Category Archives: Biblical Reflection

Darkness, deepening and dazzling

May the darkness of night deepen and dazzle

Not exactly what I think of when I think of the darkness of night. Over the years, it’s been cursing the darkness as a fearful child or as an adult seeing darkness as only the absence of light (an annoyance as I think of all I didn’t get done today). What a different thought to go off to sleep with: that tonight I may be deepened and dazzled. Cotter’s poetic imaging creates for me a new response to the night. He takes the oft used verse from the psalmist, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Ps. 118:24), and makes it into a night made by God. Let us be deepened and dazzled in it. Now I can praise God for the night as well as the day. That’s pretty great! The light of the world still shines through the darkness, deepening and dazzling.

This blessing lacks only one word: Amen.

Offered by Bill Albritton, teacher of the gospel.

Friend and Lover, bless us and keep us; Light of the world, shine on our faces; Transfigured Yeshua, lift us to glory. May the darkness of night deepen and dazzle.
Prayer at Night’s Approaching,

Jim Cotter (Morehouse Publishing, 1998)

Lift us to glory

Transfigured Yeshua, lift us to glory…

(Offered by Bill Albritton, pray-er and child of God)

A few weeks back the Church celebrated the Transfiguration. In the last writing, we pondered the Light of the world. I often think of Peter’s reaction to the event up on that high mountain (most scholars assume Mount Hermon here which reaches  a height of some 9,000 feet—rarefied air for a rarefied event). He so reminds me of me, always feeling that he has to do something or say something even though he has no concept of the appropriateness of his words or actions. Peter wants to memorialize the moment but Jesus must move on. No time to dilly dally—the cross awaits. The Voice in the cloud tells Peter, James and John in that mountain top experience to “listen to him!”— “Peter (me), stop talking about things you know nothing of and listen to Jesus.” If we do this we will catch a glimpse of glory, indeed. Tonight may I take a moment to listen to Transfigured Yeshua, experience the attendant glory of that moment, and fall asleep in his arms, blessed and kept.

Friend and Lover, bless us and keep us; Light of the world, shine on our faces; Transfigured Yeshua, lift us to glory. May the darkness of night deepen and dazzle.

Prayer at Night’s Approaching, Jim Cotter (Morehouse Publishing, 1998)

 

 

What We Hand Down

My sons got their summer reading assignments a few days back; Colin and the rest of the seniors will read The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho, Alan R. Clarke, trans.; New York: HarperCollins, 1993) while Jared and the incoming 8th graders will read The Contender (Robert Lipsyte; New York: Harper Collins, 2003, reissue of the 1967 novel). They’ll have a home on our tilted, currently-being-read bookshelf for the next few weeks. When Colin is done with The Alchemist, it will return to its usual spot until I reread it in another year or so. The fate of Jared’s book is yet to be determined. If he loves it, it will stay; if he couldn’t care one way or the other, it will go to the library. Only what’s really valued remains in our family collection – everything else is released, finding a life in someone else’s hands and heart.

Words are important, holy even. A book, a poem, a saying, a song can change our inner worlds and the outer worlds we call home. The words that transcend their particular time and place earn the title classic, or the adjective masterpiece. Libraries all over the world offer these to their borrowers because in some indescribable way they enrich human life through their beauty and truth. These words that touch the best part of us, they are our verbal inheritance and our linguistic legacy – gifts from the past for our present, handed down from us to the future. Who we were, who we are, who we will be: all these found in the words, in the books, in the countless libraries.

There’s a library handed down in almost every time and place, such a common experience in this literate age that we take no note of it. It’s a collection, sometimes collections, of our encounters with God and neighbor. It’s a record of mistakes and tragedy, a song of praise and beauty and gratitude for the blessings of life. Sometimes it’s poetry, prose, history, and personal letters; it’s available in all kinds of languages and in all kinds of cultures. Extraordinary and common. Whether Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim, or Christian, sacred scripture is handed down. It’s the deepest expression of our longing for God and our love (or lack of love) for one another, handed down in paperback and hardcover, downloaded on a Kindle or heard on tape.

For whatever reason, we often think of this library as a single book – impressive and weighty, but not particularly helpful. Such a tragedy to have the library of the soul at our fingertips, freely given but rarely opened…

ottableofcontentsPerhaps that’s the biggest lesson a library can teach: all the voices of the past, in all the words of today, have no power to transform us and our world unless we delve into them. All the voices of the present will have no power to bless future generations unless we hand them down.

For A Time

boarbooksI don’t buy many new books. Whenever possible, I borrow new stories from the library. If I love it, I’ll buy a copy; if not, I return it with no cost but the time it took to read. This keeps my shelves at home full of books I love and empty of ones I don’t, and it keeps the mental and physical clutter down to a minimum.

