ten::thirty

Make not assumptions,
but remain quiet
when you can
and listen instead.
The Spirit knows
better to pray
what is good
and is true.
Be the last,
not the first;
to be healthy
is to be
in the grace
of our God.
It is pride
making us blind,
so be silent,
only then speak.

(Romans 8:26-30, Psalm 13, Luke 13:22-30)

O mother, our Father

She groans, our mother,
the earth:

"When will they remember,
my children,
the children of God,
and reveal their dirt,
rub in the dust
to which they will return?
I want to replant them,
to watch them grow,
to see them weep with me."

O Father in heaven,
remind us of our earthiness
and the place your Word made.
With words and touch
make us reminders,
the sons and daughters of God
being revealed.

(Romans 8:18-25, Psalm 126, Luke 13:18-21)

ten::twentynine

(a homily)

We are children. Children of God. Children of hope. Heirs. Adopted.

We are sons and daughters of the God who favors the widow, the orphan, the poor. The God who for the sake of the forsaken suffered on the cross. We, too then, are to be sufferers as joint heirs with Christ.

And Christ is the Word of God made flesh, present in the world to make the bent straight and show the straight their crooked spines. Christ releases those in bondage to flesh and makes them the Body of Christ, a community that does not forsake the physical, but works towards the redemption of all things by the Spirit.

This Spirit is among us. The Spirit of Truth. The Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. The Spirit that brings us life. The Spirit that will sanctify the bread and wine. The Spirit that makes us holy, that, should we be open, guides us in all we do, continuing the ministry of Christ in the world.

So, children, let us come before our Father, Abba, the God of salvation, of healing and reconciliation. We are called to join in the life of Christ, to be glad and rejoice, to celebrate our liberation, and to go forth as a sign of the Kingdom.

(Romans 8:12-17, Psalm 68, Luke 13:10-17)

ten::twentyseven

I do not know what to think this morning. The readings tell me that those in Christ, once dead, are now alive by the Spirit. The Psalmist affirms God created land and all that is on on the waters of chaos, and in them as well. And Then we are to repent at the sound of Jesus' words concerning the guilt we all have. So where are we? Free? Created? Guilty? Can we be all of these at once?

I feel rather free most of the time. I'm aware of the creation, and as such, the Creator. I'm beginning to understand the stories of creation. And I see all around me and inside me how quickly freedom fails and how unaware creatures, well humans, are unrepentant of their ignorance of the creation, choosing hate over love, greed over contentment, acquisition over sharing. And the world falls apart.

But what then of the fig parabolic fig tree? Here is our sign of hope. Somehow, in the midst of this weedy garden, left to destroy itself by the powers, stripped of nutrients by deceived and scared and poor farmers, there is a gardener willing to care about a tree, to work to see it bear fruit. This gardened is freed by the Spirit, seeing the possibility of health in a corrupted plant, the new creation of fleshy fruit. By grace, freedom, guilt, and creation come together to tell as story of renewal and hope, caring love.

Let us seek after this hope. Chaos has been invoked by the powers and state officials, but the children of God, filled with the Spirit know freedom and through us the world can be touched for renewal.

(Romans 8:1-11, Psalm 24, Luke 13:1-9)

ten::(twentyfive)twentysix

Go inside there,
there into the inner most,
the catacombs of the soul,
the dank quiet parts.
Silence yourself
and come back together,
the will and members.
Speak simply
difficult things.
Delight in the guidance
the light,
the distinctions
and unions.
Come out and look,
see the world,
speak from the depths.

(twentyfive: Romans 6:19-23, Psalm 1, Luke 12:49-53; twentysix: Romans 7:18-25, Psalm 119, Luke 12:54-59)

ten::twentythree(twentyfour)

The following is a sermon I preached October 23 at Hopwood Christian Church for the Adoration service.. The text happened to fit in well with the lectionary Gospel texts, Luke 12:22-31.

"Consider the Lilies"

“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.”

Let us, for a moment, consider the lilies. I’m thinking particularly of the ones that begin to bloom in the late spring and early summer by the roads of East Tennessee. The beautiful, bursting, day lilies that remind me that this is a good place to be. There is something mysterious in the way they open and close throughout their days under the sun, or even when they’ve been displaced from the ground and put in an empty Dr. Enuf bottle on the living room table. Their beauty mesmerizes me; their knowledge of when to open, speaking volumes with their intricate and varied shades of orange, and when to go into solitude and await the call of the daylight shames me. How do they know to come up again that time every year? How are they, in their nakedness before the world, so delightfully attired? So often we speak out of turn, and we have to try so hard to maintain an image. Why are we not like the lilies? Consider the lilies.

