Category Archives: Meditation

Seeing, Thinking, and Acting Differently

Psalm 27; Isaiah 4:206; Acts 11:1-18

Pondering Acts 11:1-18

Advent is about more than getting ready for a baby to be born. I am expecting two new grandchildren in March – just two weeks apart. I know what expectant parents and grandparents go through, especially first-time parents, as one of my sons will be. As wondrous and challenging as that kind of expecting can be, the expecting of Advent is about something altogether different. The presence of a baby changes countless things in the lives of his or her parents. The presence of God changes everything in the world.

Peter is a great example of what happens when God is present. Acts 11:1-18 offers one of many examples of the radical change this encounter brings. What was unclean is now clean. What was forbidden is now embraced. What could not be seen or thought about is being done. Deep and profound change has extended the love and grace of God to more people. And, I’m willing to bet, as faithful as Peter had been, he came to understand and experience the love of God more fully, too.

This is one of the reasons we need Advent, I think. What we are about to experience is so radically different from the normal, everyday routine of our living that unless we prepare ourselves for it we won’t be able to handle it. Christmas will come and go and we’ll be no different than we were before. Advent is a season to get ready – to see differently, to think differently, to act differently because God is here.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Offered December 9, 2014, by Jeff Jones, Director of Ministry Studies and Associate Professor of Ministerial Leadership at Andover Newton Theological School, child of God.

 

Pace, Pain, Peace

Psalm 27; Isaiah 26:7-15; Acts 2:37-42

WAITING

“…I stay my haste, I make delays–

For what avails this eager pace?

I stand amid the eternal ways

And what is mine shall know my face…”

John Burroughs

A few years ago, my husband and I attended a conference focused on showcasing and celebrating the second half of life. What I mainly took away from this teaching was that our contemporary culture does not value elders; rather, it focuses its attention and veneration on youth. I’ve spent the last 27 years parenting three children and the last 13 years teaching middle school students, so I certainly have actively participated in supporting youth myself. However, today’s readings have encouraged me to look at my own inner house as a fifty-something and to ask the questions the Scriptures ask: Whom [or what] should I fear or dread [ as I enter the second half of life]? Who [or what] will be of help to me, will give me courage and the desires of my of my soul [as I face the inevitable losses and richness of the years beyond youth]? In meditating on these questions, what comes to me is trifold.

First, Pace. It must slow down. I struggle to quiet myself enough to hear the still voice within. This challenge goes beyond embracing my monkey brain during meditation. It infiltrates every area of my life. How can I enable myself to do a household chore with calm mindfulness and focused attention when exterior demands are unrelentingly clamoring for my attention? At what point/age, does attending to them abate? The answer, I’ve decided, lies with me. What I allow, continues. What I resist, persists.

Next, Pain. Like most Americans, I resist facing painful situations. Sometimes I am stricken by how much energy I am willing to put into avoiding feeling discomfort rather than simply accepting its entrance, having the experience, learning what it has come to teach me, and moving on through it. I am hopeful that as opportunities present themselves in the second half of my life for me to do all of the above, I will have the wisdom, patience, awareness, and time to allow my heart to be pierced.

Finally, Peace. Striving has worn me out. I want to BE. I am a human being, not a human doing. As the epigraph of this post mentions, “standing amid the eternal ways” helps bring on a perspective that promotes peace. I highly recommend you read the entire poem, especially if you, like me, are transitioning with awareness into a crone mindset, cultivating your life experiences to yield deeper feelings of inner peace.

Today, and for the rest of my life I will strive to deliberately slow my living pace, enfold and learn from the pain that comes to me, and be thankful for the peace that resides in an examined and heartfelt life. Amen.

Offered on December 8, 2014, by Jill Fredrickson, observer, teacher, nurturer of the spirit, child of God.

Flesh and Stone

Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13; Ezekiel 36:24-28; Mark 11:27-33

I will take you from the nations, and gather you from all the countries, and bring you into your own land. I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleanness, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.

Isaiah 38:24-26

A heart of stone can be whittled away by water over time, pounded into dust with a sledgehammer, and melted in a volcano. It can crumble into sand or split into brittle layers. Stones are great for building walls, but not for sustaining human life. There is no heartbeat in a stone, no growth.

A heart of flesh takes in the joys and pains of this world. It can expand to include others, and can contract if hurt. It moves blood through the body. Sometimes the heart loves so well that it will give up its own life for the life of another. Tears and laughter reside here.

A heart of flesh is aways connected to God, always connected to God’s beloved creatures and God’s expanding universe. It feels agony and joy and everything in between. A heart of flesh plants us in this world and draws us into God’s embrace at the same time. God gives us a heart of flesh whenever we permit it, as individuals and as the whole human family.

