In an homage to the preferred story-telling method of one of my writing heroes, Aaron Sorkin, this new Christmas pageant takes place during a rehearsal for a traditional Christmas pageant. Over the course of the play, the traditional elements of the pageant get untangled from each other and we distill the stories as told by Matthew and Luke. Continue reading “The Best Christmas Pageant Never (A New Christmas Pageant Script)”
…Opening To…Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers…
How did it go?
How did it go? (Shel Silverstein, “Forgotten Language”)
Some people brought children to Jesus so that he would place his hands on them and pray. But the disciples scolded them. “Allow the children to come to me,” Jesus said. “Don’t forbid them, because the kingdom of heaven belongs to people like these children.” Then he blessed the children and went away from there. (Matthew 19:13-15; context)
The natural physical manifestation of imagination and wonder is our final thing to access from our early childhoods. This is called Play. Play happens when we engage both our imaginations and our bodies. We dance to unheard music, we build castles with pillows and sheets, we sculpt mountain ranges with our mashed potatoes, we hum the language of mosquitoes.
For our early years, play is the most common manner in which we encounter and learn about the world. There is very little separation between play and the rest of life. There’s no such thing as “playtime” because all time is playtime. Play leads to better manual dexterity, better spatial relations, and more active imagination. But at some point during childhood, play becomes segregated from the more serious side of life. Parents tell children to “stop playing with your food.” The message is now: “Dinner is serious business.”
But this segregation between “play” and “the rest of life” can be damaging to our walks with God. The more pure the play of small children, the more they are able to access the unfettered creativity that God used when creating the Universe. In a sense, God was playing during creation: what other explanation could there possibly be for the duck-billed platypus!
So go ahead and play with your food. Make a mashed potato mountain range, and maybe you will find yourself in a deeper connection with the One who made the real mountains.
Dear God, you filled your Creation with wonders for us to see and learn about. Help me to find the curiosity and the inhibition to be truly playful again, that I might let go of the bounds I have put around you. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, joyful that I have been in your presence for my whole existence, whether I remember or not.
…Opening To…
We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you;
Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.
When they came to a place called Golgotha, which means Skull Place, they gave Jesus wine mixed with vinegar to drink. But after tasting it, he didn’t want to drink it. After they crucified him, they divided up his clothes among them by drawing lots. (Matthew 27:33-35; context)
This Holy Week we are be meditating on the fourteen “Stations of the Cross.” The Opening and Sending sections of this week’s Devos, as well as the italicized verses at the end of each station come from the Episcopal “Way of the Cross” service found in the Book of Occasional Services. (If you’d like to hear the complete work before Friday, check out the music page.)
Station 9: Jesus falls the third time
By the waters of Babylon,
I hung my harp from the wall.
Darkness my only companion,
For the third time I see my Lord fall.
This strange land will hear no song of Zion,
This strange land that sees him crawl.
Remember, O Lord, my affliction:
The wormwood and the gall
The wormwood and the gall
He was led like a lamb to the slaughter:
And like a sheep that before its shearers is mute, so he opened not his mouth.
Station 10: Jesus is stripped of his garments
The stench of decay is all around
When the bloody procession slows.
At Golgotha the only sound
Is the cawing of a thousand greedy crows.
They stop and strip his clothes to the ground
And offer him wine he loathes.
The soldiers are slapping their wagers down:
They gamble for his clothes,
And they gamble for his clothes.
They gave me gall to eat;
And when I was thirsty they gave me vinegar to drink.
Dear God, your holy Son was stripped of his clothes and his humanity, and he was reduced to a discarded piece of flesh hung on the cross. Yet he did not lose his dignity, nor his power, nor his conviction. In my dark days, clothe me with Christ and help me cling to him, in whose name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, glorying in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, in whom is our salvation, our life, and resurrection.
…Opening To…We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you;
Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.
