Lent2016, Meditation, Prayer

My Prayer

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I arise today (I bind unto myself this day)
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In the obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of the patriarchs,
In the predictions of prophets,
In the preaching of apostles,
In the faith of confessors,
In the innocence of holy virgins,
In the deeds of righteous men.
Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, Third stanza
(For complete prayer, click Lent 2016: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate)

My God,

May I have the eyes of a child and a heart full of ancient wisdom – both necessary to see your cherubim, angels, and archangels

May I remember that resurrection is your way with all things, now and forever, meeting me here and now; resurrection is its own reward

May my life answer to the prayers of the patriarchs, not reject them

May the prophets’ words bless me with compassion for anyone in need and the strength to help them even at my own cost

May my words about Jesus be truthful and plain

May faith infuse my every thought

May I value innocent trust over worldly mistrust

Whoever I am, whatever I do, keep me in your love. Sinful and righteous, there is no life for me beyond you.

Amen.

Epiphany2016, Meditation, Prayer

Strength, obedience, service

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I arise today (I bind unto myself this day)

Through the strength of the love of cherubim,

In the obedience of angels,

In the service of archangels,

In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

In the prayers of the patriarchs,

In the predictions of prophets,

In the preaching of apostles,

In the faith of confessors,

In the innocence of holy virgins,

In the deeds of righteous men.

Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, Third stanza (For complete prayer, click Lent 2016: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate)

 

I don’t bind unto myself or arise through strength or in obedience and service in general: I do so through the strength of the love of cherubim, in the obedience of angels, and in the service of archangels. Strength, obedience, and service to all that is holy and compassionate can transform the world, bringing creation closer to the heart of God. Strength, obedience, and service to anything less can break the spirit and bring devastation to the universe. I must be careful what I bind unto myself and what gives me the strength to arise.

Cherubim, angels, and archangels live before God and for God. They see and serve the Mystery of the Creator and Sustainer. If I ever encounter one, I’ll be frightened by my own helplessness in the presence of such power (I’ll definitely need a “fear not”). But they come from the God who loves me and will not harm me. Instead of annihilation from such strength, obedience, and service, I arise because of it.

But I don’t live before and for God with my whole self. I am capable, willing even, to seek partial power for myself rather than rest in the holiness of God. I seek my own good at the expense of others. I cannot wish good things for my enemies, or even my friends, unless the love of God surrounds me.

But I dare to arise because others have arisen. Not completely, not without mistakes, but arisen nonetheless: patriarchs, prophets, apostles, confessors, holy virgins, and righteous men who dared to live in and for God’s love.

Now, it’s my turn.

 

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Lent2016, Meditation, Theology

Sand Pail Theology

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I arise today

     Through the strength of Christ’s birth with His baptism,

     Through the strength of His crucifixion with His burial,

     Through the strength of His resurrection with His ascension,

     Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

                    Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, Second stanza

When I was a child, I spent a lot of time at the beach. Exploring tide pools was my favorite pastime – picking up starfish, jellyfish, barnacles, and crabs from the many pools of water hidden among the rocky coastline at low tide. I’d put some sand in my pail, fill it up half way with ocean water, then add whatever I living creatures caught my attention. I’d keep them for an hour or so, amazed by their beauty, sharing them with my parents and siblings. Then I’d return them to their rocks and pools, knowing that my bucket was way too small to keep them alive and happy.

Creeds and statements of faith remind me of my sand pail. They hold enough of God’s truth to let me explore life and hold it in my hands. But they can’t contain God or sustain life any more than my plastic sand pail could sustain the life of even a single starfish. Words and buckets give us just enough time to be amazed by this creation and the God who created and sustains it all. But the lives we hold and the truths we treasure only live when given back to the great big world and the infinite God who loves every single atom of every single thing that lives in its embrace. When I try to limit life or truth to my own little bucket and meager understanding, things suffer: whatever I’ve attempted to keep and the soul expanding grace that only comes when I am content being a child, standing by the ocean in a big, beloved world.

Biblical Reflection, Lent2016, Meditation, Theology

God given strength

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I arise today Through the strength of Christ’s birth with His baptism, Through the strength of His crucifixion with His burial, Through the strength of His resurrection with His ascension, Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, 2nd stanza

Taken out of the rest of the poem, this looks suspiciously like something we might read in church. A creed of some sort. And it is, but not in the usual way. It’s not an “I agree with the general ideas or principles” kind of thing: it’s a “there isn’t a single part of Jesus’ life that was unrelated to God” proclamation.

