Meditations

Lent 2020

Children, have you caught anything to eat?

John 21: 1-6

After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish.

I learned as a child that fishing is just not my thing. While I could deal with putting the wiggly worm on the hook as a child (it repulses me now as an adult that such cruelty can be exercised on another living creature), fishing required too much preparation, waiting, patience, frustration and disappointment before that great acclamation of the catch – a journey not unlike we will soon embark during Holy Week. The seven disciples in this passage also share this same frustration and disappointment as they were out all night and have caught nothing. But why were they out fishing when they have previously seen the resurrected Jesus three times and are not out sharing this Good News? Perhaps it was to return to something familiar in their old way of life, needing to be together in community with each other, passion for the task of fishing or just simply needing to eat. What is holding us back from sharing the Good News because we too know of the resurrection and promise of new life as we have lived the Holy Week journey many times and know how this story ends?

These disciples were out on the sea in the middle of the night, facing their fears of the toil and perils of the rough and stormy passage ahead of them and feeling barren and hopeless, with no prospect of catching fish. During our current times of uncertainty and fear of the pandemic, social divisiveness, racism and intolerances, social injustices and all the other maladies swirling in our social and political stormy waters, I too can share these same feelings that the disciples must have been experiencing.

But the disciples hear the calming voice in the early morning light from the safety of the shore of “Friends, haven’t you any fish?”, perhaps representative of the dawning light of Christ (Easter Vigil come to mind, anyone?). The Greek word for friends (paidiai) is more literally translated into “children” or even “little children”. Using this translation brings in the familial relationship, much as a tender parent caring for his (or her) children. Jesus was speaking to his disciples with the care, compassion and kindness as children of God. It is this relationship of parent and child that brings us love, calmness and safety.

Jesus tell the disciples to cast their nets on the other side of the boat and they will find some fish. It is not a suggestion, but a promise. Consequently, they haul in many fish, more bountiful then needed. We too receive that same promise of God’s bounty which cannot be contained but must be shared.

How might we be more open and receptive, much like little children, for all to eat from that heavenly banquet by finding God in our lives, even in our most ordinary and mundane tasks? How might we respond with compassionate and kindness to those around, especially in these most unsettling of times, to transform this world? How might we too share the Good News of God’s promise and bounty?

Dan Mitchell

What are you talking about as you walk along?

Luke 24: 13-27

Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.” Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

Jesus came along the road when Cleopas and another disciple were talking about him. So, when Jesus asked them what they were talking about, they revealed that they were talking about Jesus of Nazareth, his crucifixion, and his missing from the tomb that morning. They did not recognize him until later in Luke’s gospel when they were breaking bread with him.

Jesus then began telling them of all of the scripture that he had fulfilled during his lifetime and into his death and resurrection. In other words, by engaging them in conversation by asking what they were talking about, Jesus was able to give them key information which would enable them to strengthen their faith, indeed, to believe.

This encounter has much significance. First, the Baptismal Covenant is a series of questions, one of Jesus’s own techniques. And the answers to the questions in the Baptismal Covenant are among the core beliefs of Christianity. Second, the Baptismal Covenant asks a very important specific question: “Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?” This question conveys a key Christian belief: that Christ is present (to a greater or lesser degree) in ALL persons, Christian or not. Just as the two disciples heading for Emmaus encounter Christ on the road, we potentially “encounter” Christ in any conversation we might have with another person. God speaks through us (all of us) and sometimes divine wisdom is imparted to us by another person and vice versa. We may even recognize this. For instance, we are all familiar with the expression, “Out of the mouths of babes . . . “. And while Christ sought out the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, it is up to us “to seek” out Christ “in all persons.” Third, it behooves us, at first, to realize that we may actually be having an “encounter with Christ” when we are communicating with another person, without them knowing it. We have probably all had such experiences. Conversely, at times, we are able to communicate thoughts, feelings, and beliefs of our own to the “Christ within” of another person. Who knows? Maybe during a conversation such as this, non-Christians are more open to evangelism than otherwise, another task God asks of us.

David Williams

My God, my God why have you forsaken me?

Mark 15: 33-39

When it was noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. At three o’clock Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, “Listen, he is calling for Elijah.” And someone ran, filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink, saying, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down.” Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, “Truly this man was God’s Son!”

Nowhere is Jesus more human than in this moment of agony and despair, utterly alone and hopeless. Jesus, made of flesh, suffers both the pain of his wounds and the pain of spiritual loneliness.

Who hasn’t had at least one moment of wrenching despair when the walls are crashing down, when the next step is impossible to conceive let alone attempt, when it feels as though no one understands your pain or wants to help you? Who in that instant has not asked God, or Buddha, or Allah, or the universe, for help? Who does not understand Jesus’ unbearable pain?

That is the gift and the revelation of Mark 15:34: Though we cannot truly understand his suffering, we do understand Jesus’ overwhelming and very human despair and we can grasp the enormity of the sacrifice he made for us. Given that he knew he would be sacrificed, we can also appreciate the enduring faith he had in God even through the darkest moment of his life.

Psalm 22, which presages Mark 15:34, depicts a speaker (believed to be David) enduring tremendous pain and beseeching God to help him. Though he feels abandoned, the speaker continues to pray, and is heard:

For he has not despised or scorned

the suffering of the afflicted one;

he has not hidden his face from him

but has listened to his cry for help.

What follows (Psalm 23) is a perfect celebration of faith:

The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters,

he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

Psalms 22 and 23 amplify the transition about to happen in Mark 15:34: Upon the cross Jesus — the human, the messiah for our sake literally embodies faith in God the Father and life everlasting.

In this season of Lent, in the midst of a global pandemic, a global economic collapse, and the inability to discern truth from fiction in the mouths of people we desperately want to believe, we are left with this gift of life everlasting from God with and Jesus’ simple, profound challenge to treat people as we would want to be treated, because it’s the right thing to do. It’s the way he chose to live for our sake.

