A Contrarian Perspective on New Year Observances

 I have commented elsewhere that I am not aware that New Year commemorates anything in particular. It is an essential convenience for bookkeepers and tax accountants. We have turned it into an excuse for excessive exuberance and the cultivation of a false hope that somehow passing the date will interrupt the essential continuity of life. The seeds of 2022 were not just sown in 2021, but in 2020, 2016, 1860, 1776. 1492, and 346. Add years that seem significant to you while thinking about the ones I selected. Nothing magic there, just years whose seeds are still growing among us.

To be sure the last few years (not just two) have been particularly stressful in the US and even the world, but I am reminded of the line from the song "The Great Mandella" (1995 Peter, Paul and Mary). "It's been going on for ten thousand years." But I would suggest that 2022 will only be better if we think, talk, and work better together. I am afraid that wallowing in moaning about 2021 will only contaminate 2022. Yes, a hard time, but for those reading this (who have the luxury of a computer and internet connection) cultivating thanksgiving will grow more positive fruit in 2022.

1 Thessalonians 5.18: "Give thanks in all circumstances."

Psalm 50:14 "Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving,"

Kneeling Before the Mystery

 

"I have said for many years that as one who aspires to follow Jesus, I do not identify myself as either liberal or conservative, not as moderate either. I don't find that continuum to be at all helpful in understanding how I want to relate to living in reality. In his meditation today, I resonated with how Fr. Richard Rohr described it. 'The contemporary choice offered most of us living in the West is between unstable correctness (liberals) and stable illusion (conservatives)!' I do resonate with the alternative he proposes in today's meditation: 'Kneeling Before the Mystery.' I hope some of you will read it at: https://cac.org/kneeling-before-the-mystery-2021-12-27/..."

People of the Lie in Psalm 144:8 and the 2020 Election and January 6 Storming of the US Capitol

When I came to Psalm 144:8 in my Psalm prayer cycle this morning, I had a conversation with God about the emerging information and incompatible versions of the 2020 election and the storming of the US Capitol on January 6. The Psalmist invokes God’s judgment on those “whose mouths speak lies, who right hands are false.” That conversation took me back several years to reading M. Scott Peck’s 1983 book “The People of the Lie.” He wrote how from his psychiatric practice he came to distinguish between those who were “sick” (mentally ill) and those who were “evil” (purposely and knowingly doing or saying what they themselves knew was wrong). I asked God not only how I could distinguish between those whose words and actions (about the election and January 6) were “sick” (e.g. delusional) and “evil” (knowing what they were saying was untrue), but also what would be an appropriate, Christ-like response to the “sick” and to the “evil.” 

Vigilantes and Self-Defense

I am not going to add my comments to the Rittenhouse or Arbery trials (interesting that one is identified by the defendant and the other by the victim – perhaps, at least in part because one has a single defendant and the other a single victim). I have not been in either courtroom, and plenty of other people are speaking and writing their reactions. No one needs yet another voice in that cacophony.  Rather, I have been pondering how both of these trials have raised the issue of vigilante justice. Some cheering for those who are refusing to accept what they find objectionable by taking direct action, maybe even curtailing public demonstrations and protests. Others warning of the danger of the loss of due process by runaway violence empowered by firearms that infringe on the rights of speech and peaceable assembly. Are vigilantes heroes or villains?

I remember the TV westerns of my growing up years in the 50s and 60s. Vigilantes were celebrated when established law enforcement was absent or corrupt. Their independence from political and bureaucratic control was welcomed by ordinary people. I know there are more, but these came quickly to mind for me: the Lone Ranger, the Cisco Kid, Zorro, Paladin. I am not suggesting that this sort of folk lore validates vigilante justice, only that it has a long cherished history. In more modern settings private investigators and even lawyers are cast a models of vigilante justice: Perry Mason, Mannix, Magnum. Super heroes such as Superman and Batman are vigilantes working out justice outside of the system when it seems powerless. On the other side, lynch mobs may think of themselves as vigilantes for their own perception of justice.

I am suspecting that the contrasting reactions to vigilanteism that these two trials have brought into public discourse are another indication that the divisions in the US are much deeper than contrasting political opinions, but reflect disconnected, incongruous realities in which people operate which are not amenable to debate or discussion. They do not share a common vocabulary necessary for communication. Neither can grasp how those in the other reality can reasonably embrace not only their opinions but their entire ethos.

As these thoughts have been rumbling around in my mind today, I have wondered whether attitudes toward vigilanteism figures into responses to things such as “good guy with a gun” and the events of January 6.

These two trials are also bringing the right of “self-defense” into public discourse. Much of that seems to focus on celebrating the right of individuals to defend themselves with deadly force. On the other side are those who are questioning the legal and ethical boundaries of “self-defense.” Our human propensity for rationalization and self-justification makes this elusive. Generally, acting in “self-defense” is an emotional response to feeling threatened. While the emotions are very real and very strong, they may not always match objective reality. When firearms are involved, snap miscalculations can bring tragic results and injustices.

