by John Wilkinson, Pastor
As Jesus has been teaching, preaching, performing miracles, the crowds are growing. In Matthew 14:22-33, he walked on the water, and Peter didn’t. But note the setting. He had just fed the crowd with loaves and fishes. He needs to get away. He dismisses the crowds. So perhaps our Lenten water can be the lake on which Jesus walked and Peter didn’t. But more so, perhaps it can be the lake shore where we gather to meet Jesus. That thin place between him and us, and our hopes and dreams and desires and fears—our expectations, and how he meets them.
Perhaps it is the same question, now some 2000 years old. Who is he? Who are we? What happens when we encounter Jesus at that lakeshore? How are our expectations of him, and us, met, exceeded, transformed?
So let’s ask the question one more time, as we prepare to meet him, at the lakeshore, at the foot of the cross, at the empty tomb. What are our expectations—of him, and us? Whatever they are, I could make the case that he does not meet them. Rather, he exceeds them, and better than that, he transforms them. We don’t necessarily get the messiah we want, or expect. But we get the one that we—and the world, and the church—need. And that is good news indeed.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Monday, March 29
by Jane Carden
This Lenten season may your thirst be quenched with the Living Water, Jesus Christ. May you drink deeply from His well, be filled to overflowing with His loving Spirit, may your faith be refreshed and may you find yourself saying “Ahhh!” Glory be to God.
Loving God, as we continue our journey through Lent, may our thirst be quenched through the living water. Amen.
“On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” John 7:37-38My dad was a remarkable man. He was a fun-loving, forth-right, family man. He was a veteran of WWII, Korea, and Viet Nam. He loved the University of Delaware Blue Hens, the Baltimore Orioles, and the Golden Bear, Jack Nicklaus. And he loved to eat… the simple foods… ice cream, grape nuts cereal, and hotdogs or as my dad called them, tube steaks. Towards the end of his life, he found joy in the little things… petting a dog, singing along with Mitch, and his ice, oh how he loved his ice! During those last weeks, I was blessed to spend hours by his bedside reading, reminiscing and sharing glass after glass of crushed ice with him. I took joy in helping him as he took pleasure in the coldness, the crunching, and the refreshing feel it left him with. And those ice snacks always ended the same way, with a duet of “Ahhh.”
This Lenten season may your thirst be quenched with the Living Water, Jesus Christ. May you drink deeply from His well, be filled to overflowing with His loving Spirit, may your faith be refreshed and may you find yourself saying “Ahhh!” Glory be to God.
Loving God, as we continue our journey through Lent, may our thirst be quenched through the living water. Amen.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Palm Sunday, March 28
Prayer of Water
by Joan Brown, osf, Archdiocese of Santa Fe
we pray in thankfulness for her life sustaining generosity.
Oh, water, in your mysterious beauty you cause the desert to bloom.
One tiny drop spread collected with thousands of drops
waters seeds and future harvests to feed us and all creatures.
One tiny drop multiplied quenches our burning thirst.
Our bodies, like the body of earth, are over 75% water.
We are a water people.
We are a water planet.
Oh compassionate God, Creator who breathed over the waters we seek forgiveness for our mindless use of water. We beg for wisdom to know how to conserve and cherish water, We ask healing for the ways that we disrespect and contaminate our sister. In this drought time we wait and watch for the gift of rain upon earth. We watch and wait for the rain of grace into our souls. Come free us from hatred, greed, fear, and our lack of love for your gifts upon earth. Transform us into living streams of water flowing green and moist with life, hope and love for earth and all peoples. We pray this prayer in the name of God who is gracious Creator, Jesus who is Eternal Word, and Spirit who is Wellspring of Wisdom.
by Joan Brown, osf, Archdiocese of Santa Fe
"Be praised my God for Sister Water who is useful, humble, precious and pure."As St. Francis prayed in great gratitude for Sister Water,
we pray in thankfulness for her life sustaining generosity.
Oh, water, in your mysterious beauty you cause the desert to bloom.
One tiny drop spread collected with thousands of drops
waters seeds and future harvests to feed us and all creatures.
One tiny drop multiplied quenches our burning thirst.
