Category Archives: Biblical Reflection

Listen, Speak, Move

Readings: Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Isaiah 30:19-26; Acts 13:16-25

When I recently opened my Bible to reflect on these readings, I noticed that, in the past, I had made several annotations.  I had personalized some phrases because they spoke directly to me. I will share these notes, paraphrases, and my current understanding of them.  Where I use my name, I invite you to insert your own.

Listen, Ann.  Here I am reminded that I need to listen to God in prayer but also listen to others who may have an important word for me, just as the people of Antioch listened to Paul and Mary listened to the angel. (Acts 13:16)

‘I will be gracious to you, Ann, when you cry out. As soon as I hear you, I will answer you. I will give you the bread that you need, Ann, and the water for which you thirst.’ (Isaiah 30:19-20).  God expects a dialogue with me, a relationship.  As well as listening, I must speak my needs and desires.  I must trust that God will give me what I need perhaps not what I want.  I know I am free to debate with God if I need to!  Again, Mary is one model for this.

‘I have found Ann, a woman after my own heart; she will carry out my every wish.’ (Acts 13:22).

Wow.  This idea is humbling and can sometimes feel like a burden.  These words seem less burdensome when paired with the words of (Isaiah 31:21) – ‘A voice shall sound behind you, Ann: This is the way, walk in it.‘  I must move forward with confidence that God will move with me as God has always walked with me in the past, seen or unseen. 

Listen, speak, move.  The cycle continues. 

Come, Lord Jesus. In this Advent season, help me to listen to the words You speak directly to me in scripture and through others; help me speak to You in an ongoing relationship; help me to follow Your lead in my life, to say yes as Mary did.  I desire to hear your challenging words. I also desire to hear and believe Your words of gratitude and affection for me.

Offered by Ann Fowler, spiritual director, leader, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Rowhouse, (2018-2019), Colin Fredrickson, artist]

Praying for the Powerful

Readings: Psalm 72:1-6, 18-19; Isaiah 4:2-6; Acts 1:12-17, 21-26

Give the king your justice, O God, and your righteousness to a king’s son. May he judge your people with righteousness, and your poor with justice. May the mountains yield prosperity for all people, and the hills, in righteousness. May he defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the needy, and crush the oppressor. May he live while the sun endures, and as long as the moon, throughout all generations. May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the earth.

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, who alone does wondrous things. Blessed be his glorious name forever; may his glory fill the whole earth. [Psalm 72:1-6, 18-19, NRSV]

Every Sunday at Christ Church Parish, prayers are said for those who govern – the current president, congressional representatives, local board members, etc. Some people do not like this part of the liturgy, especially if they don’t support the politicians currently filling those positions. They feel that praying for someone is a show of approval – a pat on the back dressed up for church.

Every Sunday,  I offer those in power to God in prayer. This isn’t a sign of my approval, but a recognition of the difficulties power brings to those who wield it. Political power changes people, and rarely for the better. It takes a strong will, an open mind, and a loving spirit to use power for the benefit of the poor, especially when they are the ones least able to offer anything tangible in return.

God bless them and keep them. May wisdom guide them and compassion fill them. When they are tempted to abuse their power, may God bring them safely home. Amen.

May I remember that I might not do any better if I were in their shoes…

Guide me, Lord, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Rowhouse, 2018-2019, by Colin Fredrickson]

Swept Away

Readings: Psalm 124; Isaiah 54:1-10; Matthew 24:23-35

If it had not been for the Lord who was on our side – let Israel now say-

if it had not been for the Lord who was on our side, when our enemies attacked us, then they would have swallowed us up alive, when their anger was kindled against us;

then the flood would have swept us away, the torrent would have gone over us; then over us would have gone the raging waters.

Blessed be the Lord, who has not given us as prey to their teeth.

We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we have escaped.

Our help is in the Lord, who made heaven and earth. 

Psalm 124, NRSV

Anger, whether our own or directed at us, can knock us off our feet with its strength and sheer breadth. It is a torrential emotion, making enemies of those who release it and those who find themselves standing downstream from it. Left unchecked, it floods our lives with destruction. In its wake, we often feel like we only have two choices: drown or send our own tidal wave of anger back. Either way, the result is devastating.

But that’s a false choice, isn’t it? There is a third way. When we remember that the one who made heaven and earth holds us fast, we remember that no flood of anger can sweep us out of God’s loving embrace. Our spirits are safe. We don’t have to be overwhelmed, and we don’t have to send our own flash flood of anger to inflict damage on those who would hurt us. We can stop the flood of destruction simply by standing fast.

Even better: we can have compassion for the ones who destroy their own inner lives just as surely as they attempt to destroy us. By the grace of God, we may even be able to retaliate with peace and love instead of hurt and anger. It may take some time and patience to withhold our anger, but isn’t the possibility of stopping the raging waters worth the effort?

Lord, hold me fast as I walk home to Bethlehem. Amen.