Christ is born: God giving him to the world; Christ is baptized: Jesus gives his work life over to God for us.

Christ is crucified: this world of fear rejects him; Christ is buried: his friends and family give Jesus back to the earth and to God.

Christ is resurrected: Jesus reveals the face of God, his face, to his followers; Christ ascends: the humanity of Jesus is forever part of the inner life of God.

His descent for the judgment of doom: death cannot separate anyone from the love of God. Our small, partial, fragile egos are doomed because our true, whole, God given selves are too big and too holy for them to contain.

These things we read in poems and creeds were never meant to drag us down or punish us. They are our strength because they reveal the soul saving truth: no one is excluded from the love of God. We arise in this time and in this place through the strength they give us.

Biblical Reflection, Epiphany2016, Meditation, Prayer

Ash Wednesday: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate

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I arise today 


Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,


Through belief in the Threeness,


Through confession of the Oneness


of the Creator of creation.

The wonder-full arising – a daily blessing, miracle even, when I arise with God’s mighty strength. When I praise God for this day with my first breath upon awakening, the Creator of creation is known to me;

the one who became like you and me, who walked through History with dusty feet and showed us the Way, cementing salvation in our souls, is known to me; the one who is in me, nearer than hands and feet, closer than that first awakening breath, whose presence is real when I am truly awake, is known to me.

I have called these realities the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit but they are the One. Whatever I say about God the Father – omnipresent, eternal, loving – can be said of Jesus and the Spirit. What a great God we serve who has pulled out all the stops to be known in this moment of awakening.

May I be truly engaged this first day of Lent, this Ash Wednesday, in this Presence – and throughout these 40 days be tuned in to the Frequency that is my life.

Offered by Bill Albritton, teacher, leader, follower of Christ.

 

 

 

Biblical Reflection, Lent2016, Meditation, Prayer

Brilliant Light, Gathering Darkness

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Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Matthew 17:1-2, NRSV

The season of Epiphany ends here on this mountaintop. The disciples see Jesus shining like the sun, and they are nearly blinded by the light. But this isn’t a story about Jesus having a supernatural transformation: he didn’t change on that mountain, the disciples did. Their blindness fell away and they saw Jesus as he always was: divine and human.

This is one of my favorite passages in the New Testament. It says something about who Jesus is (God’s son, real person), and something about who I am – capable of seeing the glory of God in this life and equally capable of closing my eyes to it in willful blindness. Even when I see the glory of God, I am as likely to misunderstand its meaning in my life as Peter did just a few short verses later. The glory of God is more than a brilliant light burning on a mountaintop. This light is the living, breathing, love of God who will leave the heights to bring light and hope to the darkest of places.

The shadows are darkening, and the road to Jerusalem beckons. The brilliance of this mountaintop transfiguration will shine into resurrection. But the days in between are dark, and I am afraid. I would not dare to walk this road alone. But I walk with all the faithful who have ever lived. Like Saint Patrick did when in danger, I will arise to walk the road, and I will bind unto myself the strength of God. I will dare to follow Jesus on this Lenten road…

[Note: A different part of Saint Patrick’s Breastplate will be the focus for each week of Lent. To read the full prayer, click Lent 2016:Saint Patrick’s Breastplate at the top of the page. Background information on the prayer and resources for further study can be found by clicking About Saint Patrick’s Breastplate.]

Epiphany2016, Meditation

Resolution: Stay Connected

I keep up with friends by phone, email, the occasional text, over coffee, and at the dinner table. Most of my friends and family keep in touch on phones, tablets, and computers – a few clicks and it’s done. What’s happening with the family, where everyone is meeting, and a review of the new local restaurant go to everyone as a group. Social media is an efficient way to communicate, and this month I’ll jump in – the last one in the information pool.

I’m not opposed to social media. I think it’s a great way to share information. But information isn’t connection. Pictures with captions and a few sentences about my friends’ latest adventures are life snapshots: better than nothing, but just a passing glimpse of who they are. To connect in a personal way, there has to be more. Social media can go both ways: lead to deeper connections or keep those deeper encounters away. Information instead of or for encounter, Oz hiding behind the digital curtain or Bastian Balthazar Bux moving through the words to save a world and reveal himself.