Our bodies, like the body of earth, are over 75% water.
We are a water people.
We are a water planet.
Oh compassionate God, Creator who breathed over the waters we seek forgiveness for our mindless use of water. We beg for wisdom to know how to conserve and cherish water, We ask healing for the ways that we disrespect and contaminate our sister. In this drought time we wait and watch for the gift of rain upon earth. We watch and wait for the rain of grace into our souls. Come free us from hatred, greed, fear, and our lack of love for your gifts upon earth. Transform us into living streams of water flowing green and moist with life, hope and love for earth and all peoples. We pray this prayer in the name of God who is gracious Creator, Jesus who is Eternal Word, and Spirit who is Wellspring of Wisdom.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Thursday, March 25
From “In His Hands Are the Depths” by Daniel G Deffenbaugh
Recently I discovered the work of an artist whose depictions of events from the Hebrew Bible and New Testament speak to me in a new and challenging way… Often He Qi uses very vibrant primary colors to give his paintings the impression of complex movement and life, but in some instances he relies on the more elemental shades of green, yellow, and umber, allowing only an incidental tone of red to nuance his canvas, as is evident in this scene. Here Jesus is seated at Jacob’s well and a young woman is standing before him; their red mouths accentuate the improbable dialogue that is about to take place.An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Martha Langford. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Tuesday, March 23
by John Wilkinson, Pastor
During Lent, the Junior Choir has been offering a 200-year old plus paraphrase of the 23rd Psalm as a worship introit, by perhaps the greatest of hymn writers, Isaac Watts. It is in my top-five of all time favorite hymns, which I actually have. The first stanza is printed on this morning’s bulletin cover: “My shepherd will supply my needs, Jehovah is his name. In pastures fresh me makes me feed beside the living stream. He brings my wandering spirit back when I forsake his ways. And lead’s me of his mercy’s sake in paths of truth and grace.” I learned that hymn as a choir anthem in high school and it has stuck with me, sung at the baptisms of each of our children.
My shepherd will supply my need. We believe that. The theologians call it “providence.” It is one of those theologically jargon-y words that makes religion less accessible in the real world. But it is not that jargon-y. “Providence” and “provide” are related—to see ahead, to know what’s coming, to meet needs. Providence implies a provider who provides—like a health care provider, to use the phrase of the day, who can see ahead of a patient's need and offer the right response.
Isaac Watts concluded his lovely paraphrase of Psalm 23 this way: “The sure provision of my God attend me all my days. O may Thy house be my abode and all my work be praise. There would I fined a settled rest while others go and come. No more a stranger or a guest, but like a child at home.” May that be our benediction—may God’s sure provision attend us always, and the people we love, and the world God created and called good.
During Lent, the Junior Choir has been offering a 200-year old plus paraphrase of the 23rd Psalm as a worship introit, by perhaps the greatest of hymn writers, Isaac Watts. It is in my top-five of all time favorite hymns, which I actually have. The first stanza is printed on this morning’s bulletin cover: “My shepherd will supply my needs, Jehovah is his name. In pastures fresh me makes me feed beside the living stream. He brings my wandering spirit back when I forsake his ways. And lead’s me of his mercy’s sake in paths of truth and grace.” I learned that hymn as a choir anthem in high school and it has stuck with me, sung at the baptisms of each of our children.
My shepherd will supply my need. We believe that. The theologians call it “providence.” It is one of those theologically jargon-y words that makes religion less accessible in the real world. But it is not that jargon-y. “Providence” and “provide” are related—to see ahead, to know what’s coming, to meet needs. Providence implies a provider who provides—like a health care provider, to use the phrase of the day, who can see ahead of a patient's need and offer the right response.
Isaac Watts concluded his lovely paraphrase of Psalm 23 this way: “The sure provision of my God attend me all my days. O may Thy house be my abode and all my work be praise. There would I fined a settled rest while others go and come. No more a stranger or a guest, but like a child at home.” May that be our benediction—may God’s sure provision attend us always, and the people we love, and the world God created and called good.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Monday, March 22
by Martha Langford
In the time of Jesus, two nearby caves were turned into baths dedicated to the Greek god Asclepius as a place of healing. And the healing properties of the water were known to the Jewish people of the day. They knew it as a place where God’s angels would stir the waters and make of them a healing fountain.