They led him away to crucify him. As they were going out, they found Simon, a man from Cyrene. They forced him to carry his cross. (Matthew 26:31-32; context)
This Holy Week we are be meditating on the fourteen “Stations of the Cross.” The Opening and Sending sections of this week’s Devos, as well as the italicized verses at the end of each station come from the Episcopal “Way of the Cross” service found in the Book of Occasional Services. (If you’d like to hear the complete work before Friday, check out the music page.)
Station 5: The Cross is laid on Simon of Cyrene
A stranger comes from the country,
Simon by name;
As they lay the cross on him,
He sees a flame
In Jesus’ eye which seems to say:
“Take my yoke and learn from me,
Take your cross and follow me,
And I will be with you.
Search your heart and yearn for me
And no longer hollow be
For I have already filled you.
“Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me:
Cannot be my disciple.”
Station 6: A woman wipes the face of Jesus
A woman walks out from the crowd,
Damp cloth in hand;
As she wipes his sweaty brow,
She beholds a man
Acquainted with grief, a man of sorrows.
His appearance is so marred
But intact is his soul,
Which bears our total rejection.
For our transgressions is he scarred;
By his passion we are whole,
And with his stripes we are healed.
“Restore us, O Lord God of hosts:
Show us the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.”
Dear God, your holy Son walked the way of the cross with the help of a stranger. Give me the courage to invite the other into my life for our mutual benefit and for your greater glory. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, glorying in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, in whom is our salvation, our life, and resurrection.
…Opening To…We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you;
Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.
Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere and that a riot was starting. So he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I’m innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It’s your problem.” All the people replied, “Let his blood be on us and on our children.” Then he released Barabbas to them. He had Jesus whipped, then handed him over to be crucified. (Matthew 26:24-26; context)
This Holy Week (and today and tomorrow leading up to it), we will be meditating on the fourteen “Stations of the Cross.” The Opening and Sending sections of this week’s Devos, as well as the italicized verses at the end of each station come from the Episcopal “Way of the Cross” service found in the Book of Occasional Services. My take on the Stations is not just poetic, it’s musical. So you can listen to an acoustic version using the music players. I hope these pieces deepen your Holy Week experience as writing and performing them has deepened mine.
Station 1: Jesus is condemned to death
Morning,
And Jesus stands condemned to die;
With thorns adorning
His bloody face and piercing eye.
The crowd is jeering:
“Away with him and crucify.”
And Pilate fearing,
Hands him over in reply.
“God did not spare his own Son:
But delivered him up for us all.”
Station 2: Jesus takes up his Cross
Bearing
His cross alone the way he treads;
While he is sharing
Our suffering, sorrow, pain, and dread.
The world is violent,
A place where sin and shame are bred;
And he is silent,
Like a lamb to slaughter he is led
“The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all:
For the transgression of my people was he stricken.”
Dear God, your holy Son suffered unjust condemnation and bore the staggering weight of the cross on his back. Help me to accept the overwhelming love that Jesus showed in these humbling acts. In his name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, glorying in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, in whom is our salvation, our life, and resurrection.
…Opening To…Yesterday, you understood a little; today, you understand better; tomorrow, you will understand better still: the light of God is growing in you. (St. Augustine of Hippo)
Then Jesus said to his disciples, “ All who want to come after me must say no to themselves, take up their cross, and follow me. All who want to save their lives will lose them. But all who lose their lives because of me will find them. (Matthew 16:24-25; context)
This Lent, we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “L” is for Losing. Losing is not fun. Think about those guys from the losing team in the Super Bowl. They don’t get a new hat or shirt and they don’t get to stand under confetti showers shouting, “I’m going to Disney World!” Losing Oscar hopefuls have to grit their teeth and tell the press that it was just an honor to be nominated. Losing candidates drift into obscurity or pundit-hood on cable news.
Society tells us that, if we want success, we must surround ourselves with winners, not losers. And yet, the Christian faith consciously and without reservation came together around a guy who purposefully lost. Jesus Christ could have run away from his fate. He could have fought the Empire with a small but heroic band of diehards. But he didn’t. He walked into the lion’s den. He walked up the hill with the cross on his shoulder. He walked to his death. He lost his life. He’s the world’s most famous loser.