Let us make every choice — Should I pay the cleaning lady even though she didn’t come? Should I risk the health of others because I feel so lonely? Do I really need all of the groceries I bought or can I donate them to a struggling family in my own town? Can I make a bigger contribution than I might normally to an international organization that can help stop the virus? — based on the truths we can access in our heads and hearts as Christians.

“Do justice. Love Mercy. Walk humbly before your God.” — Reverend William J. Barber II

Dana Longstreet

Who do you say that I am?

Matthew 16: 13-20

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”

“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Then he ordered his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.

Again, because of my emotional connection to the beauty of language, I consulted my King James Bible from 1901.

In Matthew, 16: 13-20, Jesus and his disciples have arrived and and entered the parts of Caesar Philippi. He asks his disciples, ‘saying, Who do men say that the Son of man is?

And they said, Some say John the Baptist; some, Elijah; and others, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets. He saith unto them, But who say ye that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou are the Christ, the Son of the living God. And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-Jonah: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father who is in heaven. And I also say unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it. I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven; and whosoever, thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven…’

In this part of the Gospel According to Matthew, Jesus has arrived at a destination, and he is polling his followers about what others think, and what they think. He is seeking the truly faithful among his disciples, those who believe what they’ve heard, and those who know in their hearts who he is.

In this, the second week of community enforced social distancing – with schools closed, public gatherings discouraged and even family members trying to maintain at lest 6 feet between others on the rare occasions the weather is nice enough to be outside, it is easy for me to relate.

I’ve been “working from home” mostly for the past two years, since quitting the place that hired me 25 years before, that brought me to New York, that sent me to Spain for nearly four years, and gave me a certain career identity as well as the opportunity to learn macroeconomics. Many things prompted my decision, two years ago, not least of which was difficulty being allowed to work from home during hurricanes when managers wanted us all where they could see us, even if we were producing more and arguably better than when we were at our office desks.

I’ve been freelancing, and missed going into Manhattan daily and having to get a round-trip ticket instead of a monthly pass on NJ Transit; I’ve missed not having the opportunity to socialize with friends and colleagues when I got off work in Manhattan, especially on a Friday night; and I’ve missed the little bit of pride when asked where I work and what I do.

When I started in journalism, it was to learn how to write better. Many of my favorite authors had been journalists, from Mark Twain (Samuel Clemmons) on. I studied journalism to learn to be a better writer. It was never, originally, supposed to be my career.

In the early 1980s, after a brief college stint as a foreign correspondent for The Associated Press covering a trial in India, I was working at my first newspaper in Amarillo, Texas, covering “blood and guts,” also known as the “cops and crime” or “bread and butter” beat. I was covering serial killers, run-of-the mill crooks, murders, even suicides – all the stories a journalism student could want.

I had a great editor by that time – my second one – Mary Kate Tripp, who sent me on a “Sweeten Your Disposition Tour.” I went off to Taos, New Mexico with some colleagues, one of whom had to write a “lifestyle” story. We went white-water rafting down the Box Canyon.

The rafting guide, or, as he called himself, “River Rat,” asked us all what we did, and we all had essentially the same answer: “work for The Amarillo Globe-News.”

We asked him what he did.

“This is it,” he said.

“In the winter?”

“Ski.”

“You can make enough to afford to live here doing that?”

“You don’t choose a career, man, you pick a lifestyle.”

The way I wanted to live chose my career; but my career wasn’t who I am – it is what I’ve done through the years for income, and keep doing until the day I declare myself actually “retired.”

In the same way Simon Peter saw, revealed to him by Jesus “Father who art in heaven,” who Jesus truly was.

To me, the most moving part of the passage isn’t the question, it’s Jesus’ response to Peter’s answer: he had found a true believer, with whom he could leave the keys to everything he was trying to teach. Knowing who he was himself. Knowing what awaited him, and what awaits us all.

I’m still a career journalist, I still ask questions and I still consider everyone’s got an angle. I learned what I wanted to in my career, did many of the things I’d hoped I’d be able to do, experienced many of the things from which I hope to draw my fiction stories. I can still, in the words of my first editor in Amarillo, “Bang it out, jazz it up and get it in (for the home edition).”

But I sense a change coming, for us all.

And this self-imposed quarantine appears suspiciously like a time forcing us all to look inside ourselves, our hearts, to determine who we are – not what we do.

And to believe without requiring “flesh and blood” to reveal it to us.

It took me 40 years to see that the River Rat was right.

Terin Tashi Miller

Author of THE OTHER COUNTRY, DOWN THE LOW ROAD, KASHI and SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

Who do people say that I am?

Matthew 16: 13-20

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”

“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

When I imagine Jesus standing before me and turning to ask “Who do you, Glen, who do you say I am?” Like the disciples, I have no easy answer. They weren’t all raising their hands in an “OH PICK ME!” moment. I imagine for them there was a long pregnant pause. Only Peter was able to respond, calling him mashiach- or anointed one. Christ, like Messiah, has the same connotation. And while that feels more familiar, I confess I struggle with what these titles truly mean to me. Sure, I have theological constructs of Jesus the Christ, The Messiah, The New Adam, Christ the Blueprint for Humanity. While I can get my philosophical arms around these concepts, in all honesty, I can’t say I KNOW those things about Jesus. How can I say what I don’t know? Jesus asks the question in the present moment to each of us. “Who do you know me to be?” In part, my answer is who I need Jesus to be in the now, at this time of plague, of great fear and uncertainty.

I KNOW Jesus to be my Peter, my rock. I know him to be a healer of the sick, and a calmer of the storm. If I truly believe that Jesus is the Son of the Living God- he is so much bigger than just those metaphors. The name Jesus, Yeshua, means “to deliver; to rescue.” In this moment, when so much of life seems uncertain, I look at Jesus and respond to his question: “ You are Jesus the Christ, the One who is always present, who saves us from fear and walks closely with us through all life’s challenges in love.”