Considering the beauty of created things can help us to consider the beauty of their Creator. Surely, we may be tempted to forget God in looking upon the material world. But doing so would simply show us to be disoriented, unable to relate ourselves to the world in holiness. Thomas Merton, in reflecting on the way the saints have related themselves to the world, says, “It was because the saints were absorbed in God that they were truly capable of seeing and appreciating created things and it was because they loved Him alone that they alone loved everybody” (23). Further, Merton writes, “The saint knows that the world and everything made by God is good, while those who are not saints either think that created things are unholy, or else they don’t bother about the question one way or another because they are only interested in themselves” (24).

Here we begin to see the problem. Self-interest leads to disinterest in the creation all around us, from the trees, to the rivers, to the ozone layer, to the soil, and yes, the children of God throughout the world. Not considering lilies just might lead to not considering the stranger and the supposed friend. It is disinterest in the good things God has created, and misguided attention to self that leads to division among people and their environment; it leads even to the great evil of an institution such as War. Seeing only the need to acquire and wield power over others, the masses rally behind prideful, yet “sound-sounding” clichés marinated in hatred and greed. Out of an unwillingness to have faith that God can be trusted to provide for their needs and a blindness to the goodness of all that God has made, people pit themselves against one another in war rooms, battlefields, the streets, even in churches, dormitories, classrooms, and households, all the while thinking there is no other way. But there is another way. There is the Way.

Let us remember, then, that what God has created is good. Fifth century mystic and bishop, St. Diadochos of Photiki, has some helpful words for us today as we struggle to see the goodness around us: "Evil does not exist by nature, nor is any man naturally evil, for God made nothing that was not good. When in the desire of his heart someone conceives and gives form to what in reality has no existence, then what he desires begins to exist. We should therefore turn our attention away from the inclination to evil and concentrate it on the remembrance of God; for good, which exists by nature, is more powerful than our inclination to evil. The one has existence while the other has not, except when we give it existence through our actions." All that God has made is good.

Consider the lilies, good in their existence as lilies, as they should be. Consider the human being: very good, made in the image of God, according to God’s likeness. Sadly, human history can sometimes seem to be a chronicle of the forgetting of that image, but we are here to remember. And we have mundane, yet good and beautiful things to help us remember. We have gathered to sing songs of angels and poets, saints and sinners. The Word of God has been read over us, bidding us to listen, training us to hear creation weep. We gather here to shed off the things that hinder us, the stuff beyond the clothing of a lily: vanity, fear, pride, fashion, doubt, bitterness. We have gathered here to see simple bread and fruit of the vine transformed into a holy meal that transforms us. In this place of worship, we are faced with profound simplicity: birds neither reap nor sow, yet they eat; grass does nothing, but no designer-clad runway model could outshine the beauty of a simple flower that grows in a field. This is the vision of a new creation, a good creation.

Worship, prayer, the Eucharist: these all draw us beyond ourselves, shaping us into people able to concentrate on the remembrance of God, to love God fully, and in turn love all. In love, and for the Kingdom of God, we strive. As we endeavor, let us consider the lilies, or whatever our favorite flower or tree or animal may be. Let us consider our neighbor, our brothers and sisters. Let us consider and contemplate the goodness of God seen in all that is.

ten::twentytwo

(a homily)

Gathering here together this morning we receive a grand inheritance. Even if we find it hard to have faith, we are in the right place, for we are reminded by the Scripture and by the liturgy that God provides. God, though subtle the presence, is among us, in the Word, even in the one next to us, behind us, before us. The Holy Spirit, in us and in our brothers and sisters, gives us faith to believe, faith to help us become rich in what matters to God.

In other words, we are here because we recognize or are learning to recognize that we cannot provide for ourselves. We are here honestly and humbly seeking God, our true sustenance. We, like the bread and wine, need the descent of the Holy Spirit upon us to be made holy, to be made the body of Christ. As that Body we are able to leave behind possessions and live into the prophecy of Zechariah, to be a free people, holy and righteous in the sight of God. In light of our humble worship, we can speak truthfully and prophetically to a world bent on building destructive storehouses. In the Spirit's power we can do this with mercy and love.

And so, let us continue on here toward the table in prayerful hop and love. Let us open ourselves up to the power of the life-giving Spirit to the glory of God our Father and the Savior Jesus Christ, God's Holy and Righteous Son.

(Romans 4:20-25, Luke 1:69-75, Luke 12:13-21)

ten::twentyone

Listen and rely on the Word.
Mere disappointment follows
the other kinds of options.
Listen to others thoughts
out of love and trust
that goodness can flow.
Here begins conversation,
faith in the sight of another.
Keep asking, in love,
keep listening, in trust.
And so help arrives.