[Rowhouse by Colin Fredrickson]

The Break

Readings: Psalm 124; Genesis 9:1-17; Hebrews 11:32-40

If it had not been for the Lord who was on our side – let Israel now say-

if it had not been for the Lord who was on our side, when our enemies attacked us, then they would have swallowed us up alive,

when their anger was kindled against us; then the flood would have swept us away,

the torrent would have gone over us;

then over us would have gone the raging waters.

Blessed be the Lord, who has not given us as prey to their teeth.

We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we have escaped.

Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

Psalm 124, NRSV

[Reposted from 2016.]

Art offered by Riley Anderson, artist, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Rowhouse, by Colin Fredrickson]

Truth in Two Lines

Readings: Psalm 124; Genesis 8:1-19; Romans 6:1-11

If the Lord had not been on our side, *

let Israel now say;

If the Lord had not been on our side, *

when enemies rose up against us;

Then would they have swallowed us up alive *

in their fierce anger toward us;

Then would the waters have overwhelmed us *

and the torrent gone over us;

Then would the raging waters *

have gone right over us.

Blessed be the Lord! *

he has not given us over to be a prey for their teeth.

We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowler; *

the snare is broken, and we have escaped.

Our help is in the Name of the Lord, *

the maker of heaven and earth. [Psalm 124, NRSV]

Those of you who love the office of Compline as I do will recognize verse 8 of Psalm 124 in the opening versicle and response;

Officiant: Our help is in the Name of the Lord;

People: The maker of heaven and earth.

It’s all right there, isn’t it? In the liturgy designed by John Calvin for use in his churches at Strasburg and Geneva, the services began with this versicle and response. Calvin chose it because he understood that in these two brief lines, the truth about the gathered community is summed up perhaps better than any one sentence could possibly do. (1)

The Psalm itself is broken into three parts: a recollection of God’s faithful deliverance in the past, the praise of the people for that deliverance, and a corporate declaration of trust. There is only one way a Psalm like this gets written, and that is as a reflection of a journey with God over time, lots of time. And that is the beauty of it for us. Through the toils and tests of our lives and the life of our community we see only a speck, an infinitesimal sample of what the Almighty knows and has seen. Yet we can close our eyes at the end of a long day, before we go off to the unknown world of sleep and in that moment claim words of truth that only an eternal perspective can fully grasp. It’s all right there, isn’t it? The content of our faith and our lives is right there in these simple words of trust. May they be your guiding light during this beautiful, dark season of Advent.

(1 James L. Mays, InterpretationPsalms, John Knox Press, Louisville, KY, 1994, p. 397)

Offered by Dave Fredrickson, spiritual director and pastor, walking home to Bethlehem.

[Rowhouse, 2018-2019, by Colin Fredrickson]

Walk in the Light

Daily Readings: Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24: 36-44

In the days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all nations shall stream to it.

Many peoples shall come and say, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.”

For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. He shall judged between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.

O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!

Isaiah 2:1-5, NRSV

The Lord’s house may crown the highest mountain in holy light, but the hills that surround it are real – lesser realities and smaller aspirations that diminish and darken human existence. That just may be the point. Isaiah’s vision of peace among peoples isn’t a dream of perfection standing alone: it’s reached by people walking toward God’s house from the imperfect, hilly places in which all of humanity lives.

Darkness and light suffuse the path we walk. Our feet take us through shadowy hills on the way to the high place where all we see before us is God’s light. We won’t get there unless we leave the hills behind, walking in trust when the shadows darken our way and rejoicing in every glimpse of light that draws us on.

Take heart; we don’t walk alone along an unknown path. We are walking home together, beloved children of God, on the road Isaiah and so many others walked long ago.

Guide my feet, O God, on the long road home to Bethlehem. Amen.

[Rowhouse, by Colin Fredrickson]

For the sake of the house of the Lord our God…

Readings: Psalm 122; Genesis 6:11-22; Matthew 24:1-22

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord!” Our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem…

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: “May they prosper who love you. Peace be within your walls, and security within your towers.”

For the sake of my relatives and friends I will say, “Peace be within you.” For the sake of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek your good.  [Psalm 122:1-2, 6-9, NRSV]

Jerusalem hasn’t been a city of peace for much of its history. Even now, it sees more than its share of violence – some of it religiously motivated. It is a sacred city to all the Abrahamic faiths – Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. Each of these faiths is a close relative of the others, but followers of those faiths have attacked one another in the name of the God they all share.

This psalm gets me to wondering: what would happen if everyone whose faith claimed Jerusalem wished each other well? What would the world be like if, for the sake of the house of the Lord our God, we sought the good for all of Abraham’s children?

Can we have enough trust in God to bless Jerusalem’s children of other faiths? Can we say to everyone, peace be within your walls?Human frailty may prevent us from offering such a radical blessing on our own behalf, but perhaps, just perhaps, for the sake of the house of the Lord our God, we might find the strength to attempt it.

Lord Jesus, come to my home. Amen.