Glen Hoffs

And who is my neighbor?

Luke 10: 25-37

And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”

But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.”

“And who is my neighbor?”

What a powerful question asked of Jesus. And rather than a brief or trite response to the lawyer Jesus told a parable which we are still reflect upon and relate to. First, Jesus gives us the examples of the priest and the Levite. Both were individuals who society or even in their own minds were fine, upstanding citizens who care for those around them. Yet when the opportunity to truly help was presented, they failed to seize that opportunity to help the beaten man. How many times do I see a beaten (read – homeless, imprisoned, mentally ill) individual the way these two men did and think to myself – “Don’t encourage the begging. He or she committed the crime, he / she deserves this punishment. Or what did they do to deserve this beat down”.

This reading asks me to be self-critical and to truly see and help those around me who are beaten down – whether that is by the circumstance they were born into, ill-advised decisions, bad choices or simply bad luck. The Good Samaritan in this parable provides the example of how to help. Sometimes bandaging wounds can be literal, other times it may mean listening to someone’s pain or grief for someone they have lost. Maybe that is a loss of a relationship….. or fear engendered by this virus and its effects.

I can image the Good Samaritan then lifting the injured man onto his own donkey / horse and can imagine that he now had to walk slowly rather than ride more comfortably. Walking slowly to help heal the injured can have many interpretations in my life today. Walk by the homeless slowly, offer to help maybe buy a meal, maybe a simple “god bless you” as a word of encouragement. How many times have we helped a homeless individual to receive a blessing from him or her? What is Christ asking me to do to get off my comfortable seat to help those who are suffering, maybe it’s making a call or a home visit or a prison visit. Lord, let me hear that call to help.

A last example is the Good Samaritan asking the innkeeper (read hospital, social worker, legal aid worker) to care for that suffering individual and offering to underwrite the cost. How? Charitable opportunities abound – whether it’s a GoFundMe page, a well-established charity, to our own Church or a direct offer to the individual. Many charities and non-profits ask us to contribute either time, talent or treasure. Sometimes it’s all three. Sometimes a simple prayer is all we can muster at this moment. The example we set may be the spark that helps others to join in and help those around us. Sounds remarkably like the calling of St. George’s Church to each of us as the Body of Christ today.

Paul Desjardins

How much bread do you have?

Matthew‬ 15:32-38‬

“Then Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for the crowd, because they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat; and I do not want to send them away hungry, for they might faint on the way.” The disciples said to him, “Where are we to get enough bread in the desert to feed so great a crowd?” Jesus asked them, “How many loaves have you?” They said, “Seven, and a few small fish.” Then ordering the crowd to sit down on the ground, he took the seven loaves and the fish; and after giving thanks he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all of them ate and were filled; and they took up the broken pieces left over, seven baskets full. Those who had eaten were four thousand men, besides women and children.”

One chapter earlier in Matthew (14:13-21) Jesus fed 5,000 thousand men by blessing and breaking the bread and fishes and distributing the food among the presumably Jewish crowds who had gathered to find Jesus. Matthew (15:29-31) describes Jesus passing along the Sea of Galilee and going up a mountain where scholars surmise Jesus turned his attention to the Gentiles, spending three days performing miracles of curing and healing, As the crowd begins to disperse, Jesus is concerned they are very hungry – how sweet is it that Jesus doesn’t want his the followers to faint? When the disciples wonder where to get enough food, the impatient voice in my head thinks, HEY, DISCIPLES, did you forget what Jesus did a chapter ago? Just give him the loaves and the fishes and ask him to show you again how awesome he is. It occurs to me the disciples might have been reluctant to ask – I imagine the disciples talking amongst themselves – with some saying “I don’t want to ask him, you ask him,” and at least one disciple saying “don’t ask him – he’s exhausted from three days of miracles.” But Jesus wants to help so he asks, “How many loaves have you?” And Jesus give the Gentiles a wonderful meal just like he did for the Jewish people – because Jesus was and is for everyone.

Rev. Grant provided a prompt with the passage which was “How much bread do you have?” The passage and the prompt are so apropos, I thought; I can write that God knows I struggle to assuage money-related anxiety and God understands always seems to be “picking up the check.” Or, about counting the money collected through pledges, the plate, and other sources on Sundays at St. George’s and how generous our parishioners are. Or, trying to eat only to satiety and trusting the bread will be there for the next meal…

And then – Covid-19 took the metaphor out of “how much bread do you have?” – grocery store shelves are barren as people prepare for the unknown; local merchants close their doors to help with social distancing; companies lay off workers as the stock market corrects and corrects and corrects. Meanwhile, St. George’s has shifted to virtual services leaving us to fast from the peace and the communion we hold so dear but we also are compelled to explore our faith, care for our parishioners, and grow our parish in new ways. And, while we’re a tiny bit worried about our coffers, we’re mindful that other churches are in survival mode. Meanwhile, we must keep the sick, the poor, the undocumented, and, the vulnerable top of mind. Fear not! God will provide; Jesus is in our midst; and, the Holy Spirit will help distribute the loaves and fishes among the many who need it. Dearest St. Georgians, how much bread do you have?

Jane Ungaro

How long has this been going on?

Mark 9:14-27

And when He came to the disciples, He saw a great multitude around them, and scribes disputing with them. Immediately, when they saw Him, all the people were greatly amazed, and running to Him, greeted Him. And He asked the scribes, “What are you discussing with them?”

Then one of the crowd answered and said, “Teacher, I brought You my son, who has a mute spirit. And wherever it seizes him, it throws him down; he foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth, and becomes rigid. So I spoke to Your disciples, that they should cast it out, but they could not.”

He answered him and said, “O faithless generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I bear with you? Bring him to Me.” Then they brought him to Him. And when he saw Him, immediately the spirit convulsed him, and he fell on the ground and wallowed, foaming at the mouth.

