these two verses to my guitar after I started the formal process of discernment for ordained ministry. This is probably why I was struck by the phrase “teach me discernment.”
Basically, the psalmist wants to learn how to learn. “Teach me discernment” could also read, “show me how to open my eyes so I can begin to see properly.” Or “show me how to work these legs of mine so I can start following your path.” When the psalmist asks God to teach discernment, the psalmist shows that he has discovered that he is at the very beginning of his journey, no matter that a third of the psalm is already through.
Even though I am now a priest (that is, I navigated the six year process from initial inquiry to ordination), I still need to ask God to teach me how to discern. Discernment happens when you cultivate an atmosphere of prayerful reflection. Within this atmosphere, the discerner asks God to be present in the act of noticing all the choices in front of him or her. In the end, discernment is all about seeing the whole field when you make a decision (sorry for that football metaphor; it sort of snuck in). Every quarterback (even Tom Brady and Peyton Manning) has a coach to help him see the field. And we do too. So my prayer is that we each ask God to teach us discernment.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you continue to teach me things every day of my life. Help me to be receptive to those lessons so that I can invite you into every decision I make and find a fuller life in you. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, with your words on my lips and your joy in my heart, ready to share both with all I meet.
…Opening To…
Jesus made this promise, and if there’s one thing I can believe in, one thing I can rest my weight on, it’s that Jesus never breaks a promise. The Spirit of truth, the Holy Spirit, has been and will be active in the lives of God’s people forever. But the trouble for us followers of Jesus comes, rather paradoxically, in the very constancy of the Holy Spirit’s presence. We humans are so much better at noticing the things that change. The constant things tend to fade into the background of our lives.
Where the Wind... 