Category Archives: Meditation

gratitude, life basics, Meditation, observation

Over a plate and a glass

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I went to a funeral today. I didn’t know the man who died, but I’ve known his daughter for years. She is a gift to the town I call home, a sure and steady force for common sense and community service. Today was a chance to offer her my condolences, and to offer a prayer of thanks for the life of her father.

After the church and graveside prayers have all been said, family and friends stay together for one last holy act: sharing a meal. There are stories and memories best told over a loaded plate and a full cup, heard  most gratefully over the scrape of forks and clinking of glasses. This meal that honors a life and its loss isn’t just a nice extra. It is the first act of a family who will gather together and continue to grow, not with but because of the one who is no longer present.

I’m a stranger to the family, so I did not share their meal and stories today. But sometime soon, I’ll chop onions and carrots for soup and make a loaf of bread. I’ll pick up a bottle of wine. I’ll offer these small things to a daughter who buried her father, and I’ll tell her that I am thankful for the man who brought her into this world – a delight to God and a gift to this world. Could I say such words without the food? Perhaps. But they seem easier to say and easier to hear over a plate and a glass than on their own.

Biblical Reflection, gratitude, life basics, Meditation, observation, Prayer

One For The Blog

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As far as I know, I was the only bartender who went to Princeton Seminary in the ’90’s. Either no one else had tended bar, or no one else would admit to it. It’s too bad, in either case: my time behind the bar gave me admission to the inner and outer lives of so many people. I have no idea how many secrets they told me – fears, hopes, embarrassments, family troubles, and a handful of come-to-Jesus stories. All these treasures given to me in exchange for a Beefeater, a Bud, a Cabernet, and a tip.

Grandpa Pete drank himself to death, so my parents didn’t have alcohol in the house much – just a glass of wine on Thanksgiving, a New Year’s toast, and a six pack when relatives came over to paint, paper, or repair. My husband and I enjoy wine and beer at home and the occasional mixed drink in a restaurant, but we aren’t exactly heavy hitters. We’ve both seen too many lives ruined by excessive drinking to tip the bottle too often. In moderation, alcohol loosens tongues, encourages self-disclosure, and is a sure sign of hospitality; in excess, alcohol is an excuse for verbal abuse, physical intimidation, and violence – the power of fermentation.

I enjoy having a glass of wine while I make dinner. I treasure the times my husband and I lingered at the table after dinner, splitting the last glass of rioja by candlelight. Wine in hand, I delve deeper into the grace of the moment, and I’m more aware of the wonders of food and companionship. It’s not a necessity, but it’s surely a nicety.

There’s truth in wine (In vino, veritas). Jesus shared wine with his closest friends and his betrayer, and the coming of the Holy Spirit looked to all the world like a bunch of early morning drunks. It’s a marvelous thing to let loose and see the world through more appreciative eyes. It’s a terrible thing to drink away reality and excuse cruelty with a bottle. Hidden compassion and undercover violence are both given out with that drink. Which one do I choose?

Lord, keep watch over me. Amen.

Biblical Reflection, life basics, Meditation, observation, Prayer

Hospitality On A Plate

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I don’t watch Master Chef any more. It’s not that I don’t love a good cooking competition. It isn’t the quality of the cooking, the expertise of the chefs, or the contestants. I just got sick of the yelling, the swearing, the demeaning comments, and the this-isn’t-me-chef-I-can-do-much-better groveling. Not just one of the judges, but all of them reacted to failed dishes as if the cook created the fiasco just to insult their palates. Tears, shame, anger. All over a culinary attempt gone awry. The meanness of it all killed the entertainment value of it for me.

I’ve worked in many restaurants over the years, and worked with many chefs and cooks. Swearing doesn’t bother me, and I don’t find the off-color humor insulting – it’s just the culinary environment (and I’ve got quite a colorful vocabulary myself). But there’s a difference between this kind of back and forth among the staff and what goes on in front of the camera: the one is hospitable, the other destructive. Both end in fantastic food on a plate, but one nourishes the soul while the other shreds it.