In years past, I did the same with books for my growing sons. Our favorites have shelf space at home. Outgrown favorites are passed on to the library or neighbors, giving them a life beyond our family. Our board book copies of A Very Hungry Caterpillar and Sheep Out to Eat, with duplicates of Harry the Dirty Dog and Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel are in the hands of other children, passing on the blessing they gave to me and my sons. The stories and pictures are still in our hearts and minds, and we can always borrow a copy if we feel nostalgic.

My older son will begin his senior year in September, my younger his eighth grade year. Both are well on their way to adulthood, no longer children who need me to read stories. I can’t put my sons on a shelf or stop them from growing up. Soon they will live lives beyond my home and help. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Like library books, they aren’t mine: I’ve borrowed them for a brief time, keeping them safe and enjoying the adventures they bring. Besides, they are written on my heart and soul – no need to keep them when the time comes to let them go.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1

Prayer of Saint Francis: Lord

 

Lord,

Make me an instrument of Thy Peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; to be understood, as to understand; to be loved, as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

(This prayer is attributed to Saint Francis. He was born in 1181 or 1182 into a wealthy family in Assisi, Umbria. He grew up in comfort, turned into a rowdy youth, and eventually looked for glory on the battlefield. His life plan altered when he encountered God. In prayer, he heard God tell him to rebuild the church. He devoted himself to a life of prayer, poverty and service. He is the founder of the Order of Friars Minor (OFM), usually called the Franciscans. He died in 1226 after a life of prayer, poverty, and service. His life, work, and words have inspired countless numbers of people.)

 

Lord

I don’t use this term much outside of A Song of Ice and Fire and Lord of the Rings conversations. It’s an antique word that evokes images of knights, castles, queens, and serfs. Outside British royalty, real or fictional, the only Lord I’ve heard of recently is Lord Voldemort – not a great credit to the title.

The only other place I use Lord is in prayer. Lord Jesus, Gracious Lord, Lord God. When I say and pray Lord, I’m admitting and accepting that someone else is in charge. I am serving someone other than myself. I am not the ruler of the universe, just a servant in the kingdom that is this creation. Sometimes I am at peace with this, and sometimes I’m not.

Jesus says that “no one can serve two masters,” that I “cannot serve God and wealth”(Mt.6:23) The underlying assumption is that I am serving someone or something. It might be money or fame; it could be a worthy cause or a particular country. Knowingly or not, I serve something or someone. I suspect this is true. If it is, then I’d better choose my Lord carefully…

The Value of Change

 

[Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable: “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”]

“Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” Luke 15:1-10, NRSV

One silver coin out of ten, so small and worth so much. The woman careless to lose this small silver fortune. Would I call together friends and neighbors if I’d lost and found something so valuable? Would you?

I wonder what the pharisees and scribes thought of this coin parable, standing in the company of tax collectors and assorted sinners. Losing, seeking, and finding the silver coin wouldn’t be something to tell friends and neighbors – at least have the sense to keep quiet about the whole thing. Such a silly story for a rabbi to tell.

I don’t wonder so much about what the tax collectors and sinners thought of these two lost and found parables. They know they are the lost sheep and the lost coin. But something else must have dawned on everyone there: the lost coin and the wayward sheep were so precious and valuable that a woman and a shepherd risked reputation and life to bring them home.  Jesus claims the angels in heaven break out the cake and party hats to celebrate such a homecoming.

Why? Because the lost aren’t strangers or outsiders; they are the sheep of my flock and the same silver as I am. Perhaps I can only discover and accept such a big, holy truth when it’s wrapped in a parable.

Lost

They say if you get lost in the wild, stay where you are. Wandering around makes it harder to find you, and is likely to land you farther from home rather than closer. But it’s so hard to stay put, lost and doing nothing. Wait anyway. The one who comes loves you and will bring you home.

You may wonder why anyone would come to the rescue when there are ninety-nine who never went astray. Simply put, it’s not a numbers game: the shepherd loves you and wants to bring you home.

And another thing: no matter how many didn’t get lost, home isn’t really home without you. Home comes with you as much as it awaits you.

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable: “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” 

Luke 15:1-10, NRSV

Seeds and Soil

The Parable of the Sower, Mark 4:1-9 (NRSV)

Again he began to teach beside the sea. Such a very large crowd gathered around him that he got into a boat on the sea and sat there, while the whole crowd was beside the sea on the land. He began to teach them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched; and since it had no root, it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.” And he said, “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!”

