Readings: Psalm 125; I Kings 18:1-18; Ephesians 6:10-17

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. [Ephesians 6:10-17, NRSV]

I have struggled with this portion of scripture most of my life.  One of my valued spiritual writers Richard Rohr, in one of his homilies stated, that both Jesus and Paul radically reframed the human situation and invite us to live a vulnerable human life in communal solidarity with both sin and salvation.

Especially in times of fear and anxiety such as we are in today during this Covid-19 crisis, I’m conflicted about how to separate sin and salvation.  Putting on the whole armor of God, I believe, is telling us we need to strengthen ourselves in the Lord and the power of His love and our hope is in the Lord.

No matter how hard I desperately tried to put on the whole armor of God (as I stood it to mean throughout the different seasons of my life) it was never enough; trying to separate sin and salvation, there was always something missing, an empty hole. The something missing, human solidarity, could not be filled with moral superiority or the goal of perfection that had been part of my life’s journey. Imposing my truths and views on other people and situations was not being obedient to the will of God which is love for the world.

Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

I now believe that those who agree to carry and love what God loves, both the good and the bad, and to pay the price for its reconciliation within themselves, are the followers of Jesus Christ.

John of the Cross stated, We grow not by knowing or understanding, but only by loving and trusting. I used to believe that evil must be eliminated, instead of holding it, suffering with it, and learning from it as Jesus did on the cross.

There is a fierce love that wakes me up every morning, blesses me with the capacity to be silent, alone, and grieving when I most need to be. We all have been through an exceedingly difficult season these past nine months. God’s infinite love (the sword of the Spirit), and our ability to draw upon His love is what gets us through.

Human solidarity shows itself in patience, love, and forgiveness toward all things, and as Richard Rohr also stated, We find a positive and faith-filled way through the world, the flesh and the devil.

May all beings be seen, held kindly, and loved.

[Photo by Donna Eby, Chihuly, Cheekwood, Tennessee]

Offered by Donna Eby, photographer bound for Bethlehem.

Readings: Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11; Psalm 126; I Thessalonians 5:16-24; John 1:6-8, 19-28

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me;

he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort those who mourn;

to provide for those who mourn in Zion – to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.

They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, to display his glory. They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations. [Isaiah 61:1-4, NRSV]

It’s one of the best lines from the Belushi/Aykroyd comedy, The Blues Brothers. A scary nun charges Jake and Elwood Blues with saving the orphanage, but doesn’t say how. So they go to the greatest church service in Chicago (The Old Landmark), seeking inspiration; in the middle of James Brown’s preaching/singing, Jake sees the light and finds his mission: save the orphanage by getting the band back together. Several amazing musical numbers later, by means legal and illegal, Jake and Elwood do just that. Then they go to jail – the consequence of their questionable means to a holy end.

The movie works as a comedy because Jake and Elwood aren’t exactly choir boys, or the best and brightest the world has to offer. They just happen to be the ones God appointed to the task. But if you take out the musical numbers, car chases, and colorful psychos, it’s pretty much your run-of-the-mill mission from God.

God doesn’t waste epiphanies: they have a purpose. Seeing the light is just the beginning of a divine mission. If it doesn’t lead anywhere, it’s just so much theatrics and self-congratulation. And the mission isn’t glamorous or all that interesting; the work is hard, it doesn’t usually bring more wealth or social status, and thanks may never be given. But it is holy.

To proclaim good news to those who need it most, to ease the burdens of those who are in desperate need of help and hope, to rebuild what tragedy and tempest has destroyed: that is why God anoints.

Worship with great joy and enthusiasm. Be ready to see the light. Then head out on your mission from God. It may cost you something, but isn’t it worth it?

https://youtu.be/jGv1j4fTktg

Readings: Psalm 126; Habakkuk 3:13-19; Matthew 21:28-32

Though the fig tree does not blossom and no fruit is on the vines; though the produce of the olive fails and the field yields no food; though the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights. [Habakkuk 3:17-19,NRSV]

Habakkuk was a prophet in the late seventh and early sixth centuries BCE. It was a time of great turmoil in Jerusalem and of many great injustices in the world. In many ways like in our own world, the question arises, “Where is God’s justice?” Why do the poor suffer while the powerful go unpunished for their misdeeds? Why do bad things happen to good people? Perhaps we ask the wrong questions. Is it up to us to criticize God? Or is it possible that there is something else going on?

Perhaps we have a role in bringing God’s kingdom into our world. Over and over again, in both the Old and New Testaments, we are reminded that our God wills a world of righteousness and justice, a world with compassion for the poor and the sick, a world of peace and love. Sometimes we are depressed by what we see in the events of our time. We feel helpless to make things better. Habakkuk foresaw great troubles coming to Jerusalem in the form of warring nations. He knew that times were going to be rough. “YET I will rejoice in the God of my salvation!”

There are times in our own lives when we feel helpless. We do not have control over what is happening. Jobs are lost. Relationships fail. Illness consumes us or someone we love. YET, in all of the sadness and violence, God is beside us, loving us, guiding us, helping us. As we look back on some of the dark times in our life, so often we see God at work picking up the pieces for us and helping us get through to a brighter side of the darkness.

And there is the answer: God, Jesus, Holy Spirit, with us always. In the darkness or the light, as Julian of Norwich reminds us All shall be well.