(Exodus 17:8-13, Psalm 121, 2 Timothy 3:14-4:2, Luke 18:1-8)

ten::eighteen(nineteen)twenty

Remember, believe,
do not forget, words
are not always your own.
If they are good words,
they are not yours.
For good words come
to those open,
those attuned in silence,
humble and ready,
listening and asking,
living and loving.
There are better words,
sentences of peace,
poems of grace,
prayers of understanding.
There is always silence,
that waiting,
that patience and stillness
moving hearts.
Remember that God remembers,
brings together,
sends Spirit, truth,
ever-flowing love.
And here words
show Word.
The language
of a stilled tongue
speaks volumes,
healing iniquitous vocabularies,
breathing life
through windy words.


(eighteen: 2 Timothy 4:10-17, Psalm 145, Luke 10:1-9; nineteen: Romans 4:1-8, Psalm 32, Luke 12:1-7; twenty: Romans 4:13, 16-18, Psalm 105, Luke 12:8-12)

ten::(sixteen)seventeen

I've been wondering
about the water, again,
that life source
running out today.
Some still rely
one the watery depths
for provision and travel,
and I wonder
if they are more aware
of Tiamat,
the goddess of chaos.
(Most seem content
with the bitch-goddess, Fortuna.)
With our ocean liners,
country destroyers,
jet skis, yachts,
false ponds, training pools,
toilets, showers, and hot tubs,
we're disengaged,
desensitized to the mystery
beyond the coast.
The shark and the ocean are one.
The human and land are one.
But are these opposed?
Can we not see both are calling?
They bid us to question,
to consider the depths,
to meditate on the heights,
and it seems with them
there is little room to waver.
The waters call us to wash,
and not the surface only.
Land calls us home.
The waters underground
and from the sky,
these we need to consider more.
Remember the rain's taste,
the springs of delight and life.

(sixteen: Romans 1:16-25, Psalm 19, Luke 11:37-41; seventeen: Romans 2:1-11, Psalm 62, Luke 11:42-46)

ten::fifteen

You want signs, they are here.
They may not seem spectacular,
love, these days, not being something trained for,
therefore difficult to observe
unless lived in and by.

(Romans 1:1-7, Psalm 98, Luke 11:29-32)

ten::twelve(thirteen)fourteen

Things are shakier that you thought.
Things will not stop.
The unjustices, the lies,
they will keep circulating
in a spiral up and down.
I raise my glass.
I tip my cup.
Oblation and creation.
Words have come undone.
What meaning do we want?
What meaning is given,
are we given?
I will accept the gift.
May I ask that you'd try to think?

(twelve: Joel 1:13-15; 2:1-2, Psalm 9, Luke 11:15-26; thirteen: Joel 4:12-21, Psalm 97, Luke 11:27-28; 2 Kings 5:14-17, Psalm 98, 2 Timothy 2:8-13, Luke 17:11-19)

ten::eleven

They give snakes and scorpions,
the wicked, the capitalists.
Your hand pains you
taking handouts.
It is not so with the just,
the contemplative,
the lovers.
How much for the Holy Spirit
they plea,
and it is given.
See it in their eyes.
They gain never for themselves.
The heat is rising,
the fires the wicked stoke,
keeping themselves warm,
they will burn
like the trees they've uprooted.

(Malachi 3:12-20, Psalm 1, Luke 11:5-13)

ten::ten

Teach us how to pray
beyond ourselves,
to You,
God of love,
righteousness,
patience,
grace,
truth,
justice,
peace,
hope,
all goodness.
Let us not run,
or wail out of selfishness,
but to pray just prayers,
not "just" prayers,
but prayers we learn
and take into our hearts,
transforming,
uncomfortable,
unnatural,
creative.
In the words
and silence,
the Kingdom transcend,
Your will is done,
forgiveness,
and evil overcome.

(Jonah 4:1-11, Psalm 86, Luke 11:1-4)

Thoughts

Burdened by many working thoughts,
the anxieties of communities of thought
conversing and arguing, questioning,
wondering if anything is ever said.

Nearly ready to give up on words,
their inability to rehearse.

You, thoughts, working so hard,
settle yourselves; sit a while.

Forgive yourselves of confusion,
things you will never know.

Flesh yourselves out in silence,
and be at peace through touch.

(Jonah 3:1-10, Psalm 130, Luke 10:38-42)

ten::eight

(a homily)

When I'm found out, when I'm caught in the middle of saying some questionable things, for instance, my throat instantaneously becomes parched. It's as if my pride absorbs all of the moisture in my mouth. "Did I really say that? Really?" And then, like Jonah, the turbulent sea seems inviting. Like the scholar of the Law, a trite statement seems appropriate. Anything to escape investigation.