Daffodil shoots started coming up hours after a few inches of the garden bed emerged from snow and ice. Through a four inch snowfall and freezing cold, they continue to grow and green. There are seven or eight green clumps in that small edge of the bed, even though I only planted four or five bulbs in its whole length a couple years back. Who knows how many others will grow when the rest of bed surfaces? Last year, they filled the bed – beauty in yellow visiting this small piece of soil, yielding so much more than was sown.

It was a different story three years ago, with just a few dozen green leaves and a stray flower or two pushing through a bed lost to grass and weeds before I called this place home. I took a spade to them one August, hoping to find a few bulbs to fill in a bare spot in the garden. I found hundreds; the bulbs were good but the soil wasn’t. All that potential slept within those bulbs until they found good soil.

I couldn’t throw out those hundreds of bulbs, so I planted them in every available spot in my yard – under the lilacs, off the walkway, on the banking – and at the town library. Another hundred or so I gave away. Every Spring, those bulbs that couldn’t grow in poor soil bloom all over my yard; they grow and multiply to grace the library beds; they edge the yards of friends and strangers alike. There must be thousands of them by now. For some digging, soil preparation, and generosity, I’ve had the honor to see the abundance of God.

I think the same is true of me and everyone else. We have been given seeds, talents and gifts that will grow in beauty, honoring God and blessing the world. But they can’t grow just anywhere, and we have to be willing to do some digging and rearranging. What we’ve been given is more than good seed, it’s unearned and beautiful abundance. As Jesus tells us, “let anyone who has ears to hear listen!”

Role Change

The Parable of the Sower, Mark 4:1-9 (NRSV)

Again he began to teach beside the sea. Such a very large crowd gathered around him that he got into a boat on the sea and sat there, while the whole crowd was beside the sea on the land. He began to teach them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched; and since it had no root, it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.” And he said, “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!” 

Jesus interprets the story for his disciples and followers…the seed is the word, the good news Jesus offers the world. The part about seed falling on the path refers to the ones who lose the word immediately. The rocky ground is about those who get the good news at first, but only in a shallow sense. When difficulties arise, the word dies within them. The thorns are the the burdens of the world; for some, they are too much, choking out the good seed. But some of the seeds find good soil – people who hear the word, take it into themselves, and live out of its goodness. Faith and grace are multiplied beyond all expectations. (Mark 4:10-20)

It’s a great interpretation, in general and for this particular time, place, and company. So far, sowing the word is what Jesus does; the disciples listen and receive. But not forever. Two chapters from this parable, Jesus will send his followers out into the world, changing who they are in the parable from fertile ground to sower.

I love this parable, but my fondness for it can blind me, keeping it boxed up in one tidy little understanding. I do my best to be fertile soil, to let what is given take root and grow through my thoughts and actions. It’s amazing what can grow. And it’s not just me. I’ve seen so much abundance in the lives of others. From little seeds great crops grow.

Here’s my question about this parable: am I meant to remain the soil? Jesus didn’t let his disciples stay soil. When they were ready, he sent them out to sow, scattering far and wide the good news, two by two. This world needs sowers just as surely as it needs soil. When the time comes, will I let go of fertile soil to become the sower of holy seeds?

The Story of the Persistent Widow

Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’” And the Lord said, ‘ Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” Luke 18:1-8, NRSV

To be honest, parables have never made much sense to me. Even after they are explained, I still do not completely grasp the message. Yet, there is something about this parable of the persistent widow and unjust judge that grabs me…something I understand.

I picture Jesus sitting in a circle with his disciples telling the story of a widow asking a judge for what was rightly hers. The judge did not give the widow the time of day. He did not care about those most vulnerable or about what God thought. Day in and day out the judge went to work, and day in and day out, the widow showed up advocating for her rights. Finally, when the judge could not listen to her another minute longer, he granted what was due her.

Then the Master said, “Do you hear what that judge, as corrupt as he is, is saying? So what makes you think God won’t step in and work justice for his chosen people, who continue to cry out for help? Won’t he stick up for them? I assure you, he will. He will not drag his feet.”  The Message (Eugene Peterson)

How I admire the widow! I struggle to find my voice; she consistently spoke up for herself despite her situation. I give up at times when things get too difficult; she remained steadfast and refused to quit. I question my feelings and beliefs; she never changed her mind or thought herself unworthy. She persisted in her action and held on to hope. And in the end, an unlikely judge was just.

“But how much of that kind of persistent faith will the Son of Man find on earth when he returns?” The Message

I am grateful for Jesus’ words this Lent. He reminds me what is important: incessant prayer, eternal hope and persistent faith. When I find myself getting discouraged or feeling a bit hopeless and unworthy, I will think of the widow and remember that our God of justice hears me and stands up for me. If such unlikely characters as the judge and the widow could take action, why can’t I?

Offered by Heidi Marcotte, mission adventurer and truth seeker.