So He asked his father, “How long has this been happening to him?”

And he said, “From childhood. And often he has thrown him both into the fire and into the water to destroy him. But if You can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.”

Jesus said to him, “If you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes.”

Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

When Jesus saw that the people came running together, He rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it: “Deaf and dumb spirit, I command you, come out of him and enter him no more!” Then the spirit cried out, convulsed him greatly, and came out of him. And he became as one dead, so that many said, “He is dead.” But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose.

Three key themes that appear to stand out in this scripture passage are healing, doubt and our faith in Jesus. You can imagine how dramatic this scene must have been with an innocent child who is not only physically but spiritually unwell, and a father who is completely overwhelmed, desperate and in many ways at his last breaking point to bring healing and possibly a cure for his son. What stands out most in this passage is Jesus telling us, “All things can be done for the one who believes”. Why then, do we doubt? And why is our faith more of a ‘noun’ and not an ‘action, or verb’? And, is doubting necessarily wrong, particularly when faced with an extreme or delicate situation? Furthermore, where is our wisdom?

In this current global crisis, Christian and non-Christian, everyone has to lean on their faith that things will be alright, and that we will in fact resume to a normal and daily routine. We do not have to be in an extreme circumstance for our Lord to reveal Himself, and it is particularly in the smallest details and ordinariness of our lives that He is able to connect with us. And it is in daily prayer where this connection naturally happens.

However, doubt, when expressed in a sincere and open way can be the doorway for a deeper conversation with the Lord, that strengths our connection leading us to spiritual maturity.

In the fall of 2012, I traveled with a friend to Iceland. We were both on a budget and quite curious of this less traveled territory. The country is about the size of Kentucky and there are only two major cities. As beautiful as the landscape is, the nature of the land is in constant change as Iceland is a bridge between two continents or tectonic plates. For this reason, there seems to always be a new volcano forming.

During the week, our travels took us to a small museum that told the story of the volcanic eruption of the Eyjafjallaljokull volcano in 2010. This dramatic event held international attention and halted all air travel across Europe for about six weeks. However, the impact it had on the Icelandic people was another story all together. What impressed me most, was their calm resilience and compassion for one another as a community. The woman who was sharing the story lived and owned the farm that was just beneath this volcano and was in the family since the 1920s.

At that time just before the eruption, this family thought that even with the best preparation they were about to lose everything, including their livestock. What I remember so clearly, is this woman shared her story in such an intimate way with people she has never met before, she even became tearful as she spoke. What she shared with us was, that they did not know what was going to happen, but they still prepared the animals in the barn with enough food for four days. She went on to say that when the volcano erupted, there was complete darkness in their region for six days, no one could see in front of them. I could not imagine the doubt and fear for this family and the community. She mentioned that they prayed…a lot! Upon their returning at the sixth day and opening the barn doors, not one animal perished! And even the cows had tears in their eyes. In time, with help from the community they were able to restore their farm.

I did not anticipate to hear such a moving story, but I feel most fortunate to have heard this testimony knowing that our Lord hears everything, and we do have to trust that He is the healer. Jesus wants to expel anything that keeps us from sight or hearing, any spirit that threatens our peace of mind. We can pray for ourselves and for those that are dear to us, that we may receive more fully the goodness and grace of God as we pray for one another.

I cannot help but to share a complementary verse that comes to mind when reflecting on this scripture passage.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul.

~ Matthew 11:28-30

Kathleen Gilmartin

What do you want me to do for you?

Mark 10:46-52

Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”

So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.

The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”

“Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

Jesus asks Bartimaeus out right, “What do you want me to do for you?” And, Bartimaeus answers confidently and boldly, “Rabbi, I want to see.” How often have I prayed not really knowing what I want? If I am honest, it is quiet often. Just today, I had a session with my spiritual director and she asked me “How would you like me to pray for you?” Instead of answering that question, I found myself asking for prayers for situations and things in my life and my relationships, but not for me. She wondered about that out loud, which in turn made me wonder, why I don’t ask for what “I” want God to do for me?

Perhaps, what holds me back from asking for something specific for myself is the fear that I won’t receive what I am asking for. What does it mean if I don’t receive something that I have prayed for? What does it say about my worthiness or my faith? After all, Jesus is often saying that a person’s faith has made things possible. On other occasions, I may not ask for what I want because I fear that I will actually receive what I am asking for. If that happens, is there an expectation I need to meet now that I have been given what I asked for? Is there a spiritual quid pro quo that I might need to fullfill.

In either case, it is fear that holds me back. Fear can be crippling on so many levels. It can stand in the way of our ability to trust, to have a sense of security and of our ability to give and receive love. So as a way to begin this journey, I am praying for freedom from the fears that grip me and for faith equal to that of Bartimaeus, faith to believe I am worthy to receive that freedom.

Cheryl Notari

Do you want to get well?

John 5:1-9

Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”

“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”

Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.

The image of the waters stirring as an invitation to the healing pool move the imagination.

And this afflicted man waiting, waiting for some thirty-eight years.

Trying, hoping to find his way to a place of healing.

Feeling blocked and without agency to get in, to get through.

Who among us has not felt that in some place in their life?

Jesus asks, Do you want to get well?

In this time of high anxiety and confusion I ask myself,

Do you want to be well?

Crisis they say brings out best in us, but it can also bring out the worst.

Every weakness in the house seems so blatant as I work to batten down my hatches.

But if the bones of house are good the house will stand.

Is my house a house of mercy or house of shame?

I look to Jesus.

Help me to trust,

to believe,

to move in faith.

I pick up my mat.

Janet Aulet Maulbeck

If you only do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you?

Mark 10:46-52

What do you want me to do for you?

Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”

So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.

The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”

“Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

Cheryl Notari

If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?

Luke 6:27-36

“But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you.

