Over the course of my life, I’ve prayed countless prayers. “Help. Thanks. Yes! Wow! How long?” and “Why?” are just a few. I have prayed these prayers in the silence of my heart, while weeping at the bedside of friends and family, and in public places all over the globe. Looking back, I can say that often undergirding these prayers is a deep, abiding sense that no outcome is fixed, that God is as engaged in real time with what’s happening as I am, and that often all I have is the hope that what God has said is true; namely, that no matter what I face, I will never walk alone. If you’re anything like me, maybe you too have come to realize that where our feet are planted is often the hardest place to pray. Our minds often get stuck somewhere between the experiences we’ve had and the things we most hope for. But to pray in the now, to be here, to open ourselves all over again to the possibility of divine intervention – that is the holy stuff of faith – tested, proved, and ever being worked out in real time. This dance of hope, real life, and prayer is one of the reasons why I’m a Christian. Without an incarnational and God-can-be-God kind of faith, my spiritual practices and ego would get trapped, rushing forward to thinking the outcomes of my prayers depend on me. But my baptismal priesthood and my vocational priesthood call me to let my prayers be shaped not only by life itself but by life in very specific times and places with faith in a God who can fill them all over again. I wonder, if you pause and look around, or maybe close your eyes and just listen with your heart, what prayer are you yearning to speak today? What are the desires of your heart, or the lament of your soul, or the dreams yet unspoken? What might a prayer sound like that trusts you are not alone and that God can open a way? Try it. Y’all, we know that God is not a God of quick fixes or easy answers. AND, we can and should always pray for the miraculous. After all, if the Bible and the Church stand as witnesses to the presence of a Living God, what else do we really have, other than our faith, our community, and hope in a movement of God’s Spirit yet to be revealed? Amen.
At the most recent vestry meeting, parishioner and vestry member Laurie Howell offered this wonderful and thought-provoking devotion. I’m grateful for her reminder about how our weekly experience of worship calls us to wake up to the reality of God moving in the world and how sometimes re-imagining our beloved words of worship can help us to do just that! Enjoy. I have a confession to make. I often zone out during church. Yes, I do. I said it. I zone out during various points in the service, but I am almost guaranteed to zone out as we recite the Nicene Creed. I think it was during Christian Essentials when our group spent an evening pondering just how surprising it is that we so quickly profess that Jesus was born of a Virgin, was crucified, died, was buried, and then He rose again. We can all recite the rest of the creed. The question for me after saying it is: What do I DO with my faith in this Jesus who was born, crucified, died, and then rose again? What do I do out there in this world where there is so much pain, loss, death, destruction, division, war, violence, and suffering? Some of you may remember that Bishop Sam read from the Prayer Book of the Anglican Church of Brazil during his recent visit for confirmations. Here are the words from the Brazilian profession of faith: We believe in GOD We believe in the gifts of poor people In the audacity of the poets In the boldness of the prophets In the inspiration of the artists We believe in JESUS We believe in the humility to serve In the courage to change In the joy of celebration In the respect of differences In bread for every table In comfort for every sadness We believe in the SPIRIT We believe in the hope to begin again In the beauty of solidarity In justice for every oppression In compassion in the face of pain In love, the human divine gift. I don’t know about you, but I was really floored by these words. They are so meaningful to me; and instructive too. I can recite those words and wonder: Am I recognizing and looking for the gifts of poor people? Am I paying attention to the poets and their audacity? How do the prophets speak boldly to me? What artists in my life inspire me? Do I show humility when I serve? Do I have the courage to change? Do I believe that others can change? Do I show joy when I celebrate? How do I respect differences and encourage others to respect differences? Do I make sure there is bread at every table and appreciate the bread at my own? How do I honor and seek comfort for sadness? Do I look for the SPIRIT? Where is my hope in beginning again? With whom do I seek solidarity? How and when do I demand justice for oppression? When and how do I show compassion in the face of pain? And then there is LOVE. Do I remember daily that love is THE human-divine gift? I’ll be honest again and make another confession. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much I would prefer for us to recite these words on Sundays. Don’t worry, I am not attempting a liturgical coup here. I am simply exploring for myself how to pay better attention in church. The truth is it is my own work to focus on the words that we DO HAVE in our beautiful book of Common Prayer. So, I am going to try and improve my concentration on Sundays, and I am ALSO going to find a way to incorporate the instructive, meaningful words from the Anglican Prayer Book of Brazil into my own daily life. After all, church isn’t just on Sunday.