Eating and drinking are necessary, life-sustaining daily acts. Preparing a special meal or enjoying one at a favorite restaurant is meant to be a gift of nourishment and hospitality. Nowhere do I see this truth in the judges and their treatment of the home chefs. Perhaps it’s really there, just edited out to increase the drama and ratings. Perhaps honest advice and criticism without an insult wouldn’t get good ratings. Perhaps it’s all just part of the media game. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But something’s gotten lost.

In many cultures, hospitality toward family, friends, and strangers is a sacred practice. In scripture, being hospitable to anyone who sits at the table was considered a faithful act. Who knew what angels we might entertain, disguises as strangers?

Angels or not, I don’t want my zeal for producing a delicious meal to turn a life-sustaining activity into the soul’s punishment.

Gracious God, make my heart hospitable and my table the same. Amen.

Biblical Reflection, life basics, Meditation, observation, Theology

The Service Industry

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As Martin Luther emphasized, serving others is THE reason we work. God calls us to love and serve our neighbor, and it is through our work that we respond to that call.

[Ray, Darby Kathleen, Working, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011, p. 123]

Work isn’t just to gain the necessities of life: it’s a way to serve the world through our actions. Taken to its end, all professions are meant to be helping professions, designed to give something back as much as to pull money in. What is valuable is what serves others in love, what is a response to God and neighbor. It is its own reward – pro bono with a salary or without. What a thought!

The measuring of professional success cannot be outrunning the other rats in the race. Getting the biggest slice of the pie isn’t the goal; making sure everyone gets dessert, perhaps even baking the pie, start to count. But such things can’t be definitively measured. They are seeds planted and potential fostered. Why consider things beyond the paycheck and the goods that come with it? Why not win the working game by the usual rules: material gain equals success? Ray notes this:

Jesus spent a whole lot of time doing nonheroic work: walking beside those who were heavy-laden; caring for the sick, the infirmed, the outcast, and the prisoner; telling stories rooted in everyday experiences; sharing simple meals with friends and strangers. [ibid., p. 127]

Could he have done otherwise? Sure. But he didn’t. He didn’t rule the land or preside over the temple. His work involved walking around everywhere and nowhere, talking with everyone who happened his way. He didn’t measure a person’s worth by the coins in a pocket. Job titles didn’t seem to matter much to him, but generosity and compassion did. The first and the last jumbled together, equally loved and often equally lost.

I have the luxury of meaningful work. I can write, teach, and serve on a municipal board pro bono. I can tend a garden, clean floors, and drive the carpool to school. No titles or measuring sticks necessary. All this work is a privilege, not just some of it. I sometimes forget this.

Lord, help me, lest I become arrogant in my forgetfulness.

life basics, Meditation, observation, Theology

Would you if you didn’t have to?

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Would you work if you didn’t have to? Seriously. If you didn’t need the money, would you still work?

(Darby Kathleen Ray, Working, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2011, p.7)

It’s the opening of Ray’s book, kicking off a thoughtful exploration of how work affects us all. Beyond survival and acquiring enough to live a decent life, Darby believes that work is about having something to do. She continues:

Paid or unpaid, work endows our daily lives with structure, routine, and purpose. Through work, we act on the world around us. (ibid, p7)

I agree. Whether it’s the school schedule, paid or volunteer work, ongoing housework, or an occasional special project, work gives shape to my days in a way that other things do not (I’ve yet to check my play schedule to pencil in a work day, but I’ve certainly done the opposite). I’ve often heard discussions about the work ethic, but have yet to hear one about the relaxation ethic. How about you?

Is it a good thing that work provides the structure, routine, and purpose to my life? It’s not a bad thing. It’s how things are in the adult world. But sometimes the structures that define my daily living are the very ones I don’t notice – too big to be seen, perhaps. The problem is I might mistake something so basic for my life’s foundation. There needs to be something bigger and holier to this life, something that isn’t caught up in my abilities and my production. At some point, those things are going to diminish, perhaps disappear altogether.

Is there a bigger structure, an alternate routine, an eternal purpose that puts my work into perspective? Of course. It’s quite simple, but not particularly glamorous or easy to spot. It’s mentioned in church every so often, and quite a few Bible passages point me to it: Love God, and love neighbor as I do my own self. The God/self/neighbor lens brings my work into a much larger, sacred world. It can help me figure out how to work for something beyond a few material goods, a professional title, and a place to spend my time. It’s a way to offer who I am through my work, and a way to avoid mistaking my work for who I am.