“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

There are so many ways to slice this passage. But in this era in which the term quid pro quo has become part of our daily vocabulary and mantras are built on being “great again,” I have to say that these words embolden me with the essence of true Christianity and a reminder of what we are called to be and do in this world.

In the verses immediately preceding this, Jesus exalts the poor and warns the rich of what awaits them. Then in this passage, Jesus gets specific, imploring us to act with mercy, just as our Creator does with us. In other words, do not succumb to the ways of the world and our culture – which beckon us to look out for ourselves; to invest only when assured of a return; to share only when we’re sure we’ve got enough for ourselves still left in our cupboard. No, the ever radical Jesus pushes us way beyond that route of safety – both materially and emotionally.

He pushes us into territory where we dare to travel only if we are guided by the Christ within us, focused on what really matters as we engage with others in this world. He challenges us to love generously, to be open, to allow ourselves to be vulnerable and exposed – and not just with our life partner or family or friends. We’re called into that zone of discomfort, openness, discovery, honesty, humility – and it is there that we ourselves become transformed. We begin to see this world in the way that God sees, with a heart that aches for those who are oppressed, bullied, alone, forgotten, rejected, lost. And as we respond in love, we get a taste of what it means to be children of the Most High, in deeper relationship with God and others, and strengthened to persist mercifully in this broken world, for that is all that matters.

–Valyrie Laedlein

Which one of these three was a neighbor to the man who encountered thieves?

Luke 10: 25-37

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’^[”

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. ³⁵The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

I’ll be honest. I wish I could answer this question with single-minded clarity and say, “The Samaritan was the good neighbor, and I, too, would have stopped and helped this man without a second thought.” But the truth is, faced with the situation of finding a strange man bleeding and stripped of his clothes on the side of the road, I would quickly be flooded with second, third, and fourth thoughts. First, I would think: “My God, what happened? Is this man okay? Does he need help?” But these questions would immediately be followed by: “Is it safefor me to help? Do I have time? Can I handle how difficult and stressful this will be? Can someone else help? Someone else will surely do a better job than me.”

Unexpectedly, I think a lot about the passersby in this story. Why didn’t they stop? Were they oblivious, unkind, or were they fearful? I wish Luke would have written more about the Samaritan’s internal dialogue. It might be a relief for all of us to have it recognized that being a good neighbor—or a good citizen—isn’t easy or without complex, even contradicting thoughts and feelings. Doing the right thing isn’t a virtue that some have, and some don’t.

These days, there is a rapidly growing range of situations calling for me to be a good neighbor and a good citizen. I grapple with having the strength to do the right thing. I’ve fought against my urge to cocoon with my family and stay under the radar and pushed myself to march in the streets for separated families that look like mine and for children killed by gun violence that could be my children next. In these circumstances, I have been the Samaritan. But I confess that I’ve been like the priest and the Levite in others, crossing the street and keeping on my own way.

I think about how things could have been different for the robbed man if the three passersby had together bandaged this stranger’s wounds, found him clean clothes, and transported him to a safe place. Maybe all four of them would have walked away feeling safer and with more faith—faith in one another and faith in themselves for having done the right thing. I ask myself how, instead of vilifying those who aren’t actively helping, how can we make helping others feel more safe, more manageable, more impactful to anyone who might be scared to extend themselves?

I’m grateful to the community of St. George’s because it provides opportunities to help the hungry and the homeless, mothers and infants in need, detained immigrants, and more. I’ve felt how when we all work together, I feel less overwhelmed, less anxious, less burdened by inconvenience, and more capable of helping. I walk away feeling safer and with more faith in myself and my neighbors, and I hope to help others feel that way, too.

Joanne Ruelos Diaz

if God so clothes the grass of the field, will he not much more clothe you - you of little faith

Matthew 6: 25-34

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

“Consider the lilies of the field -” The general idea of the sermon on the mount is the emphasis on sincerity, compassion , and faith. Jesus urges people not to worry about their own security but to trust in God.The beauty of a lily in full bloom is an awesome spectacle, but, as Jesus points out, after a brief life it goes in the stove. I am baffled by this. My grandmother was fond of saying “‘The Lord will provide.” In her case it was true, but my mother couldn’t stand it, because she thought it meant that some helpful friend would have to turn up. (My grandmother had a lot of friends.) My interpretation of the passage is that Jesus is urging us to attend to the beauty and wonder of God’s creation. My feeling is, that would be very nice, if I didn’t have to pay for my mortgage, etc. Lilies are beautiful but they don’t live very long. We are always stuck between attending to the needs of the world and losing ourselves in adoring the beauty of creation.

David Sard

Why do you worry about clothing?

Matthew 6: 25-34

“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

My first thought upon reading this question was, “Matthew, clearly you have no idea what it’s like to be a middle-aged woman in corporate America! Give a big presentation in an outfit that isn’t perfect and you risk being seen as outdated, or trying too hard to look young, or too focused on your appearance, or not enough. And don’t even get me started on shoes!”

When I reflect on Matthew’s words, however, it seems that he and I are expressing similar frustrations. In my 21st century example, an excessive focus on outward appearance means that we risk not seeing a person’s true value: the expertise she has or how she might help us address a problem. We are not appreciating her God-given gifts.

In the passage, Matthew is pleading for us not to get too tied up in material worries. He is not saying they are completely unimportant. Rather, he is telling us to first focus on what is right, on the kingdom of God. Matthew extolls the abundance and beauty of God’s creation and how God lovingly cares for it. Similarly, we must acknowledge and appreciate the full value of those at work, at home, in our communities, whomever we encounter: their ideas, experiences, perspectives, their humanity, and God’s presence within them. The rest will follow, as we build families, communities and societies where we live our lives fully, sustain each other and cherish God’s creation.

Deborah Alessandro

Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?