“So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another.” - Ephesians 4:25, NRSV “Let’s all stop lying and agree to speak the truth to each other. Because we belong to each other.” - God’s Words, My Voice (GWMV) This past Sunday’s reading from the Letter to the Ephesians got my attention, and it resonated with others as well. The version from GWMV is what we read at the blended service in All Saints’ Hall. I like how direct and non-churchy it is. The focus of the passage (Ephesians 4:25 – 5:2) is about how we are to live into the future, but predicated on a sure foundation: God’s promises from the past. How we live today, tomorrow, and beyond is our response to the grace, mercy, and love that God has shown us time and again. Our baptismal vows remind us that we are “marked as Christ’s own forever,” and that we are called to “respect the dignity of every human being.” Every human being, not just the ones we choose to call friend or neighbor or family. Why? Because, as the GWMV puts it, we belong to each other. This passage got my attention because it feels to me that our culture has reached a point where people often feel free to say whatever we want, no matter the consequences. No matter whether we have verified the veracity of something we are passing along on social media. No matter what harm it might do to relationships. No matter if it takes attacking the character of our ‘opponent’ or bending the data to fit our needs. I think P.T. Barnum is credited with saying, “If you say it often enough and loud enough, people will start to believe you.” As Christians, we face a challenge and an opportunity to speak the truth because we belong to each other, we are members of one another. Socrates, who lived about 500 years before both Jesus Christ and the author of the Letter to the Ephesians, said that before we speak, we should ask ourselves three questions: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary/helpful? I think both Jesus and the writer of Ephesians would agree. We can still disagree with someone without castigating them to outer darkness. We can enter into conversation with a heart open to becoming less rigid in our perspective. We can truly listen without already considering how we’re going to respond while the other person is still speaking. Even when we don’t see eye to eye, we can still see heart to heart. This world, this country, this city need our witness as Christians that truth matters. John Inazu, the Sally D. Danforth Distinguished Professor of Law and Religion at Washington University will be the Faith Forum guest on Sunday, October 6 at 10 am in All Saints’ Hall. He is the author of Learning to Disagree: The Surprising Path to Navigating Differences with Empathy and Respect. Join us for a series of book discussions on Wednesdays August 28, September 25, and October 9 at 7 pm in St. Francis A. May we all be able to feel more connected while still maintaining the strength of our convictions and our faith. +
“I could do anything I wanted.” My 17-year-old Goddaughter was in the middle of telling me about a 48-hour solo outdoor adventure spent without a watch and with minimal provisions on a beach in the Bahamas. I’d asked her how the time felt and what she did with it. This was her reply: “It was so fun to be alone because I could do anything I wanted.” She went on, “I dug a huge hole, and I collected trash and then built a boat, which actually sailed.” A hole? A boat? This was not how I expected the story to go. Further, the more I think of it, the more I realize that she was wrong – she couldn’t do everything she wanted. For these two days, she actually had less capability to do things than at any point in the past many years of her life. With nothing but time in God’s creation, she played. Each Wednesday at noon in our Healing Service and Eucharist, we say A Prayer for Quiet Confidence. It offers focus to those of us who won’t find ourselves on a 48-hour solo adventure. It strengthens us to respond to modern life’s relentless march toward more and more. It reminds us that finding time to play turns out to be a grand source of creativity and a reminder of the expansiveness of God’s creation. Let us pray: O God of peace, who hast taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and in confidence shall be our strength: By the might of thy Spirit lift us, we pray thee, to thy presence, where we may be still and know that thou art God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (BCP, p. 832) In this changing season, may you embrace moments of creativity. May you remember that God grants us the freedom to enjoy God’s creation and find joy in the simple things. May you rest in confidence that these spacious times offer us glimpses into the Kingdom of God.