[Rowhouse by Colin Fredrickson]

Faith

Readings: Psalm 122; Genesis 6:1-10, Hebrews 11:1-7

11 Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible. By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain’s. Through this he received approval as righteous, God himself giving approval to his gifts; he died, but through his faith he still speaks. By faith Enoch was taken so that he did not experience death; and “he was not found, because God had taken him.” For it was attested before he was taken away that “he had pleased God.” And without faith it is impossible to please God, for whoever would approach him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him. By faith Noah, warned by God about events as yet unseen, respected the warning and built an ark to save his household; by this he condemned the world and became an heir to the righteousness that is in accordance with faith. Hebrews 11:1-7

Faith. It’s a strange word, really. More often than not it gets tossed around without much thought being given to its meaning. On any given day we might be urged to have faith in some product that will make us look younger, faith that our dreams will be realized or even faith that the nerdy techie will work wonders on our virus-ridden computer so that it will begin to function properly again. Even talking about faith in God is open to all sorts of possibilities. What does it really mean to have faith in God? Is it belief in a particular doctrine? Is it confidence that if you live the right kind of life you will go to heaven when you die? What is it about God that we are to have faith in?

One of my all-time favorite songs asks if we have faith in God above, implying that the Bible tells us so. It goes on, claiming that the Father, Son and Holy Ghost all caught the last train for the coast. Even though I like this song, I’m not big on its theology. A “God above” is to me a distant and aloof God. A God that would catch any train to get out of town is in my way of thinking a God that is willing to abandon us. And yet, there are times God does seem distant and aloof; there are times we feel abandoned by God.

Advent offers a different perspective and one I believe is a genuine source of faith. It’s not about distance and abandonment; it’s about presence and incarnation. It’s about a God who is here with us, at work in us and among us. A God whose one great desire is to redeem not just us, but all creation—to make it all good as it is intended to be. It’s about a God who is doing all that right now and every day of our lives, even when we feel God is distant and we have been abandoned. Advent is about incarnation. Incarnation is about an ever-present God, who actually became one of us. And this passage reminds us that all we need to be about is seeking this God—not finding, not obeying, not believing, not even feeling good about our relationship with this God, just seeking.

I pray this Advent will be a time of seeking for me and for you.

Offered by Jeff Jones, pastor, writer, traveler walking home to Bethlehem.

[Don McLean, Classics, American Pie (new version), Freeman, Burgess, and Butler, producers, 1992. Purchased from Amazon Video]

[Rowhouse, 2018-2019Colin Fredrickson, Artist]

 

Instead

 [Photograph by Jared Fredrickson]

Alice Atkins planted hostas, foxglove, and lily-of-the-valley on the two-tiered banking that marks the edge of the back yard. In her last years (and the year between her death and our buying the house), Alice couldn’t tend to the beds; ivy and bittersweet covered everything. It took hours and a lot of hard work to clear the banking of the invasive plants a few weeks after we moved in – Fall of 2002. The work brought a beautiful gift in the Spring: all the plants that had been dormant came back, and myrtle grew to cover the thin, poor soil that could not sustain anything else.

Since that Spring, I have been the second caretaker of this garden, cutting back the choking ivy and thorny bittersweet to give what was lovingly planted a good place to grow. Each year, I say a prayer of thanks to God for the faithful return of perennials, and for Alice’s devotion to planting them and keeping them in the first place. When my time here is over, I hope someone else will become caretaker #3.

I didn’t appreciate the Bible’s garden metaphors until I started tending garden beds myself. Now, it’s a truth that resonates in my bones: when I tend to the life God has given to my care, a beautiful and holy life thrives. When I don’t, I get buried in thorns and choking vines instead. My inner life or my outer one – it applies equally.

Instead of thorns shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off. [Isaiah 55:13-14, NRSV]

Joyful Leaving, Peaceful Return

For you shall go out in joy, and return in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. [Isaiah 55, NRSV]

This morning, I’m sitting at Kiskadee Coffee, gazing out on the cars lining a rain soaked sidewalk. The wind is blowing the limbs and leaves of the two trees across the street. A jogger just zipped by Preferred Properties, headed toward Water Street; a local guy with a Red Sox cap brought a coffee to his friend just outside my window. With people going about their work day, it’s just an average Thursday morning in Plymouth, Massachusetts. Isn’t it?

As I read Isaiah’s words, I wonder how many of the people I can see left their homes with a sense of joy this morning. How many will return home in peace – or find peace when they enter their own doors? My mother used to say that children could handle pretty much any of the world’s challenges if their home was stable and loving. It didn’t have to be perfect, but it had to be a place where everyone felt welcomed and accepted as is.

Perhaps that’s what Isaiah is getting at: the fruition of God’s creation is a cosmic home where everyone belongs. To be at home in the world, no matter where in the world you are, is heavenly. You can leave every morning, finding joy in the day’s adventures; you can return every evening to a peace that refreshes the body, mind, and spirit. It doesn’t have to be perfect or easy – and it won’t be in this lifetime – to be holy.

On a day like today, rainy and windblown, I can almost hear the hills at my back singing for joy, and see in the movements of the still-leafed branches the trees applauding…

[For more on this series, click Isaiah 55 above]