The invalid of this passage has lain by the waters for thirty-eight years, waiting for his opportunity to be first into the waters as they stirred; a long wait to receive God’s healing mercy. The days and weeks and years were filled—I am sure—with at least a few “almosts” and “might-have-beens.” But, there he lay, alone and unable to make his own way into the full measure of God’s grace as the first to enter the pool.
But this day, a different kind of stirring was happening in Jerusalem. It was festival time and crowds were on the move into the city; Jesus among them. Heading toward the Sheep Gate, Jesus sees the man—knows his plight—and asks the simple question, “Do you want to be made well?”
After tendering his excuses at his own inability to get himself well, he looks to Jesus who—with a full measure of God’s grace and mercy—makes the man whole once again.
First! He tried for thirty-eight years to be first! It was a competition and the gold medal was God’s grace and mercy. I wonder how often we treat God’s grace as if it was a prize that one might earn. What a burden to carry. I wonder how we would respond, if we were asked to lay such a burden down—to find grace and wholeness through the one who claims us and whose name we bear. I wonder how long it would take for us to find life in Christ’s question, “Do you want to be made well?”
Dear God, through your son Jesus Christ, you share the gift of grace and mercy and wholeness and life. Grant us the courage to accept the gift, to be made whole and wholly yours. AMEN.
Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be made well?’ The sick man answered him, ‘Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Stand up, take your mat and walk.’ At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk. JOHN 5:2-9The photo comes from a trip to Jerusalem; we had traveled to its northeast quadrant to visit St. Anne’s Church. Once outside, we saw it... a place where high walls crowd verdant ruins that hold at their center a pool of water. Closer examination confirmed what archeologists had already discovered; the pool at St. Anne’s has five porticoes making it this pool—the pool of Beth-zatha better known as the pool of Bethesda.
In the time of Jesus, two nearby caves were turned into baths dedicated to the Greek god Asclepius as a place of healing. And the healing properties of the water were known to the Jewish people of the day. They knew it as a place where God’s angels would stir the waters and make of them a healing fountain.
The invalid of this passage has lain by the waters for thirty-eight years, waiting for his opportunity to be first into the waters as they stirred; a long wait to receive God’s healing mercy. The days and weeks and years were filled—I am sure—with at least a few “almosts” and “might-have-beens.” But, there he lay, alone and unable to make his own way into the full measure of God’s grace as the first to enter the pool.
But this day, a different kind of stirring was happening in Jerusalem. It was festival time and crowds were on the move into the city; Jesus among them. Heading toward the Sheep Gate, Jesus sees the man—knows his plight—and asks the simple question, “Do you want to be made well?”
After tendering his excuses at his own inability to get himself well, he looks to Jesus who—with a full measure of God’s grace and mercy—makes the man whole once again.
First! He tried for thirty-eight years to be first! It was a competition and the gold medal was God’s grace and mercy. I wonder how often we treat God’s grace as if it was a prize that one might earn. What a burden to carry. I wonder how we would respond, if we were asked to lay such a burden down—to find grace and wholeness through the one who claims us and whose name we bear. I wonder how long it would take for us to find life in Christ’s question, “Do you want to be made well?”
Dear God, through your son Jesus Christ, you share the gift of grace and mercy and wholeness and life. Grant us the courage to accept the gift, to be made whole and wholly yours. AMEN.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Thursday, March 18
From “Water—A Gift of Life and a Human Right” by Geoff Davis
It is therefore a deeply religious and ethical issue and transgresses all standards of justice when people—and all of the created order—are denied water. Injustice is inflicted, not only against God’s creation, but against the creator. A sound ethical and theological understanding regarding water is essential.An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Rod Frohman. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Wednesday, March 17
by Mary Jane Link
Someone recently sent me this poem— The author is a young Canadian man, Mike Cumberland...
Someone recently sent me this poem— The author is a young Canadian man, Mike Cumberland...