The music I grew up with in church made a huge difference in how I knew God. And it makes a huge difference in how I know God today. Once a month, I would go to the Primitive Baptist Church with my grandmother, and it was the music from these Sundays that I realize has given me the grounding for the faith I have today. In the Primitive Baptist Church, we sang without instruments. You didn’t have to sing well, as long as you sang LOUD. For 30 minutes before the preaching started, we’d call out hymn numbers and the preacher would hum out the tune and the pitch before we all started together. And then after an hour or so of preaching, usually three or four preachers, we’d sing “Amazing Grace” and then get handshakes from old men who smelled like Vitalis and old women who smelled like perfume and Juicy Fruit. In that church, we sang loud. We sang songs out of a little hymn book without notation, just words of verse. And even though we were in the middle of nowhere in Alabama, the language was elevated – elevated with an honesty that rang clear as noon on a Southern January day: Jesus and Shall it ever be, A mortal man ashamed of thee! Ashamed of thee, whom angels praise, Whose glory shines through endless days. Ashamed of Jesus! sooner far Let evening blush to own a star; He sheds the beams of light o’er this benighted soul of mine. These songs told the truth. And the truth is that sometimes, we ARE ashamed of Jesus, or at least of our faith. The truth is that we DO struggle. My favorite song, partly because it’s so wonderful, and partly because it was my grandma’s favorite: How tedious and tasteless the hours when Jesus no longer I see sweet prospect, sweet birds, and sweet flowers, have all lost their sweetness to me. The midsummer sun shines but dim the fields strive in vain to look gay But when I am happy in him December’s as pleasant as May There’s the truth: sometimes we DO lose sight of Jesus. Sometimes, it does feel as though our God is gone and left us. My grandmother and her friends at that little church sang about a faith that endured, a faith that felt infinitely more believable to me. They knew sometimes I would feel adrift, and I had only to sing of my lostness to God. I didn’t have to beg forgiveness for getting lost in the first place. Faith is a gift. I know that because I’ve never gone looking for faith. In fact, I’ve come up with plenty of reasons to leave it behind. When I think hard enough or long enough, I can find plenty of reasons to leave the whole thing behind. But in the early morning dark, or sometimes in the dead of the night, I stumble over something or see it shining in the corner. It’s the love of my grandmother years after she died. It’s hope when I’ve no right to expect it. It’s forgiveness when I didn’t even ask. It’s faith. Faith is a gift. We all have difficult jobs: our offices, our parenting, our day-to-day. But even by virtue of our baptism, every one of us has a difficult job: we’re all doing our part to preach grace into a hurting and broken world. I’ll invite you to join me in this: let’s not overcomplicate it by trying to have so many answers about God. God forgives. We are raised to new life. There is plenty, plenty of grace for us all. That’s about all there is to know. I’ll leave you to listen to the following: https://alabamaastronaut.com/track/3189849/3-endless-supply. It’s a song called “Endless Supply” by the Coots Duo. Charles and the band were gracious enough to learn it and play it this past week when we read about Jesus and the feeding of the 5,000. This song is about that miracle, but it’s also about the miracle of a simple faith, even when life isn’t so simple.
The fifteen contestants showed up at ABC studios at 6:30 a.m. We were escorted to the Green Room where we each waited for our turn to try to win $1,000,000. In the Green Room, we were left with our thoughts and each other. Small talk ensued, and strangers became friends. One by one, the contestants left the Green Room and headed to the studio. We'd all shout, "Good luck!", (and we meant it). My turn came around 2:30 p.m. The remaining contestants said, "You've got this!", "Go out there and win!", "Good luck!" As I was being escorted to the studio, the ABC page said, "Just know the audience is cheering you on." Before the recording started, Meredith Viera said, "Okay, Scottie, all of these people want you to win! So, relax and have fun." These wonderful nuggets of encouragement were more valuable to me than the money I won on “Who Wants to be a Millionaire.” Life is certainly not a game show. However, we are presented with stressors every day that may cause a wobble in our confidence or make us question our decisions. The challenges we face can sometimes be overwhelming. In 1 Thessalonians 5:11, Paul’s call to action (not a simple suggestion) is “to encourage one another and build each other up.” Encouragement is more than just offering kind words. It’s about fostering hope, inspiring faith, and building up others on their journey. It’s a deliberate act of kindness and support that strengthens the heart and soul. Encouragement can come in many forms: words, deeds, or a simple presence. It plays a crucial role in the lives of those around us. In Hebrews 10:24-25, we read, “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another – and all the more as you see the day approaching.” Community is vital to our faith journey. In a world where we can easily become isolated, regular communion with others provides support and a sense of belonging. Encouragement has a ripple effect. When we encourage someone, it often inspires them to pass that encouragement on to others. This chain reaction creates a community of support and love, where everyone is built up and strengthened. Spreading positivity and support are small acts of encouragement that can lead to significant transformations. How often have you heard someone say, “I will keep you in my prayers”? That’s a form of encouragement. When someone says, “I’m so happy to see you,” or “How kind of you,” or any number of other affirming words. Encouragement. Christ Church is wonderful at reaching out to each other and to the larger community through acts of service. Encouragement. Offering to listen to someone without judgement. Yes, encouragement. As you progress through the day, imagine all the people who are pulling for you. Let someone know you're pulling for them too. You’ve got this!