Of course, that’s only the middle of the story. The triumph of the Resurrection cannot occur without the defeat, without the loss, of the Crucifixion. The author of our faith lost willingly. When we suffer losses, when we feel defeated, we can take comfort in knowing that our stories will never end there. Because of the triumph that followed on the heels of Christ’s defeat, we have the opportunity to participate in the triumphant final chapters of our own stories.
Dear God, you are with me in triumph and defeat. Help me to pick myself up after a loss, know that you are with me in that time, and give me patience for the triumphs that will come. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, thankful that you continue to shine your light in my heart and mind, that I may continue to know you better through every way that you choose to reveal yourself.
…Opening To…Yesterday, you understood a little; today, you understand better; tomorrow, you will understand better still: the light of God is growing in you. (St. Augustine of Hippo)
Our Father who is in heaven, uphold the holiness of your name. Bring in your kingdom so that your will is done on earth as it’s done in heaven. (Matthew 6:9-10; context)
This Lent, we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “K” is for Kingdom. A kingdom is, essentially, a place where a king or queen lives. The legitimacy of the government of the ruler of the kingdom comes from the monarch himself or herself and not from the people governed. This political definition of “kingdom” leads to another, less gender specific word that has to do with kings and queens: sovereignty. A “sovereign” is a person who has complete authority over other people. If the sovereign asks you to jump, you say “How high.” Countries of the world don’t like it very much when other countries influence their affairs because it is a breach of national “sovereignty,” that is “self-determination.”
So what does this have to do with God? I’m glad you asked. As the Creator of all that is, God has always been the sovereign of Creation, but God ceded us our own personal sovereignty when God granted us free will. When we pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” we are actively praying for the ability to give ourselves back to God, to cede our sovereignty back to its rightful home. When we ask God to annex our personal territory back into God’s kingdom, we set up pockets of resistance against the forces of evil that are attempting to pull Creation into non-being (more about this in a few days). And when we join together into communities of faith, those pockets of territory become larger, more organized forces that participate in the in-breaking of God’s kingdom here on Earth.
Dear God, you are the sovereign of all Creation; help me to recognize how I may work with you to make your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, thankful that you continue to shine your light in my heart and mind, that I may continue to know you better through every way that you choose to reveal yourself.
…Opening To…We come this morning –
Like empty pitchers to a full fountain,
With no merits of our own.
O Lord – open up a window of heaven,
And lean out far over the battlements of glory,
And listen this morning. (James Weldon Johnson)
And when you fast, don’t put on a sad face like the hypocrites. They distort their faces so people will know they are fasting. I assure you that they have their reward. When you fast, brush your hair and wash your face. Then you won’t look like you are fasting to people, but only to your Father who is present in that secret place. Your Father who sees in secret will reward you. (Matthew 6:16-18; context)
This Lent, we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “F” is for Fasting. A fast is a way to make a space, to open up a hole within ourselves. A fast is an active and difficult denial of something that has influence over us (traditionally food, though fasts certainly are not limited to that area). When we fast, we forgo the things that we usually use to fill us up. And when we cease to fill ourselves up with all the junk of the world, we make room within ourselves for God.
Fasting intentionally opens up a hole for God to fill. When you move, you always have boxes piled up for a while. But then you unpack a little bit at a time and then sooner or later you can walk around the house unhindered by all our stuff. This is what fasting does for us. When we clear away the rubbish that has piled up in our interior selves, we make a space for God to come in and dwell. And the more interior square footage we devote to God, the better we will be able to listen and respond to God’s movement in our lives.
If you tend to fill yourself up with stuff you don’t really need, then don’t buy anything beyond basic necessity. If you tend to fill yourself up with worry about the security of your livelihood, then stop and pray when you find anxiety setting in. If you tend to fill yourself up with desire to live as the rich and famous do, then skip the grocery aisle magazine racks and E! Entertainment for a while.
As you deny yourself the things that normally fill you up, actively invite God to enter the newly cleared space. Choose to fast. Clear away the rubbish, hollow out your insides, and give God a place to fill.