A Canadian New YearGracious God, give us comfort as we remember that you bear our burdens. Amen.
At times you will feel the weight of the thwart on your shoulders—
There will be many miles of portages.
Remember, there will be a time to remove your canoe—
Your burdens will be swept away by the river's currents.
And—when you step into the river it will always be a different river—
And you—my friend—will always be a different you.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Monday, March 15
by Peter DuBois
Growing up as a Methodist, one of the hymns prominent in my memory (some might say it’s the Methodist Anthem) is “O for a thousand tongues to sing,” written by Charles Wesley in 1739. And I think Wesley must have been inspired by this healing text from Mark, which is the gospel text in today’s lectionary. Among its eighteen verses (yes, 18!) are a catalog of all those whose sins are forgiven through Christ, and who then should proclaim His glory enthusiastically. One stanza, generally omitted today over sensitivities to the physically challenged, grows directly from this passage: “Hear him, ye deaf, his praise, ye dumb, your loosened tongues employ; ye blind, behold your Savior come, and leap, ye lame, for joy.” I believe the metaphor, however, extends way beyond the literal interpretation of the text to include shaking off anything that impedes our ability to praise God and Jesus.
Creator God, help us to recognize the wonderful gift of your Son, and to rid ourselves of any impediment to fully praising you, as if we had a thousand tongues to sing. Amen.
“They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha,’ that is ‘Be opened.’ And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it.” – Mark 7: 32, 34-36
Growing up as a Methodist, one of the hymns prominent in my memory (some might say it’s the Methodist Anthem) is “O for a thousand tongues to sing,” written by Charles Wesley in 1739. And I think Wesley must have been inspired by this healing text from Mark, which is the gospel text in today’s lectionary. Among its eighteen verses (yes, 18!) are a catalog of all those whose sins are forgiven through Christ, and who then should proclaim His glory enthusiastically. One stanza, generally omitted today over sensitivities to the physically challenged, grows directly from this passage: “Hear him, ye deaf, his praise, ye dumb, your loosened tongues employ; ye blind, behold your Savior come, and leap, ye lame, for joy.” I believe the metaphor, however, extends way beyond the literal interpretation of the text to include shaking off anything that impedes our ability to praise God and Jesus.
Creator God, help us to recognize the wonderful gift of your Son, and to rid ourselves of any impediment to fully praising you, as if we had a thousand tongues to sing. Amen.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Friday, March 12
by Amy Stratton-Smith
The Greek word from which we get “baptize” means “to dip so as to change” and was a common technical term in Jesus’ day. It was an every day working word, not an ethereal, holy, or abstract concept. Textile workers made their living “baptizing” fabrics in dye to infuse a piece of cloth with bright colors. Blacksmiths “baptized” hot metal in water to make it stronger. Warriors “baptized” the tips of their arrows in poison to make them more lethally effective. Peasants “baptized” hard, stale bread in their soup or stew to soften it enough to avoid breaking their teeth on it. In the same way housewives “baptized” their families’ dirty laundry in the river to make it clean, John the Baptist dipped his followers, and even Jesus, in the Jordan River to cleanse them of guilt for their sins.
The people were all agog, wondering about John, whether perhaps he was the Messiah, but he spoke out and said to them all: "I baptize you with water; but there is one coming who is mightier than I am. I am not worthy to unfasten the straps of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire" (Luke 3:15-16).
I have been wondering what it means to be baptized with the Holy Spirit and with fire. What does that look like? How would you know if you were dipped, or immersed in the Holy Spirit and fire so as to remain yourself but become substantially different? Still a piece of cloth, but with a brighter color? Still a piece of metal, but much stronger, and with your atomic structure rearranged? Still an arrow, but more potent? Still a garment, but fresh and clean? Still a chunk of bread, but more appetizing and digestible?
In Paul’s letter to the Galatians 5:22, he suggests that the fruits, or harvest, of the Holy Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness, and self-control. (Galatians 5:22)
What brightens your spirit so that you bring joy to those around you? What gives you courage to stand up for someone weaker? What makes you more effective acting on behalf of someone needing help? What enables you to give up a grudge and embrace the possibility of a new relationship with an old adversary? What softens your hard edges, making you more compassionate and accessible to others?