Each week, a member of the Christ Church staff begins our weekly staff meeting with a devotion. This week's contribution by Administrative Assistant for Worship & Liturgy Emily Skinner had us all smiling: Change is a funny thing. You can deliberately ask for it, make it happen yourself, even prepare for it, but it can also come completely out of your control, without warning, in unimaginable ways. As many of you know, the main thing that has recently changed in my life is becoming a mom. I am the ultimate overthinker, and just about a year ago, I was searching for signs from God to help in my indecision to pick a name for my baby girl. I began to doubt myself anytime I got close to choosing one. I was overwhelmed by the pressure of the decision and became comfortable in my indecision and continued to stretch it out as long as I could. It became a game-time decision when we were filling out the birth certificate form two hours after she was born. I looked at her and felt a pull towards the name Shiloh. I had always loved the beauty and uniqueness of the name, but I still hoped it was the “correct” choice, waiting for a sign from the universe, God, anyone, that I was making the right decision. Thankfully, it didn’t take much time for me to fully embrace the name as I got to know my baby Shiloh. And I convinced myself I never needed a tangible or obvious sign from God to choose my daughter’s name. If Cole and I were happy with it and our baby was healthy, nothing else really mattered. But I believe God has a funny way of telling us things. The day we came home from the hospital, my mom was changing Shiloh’s diaper and said, “It says her name!” I was so confused – was there something on her skin? Something funky in her diaper? What was she talking about? Mom looked up and pointed at the diaper and said it again. Sure enough, printed on the diaper was the name Shiloh. I was stunned! You may already know this, but it was major news to me that day – Pampers have little characters on them, an elephant and a duckling named Shiloh and Freddie, and their pictures and names are printed on most of their diapers. I know this has nothing directly to do with my Shiloh. Pampers did not name their character after her, but I have never met another Shiloh, and of all the names in the world these two animal characters could have, this discovery felt special to me. To this day, when I pull out a diaper with Shiloh’s name, I pause and smile. This little moment takes me back to the first day we came home from the hospital. I look back at who I was then and who I am now, how much has changed, and how truly thankful I am for this life and this growing chunk of a baby. I don’t feel wrong in saying that this coincidence was a sign from God. I am not saying that He put the name Shiloh in the brain of the Pampers animal creator and me for this reason, but I do think that God has helped me create this sentimental reminder between the name printed on the diaper and the small human I am raising. I will always be reminded of where we started and where we are headed. It aids in my confidence that I chose the perfect name for my baby and reminds me of the privilege I feel in being her mom, which is so much of what I longed for leading up to her birth. God really does work in mysterious ways! One of the reasons I fell in love with the name Shiloh was for the meaning attached to it. In Hebrew it translates as “gift from God” or “peaceful one.” About a month after Shiloh was born, my husband, Cole, showed me his daily devotional reading, which that day was focused on scripture about Shiloh. Seeing this unexpected reminder again felt more like a sign than a coincidence, like one of those “God winks” reminding me that He is watching, He knows what He’s doing, has my best interest at heart, and trusts me to believe in Him and His plans. If you’ve had a child, you know that it takes more than a few days to recover and figure out your new normal. A month in, Cole and I still felt like we were in the trenches with a combination of no sleep and cluelessness. But no matter how lost, confused, or emotional I felt, I knew God was watching over us and our Shiloh and would help us see this phase through. I still feel like I am learning something new about being a mom every day, but I can look back at those early weeks and how fast they flew by. I blinked and my tiny 6-pound baby is now a rolling, babbling, giggly 20 pounder. Indecision, unknowing change, wonder, and growth all seem to sum up this last year for me. I am proud of the way I can reflect now and feel the growth and newfound confidence I have in myself and my new normal. I begged for clarity on a name and confidence in being a mom in a time that felt so scary and unknowing. I can see so clearly now how God has led and shaped me into the person and mom that I am today.