Deep encounter takes time. When I don’t take the time to move through pictures and blurbs on a screen to true connection, the best I can hope for is a passing familiarity with those I love. That’s the easy road, requiring little more from me than an occasional hello. But it doesn’t bring me to the home where they live. To get there is a different journey on a road that requires time, effort, and sacrifice to walk. To be at home with those I love is communion – the true purpose and destination of all communication. Social media puts me at the crossroads. I hope I choose the road that will make all the difference…

[Oz can be found in Baum’s The Wizard of Oz series; Bastian Balthazar Bux lives in Ende’s The Neverending Story.]

Biblical Reflection, Epiphany2016, Meditation

Resolution: Exercise

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nighttracksUnless I’m sick or the weather prevents it, I walk several times a week. My blood pressure and heart rate benefit from it, and it keeps me from gaining too much weight. Tidal bay waters are a quarter mile from my door, and the river is almost as close. Whichever direction I go, I can find these calm and rough waters, along with trees, birds, and squirrels in minutes. I can also find Tobey hospital, the library, and train tracks. It’s a pleasure to exercise by walking, so this is an easy resolution to keep. But is it possible to go home by another road? There isn’t really a way home that I haven’t already walked multiple times.

It’s an objective truth that I can never walk home the same way twice. The planet is in an different place, the weather changes, nearby houses are repaired or fall into ruin, and the neighbors I see today I may not see tomorrow. I no longer push a stroller or have a toddler holding my hand as I walk. Neighbors have come and gone, and the ones who remain grow older just as I do. Three of my relatives have died, two have been born, nine have graduated from high school, and two are now married. So much of my life’s reality has changed during these years that I’ve been walking from this door, from this home on this street in this town. I never return home the same way twice is my subjective truth because my home isn’t just the white house I live in – it’s the gracious, God-given life I live.

This year as I head out the door for my usual exercise, I’ll continue to enjoy what I see and hear. But I’ll keep in mind how the road that brings me home is different from the one I set out on. It’s not just my life story that’s lived out on these streets, it’s the holy life story of creation. I’m part of the great history of the universe, albeit a very small one. But even my small part, my dusty road, brings me to God-with-Us. So does yours.

 

Epiphany2016, Meditation

Resolution: Rest

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Rest is the space between notes that gives shape to melody and harmony. Without it, a song becomes unrecognizable. When a musician in the orchestra misses a rest, the entire symphony is lost until the rest is recovered. Pushing through won’t help; only a pause in playing can restore the musician’s place in the symphony. Rests are required for two or more to play together.

I think the same is true for my life. Pushing headlong at breakneck speed doesn’t improve my performance and it puts me at odds with everyone else. I can’t add anything meaningful without the pauses, and I certainly can’t play well with others if I’m too busy playing my own part at my own hectic pace.

I don’t think the point of life is to get to the end as quickly as possible, or jamming in as many notes as possible. It’s not how beautiful music is made, and it certainly isn’t how a beautiful life is created. If I want to sing a new song to the Lord, I have to honor the quiet spaces between the notes. Solo or as a single voice in the choir of all God’s creatures, it’s the rest that makes my life a song rather than a noisy cacophony.

Biblical Reflection, Epiphany2016, Meditation

Resolution: Get My Finances In Order

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...ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road. Luke 2: 9b-12

I usually don’t spend a lot of time thinking about money, but recently I’ve been gathering tax forms, bank balances, mortgage payments, and retirement information as part of my son’s college application process. For the first time, I am looking at the Magi’s story in terms of money.

There is very little information about these visitors in scripture, not even how many came or where they were from. Traditions vary the number (3-12, with 3 the most common today) and where they called home (Persia, India, Yemen?). Were they kings or Zoroastrian priests? Astrologers/astronomers? No one knows, exactly, and traditions contradict one another. But whatever their names, whatever their number, wherever their homeland, these magi spent a considerable fortune to find the infant king. So much treasure just to kneel in the dirt in front of Jesus and Mary. What did they get in return? Only overwhelming joy and a chance to find God-with-Us in a poor house in a strange land.

I’m sure their finances would never be what they might have been had they just stayed home. I’m sure some of their neighbors thought they squandered their fortunes for nothing. But home in the biggest sense is where we find God, or God finds us. How much is it worth to be at home with God in an unknown town in a foreign land? Every penny they spent and more. Given the chance, I hope I manage my money just as wisely.

Moving into God’s presence through words