Dear God, bless the work of my hands, that I might honor you and serve my neighbor as I work. Amen.

life basics, Meditation, observation

Asleep and Dreaming

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There are all kinds of studies about REM sleep, psychological implications of dream interpretation, and dream archetypes as doorways into the collective unconscious (thank you, Jung!). Dream analysis can be illuminating and fun, and sometimes a way to understand a dreamer whose waking pain prevents direct, conscious conversation. Favorite characters open their hearts and minds through dreams, and adventures sometimes depend on what is seen, felt, and learned in them (Dream on Harry Potter, Meg Murray, Percy Jackson, Daenerys Targaryen). God comes to dreamers, sleeping and awake (Paul, Hildegard, Peter, Mary, Magi, MLK, Francis and Clare). When we dismiss and discount the power of dreams, we close our eyes to the mystery that is our internal life and the glory that is the life of creation.

My dreams affect my waking life, and my waking actions affect my dreams. I have awoken with a new perspective to events in my life; taking cold medicine or antibiotics darkens the colors in my dreamscape, and certain pain meds bring on psychedelic shapes and 1960’s music (unexpected result of wisdom teeth removal). How can I deny the power of my dreams?

As a rule, I’m not one to spend time interpreting my dreams. But their fluidity, their permeable and mutable nature mean that I can alter sleeping reality with a simple change of mind or perspective. If nothing else, dreams are the playroom where I practice transforming the world through my thoughts and actions. It may not work so quickly or strangely, but I’m kidding myself if I think my thoughts and actions have no effect in this waking world I call home.

What do you dream? What dreams of yours change this waking world we share?

life basics, Meditation

Sleep in Earthly Peace

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I’m not prone to insomnia, but every so often it pays a visit. Usually I know why – a loved one in trouble, an upcoming event, anxiety over a difficult problem or project, conflict with someone I love. The times I’ve been awake for reasons unknown are in the single digits – a blessing I don’t give thanks for nearly enough. In those sleepless hours, I have mulled over things done and left undone, rehearsed imaginary dialogues and explanations, and strained to see what the intentions of others might have in store for the world in general and me in specific. I can’t say any of it helped. My eyelids didn’t close. Losing sleep only made whatever caused it worse.

No one person can predict or control what happens in this uncertain world. The good, bad, and indifferent among us all have the means to create a better world or destroy a beloved part of it. I can’t control the actions of others, yet I will live with the consequences. So will everyone else. It’s not exactly a reassuring truth, is it? How can I fall asleep every night in such a reality?

There are two truths that help me. The first, my grandmother taught me: get up, do your best every day, and don’t worry about what is beyond that.  In Biblical terms: don’t worry about tomorrow, tomorrow will worry about itself. Today has enough trouble of its own (Matthew 6:34) The second: whatever happens, God won’t lose track of me or anyone else.  

With such truths in hand, its time for bed…

I will both lie down and sleep in peace; for you alone, O Lord, make me lie down in safety. Psalm 4:8

life basics, Meditation, observation

Back to Basics: Sleeping

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Sleeping is the foundation of my waking life. Without it, everything gets shaky. I’m short with my children and husband. I eat more than I should to keep my body going, and usually the wrong things. It takes so much energy to plough through the day that I lose my ability and desire to look ahead, to imagine and work toward a better reality, to consider new ideas. Sleepwalking through my daily routine, I don’t notice other people, I don’t see the beauty of the world around me, and I forget the blessings of this holy life.

According to recent studies, many of us are chronically sleep deprived. The fast pace of life, work, and the easy availability of everything around the clock lengthen the day.  The glowing, blinking light of tv’s, computers, phones, and games make it hard for the mind to rest even after they are turned off. Good sleep doesn’t just happen anymore: it’s something we have to value and plan for. Sadly, getting enough sleep isn’t very high on our cultural must-do list.

So why are so many of us living a sleep deprived life? It can’t be because we feel better or happier. Could it be because we prefer a half-aware life with a few extra hours each day to a wide-awake one that includes restful nights of dreaming?

What is so important that it keeps me up at night? What is so critical that it robs you of sleep? It’s something I’ll explore this week. I hope you will, too.

 

Meditation, Prayer

New Beginning?