Like many of you, I’ve had a stick in my hand for a long time. Indeed, some of my earliest memories of both golf and God come from walking around in God‘s original cathedral — nature — or if you really pressed my grandfather, the golf course. Some of my earliest memories of connecting to God come from prayers that my grandmother and I would pray on her tee box, where my grandfather insisted that I tee off in order to help with pace of play or, as he would say, “to try to keep things down the middle.” Indeed, until I was probably 11, my grandfather always insisted that if I couldn’t hit a fairway with a five iron, I need not take any other club out of the bag. My friends, I don’t know about you, but the older I get, the more challenging it is to keep things down the middle. The game of life (and golf) seems to get strangely more complicated with each passing year. We have bigger goals or lower scores, expectations, distractions, or hardships that come our way. Indeed, over time, even our bodies, these flesh and bone temples of God’s spirit, begin to make it a little more challenging for us to trust and see that the abundant life Jesus so often preached is still within our reach. I’m here to tell you that Jesus didn’t want life with God to be this complicated. JESUS had one simple suggestion for his disciples, one “swing thought,” and it was an invitation to abide. In John’s gospel, having washed the disciples’ feet and served them a last supper, Jesus prayed for his friends and reminded them that, like a vine attached to its source, the way of following him in the world was the way of abiding. Jesus said, “Abide in me… And I will abide in you…and through God, you will bear much fruit.” Friends, Jesus knew the challenges of abiding his disciples would face, and they were not that different from ours. His prayer and his hope was that they might remember: When things are going well, or we are on a roll, the invitation is to abide. When questions overwhelm and grief, loss, and tragedy come close, the invitation is to abide. When the bounces of life (golf) don’t go our way or we lose confidence in our ability to can get up and face it all over again, the invitation is to abide. Growing up in Alabama, my mom hosted a charity golf event for the Alabama Institute for the Deaf & Blind. One of my favorite people to watch was a pro by the name of Charlie Boswell. While Charlie had 28 titles to his name, there was one thing that distinguished him from most of his peers. Charlie, having been injured serving in the armed forces, was legally blind. Yet Charlie played golf quite successfully for many years with the help of a sighted caddy. I can remember following Charlie‘s group and I can see his caddy standing next to him, getting his body oriented in the right direction, telling him the distance, and the wind and the break and the hazards that were in front of them. Charlie’s caddy would give him all the data he needed and Charlie would choose a club, slowly make his turn and send the ball through the air. As the ball landed – often pretty near where they’d planned – they would grab each other arm-in-arm and walk down the fairway to play the ball wherever it lay. Y’all, if we are honest, we are all walking a little bit blind through this life with one another and with God. The good news of the gospel is that, like Charlie’s caddy who was there every step of the way, Jesus promised we would never be on this journey alone — that arm-in-arm we would be able to play the course of life in front of us with God at our side. Ok, I can hear you asking, well tell us then, how do we abide? Well, it’s as simple as G.O.L.F: G: Get grounded – Abiding means creating places in your life to hear the spirit speaking to you. Read scripture, pray, be still, as the psalmist suggested, and remember that God is God and you are not. O: Open your heart/eyes – We may be a little blind, but the signs of grace and God’s presence are all around us. Remember that we see now, as Paul said, through a glass dimly, but we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. L: Listen – God never said hardship would not come, only that God would be with us. We have to create moments in our lives where we can drown out the noise and hear what the Spirit is saying. F: Find fellowship – Find your cathedral, church, or small group. Don’t walk this journey of life alone. Find a group of people who can encourage you in your faith and know that prayer matters. Check in on those you love and remember, it’s OK to not be OK, but it is not OK to believe you have to do life alone. Yes friends, the wisdom of abiding is really as simple as GOLF. God’s will for us is that we might experience the abundance of what can be by walking with Jesus to bear the fruit of God‘s kingdom on this earth. Abide in Christ my friends, and Christ will abide in you, and you will never walk alone. AMEN.
Where will you go this summer? The Fourth of July has me thinking about trips and travel and vacation - time away built into our national calendar. Whether we are going to grandma’s house for homemade ice cream or traveling across the world - summer has us thinking about different ways to spend our days and what we might find when we get to our destination. I happen to love a long trip! Sure, getting away for a long TIME is great, but a long DISTANCE means seeing new things, tasting new foods, and getting a different perspective on life. Whether it’s a vacation or a pilgrimage, there’s plenty of planning that goes into the destination: where we’ll go, what we’ll experience, and even marking restaurants that I hope to enjoy on Google Maps. It all changes in the final week or so before a trip, when I find myself focused on the journey itself, on the travel required to get to my destination. What do I need to stay comfortable? Is my airplane pillow still up to the task? What clothes will I wear on the plane that feel like pajamas but don’t look like I just rolled out of bed!? We recently had our first gathering for the pilgrims who will go to Italy this fall, journeying in the way of peace that St. Francis calls us to through his life and witness. Over dinner, I talked to the group a little bit about the transformative power of the three types of journeys we can take: travel, vacation, and pilgrimage. We can travel for work. My dad did it 4-6 days a week for my whole childhood. Travel is the logistics of getting from one place to another. Travel is the boring part, the hard part, the monotonous part: security lines and the long white-line of the highway, interrupted only by fast-food and “are we there yet?”. We learn about ourselves in the crucible of travel, and we learn A LOT about those we travel with! Vacation is the bucket-list, the seeking after a new experience, hoping to learn something about the world. We all need a vacation sometimes. And we find ourselves transformed - by time away, by new sights and foods, by the restoration of our souls when we participate in God’s Sabbath. Any parent of young children will tell you that when you go to the beach with a three year old, you really aren’t on vacation, you’re just traveling - taking your routine on the road for a change of scenery. And still it’s worthwhile, even when it’s hard. There are transformative moments even for the young families carting 80 pounds of stuff in a beach wagon across the sand. Pilgrimage is different still. We can take a pilgrimage in All Saints’ Hall when we walk the labyrinth. Pilgrimage is when we take a journey, not to learn about another place, but to learn about ourselves. Where will you go this summer? My hope is that you will be on the lookout for the unexpected pilgrimage you are being called to take. It might be walking a circuit, gate to gate, during a frustrating airport delay; it could be the moment you put down your book or your phone to simply watch the waves crash as they have done and will do with no help from us; or perhaps in your own back yard, dragging the hose around and pondering the mystery of plants that were dormant for months, now greedy for the same water that refreshes us. Where will you go this summer? Far or near, wherever you go, God is with you.