When have you been patient where you might have been irritable? Open and welcoming when you might have been reserved and aloof? Confident and bold when you might have been timid? Offering kind words instead of the snappy come-back that first flashed through your mind? Calm and clear-thinking in the midst of a crisis, enabling you to be much more useful than you could have imagined?
Answers to questions like these are the footprints of the Holy Spirit making tracks across our lives. And when we look closely enough, they show up in the most outrageously ordinary and amazingly unexpected places.
Dear God, open our hearts to receive this baptism of Holy Spirit and fire, so that we may be immersed in it and come out changed: brighter, stronger, cleaner, and more nourishing, to the glory of God. Amen.
The Greek word from which we get “baptize” means “to dip so as to change” and was a common technical term in Jesus’ day. It was an every day working word, not an ethereal, holy, or abstract concept. Textile workers made their living “baptizing” fabrics in dye to infuse a piece of cloth with bright colors. Blacksmiths “baptized” hot metal in water to make it stronger. Warriors “baptized” the tips of their arrows in poison to make them more lethally effective. Peasants “baptized” hard, stale bread in their soup or stew to soften it enough to avoid breaking their teeth on it. In the same way housewives “baptized” their families’ dirty laundry in the river to make it clean, John the Baptist dipped his followers, and even Jesus, in the Jordan River to cleanse them of guilt for their sins.
The people were all agog, wondering about John, whether perhaps he was the Messiah, but he spoke out and said to them all: "I baptize you with water; but there is one coming who is mightier than I am. I am not worthy to unfasten the straps of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire" (Luke 3:15-16).
I have been wondering what it means to be baptized with the Holy Spirit and with fire. What does that look like? How would you know if you were dipped, or immersed in the Holy Spirit and fire so as to remain yourself but become substantially different? Still a piece of cloth, but with a brighter color? Still a piece of metal, but much stronger, and with your atomic structure rearranged? Still an arrow, but more potent? Still a garment, but fresh and clean? Still a chunk of bread, but more appetizing and digestible?
In Paul’s letter to the Galatians 5:22, he suggests that the fruits, or harvest, of the Holy Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness, and self-control. (Galatians 5:22)
What brightens your spirit so that you bring joy to those around you? What gives you courage to stand up for someone weaker? What makes you more effective acting on behalf of someone needing help? What enables you to give up a grudge and embrace the possibility of a new relationship with an old adversary? What softens your hard edges, making you more compassionate and accessible to others?
When have you been patient where you might have been irritable? Open and welcoming when you might have been reserved and aloof? Confident and bold when you might have been timid? Offering kind words instead of the snappy come-back that first flashed through your mind? Calm and clear-thinking in the midst of a crisis, enabling you to be much more useful than you could have imagined?
Answers to questions like these are the footprints of the Holy Spirit making tracks across our lives. And when we look closely enough, they show up in the most outrageously ordinary and amazingly unexpected places.
Dear God, open our hearts to receive this baptism of Holy Spirit and fire, so that we may be immersed in it and come out changed: brighter, stronger, cleaner, and more nourishing, to the glory of God. Amen.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Thursday, March 11
From “Sermon Series: A River Runs Through It” by Thomas A Sweet
The Shorter Catechism has one hundred seven questions and originally was devised by the Westminster divines to educate church members in matters of doctrine and belief. But the Reverend Maclean believed in the encompassing sufficiency of the first question and answer as the key for leading a contented, faithful life, and well-lived life. Glorify God in everything you do and enjoy God. If you are not enjoying God, he would say, you do not know God well enough. Your conception of God is too small or mistaken. When I think of enjoying God, I recall the way Jesus answered the early questions the disciples asked of him by saying, “Come and see!”An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Martha Langford. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Wednesday, March 10
by Kathy Wise
In one scene, one Sunday Mac and his stepson Sonny are baptized in the local church with Rosa Lee, wife and mom, beaming from the church choir. On the way home, Sonny states that he doesn’t feel any different now that he is baptized and stretches up to see himself in the rear-view mirror. “I don’t look any different, do I?” he asks. “Do you feel any different, Mac?” And Mac replies, “Not yet.”