Lord Jesus, let our minds rest in your Word, so that when doubt and grief would overwhelm us, faith will open our eyes to see your hand at work in our life and enable us to turn toward the future with hope and toward each other in perfect charity. A Prayer from St. Augustine.

Offered by Marge O’Brien, Reposted from 2014. Marge passed out of this life and into the arms of God a few years ago. I am so grateful for her words, and even more grateful for knowing her.

Readings: Psalm 126; Habakkuk 2:1-5; Philippians 3:7-11

{If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. }Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ.  More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith.  I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death,  if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.               [Philippians 3:4b-11, NRSV]

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Do remember how you answered that question when you were a child? Most people don’t know this about me, but for the longest time when I was asked that question, I didn’t hesitate: I want to be a race car driver. That dream lasted well into my teen years. I remember with great fondness Mario Andretti’s win at Indy in 1969; he became my favorite driver after that. I was totally smitten by the old Steve McQueen movie Le Mans when it came out a couple of years later. I had a classic racing jacket that I barely took off. My best friend and I knew that we would have to learn how to work on and build engines if we wanted to get into the motor sports game, so we started tinkering with the Briggs and Stratton on my dad’s lawnmower. It turns out that he wasn’t too happy about that. I had large Richard Petty and STP stickers all over the wall of my room, much to my mother’s chagrin, but I was in it for the long haul. Like many young boys, I guess I loved the glamour and the fast cars. Truth be told, I still love fast cars, though I have never owned one. Last year I went to see Ford vs. Ferrari (and loved it by the way) as a way of playing with my old dreams.

The older I get the more I realize that it is a real blessing that we love what we do, but in the end, it is all quite temporary and fleeting. The Apostle Paul had it made by any standard of measurement one might want to apply. He was well educated, powerful, respected, well-known and connected; yet, in the end, none of that defined who he was. Yet, whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ, he wrote. I wonder how long it took him to figure that out. I think there comes a time for all of us when we realize that our lives are short and nothing we do or touch has the innate ability to last forever.

“More than that,” Paul continued, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him…

As I reflect on my life during this Advent season, I realize that we all inevitably hitch our wagons to something.  What lurks beneath that choice is the deep desire that, whatever it is we decide, we want it to mean something, we want it to last. Paul made his choice. He hitched his wagon to his deep-seated trust that Jesus alone can bring meaning and an eternal perspective. We most certainly don’t cherish such a thing when we are ten years old, and neither did Paul, but I pray that I might spend some time this Advent figuring out just what I have hitched my wagon to and where it is leading me. Perhaps you would like to join me. Amen.

Offered by Dave Fredrickson, spiritual director on the road to Bethlehem.

Readings: Psalm 27; Malachi 2:10-3:1; Luke 1:5-17

Then there appeared to Zechariah an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified; and fear overwhelmed him. But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord…Zechariah said to the angel, “How will I know that this is so? For I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.” The angel replied, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. But now, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time, you will become mute, unable to speak, until the day these things occur.” [ Luke 1:11-14, 18-20, NRSV]

I’ve lived long enough to know that it takes courage to tell anyone when I get a glimpse of God’s love, and how that love can change everything. There just aren’t words to do such things justice, and there aren’t many who would believe them if there were. How much harder would it be to speak of an angel’s visit? Of a child who would be born well past childbearing years? Of a son who would be keenly aware of God’s love and holiness, and equally aware of the waywardness of the human soul? Of the one who would recognize and baptize God-With-Us?

Perhaps the angel didn’t remove Zechariah’s speech as a punishment, but as a kindness. Until his son arrived, until he saw it come true in the flesh, until he could say these words with conviction, he wouldn’t have to say them at all:

I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  [Psalm 27:13, NRSV]

Readings: Psalm 27; Isaiah 4:2-6; Acts 11:1-18

“At that very moment three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man’s house. He told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, ‘Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; he will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.’ And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning…If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?” [Acts 11:11-17, NRSV]

Every year, my father’s mother gave him the same Christmas gift: underwear. When I asked her why, she just said that it saved him the trouble of buying something that was important but not particularly fun. Other every-single-year gifts she gave: a AAA membership renewal, the latest Hallmark ornament in the series, and maple sugar candy. Everyone knew these were somewhere under the tree, or in an envelope among the tree’s branches. There were always other gifts for my father and the other recipients of these perennial presents, but I can’t recall them. It’s only the repeated gifts I remember.

That’s true of the gifts my sister and I got for Christmas, too. The years that we got the same thing (1976: gauchos and matching sweaters; 2010: crock pot; 2019: battery operated flickering candles, complete with a remote control) I recall, the others I do not. There’s something about seeing someone else gifted with the same thing that insures that it sticks in my memory.

Perhaps that’s why it was so important for Peter to see the Caesareans receiving the same thing he and his friends got from God: he’d remember it. The vision of a banquet coming down from heaven may not have stuck if it hadn’t been followed by Peter seeing someone else get the same gift he got. If God gave the same Spirit to strangers with foreign ways, then God must love them as much as friends who share the same customs and beliefs. Same gift=same regard.

Maybe seeing someone with the same gift makes it not just possible but likely that I will not hinder God’s plans. Perhaps I’ll even dare to help.

Readings: Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13; Isaiah 40:1-11; 2 Peter 3:8-15a; Mark 1:1-8

Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.

A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.

Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” [Isaiah 40:1-5, NRSV]

The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news. [Mark: 1:15, NRSV]