We’ve also been given God’s heart – wrapped in swaddling clothes, walking on water, multiplying loaves and fish, dying and rising. Jesus, Emmanuel, God’s heart with us.

Come, Heart of God, come.

Offered on December 6, 2014.

The Word of the Lord

Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13; Jeremiah 1:4-10; Acts 11:19-26

In this passage and others in the Book of Jeremiah, the prophet said “The word of the Lord came to me thus..” But, Jeremiah does not say how the word of the Lord came to him, only what he heard from God. Did an angel appear to him like He did to Mary and Joseph? Did God speak through a burning bush as He did with Moses? Probably not. It is more likely that the word of God came to Jeremiah as a still small voice in his heart during a quiet time of prayer. Jeremiah was listening and was open to God. However, Jeremiah was not passive in this relationship. He had a dialogue with God. He trusted God enough to question God: “I know not how to speak.” Perhaps he was trying to avoid the role of prophet that God had called him to.

The word of God comes to each of us in a unique way because we are each God’s special creation. The word could come in the stillness of our hearts, in scripture, through the voice of a family member or friend, while listening to the daily news, or in nature through the chirp of a bird. The ways God gets our attention are limitless. Sometimes the word is consoling and at other times it is challenging.

During this Advent season take some time to reflect on how God is speaking to you. Are you listening? Are you questioning? Are you responding? God is waiting.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Offered on December 5, 2014, by Ann Fowler, spiritual director, praying presence, child of God.

 

Words to Friends

Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13; Hosea 6:1-6; I Thessalonians 1:2-10

“We always give thanks to God for all of you and mention you in our prayers, constantly remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. ”

1 Thessalonians 1:2-3 NRSV

In his first letter to the Thessalonians, Paul addresses this young church as friends, encouraging them to continue in their newly found Christian life. He gives thanks to God for their strong faith in turning toward a living God and away from idols in spite of their suffering. Paul spoke the word of God to them and in prayer, remembered their faith, their love and their hope.

“For we know, brothers and sisters, beloved by God, that he has chosen you, because our message of the gospel came to you not in word only, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction; just as you know what kind of persons we proved to be among you for your sake. And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for in spite of persecution you received the word with joy inspired by the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all the believers…”

1 Thessalonians 1:4-7 NSRV

Paul continues, reminding the Thessalonians that they were chosen by God to share the gospel and live a life worthy of Him. With power and the Holy Spirit, they became messengers of the word, becoming a model for all people. Paul spoke of the coming of Jesus Christ from heaven as God had promised, giving them strength, courage and patience while they waited.

Paul’s message is timeless; it reminds us that we too have been chosen by God to actively seek and share Christ with others. God, through the Holy Spirit, has placed in us the power to change lives, to act and live what we believe. Are we prepared to be the messengers God asks us to be? Are we ready to serve a living God in the here and now while we wait?

Throughout this season of advent as we prepare and wait to celebrate the birth of the Christ child, we also prepare and wait for the second coming of Jesus Christ. And as we start to remove the clutter from our lives and prepare our hearts, let us respond to the Good News of God just as Paul and the Thessalonians did. May we too serve and wait with FAITH and LOVE, and be inspired by HOPE each and every day for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Offered on December 4, 2014, by Heidi Marcotte, mission leader, youth advocate, passionate listener, child of God.

READY

Psalm 79; Micah 5:1-5a; Luke 21: 34-38

R edeemer                                                                                    Lord, make me ready;

                                                                                                      Let me stand

E ternal                                                                                         before you on

                                                                                                      this day with

A lmighty God and Father                                                             my heart

                                                                                                       uplifted to you.

D evotion                                                                                     With the promise

                                                                                                    of life eternal,

Y our Faithful Servant                                                                 I remain your

                                                                                                    faithful servant.

Offered on December 3, 2014, by Susan Sorrento, valued friend, talented parish administrator, child of God.

City Life

Psalm 79; Micah 4:6-13; Revelation 18:1-10

 

Micah 4:6-13:“You shall go to Babylon. There you shall be rescued, there the Lord will redeem you from the hands of your enemies.

Revelation 18:1-10: Then I heard another voice from heaven saying, “Come out of her (Babylon), my people, so that you do not take part in her sins, and so that you do not share in her plagues.”

 

Babylon was a beautiful city, but its many charms were lost on the Jewish exiles brought there in 586b.c. They were prisoners of war, forced from their home land, and no golden city could ease their sorrow. But it is from this city of famous hanging gardens that the Lord will redeem them. It is here, surrounded by architectural wonder and living among cultured captors, that God will come for them.