Matthew 6: 25-34

“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

In some translations of the bible, this passage from the sermon on the mount, Jesus’ instruction on living a righteous life, is titled “Do Not Worry.” That suggests a literal interpretation, which, as with most scripture, can be misleading. Worrying can indeed extend my life, for example, by paying attention to symptoms of disease or by heeding traffic signals. Jesus isn’t saying ignore everyday concerns, he’s reminding us not to get so caught up in them that we lose sight of how we’re living our lives. As Jesus says later in the passage, strive first for the kingdom of God and righteousness, and the rest will be given to you.

For me, this means thinking about whether I am doing my part to bend the “arc of history” toward justice. Can I summon the strength to stand up against wrong when I see it? I have a lot of trouble with this — low courage, self-absorption, weak faith. Often, I’m afraid to take a stand on the hard issues; it’s less personally risky, and less physically taxing, to concentrate on the small, everyday stuff. The result is a rather stunted emotional and spiritual life; it may not amount to much, but at least it’s not too harmful so long as the arc of history is bending in the right direction.

That’s not the case now — today we face severe tests of faith. Can we change our ways enough to alleviate global warming and give future generations a hope of survival? Can we come to terms with our nation’s original sin of slavery and transcend our legacy of white supremacy? Can we restore trust in our democratic institutions and prevent a slide into tyranny? And can we use those institutions to propel society toward greater equality and justice? However faintly we may hear it, faith summons us to stand up and confront these challenges. Even as I continue to mind my daily concerns, I pray for the courage and strength to answer that call.

John Lauder

O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?

Matthew 14: 22-33

Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land,[a] for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind,[b] he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

Jesus has been told of the death of John the Baptist. He quite possibly wanted to alone to ponder the death of someone He loved. Multitudes appeared from every corner and followed Him. He extended His compassion towards them by healing the sick and feeding the hungry.

He instructed the Disciples to board a ship and head to the other side while He said His goodbyes. Having accomplished the departure of the multitudes, He went to a mountain to pray and perhaps be alone with His thoughts.

It was windy and the ship tossed in the ocean waves. On the fourth watch, being our Heavenly Dad, and knowing our thoughts, He walked on water and headed towards the ship to be amongst the disciples. The disciples were petrified, and He comforted them, “Be of good cheer, it is I, be not afraid” (Matt:14:27).

Peter being Peter, presented a challenge, “Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water” (Matt:14:28). Peter ‘carded’ the Messiah!!!

Jesus accommodated Pete’s request and allowed him to walk towards him on the water. In route, Peter was petrified and begged Jesus to save him.

Jesus reached forth grabbed Peter’s hand, steadied him and asked, “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” (Matt: 14:31).

The question of the Ages!! They had recently seen Him Heal the sick amongst the multitudes that followed them. He fed thousands with five loaves and two fish!! They had the amazing gift of His physical presence, yet doubt was evident amongst the disciples.

The storm subsided after He and Peter boarded the ship. The disciples then agreed that He was whom He said He was and worshiped Him. Had He not already proven His Majesty amongst the multitudes??

Just like Peter, in times of fear and uncertainty, there is a tendency to ponder the authenticity of our Heavenly Dad, whose “grace is sufficient”!!!

Our prayer in these times must always be our desire to be taught to develop a dependence upon something beyond our own natures, the supernatural Love and Strength of God. In doing so we are then able to, with the aid of the Holy Spirit, to inspire others of the Grace and Mercy of God.

Shaunille McDonald

Who are you looking for?

Mark 4: 35-41

That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

—-

And my question is “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

—-

Oh, boy. This is a timely one. Why am I afraid? Why is everyone afraid? For starters, have you tried buying a bottle of hand sanitizer lately? The shelves are empty.

I really like the dramatic quality of this story. Jesus decides to cross the Sea of Galilee at night, which is more dangerous than during the day, and a “furious squall” comes up, crashing waves over his boat and sending everyone into a panic… except him. Instead, he was curled up and asleep on some pillows.

You can just envision the nightmarish scene. And given that many of his disciples were fishermen and quite skilled at navigating a boat, the fact that they were terrified by the storm underscores just how bad it must have been. This wasn’t a little extra wind and lighting — this was life or death. And, in a panic, they woke Jesus up, and accused him of not caring if they all perished at sea.

Those waves have taken several forms for me over the past few years. It’s the stuff that keeps one up at night. Frightful wars and conflicts. Unbelievable violations of human rights. Gun violence that destroys communities on a daily basis. The possible collapse of democracies around the world… And right now: a mysterious virus that’s spreading furiously, leaving governments scrambling for answers and cures.

Those are some big waves. And how often, especially in the middle of the night when the mind is venturing forth on one of those mental voyages… is our reaction like the disciples? Terrified and feeling abandoned, we try to wake up our relationship with God, sounding the alarm bells. Panicked.

And his response: “Quiet! Be still!” And, like that, he quiets the storm.

We know he can. We know this story. And yet — it can be so hard to remember it — and to trust in the peace that he provides — when those waves are crashing down over us. God, please give us the courage and faith to trust you.

Tom Meyer-Normand

Where is your faith?

Luke 8: 22-25

One day Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side of the lake.” So they got into a boat and set out. As they sailed, he fell asleep. A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger. The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!”

He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. “Where is your faith?” he asked his disciples.

In fear and amazement they asked one another, “Who is this? He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him.”

“Where is your faith?”

Indulge a lay-person’s perception and sustain disbelief for a moment. If this was me, I would be freaking out and screaming, “Lord help me!” while bailing out the boat with my hands.

When I first read this passage, I found that the disciples responded very much in line with a rational response of “Master, Master, we’re going to drown.” Then, upon further reads I realized- faith is active. “Master, Master, we’re going to drown,” and “Lord help me” are different. One is active, while one is passive. I don’t know that either is right or wrong, but I feel better when I am an active participant in saving my life, so I prefer the active choice.