But as the story continues, Mac changes. He reaches out to a youthful country band and helps them become established. He reconciles with his daughter and his former manager. He remains a faithful, loving husband and learns to be an attentive stepfather. He even helps his ex-wife as much as possible when tragedy occurs.
Mac finds an inner calmness and strength to deal with life’s storms. Do we movie-goers believe that all the storms in Mac’s life are over? No. But we have confidence that Mac will be able to handle them.
Oh Lord, help us to open our hearts and allow you to calm the storms in our lives.
Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!"I fully admit that I am an avid movie fan—and have been for quite some time. One movie that I particularly like is Tender Mercies, a character study of a defeated, washed-up country singer-songwriter who finds redemption by the time the movie is over. Robert Duvall won a Best Actor Oscar in 1984 for his performance as Mac Sledge and Horton Foote won the Best Original Screenplay Oscar for his story.
He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.
The men were amazed and asked, "What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!" Matthew 8:23-27
In one scene, one Sunday Mac and his stepson Sonny are baptized in the local church with Rosa Lee, wife and mom, beaming from the church choir. On the way home, Sonny states that he doesn’t feel any different now that he is baptized and stretches up to see himself in the rear-view mirror. “I don’t look any different, do I?” he asks. “Do you feel any different, Mac?” And Mac replies, “Not yet.”
But as the story continues, Mac changes. He reaches out to a youthful country band and helps them become established. He reconciles with his daughter and his former manager. He remains a faithful, loving husband and learns to be an attentive stepfather. He even helps his ex-wife as much as possible when tragedy occurs.
Mac finds an inner calmness and strength to deal with life’s storms. Do we movie-goers believe that all the storms in Mac’s life are over? No. But we have confidence that Mac will be able to handle them.
Oh Lord, help us to open our hearts and allow you to calm the storms in our lives.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Tuesday, March 9
by John Wilkinson
The Third Church annual report, available this week, lists all of our members who have died in the past year. They, along with loved ones we all have lost, constitute the great cloud of witnesses testified to in the book of Hebrews.
Our funeral liturgy includes a prayer adapted from the Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer. It includes these concluding words. “Especially we thank you for your servant _____, whose baptism is complete in death…” Whose baptism is complete in death.
We do not know how we will live. We certainly do not know how we will die. But we know this. In life and in death we belong to God, and baptism, any baptism, every baptism, is not the exchange where that belonging is established, but it is the moment when that belonging is signed and sealed.
So perhaps the water we are considering during Lent can be for us a symbol of baptism. A baptismal font, perhaps, or the river in which Jesus, and millions since, have been baptized.
In Romans, Paul writes that “when we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised…we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with Christ in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”
That is our faith. This is our hope. Remember your baptism, and be grateful.
The Third Church annual report, available this week, lists all of our members who have died in the past year. They, along with loved ones we all have lost, constitute the great cloud of witnesses testified to in the book of Hebrews.
Our funeral liturgy includes a prayer adapted from the Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer. It includes these concluding words. “Especially we thank you for your servant _____, whose baptism is complete in death…” Whose baptism is complete in death.
We do not know how we will live. We certainly do not know how we will die. But we know this. In life and in death we belong to God, and baptism, any baptism, every baptism, is not the exchange where that belonging is established, but it is the moment when that belonging is signed and sealed.
So perhaps the water we are considering during Lent can be for us a symbol of baptism. A baptismal font, perhaps, or the river in which Jesus, and millions since, have been baptized.
In Romans, Paul writes that “when we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised…we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with Christ in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”
That is our faith. This is our hope. Remember your baptism, and be grateful.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Monday, March 8
by Rod Frohman
The rationale is this, "When it comes to spiritual growth, human beings are much like creeping vines and rambling roses. Without support they collapse into a heap on the ground. We need structure in order to give us freedom to grow as we are meant to. What we need is a rule of life. This is a pattern of spiritual disciplines that provide structure and direction for growth."