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What does it mean, this marking of the end of one year and the beginning of another? Is it just an arbitrary date on the calendar, chosen for convenience or as a holdover from centuries past? It’s cold and dark when I get up; it’s cold and dark long before I go to sleep. There isn’t a lot about the beginning of January that lends itself to thoughts of new beginnings and new life.

Yet. Yet. Yet. The sun is moving from its shortest appearance to its longest. Incremental gains in light every day. I may not notice the change until February, but it is there. These little changes will accumulate like the Fall leaves in my back yard.

Perhaps the new year begins in a dark time because it tells me a truth: what gives light and life grows more often than it crashes full grown out of the blue.

Blessings and Peace to you this New Year, this New Day.

Advent2016, Biblical Reflection, Meditation, Prayer, Theology

A SAD Season

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Readings:  Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2: 1-14

Winter is a tricky time of year.  For some it is memories of snowmen, skiing, holiday parties, and the adventure of swirling blizzards.  For others it brings the bleakness of short days and cold nights, Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), holidays muted by the absence of departed loved ones, or the urge to get to the warmth of Florida as quickly as humanly possible.  So it is, as the days of autumn rush toward late December, that many experience a paradoxical mix of anticipation and melancholy.

Over two-thousand years ago, as the days continued dark and discouraging for the people of Israel—occupied by Roman legions, deluged by worldly ways, ruled by a “king of the Jews” who wasn’t even Jewish—there was a similar mix of anticipation and melancholy.  For hundreds of years their lives had not been their own as they were overrun and ruled by one kingdom after another with only the briefest glimpses of freedom.  They had lived in this condition long enough that their various responses to their plight to become solidified into sects—Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes—each with their own politics, theology, and lifestyles.  One of the few things they may have had in common was the word of the prophet, Isaiah.

1Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress. In the past he humbled the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the future he will honor Galilee of the nations, by the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan—

2The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;

on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.

3You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy;

they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest,

as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder.

4For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered

the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders,

the rod of their oppressor.

5Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood

will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.

6For to us a child is born,

to us a son is given,

and the government will be on his shoulders.

And he will be called

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

7Of the greatness of his government and peace

there will be no end.

He will reign on David’s throne

and over his kingdom,

establishing and upholding it

with justice and righteousness

from that time on and forever.

The zeal of the Lord Almighty

will accomplish this.

Isaiah 9:1-7 (NIV)

The days in which Isaiah uttered these words were days of hardship and fear.  The northern kingdom of Israel had been overrun in an Assyrian invasion.  Isaiah’s friends in the southern kingdom of Judah feared a similar fate.  It was during these tense times that the Lord spoke through Isaiah with a message of hope.  A light… a nation… a victory… a child… a King!

In one sense very little had changed in Israel in the 700 years since the time of Isaiah’s prophecy.  Instead of the Assyrians or the Babylonians it was the Romans.  Conditions were much the same.  His words would have fallen on the ears of those in Jerusalem, Nazareth and Bethlehem in much the same way they had been heard by their ancestors: Don’t despair.  God’s anointed messiah was on his way!  Can you imagine the mixed emotions of anticipation and melancholy?  Can you imagine the relief and joy of those who actually witnessed the life of the Child… the Son… the King?

Two-thousand more years have come and gone.  Have our lives been overrun by worldly ways?  Are we ruled by kings who bear no resemblance to the King of kings?  Are we beginning to question the promise of the messiah’s Second Coming?  Are we experiencing a SAD season—memories of spiritual victories and God’s breakthrough moments tempered by defeat and discouragement and a desperate longing for something more?  Is it only melancholy, or is there a hint of anticipation?

Isaiah’s words were enough for his contemporaries as well as those who were tending their flocks on the hillsides around Bethlehem 700 years later.  Are they enough for us today?  In these tricky days of winter they are enough!  Winter is a season of our spiritual lives when we may not see much happening.  We may feel the melancholy that comes with dormancy.  Yet, if we can but lift our heads above the snowbank we will get a glimpse of what is coming—a glimpse of springtime showers, summer warmth, and harvest time.  Let the words of Isaiah kindle a spark of anticipation in your soul.  The SAD season won’t last forever!

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Words offered by David Shaw – minister, listener, child of God.