I am always on a mission to deepen my faith and embrace the unknowable. This is difficult work. However, I have learned that it is work. When I dedicate time and thought to my faith, especially when I have to put it into words to aid my children’s understanding, it is challenging. At times I ask myself, “Is it worth it?” “I don’t know what I am doing.” “Nor do I wholly grasp what I am saying.”

This is a constant life lesson and sometimes I only learn when I am kicked to the bottom. In these moments I find myself; quiet and unadorned. The way I imagine God initially made me, and loves me without regard to my, “angry God moments.” Here, is where my faith settles into my bones and I rise.

I rise more forgiving, more engaged and more loving.

I am thankful for this. I do feel it is Jesus calming the storm in or around me and saying, “Come child, where is your faith?”

Let’s continue to remind one another, that we are to be this, to each other. That is my hope and prayer this Lenten season.

Meg Persichetti

What is your name?

Mark 5: 1-13

They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes. And when he had stepped out of the boat, immediately a man out of the tombs with an unclean spirit met him. He lived among the tombs; and no one could restrain him any more, even with a chain; for he had often been restrained with shackles and chains, but the chains he wrenched apart, and the shackles he broke in pieces; and no one had the strength to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always howling and bruising himself with stones. When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and bowed down before him; and he shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” For he had said to him, “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!” Then Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Legion; for we are many.” He begged him earnestly not to send them out of the country. Now there on the hillside a great herd of swine was feeding; and the unclean spirits[c] begged him, “Send us into the swine; let us enter them.” So he gave them permission. And the unclean spirits came out and entered the swine; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and were drowned in the sea.

(Mark’s gospel conveys urgency and immediacy by using short narrative blocks that often begin with “immediately,” or “now,” or “then” as well as by moving from past to present tense)

Jesus is running the disciples ragged.

A few weeks with Jesus and everywhere it is the same: he talks about a new kingdom; calls on people to repent; and heals heals heals. Evil spirits flee at his voice, he relieves painful disfiguring skin conditions, people on crutches for years walk away—acts of power flow out of Jesus, sometimes without his volition; sometimes despite his impatience. Now his family comes all the way from Nazareth because they hear he is crazy and underfed but he won’t stop even to ease his mother’s worry.

And the crowd stalks Jesus, incessant and demanding, mostly friendly but with a threat like distant thunder or smell of smoke hanging in hot air.

When not fending off the crowd or searching for Jesus to bring him a meal, the disciples puzzle over his tales, the vivid bits of imagery, connections, and meanings they don’t understand. They wonder why they stay with him. The night and the lake are relief. He can spirit away in the darkness. In the morning he sits in Andrew’s boat just offshore and talks to the crowd and they can’t jostle him or grab him.

This night Jesus gives the word to cross the lake to a region where he is not known. The lake is small so the disciples expect an easy ten-mile row to the southeast. They look forward to a rest. Immediately, a storm nearly swamps the boat. Frightened, they wake Jesus up and he rebukes the wind and it dissipates as quickly as it rose. Now he scolds them for their fear. They wonder would he sleep right through while we drown and isn’t waking up and begging for his help a faith? Still shaken, they pull the boat ashore at dawn.

Immediately, here comes clanking toward them the maddest mad man beset by the most unclean of all the unclean spirits they had confronted. The sinner screams in anguish, tortured in his body and mind by chains seen and unseen. Some disciples try to shield Jesus. But Jesus moves forward. He demands that evil leave the man. The man falls to the ground, pleads for the torture to stop, begs not to be sent away, and calls Jesus a god.

“What is your name?” Jesus asks.

“Legion,” the man shouts in the Roman tongue, “for we are many.” Some of the disciples almost laugh at the man’s cheekiness. As if one person could hold an army of sorrows!

“Let me stay,” the man begs.

“You stay but Legion must go,” Jesus replies. “Into the pigs with them.”

Immediately, a great herd on a nearby hillside—2,000 pigs some say–stampede into the lake and perish. The herders, livelihood destroyed, are aghast.

“You will need a new name,” Jesus says to the man.

The man sits on the ground. Jesus walks to the boat. The disciples row back across the lake to the crowd, puzzled, but ready to continue his work.

John Hamer

Do you see this woman?

Luke 7: 36-50

One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.” Jesus spoke up and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” “Teacher,” he replied, “speak.” “A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt.” And Jesus said to him, “You have judged rightly.” Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

In this piece of Scripture, Jesus is invited to the home of Simon the Pharisee to share in a meal. Luke simply states that Jesus “took his place at the table” as any other guest. Shortly after, a woman with no identity or name enters the house and immediately begins to bathe Jesus’ feet with her tears, drying them with her hair, kissing his feet and anointing his feet with ointment (an extremely precious commodity). Many of the Pharisees savored moments like these – to catch Jesus in any way to discredit him as being even a prophet, much less the Messiah. Prophets lived by the Law and for a woman to touch a man in public, much less a sinner (this woman might have been a prostitute) and Simon the Pharisee though he had Jesus caught in a snare where there was no way Jesus could rebound from this situation.

As Jesus often does in Scripture, he turns the world on its side – putting the woman in the right and Simon the Pharisee in the wrong. Jesus remarks that the woman has extended a number of customary gestures that demonstrates radical hospitality and generosity – the washing, drying and kissing of Jesus’ feet and anointing him with ointment (which was very expensive and most likely depleted the woman’s savings), but what has Simon done to welcome Jesus to his home?

The woman, who remains nameless and really has no identity in the story, and most likely no significance in the community is raised up as a truly better person – much above the likes of Simon the Pharisee. These are the people Jesus associated and chose to share his life and love with – sinners, tax collectors, prostitutes – the scorned, marginalized and forgotten. The “OTHERS”.