Dear God, you are present both within me and around me. Help me to make more room for you to fill within so that I can listen more closely to your voice. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, taking hope in the overarching reality that you are the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.
…Opening To…We say we read to “escape.” …A book so excites our imagination that we “consume” it… What would it feel like to consume the sacred book? Or to be consumed by it? To eat it, chew it, swallow it, digest it, to make it a part of you? (Roger Ferlo)
Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up a mountain. He sat down and his disciples came to him. He taught them, saying: “Happy are people who are downcast, because the kingdom of heaven is theirs.” (Matthew 5:1-3; context; the three chapters that make up the Sermon on the Mount have 22 headers in the Bible I’m using for this. Thankfully, most are fairly neutral.)
The third thing you should do when you read the Bible is ignore several things that clutter the page you’re looking at. None of these things is original to the text and so you will read more authentically when you fail to notice them. (That being said, the English language, paper, spaces between words, and in some cases vowels aren’t part of the original text either, but you’ll get the idea.)
First and most important, ignore the section headers. These are the bold or italicized phrases that purport to tell you what you are about to read. Sometimes, these are quite neutral, such as “Jesus says some stuff” or “Moses goes up the mountain.” Other times, the headers can sway your reading before you do it. A section might be headed, “Jesus says why some folks are bad” or “Moses is angry because of what Aaron did.” These types of headers act like the names of pieces of orchestral music: you read the name and then the music makes you think of whatever the name described. If the music had no name, you’d be free to come up with your own imaginative description of the music.
Along with the headers, ignore the chapter breaks and verse numbers. These were added much later to make it easier for people to find stuff in the text, not to set off little bits of it at a time. (I talked about this last week.) When we let the chapters and verses break up our reading, we sometimes artificially shorten the writers train of thought, and that’s not a good thing.
Finally, ignore the red text. In many editions of the Bible, Jesus’ words are set off by the use of red ink. Now, please don’t misunderstand — don’t ignore the words printed in red text. Rather, ignore the fact the red ink is used at all. The red letters set off Jesus’ words from the rest of the text, making them seem more important. Remember, however, that the entire Gospel is Jesus’ Gospel, not just the words he speaks in dialogue. His actions and the reactions of his followers and opponents are just as important as the words he says.
Dear God, you put the spark of creativity within me. Help me to interpret the Bible in ways that promote my creation and my continued growth in you. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, gladdened by the prospect of meeting you in the Bible.
…Opening To…If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, “thank you,” that would suffice. (Meister Eckhart)
Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,teaching them to obey everything that I’ve commanded you. Look, I myself will be with you every day until the end of this present age.” (Matthew 28:19-20; context)
When we take the long view of events in our pasts, we find the ability to thank God for difficult and challenging times that have led our lives in directions we never imagined. This sort of gratitude accomplishes more than simple thanks to God. By acknowledging that we have no idea whatsoever how our lives are going to turn out, we practice humility in the face of the expansive unknown that we benignly call “future.”
When my heart was broken in the summer of 2006, my life seemed pretty much over from that point on. But you know what? It wasn’t. Try as I might to hold on to the recent past, when I thought things were so good, I kept slipping and sliding into the future no matter what I did. And six years later, I must say that the future I was attempting to avoid is so much better than the future into which I had shoehorned myself and the woman who broke my heart.
So today, I invite you to give thanks for the vast expanse of possibility that the future holds. This sort of thanksgiving is the birthplace of hope – which is the willing expectation that the boundaries of possibility are far wider than we perceive. So give thanks to God for possibility, for newness, for adventure. And then take a step with God into the untamed wilderness that is tomorrow, knowing all the while that God has already explored this jungle and will lead you through.
Dear God, you know our pasts, our presents, and our futures. Help me to open myself up to the future you have designed for me, and help me to invite you on the journey, exploring that future with me. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
I leave this moment with you, God, eager to look for your blessing in my life and eager to be a reason that others give thanks to you.
Where the Wind... 