In a vision of the end of all things, a voice from heaven calls the faithful out of the new Babylon – Rome. Redemption can’t be found in the city, all that’s there is a quagmire of human greed, abuse, and power.

How can anyone hear God’s voice when the pulse of the city changes the very beating of the human heart? It’s too easy to ignore God’s call because life in the fast-paced city is so very captivating. And that’s the point: it’s captures the human heart so completely that it is easy to forget who created all things. Everything centers on city life, not on God – it’s worshipping the cosmopolitan lifestyle rather than God. The old-fashioned word for that? Idolatry.

So what are we to make of it all? Is the city where God comes for us, or is it temptation incarnate? It depends on where our souls reside. Are we at home only with God, or do we belong to the city wholeheartedly? Jesus wasn’t born in a palace, and he didn’t live an uptown life. He wept for Jerusalem not because it was evil, but because so many sold their souls to its life. God’s presence is in every human dwelling, so enjoy the beauty and variety Babylon offers. Just don’t mistake it for your permanent home or your heart’s desire.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Offered on December 2, 2014

 

Learning War and Peace

Psalm 79; Micah 4:1-5; Revelation 15:1-8

In the days to come, the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised up above the hills. People shall stream to it, and many nations 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…”

He shall judge between many peoples, and shall arbitrate between strong nations far away; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more…

War has always been with us, and there isn’t any sign that it’s in danger of extinction. Some say that’s just the way it is. In a world with limited resources, clashing cultures, and breathtaking technology for creating such efficient killing machines, how could it be otherwise? It’s not a good reality, but it is a constant reality, dependable through time and geography.

Micah reminds us that war isn’t natural the way floods or earthquakes are: War is taught and war is learned. It’s a creation of language and fear, weapons and greed. It doesn’t exist, can’t exist, unless our human community accepts it, teaches it, and learns it by heart.

With a change of heart, a refusal play our parts in the strike first/strike back cycle of violence, war can be unlearned. This unlearning is painful and costly. People who teach peace on the global stage usually fall in a hail of bullets. How can anyone find the strength and courage to teach peace and unlearn war? I can’t say what the particulars might be in any given time or place, but I know this: it won’t happen until we enter the house of the Lord. Not just one person, one community, one country, one religion. When I come before the door, I hope I have the presence of mind, the strength of character, and the common courtesy to hold the door for those who come behind me.

Prince of Peace, enter my heart. Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Offered on December 1, Advent 2014

Potter/Clay

Isaiah 64:1-9; Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19; I Cor. 1:3-9; Mark 13:24-32

Yet, O Lord, you are our father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:8

Pottery clay is stiff and unyielding. To form a pot, you must work the clay, kneading in the natural oils, strength and wisdom of your hands. Without these, a lump of clay dries out and crumbles. It takes a lot of work, time, skill and care to turn a lump of clay into anything useful or beautiful.

God and us, a potter and clay. Who knows what shape we will take?Rest assured, it’s the shape we were meant to have. Rest assured, it will be more than useful and beautiful: it will be holy.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Offered on November 30, 2014

Seating

“It’s a full train. Move your things off the seats to make room for others.”

Amtrak announcement

Just as Manhattan was coming into view, a conductor’s voice said these words. Some passengers were getting off at Penn Station, but many more were boarding. As people stood in the aisle to get off, some riders moved into their newly vacated seats. The odd thing? In spite of the announcement, many who moved placed their belongings on the empty seat next to their own. Ten minutes later, new passengers boarded. Several of the seated passengers only moved their belongings off empty seats after being asked by someone who needed a seat.

I sat next to four people on my trip to and from New Jersey – a public school teacher/administrator, a vacationer, a man going home to New Rochelle, and a senior from Tufts returning from a job interview. Two were seated when I boarded, two sat down next to me; none of us had taken up a second seat with our things, and all of us offered a friendly greeting and direct eye contact right away.

What if we’d filled the empty seat with our things, only clearing it when absolutely necessary? I doubt that I’d have sat next to the same four people. When entering the train, I looked for an empty seat. Sitting next to someone who acts like I’m a major imposition isn’t nearly as appealing as the courtesy of a passenger who has already made room for me before being forced into it. Since the empty seat next to me was filled almost immediately when passengers got on at Penn Station, I think others felt the same way.

I understand the appeal of extra room and solitude. An empty seat means no violation of personal space. But I’m not entitled to that extra space; if I’m carrying so much stuff that one seat and the luggage rack isn’t enough, then maybe I should leave some of my baggage at home. Good companions on the journey may be more than a matter of luck: they may be the gift that comes only when I make a space and receive them courteously. A life lesson, courtesy of Amtrak.