As we seek to walk in the steps of Jesus during this season in Lent, he calls us to be mindful of those he lived among and also served. Through the woman’s outward display of intense faith, her sins were forgiven and her life after that encounter with Jesus began as a new “clean slate”. This same forgiveness and salvation is extended to us as we extend a similar welcome to Jesus in our lives and in our hearts and extend our hospitality to those who Jesus called “friends”.

Where do we find those “OTHERS” that Jesus so loved in our lives and extend them the same love and hospitality that the woman offered to Jesus and Jesus offered to the woman?

Ken Boccino

Who are you looking for?

John 20: 11-17

But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew,“Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

In this passage, Searching at the place where Jesus’s body had been laid, Mary Magdalene sees two angels and she is asking where have they put Jesus. Then she turns and sees Jesus standing and he says to her “Do not hold onto me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go tell the brethren that I will ascend to the Father my Father and your Father, my God and your God.”

Jesus while still in human form and still earthbound, may be heard and understood by Mary Magdalene in such a way that she can tell the others what she has experienced. Not to be afraid or sad, that there is hope in this world. Jesus will sit next to God in the Heavens and reign over his followers.

This is a message of hope that in everyday life, not to assume the worst in situations. There is a process and a time for all things to occur. Have hope for the best, this too shall pass. Be positive. The best intentions for us are held by God. Even in what seems to be the worst outcome imaginable. Jesus asks us to wait and know God has our backs.

Amy Cox-Martins

What are you looking for?

John 1: 32-39

Then John gave this testimony: “I saw the Spirit come down from heaven as a dove and remain on him. And I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water told me, ‘The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ I have seen and I testify that this is God’s Chosen One.”

The next day John was there again with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus passing by, he said, “Look, the Lamb of God!”

When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus. Turning around, Jesus saw them following and asked, “What do you want?”

They said, “Rabbi” (which means “Teacher”), “where are you staying?”

“Come,” he replied, “and you will see.”

So they went and saw where he was staying, and they spent that day with him. It was about four in the afternoon.

What are you looking for? When I first read the passage and asked myself this question, I thought about the journey our church just went through. We were looking, we were searching. Not just for our new Rector, but discerning who we are and who we want to be in order to find the right Rector for us. I was on the Profile Committee and figuring out who we are and who we want to be was not easy. What is our chosen path? What are our goals? It felt like we were mired in those details for so long. And then, just like the passage where John and two of his disciples all of a sudden see Jesus – we have Reverend Grant. And just as the disciples followed Jesus after he said, “Come,” all of us at St. George’s will go on this new journey together….”and we will see.”

Emily Regas

Why does Jesus ask so many questions?

“Do you desire to be baptized?” That is the most provocative question I have been asked in my life thus far, although the question “Grant, will you accept Dominique as your husband?” comes close! That simple question carries so much weight for me day in and day out because behind it stands many other questions, challenging and provoking how I live my life: do I renounce Satan, will I strive for justice and peace, will I proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, do I believe…? At the time my thirteen-year-old self was asked this question, I had no idea the power it would hold for me and how it would continue to guide my life in the years that followed my initial response of “I do”. Since I was first asked, God asks me that question each day in some form, stirring in me a deeper reflection and more authentic living of what it means to be a baptized follower of Jesus. It churns in me and invites me into a deeper relationship with God and the world. It is the question, not the answer, which continues to challenge me in my maturation as a Christian, a child of God.

Everywhere we look in the Gospels, Jesus is constantly asking questions: what are you looking for, who do you say that I am, who was a neighbor to this one, do you believe, have you still no faith, why are you afraid, do you see this woman, and on and on and on… Jesus certainly understands the power a good question can hold! Rather than spend his time here on earth offering answers, he spent the majority of his time asking questions. Through them, he stirs up peoples’ lives through inner reflection and challenges us to seek the fluid, moving, life-giving waters awoken by questions, rather than the perceived certainty, the perceived strength of set position, the perceived feeling of “I have it all figured out” that comes from having the answer. Jesus understands something about God and life that he tries to teach us through these questions – life with God isn’t about having all the right answers or having it all figured out; it is about sitting with the questions, experiencing and living in the uncertainties of life, rather than fool ourselves into a false sense of security and power by having an answer for all things. It is questions that open doors and invite people in to something more. It is questions that engage us in the holy act of listening to what God is up to in the world around us. It is questions that invite us to build relationships with God and our neighbors – not the answers. What a radically different way to be in the world!

In this time of new relationship between you and I, in this time of holy Lent, there will be many questions we have for one another and for God. I invite us to engage those questions, to seek them out, to offer questions to one another and our neighbors, to God, just as Jesus does. I wonder what the Holy Spirit may stir up in us as we ask and are asked questions. I wonder what Jesus is up to in this time of change… Will you seek it out with me?

Rev. Grant

Meditations

Lent 2020

Dan Mitchell

Children, have you caught anything to eat?

David Williams

What are you talking about as you walk along?

Dana Longstreet

My God, my God why have you forsaken me?

Terin Miler

Who do you say that I am?

Glen Hoffs

Who do people say that I am?

Paul Desjardins

And who is my neighbor?

Jane Ungaro

How much bread do you have?

Cathy Gilmartin

How long has this been going on?

Cheryl Notari

What do you want me to do for you?

Janet Maulbeck

Do you want to get well?

Ann Mackay Thoroman

If you only do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you?

Valyrie Laedlein

If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?

Joanne Ruelos Diaz

Which one of these three was a neighbor to the man who encountered thieves?

David Sard

if God so clothes the grass of the field, will he not much more clothe you - you of little faith

Deborah Alessandro

Why do you worry about clothing?

John Lauder

Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?

Shaunille McDonald

O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?

Tom Meyers-Normand

Who are you looking for?

Meg Persichetti

Where is your faith?

John Hamer

What is your name?

Ken Boccino

Do you see this woman?

Amy Cox-Martins

Who are you looking for?

Emily Regas

What are you looking for?

Rev. Grant Mansfield

Why does Jesus ask so many questions?

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