With creativity and vision, the Christ Church Children’s Ministry Team crafted this summer’s Vacation Bible School (VBS) “Builders Edition.” This week, 200 “builders” of every age are gathering to strengthen the foundation of their faith with songs, stories, games, and service projects. Inspired by VBS and by campus construction, Christ Church Director of Music Ben Outen shared this reflection on tools for constructing faith. Ben writes: Christ Church’s new building will be a container for the growth of our offerings in the parish and to the city. During the recent capital and ministries campaign, I heard someone say, “We build buildings and buildings build us.” More specifically, I would say, we create space where we can be with God to realize our potential as individuals and community. We can respond to the goodness of God by being the hands of God in a never-ending building project whose purpose is, not completion, but the continuous love of our unique selves and each other. We have tools – metaphorical hammers, saws, screwdrivers, and bulldozers – to help us craft, renew, and strengthen our spiritual selves and increase our capacity to love: We have scripture to help guide us and the discernment to understand its truths. We have prayer, a direct line to the God, whose Holy Spirit lives within our “temples.” We also have The Book of Common Prayer which puts into words things we may not even be able to say. We have community. People all around us inspire us, nurture us, mentor us, challenge us, show us the way, and walk with us. We belong, and in belonging, we find strength for ourselves and the opportunity to welcome others. We have faith. Hebrews 11:1 defines faith as “confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” We serve and we receive. By serving others, we show gratitude for what God has done for us. We become God’s love in action. The theme song for VBS is “Strong Within.” I invite you to listen to it. (It's in the Just for Kids section of the app). Perhaps we can learn again from the children around and within us. Let us pray: Great God, thank you for the inspiration we find all around us. Thank you for the tools with which we move through the mysteries of life. Thank you for the practical purpose of being a part of the interconnectedness of your vast imagination. AMEN.
Spoiler alert: I will be issuing you a challenge by the end of this e-devotion. For some of you, the challenge may be just to finish reading this once you discover the topic: Juneteenth. Hopefully you are reading this on June 19th, or Juneteenth as it has become known. This year, we are hearing more about our newest national holiday than ever before. I hope it is because more people are embracing the thinking and sentiment behind it. More people are acknowledging the inequities and disparities that have long characterized our common life together. There are https://files.constantcontact.com/4999ff67001/f8b8695d-f9b1-4f3b-a13c-4189bcfb0c41.pdf for you to learn more about the origins and observance of Juneteenth, so this e-devotion isn’t about that. Instead, it’s some thoughts on how I find this opportunity so expansive and life-giving. The older I get, the more I realize how much more there is to our rich history as a country (and really, well, the whole world). I’ve done some quilting over the years. Most of the quilts I have sewn utilize long-established, traditional patterns: bear’s paw, double wedding ring, flying geese, etc. And they’ve been made with fairly traditional materials – pieces of old clothing, scraps from other projects, or contemporary colors and patterns on traditional cotton. That’s how I think about the history I was taught: traditional, defined stories and facts deemed by a relative and powerful few to be what is noteworthy, memorable or important. My very favorite kind of quilt, though, is a crazy quilt, so named because it is a wonderfully helter-skelter, no-consistent-rhyme-or-reason medley (or mash-up, depending upon your perspective) of colors, textures, shapes, and embellishments. Velvets next to tie silks; granny smith apple green next to Royal Stewart tartan; chicken track stitches meld into vines with buds. Each element brings its own history, beauty and gifts to the whole without being subsumed or degraded. In crazy quilts, there is a richness, a depth and texture, a beauty, that is more than the sum of the parts. It’s messy, but I believe that’s who and how we are as the people of God. I believe that’s who and how we are as the people who share the history of this country. Merriam Webster defines “expansive” as “characterized by richness, abundance, or magnificence.” Why do we need this national observance? To remind ourselves that our mutual flourishing, our communal wellbeing, is not yet a reality, and that it depends on recognizing the richness, abundance, and magnificence of every person, every child of God. One of my seminary professors was part of a group that met each morning for a week or so with the Archbishop of Canterbury. Each day, the archbishop asked them a question to consider. One of those questions was, "If anyone is in hell, can any of us be in heaven?" I would expand that to ask, "If anyone is not truly free because of poverty, public policies, or prejudices, can any of us be truly free?" My challenge for you: While some of the activities for Juneteenth happened this past weekend, there are still https://files.constantcontact.com/4999ff67001/1730e17c-2840-4c3f-bae2-f5364bdc1a9e.pdf. Step a little (or a lot) outside of your comfort zone. Step in with (as we say in our baptismal covenant) an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love God, and the gift of joy and wonder in all God’s works. And mark your calendar for next year. +