Marjorie cites several examples of personal rules such as: taking time to pray, read, meditate, advocate, engage in service, exercise, or sacrifice personal desires in order that others might be free. All of these involve choices. Lent can be a time to create a structure on which the fruits of our lives can grow.
Holy God may our own lives be a school for your service for preserving justice and correcting faults. May we not fear a rule of faith for our life but rather find therein freedom and salvation.
For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal. II Corinthians 4:17-18My cousin through marriage is Marjorie Thompson author of Soul Feast. Her book is a good read for Lent. In it she suggests that the way the spiritual life is put together by, "developing a rule of life."
The rationale is this, "When it comes to spiritual growth, human beings are much like creeping vines and rambling roses. Without support they collapse into a heap on the ground. We need structure in order to give us freedom to grow as we are meant to. What we need is a rule of life. This is a pattern of spiritual disciplines that provide structure and direction for growth."
Marjorie cites several examples of personal rules such as: taking time to pray, read, meditate, advocate, engage in service, exercise, or sacrifice personal desires in order that others might be free. All of these involve choices. Lent can be a time to create a structure on which the fruits of our lives can grow.
Holy God may our own lives be a school for your service for preserving justice and correcting faults. May we not fear a rule of faith for our life but rather find therein freedom and salvation.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
Friday, March 5
by Karen Pryor
As I’ve been pondering plans for Third churchers to move out into various locations in the community during our construction period, it occurred to me that our Lenten theme of water is quite relevant. If not tightly contained, water has a way of seeping out, dampening whatever it finds in its path. Sometimes the effect is nourishing; sometimes destructive. I wonder—as we Third Churchers leave our building for other meeting places in the community—what will be our impact on those we encounter in those spaces? Will they notice us? Will they see the Spirit within us? Will we reach out in any way and will they respond? Any chance that the connections we make will be real enough that some may want to return with us to the shelter of our own four walls?
Lord, let us be cognizant that this time away from our usual church spaces may provide opportunities for evangelism that we should not overlook
As I’ve been pondering plans for Third churchers to move out into various locations in the community during our construction period, it occurred to me that our Lenten theme of water is quite relevant. If not tightly contained, water has a way of seeping out, dampening whatever it finds in its path. Sometimes the effect is nourishing; sometimes destructive. I wonder—as we Third Churchers leave our building for other meeting places in the community—what will be our impact on those we encounter in those spaces? Will they notice us? Will they see the Spirit within us? Will we reach out in any way and will they respond? Any chance that the connections we make will be real enough that some may want to return with us to the shelter of our own four walls?
Lord, let us be cognizant that this time away from our usual church spaces may provide opportunities for evangelism that we should not overlook
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Thursday, March 4
From “Social Justice Committee Water Sermon” by Toni Wing, et al
Life originally emerged from water, and water nourishes all living things. You can do without sex, books, movies, cell phones, even food, for quite a long time. But—go waterless for a mere 72 hours, and you’re dead. Water is essential to life. It is life. Without doubt, water is the sacred birthright of every living creature.An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Rod Frohman. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Wednesday, March 3
by Dale Maddock
As a young man, soon out of high school I joined the Navy. After boot camp and Navy photographer’s school, my first assignment was to be part of an aircraft squadron. It certainly seemed to be a long way from the ocean.
Soon enough though, we were deployed for service onto the USS Independence, a mighty ship indeed. Fully 100 feet from the waterline up to the flight deck, and over 1000 feet long—it was quite awesome to me. Once underway, the sight of the ocean was even more spectacular. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but water. No signs of life other than my fellow sailors and the occasional schools of flying fish. Too much water to comprehend.
Our first port of call was Singapore which back then was a less than pristine, orderly urban environment. It was a cacophony of colors, sounds and textures. I most remember seeing up close a sampan . . . just like in the movies. Small, less than 20 feet, it was the home for an entire family of at least six people. There may have been more but I could not tell. I remember thinking how amazing it was that they could spend their lives on such a boat; that they could eat, talk, sleep, and play in a space so small. What a miracle—all on the water of a small river. It seemed incomprehensible that it could be a home.