And so we operate. We probably all have our ways of justifying ourselves. The people we see in our scripture readings this morning did. Accountability for our words and introspective contemplation are not virtues expounded upon in the culture's currents. And so we would like to jump ship when we're forced to face ourselves. And, perhaps, this is what we should do, with some guidance of course. I suggest this out of consideration of today's "psalm," which doesn't come out of the psalter but is Jonah's prayer in the belly of the fish. Going overboard, he recognized his folly and cried out to God. Jonah, upon fainting, remembered the Lord. In the end he had to face himself. And God rescued him from his attempt to escape the truth.

So many of our problems arise out of an unwillingness to be truthful. However, we are here, in the midst of this liturgy, among brothers and sisters, to learn to be truthful. We are here because we are aware of our great need to be rescued from the pit. In faith, not out of a desire to escape, we throw ourselves overboard into the sea of grace. In those waters we are refreshed and once back on the shore we are directed to a table with bread to nourish us and wine to wet our mouths once parched by a fear of ourselves. But the bread and the wine renew us. They bring us into union with God and with each other. And we are made to go out in the likeness of Christ in the merciful fellowship of the Holy Spirit to love God and to love our neighbor.

(Jonah 1:1-2:1-12, 11, Jonah 2:3-5, 8, Luke 10:25-37)

ten::five(six)seven

Forgive me. This post does not follow my form. I have not been able to write the past few days for a number of reasons, none necessarily being good. It simply hasn't happened. Nonetheless, I have some thoughts:

We need to learn from children.

We should be graceful and merciful before we make judgments.

Augustine of Hippo began the demise of practical theology in the West. We still feel his sting today. But, perhaps, he was a man of his time. (Note my observation above.)

Assuming makes an ass out of you and me. Especially me.

I need to learn how to open up more directly.

Questions need to be asked. And not out of obligation. They flow from genuine concern and desire to know. In short, questions are formed out of love.

It is OK to experience a wide range of emotions. Eventually, though, they should balance.

I can't figure everything out on my own.

Black magic women exist. Don't ignore them, but don't let them destroy you. (I suppose black magic men exist, too. I hope I'm not one.)

Repent.

Be confused and still love. End with love.

ten::four

When I wear sandals
my feet become dirty.
The soul becomes darkened.
I usually don't go to places
expecting some reception;
what is my presence?
Or do I?
I have expectation,
assumptions,
you can see them accumulate
on my soul.
Are they good?
Or must I brush them off.
There is no hiding
I have something to say.
Must I say it?
I need new words,
a new sending.
The ground I tread,
my face to it,
there you should find me.
In the hearing of the Word,
there you should find me.
And all should be received
with openness and sweet drink,
a table or couch
and lively conversation.
Sandals can be left at the door
or left on feet,
the dirt now with new meaning.

(Nehemiah 8:1-4a, 5-6, 7b-12, Psalm 19, Luke10:1-12)

ten::three

I think of the place of my heart.
Can I remember it?
Can I hum its tunes?
Once the song begins
it can never stop.
It must be sung with abandon,
sung with sadness and joy,
an all encompassing chorus.
Sorrow leads to joy.
Humility to fullness.
Plead to let yourself free.
To follow.
To go to that place,
the place of singing.
It will take time to learn,
hardship, pain,
but joy.

(Nehemiah 2:1-8, Psalm 137, Luke 9:57-62)

ten::two

Humble, child, listen.
Love you have,
loved you are,
all you need.
Impress, then, not
yourself unto anyone,
unto the world.
God's with you.
They will come.
You will listen.
Humble, child, listen.

(Zechariah 8:20-23, Psalm 87, Matthew 18:1-5, 10)

ten::one

(a homily)

Disciples can be stupid sometimes. So quickly we can go off in directions never intended for us. Seeking our own place, our own desires, our own merits, we forget our humble call to be the least. And so a child needs to be placed in our midst. "Here, O wise ones, is the greatest in the kingdom, the one who rely on others for all things, relies on grace to receive provisions."

We are so forgetful. As such, God has put people among us with better memories, thoughts of the heavenly city where justice and peace and love reside. God is taking us there. God is even asking us to be builders, giving us the gift of the Holy Spirit. God hears us when we groan in recognition of our stupidity, our sin, our forgetfulness and uncanny ability to think more highly of ourselves than we ough. Too easily we are captives, exiles from our very selves, the people we are meant to be.

So, we find ourselves here. A table is set before us, a table of remembrance. Stupid as we may be, we may yet be found with the mind of Christ, a mind driven by humility and other-centeredness. At this table, in the work done here, we become the body of Christ, a presence of God's grace in the world. May we approach the table with humble memories and thoughts of a heavenly residence, a place where God's will is done on earth as in heaven, where we forgive and are forgiven, where we are no longer anxious but at peace with ourselves and one another, able, therefore, to welcome the child and the stranger as beautiful sings of God's presence among us. With this renewed thought process let us go forth to work, to listen, to the call of God, to be a prayerful presence in the world.

(Zechariah 8:1-8, Psalm 102, Luke 9:46-50)