Have you ever had one of those days that is impossibly full? Have you ever looked at your calendar for the next day and felt that pit in your stomach as you see each time block filled with a commitment? Those days when your feet hit the ground and you accelerate to meet the pace of your calendar until you are back in bed at night. Maybe this happens to you every day. We can survive such days now and then. We can even string a few together when it is called for. Think exam week in college or residency in medical school or those first weeks with a newborn baby. This is not how we are meant to live. And yet, our current zeitgeist is marked by this frantic, frenetic fullness for almost everyone. (How are you doing? Busy!) Jesus said that to live this way is to be heavy laden. He compared it to walking around with a weighted vest and two dumbbells in your hands and wondering why you feel weighed down. He said that many people are trapped laboring and carrying heavy burdens. Does that sound like anyone you know? Jesus diagnosed the problem: people are weighed down by the expectations that have been put on them. We are all struggling to be enough. We all feel the pressure to be the best we can be in every aspect of our lives. Our culture (or family or self-judgement) tells us that we should give 100% to everything we do. The trouble, of course, is that we can’t give our all to more than one thing. No one has more than 100% to give. We are finite creatures with finite time and finite focus. That doesn’t stop us from trying until our days are impossibly full and we can’t stand to check our calendar to see the script for tomorrow’s striving. Like a good physician, Jesus diagnoses the problem and offers a prescription. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30) The solution is Jesus. Start your day with Him before the train of anxiety leaves the station. Read the Gospels before you read the news and hear Jesus's deep desire to free people (that includes you) from their burdens. Schedule prayer and rest like your life depends on it because it does. Pray to know the grace, mercy, and tenderness of Jesus whose heart is impossibly full of love for workaholics, people-pleasers, and over-committers like you and me.
I’ve officially reached the stage in my parenting journey where my kids are making music recommendations to me. While I have done my best to curate a broad range of musical listen-tos, they are now enjoying the discovery of new genres and artists all by themselves. One assistant in this journey has been Alexa, who is able to play songs of any particular type as my kids explore. Recently, my son called me into his room, saying, “Dad you’ve got to hear this! You are going to love it!” Then he said, “Alexa, play ‘Where I find God’ by Larry Fleet." As I laid on the floor in Gav‘s bedroom listening to a song I had not heard in some time, I found myself deeply moved. There were times when he was already singing the chorus. The heart of this very country song is to be reminded of God’s nearness when we are looking, when we are living, and when we are not. The summer months often bring travel or new rhythms to our experience of God’s nearness, and at Christ Church, they also bring a change in our worship schedule. Our regular services in the Church are at 8:30 am, 10:30 am, and 5 pm. In All Saints' Hall, we are blending our contemporary and Discovery worship styles on the second and fourth Sundays at 10:30 am. While you may have a regular service that you attend, I encourage you this summer to give yourself the grace of looking for and experiencing God not only in all the ordinary places and spaces you go, but also in new forms of worship, either on site or via our online streaming options (visit our website). On July 14 I invite you to a special outdoor summer worship experience: Church at the Farm. Here we will get out and away from the hum and buzz of the city and find a time of community and prayer with one another while enjoying activities in God’s creation. It will be special, and you certainly don’t want to miss it. Visit our website to register. As I thought the song was ending, Gav reached over, touched my arm and excitedly said, “Listen, listen.” Fleet sang: “Sometimes late at night, I lie there and listen To the sound of her heart beatin' And the song the crickets are singin' And I don't know what they're sayin' But it sounds like a hymn to me Naw, I ain't too good at prayin' But thanks for everything.” As the verse ended, he looked at me wide-eyed, and simply said…"CHILLS!” Friends, I look forward to seeing you again sometime soon, and hearing about the places on your journey where you have felt the resonant “chills” of God in your life. May the eyes and ears of your heart and life be opened and may God appear near anew. Plotting goodness- Joshua+