The second port of call was Hong Kong. This was back in the time of its British ownership. Mainline China. . . close and forbidding. I took a bus tour to the countryside. Along the way, as the guide spoke, we observed tiny spots in the distance on a brown plain. Many, many spots. As we drew nearer, the spots grew larger and eventually resolved into a village of sampans on a sea of mud. Most confusing. The answer to our questions of how these boats came to be so isolated so far inland was that a typhoon had recently blown through and the sampans were carried into the bay by the winds. Then when the winds subsided, so did the water.
The sampans remained, waiting, waiting for the next rise of water to carry them from the mud. I thought then and now, how do they survive, these people of the small boats? I knew from Singapore that the boats actually represent families and that without water they were stuck. Their lives were, and are, dependent on God’s water for life itself. It is a visceral image of God’s grace. I had not imagined a sampan without water to ride upon, or families so dependent on the tide and rains.
I came to see then that my mighty aircraft carrier, home to over 5000 people, was as reliant upon God’s good graces as those small sampans. Water is God’s gift of life. Its abundance makes it easy to take for granted. At least until it is gone. Then life becomes very fragile indeed. It is God’s grace that keeps our boat afloat.
As a young man, soon out of high school I joined the Navy. After boot camp and Navy photographer’s school, my first assignment was to be part of an aircraft squadron. It certainly seemed to be a long way from the ocean.
Soon enough though, we were deployed for service onto the USS Independence, a mighty ship indeed. Fully 100 feet from the waterline up to the flight deck, and over 1000 feet long—it was quite awesome to me. Once underway, the sight of the ocean was even more spectacular. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but water. No signs of life other than my fellow sailors and the occasional schools of flying fish. Too much water to comprehend.
Our first port of call was Singapore which back then was a less than pristine, orderly urban environment. It was a cacophony of colors, sounds and textures. I most remember seeing up close a sampan . . . just like in the movies. Small, less than 20 feet, it was the home for an entire family of at least six people. There may have been more but I could not tell. I remember thinking how amazing it was that they could spend their lives on such a boat; that they could eat, talk, sleep, and play in a space so small. What a miracle—all on the water of a small river. It seemed incomprehensible that it could be a home.
The second port of call was Hong Kong. This was back in the time of its British ownership. Mainline China. . . close and forbidding. I took a bus tour to the countryside. Along the way, as the guide spoke, we observed tiny spots in the distance on a brown plain. Many, many spots. As we drew nearer, the spots grew larger and eventually resolved into a village of sampans on a sea of mud. Most confusing. The answer to our questions of how these boats came to be so isolated so far inland was that a typhoon had recently blown through and the sampans were carried into the bay by the winds. Then when the winds subsided, so did the water.
The sampans remained, waiting, waiting for the next rise of water to carry them from the mud. I thought then and now, how do they survive, these people of the small boats? I knew from Singapore that the boats actually represent families and that without water they were stuck. Their lives were, and are, dependent on God’s water for life itself. It is a visceral image of God’s grace. I had not imagined a sampan without water to ride upon, or families so dependent on the tide and rains.
I came to see then that my mighty aircraft carrier, home to over 5000 people, was as reliant upon God’s good graces as those small sampans. Water is God’s gift of life. Its abundance makes it easy to take for granted. At least until it is gone. Then life becomes very fragile indeed. It is God’s grace that keeps our boat afloat.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Monday, March 1
by Chris Lenti
Loving God, Teach us to live in patience, searching to find the good in every moment, and joyfully giving thanks to you for every day. Amen.
May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from God’s glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father. Colossians 1: 11-12Patience is certainly a virtue we all need in our daily living. There seem to be so many things that we have no control over such as the weather, a returned phone call, the arrival of a bus, getting over an illness, the resolution of a conflict. But patience is really not about waiting until someone does something about the problem. True patience asks us to live the moment to the fullest, to taste the here and now. Sometimes we behave as if the good things we hope for will happen tomorrow, or later and somewhere else. Let us learn to be patient and trust that what we are truly looking for maybe hidden somewhere close by or even right where we are now.
Loving God, Teach us to live in patience, searching to find the good in every moment, and joyfully giving thanks to you for every day. Amen.
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