When I was growing up, there was always something to do at my grandparent’s house. Grass to cut, weeds to trim, vegetables to tend, and always some project to make the place a little easier for two aging grandparents. But no matter how much there was to do, we never did any of it on Sunday. I couldn’t understand why: after all, the whole family was already there, we all had the day off, and so why shouldn’t we get a little done? Because my grandma said so. Sunday was the Lord’s Day, a day for church, and dinner, and naps. Us boys could play as much football as we wanted; the adults could play as much Rook as the day would allow; but we were not allowed to do any work of any kind. Period. The older I got, the more frustrating this became. There were things I wanted to help my grandmother with. There were things that needed doing, and I didn’t always have time to come back during the week to help out: I had classes to attend, or tennis matches on Saturday morning. It didn’t matter – none of it. If helping her was important to me, then I would find time for it one of the other six days, but we had to take a Sabbath and we had to keep it holy. That part wasn’t up for discussion. For so many of us, taking some time for rest seems holy because it’s such a luxury, not because we have made it a priority. For most of us, the idea that rest is holy because we organize everything else around it, well that’s a foreign concept. But even the most casual reader of the Bible, the one who picks it up and reads for ten minutes during a boring sermon, will see that rest was not an afterthought. Rest is right there in Chapter 1. Sabbath is non-negotiable – whatever else is important to us, we’re supposed to make time for rest. It’s just after Memorial Day, and you likely have a vacation planned. I certainly do. Enjoy your vacation! Taking a little time away seems like it should be the most natural thing in the world, but there’s always something grabbing at you, something that just has to get done yesterday. As your priest, I’m here to tell you, “That is the voice of temptation; don’t listen!” Instead, take a deep breath sometime while you’re gone. Take a deep breath and wonder for a minute at all you have seen happen in your life, the petty and the redemptive, the ridiculous and the sublime, the emptiness and the holiness. Take just a minute and thank God for where you’ve been and ask God where you might be headed. Take a deep breath and ask yourself how you can make time for rest every week, every day, not just on vacation. What keeps us from resting? What keeps us from taking our Sabbath? Probably the same thing that made me argue with my grandmother all those years ago: “If you don’t let us fix it on Sunday, there won’t be any time to fix it later!” In other words, “I’m afraid there’s not enough!” Maybe the hardest part of resting is believing that there is enough – that God has provided enough, and that we don’t have to be productive every minute of our lives. Grandma never would let us work on Sunday. And yet somehow, we always found time for what really needed doing. We cut the grass and weeded the garden and I got to have a glass of sweet tea with her on a random Thursday after class. Looking back, I’m proud of the faucets we replaced and the ceiling fans we hung in her house. But what I remember more than anything was that time I scored the winning touchdown, just as it was getting too dark to see. I remember the first time my grandma and I beat my cousin and my brother playing Rook. I’m proud of the work we did, but more, I’m glad she commanded us to rest.
In 2013, Robin Wall Kimmerer published a book called Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants. This book is part science, part sharing of her life story, and is mostly captivating, poetic prose. It is a book that I’m savoring – not rushing through – but trying to absorb each word and each image. In the chapter called “The Three Sisters,” she writes, “Plants tell their stories not by what they say, but by what they do.” She tells the story of the Three Sisters which are three seeds: corn, beans, and squash. For millennia in Indigenous agriculture, these three seeds would be planted together in the same square foot or patch of soil. Once established, corn comes out of the ground first, searching for light to grow up tall. Then, beans emerge to join the corn. She calls squash “the slow sister,” as she is the last to join and complete the trio. Kimmerer writes, “…each plant has its own pace and the sequence of their germination, their birth order, is important to their relationship and to the success of the crop.” Once together above ground, each of the sisters does her own thing for her own propagation, and that thing also beautifully serves the others. The Three Sisters abide together. Corn grows tall with a strong stalk being top priority. Beans start out growing low to the ground and when the corn stalk is ready, the bean vine redirects its growth upwards, supported by the stalk. Meanwhile, slow sister squash grows out over the ground away from the other two sisters. Sister squash’s wide leaves shelter the soil at the base of the corn and beans, keeping moisture in and other plants out. Kimmerer writes, “The organic symmetry of forms belongs together; the placement of every leaf, the harmony of shapes speak their message. Respect one another, support one another, bring your gifts to the world and receive the gifts of others, and there will be enough for all.” This sentiment about The Three Sisters rings true of Christ Church, Galilee Ministries of East Charlotte, and many other communities around the city that build bridges for the common good: respecting one another, supporting one another, bringing their gifts to the world, receiving the gifts of others, so there will be enough for all. Almighty God, we thank you for making the earth fruitful, so that it might produce what is needed for life: Bless those who work in the fields; give us seasonable weather; and grant that we may all share the fruits of the earth, rejoicing in your goodness; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. – Prayer for Agriculture, Book of Common Prayer, page 824 In service, Emily+