Again, my concern is far broader than these two court cases, though they have prompted what I hope can be a constructive public discourse. “Self-defense” depends on both legal and social consensus to prevent runaway violence. The Mosaic Code that provided “eye for eye and tooth for tooth” sets limits on revenge and prevents hopelessly escalating violence. Similarly, it provided “cities of refuge” where someone who was being pursued after an intentional or accidental killing to have a safe haven until justice could be discerned. I mention these things to be clear that I am not advocating eliminating the legal right of “self-defense” but suggesting it needs a better understanding.

I put “self-defense” in quotes because while I believe it is legitimate and important in a civil society, as one who aspires to follow Jesus, my personal ethic is quite different. I recognize that my perspective is radically counter-cultural. I do not expect the society as a whole to adopt it. I recognize as well that many Christians do not share my views. I am not questioning their faith or discipleship. This is a case of what Paul wrote in Romans 14:5, “Let all be fully convinced in their own minds” while not judging others who take a different view. I would add as well that I do not expect the culture as a whole to adopt the sort of ethic Jesus taught, such as in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), but I believe we who claim Jesus as Lord can live out following Jesus in such a way that it offers an attractive, viable alternative to people who are frustrated with and oppressed by the dominant society.

So with that lengthy introduction and perhaps disclaimer, I want to be clear that I have serious reservations about lethal force for “self-defense” as one who is intentional, albeit imperfect, about following Jesus. In John 18:36 Jesus said to Pilate, “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.” From the cross, Jesus prayed for those who executed him, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34) Stephen echoed this when he was being stoned, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” (Acts 7:60) At this point, I am not going to offer a comprehensive explication of my personal rejection of lethal force for “self-defense,” but suggest that the Hebrew prophets saw a precursor of this ethic, such as Isaiah 53:7, “he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.”

I am not going to judge or even argue with those who disagree with what I am fully convinced of. I intend only to bear witness to my feeble, faltering efforts to follow Jesus as faithfully as I can. For me, this an matter of both faith and discernment. What sort of “self-defense” is legitimate stopping short of lethal force? What risk of faith might I need to take to defend someone who is being attacked?

Hannah's Story - lectio divina reflections

 This week I have been reflecting on Hannah's story in 1 Samuel 1,2, and Elkanah's words to Hannah in verse 8 have been bothering me. "Am I not worth more to you than ten sons?" The text does not say how Hannah responded, and maybe she didn't. But the very next thing recorded is that Hannah was deeply destressed and weeping bitterly (v. 10). Whether she said anything or not, I can imagine Hannah thinking, "If you love and value me so much, why do you keep having sex with Peninnah so she can keep having babies with which to taunt me?"

As I came to Hannah's story in today's lectio divina, The second step (Meditatio) ask how I identify with any of the characters in the text. This is so much Hannah's story that identifying with her seems natural, which is what I supposed prompted my reflections on 1 Samuel 1:8 that I wrote on Thursday. Today I recognized another awareness has been emerging through the week in response to "In due time Hannah conceived" (v. 20). 

This brought me to consider verse 18 which says that after her conversation with Eli, she returned to her quarters to eat and drink and was no longer sad. Not all ancient manuscripts include "with her husband." Verse 19 suggests that Elkanah "knew" (a common shorthand for had sex) Hannah when they returned home to Ramah (which isn't to say they were not intimate in Shiloh). I actually rather like including "with her husband" while still in Shiloh linked with no longer being sad, imaging that they took the necessary step for fulfilling Hannah's prayer immediately before returning home. 

The line in verse 20 "in due time;" however, suggests to me that Samuel was not conceived in Shiloh but after they had been back in Ramah for a while. Even though Eli's assurance to Hannah were not specific and may have been a generically pastoral response, She took them as assurance that God would answer her prayer. So I have been wondering, how long was "in due time," and how did Hannah's faith fare as she waited? 

I have really been probing the dynamics of the story from Hannah's perspective, but am prompted to consider what assurances God gives when I am struggling and how does my faith fare when waiting for "due time?"

I am very aware that polygamy was practiced, often without moral comment, in the Old Testament. However, as in this incident, the pains that come with it are clear, but I am not suggesting this is some sort of moral regulation for modern marriage practices, one way or another. I am mostly interested here in the realities of human relationships and living in faith.

Keeping God’s Money Working for God

A month ago, September 6, I posted this on Facebook.

As I casually prepare meals, I am aware that from the perspective of most of the people of the world today and through history, I should acknowledge that I am fabulously wealthy when I need to rearrange the pantry or refrigerator to make room for my weekly grocery shopping.

Silent Retreat – June 10-12, 2021

During my active pastoral career I typically took a three or four day silent retreat once a year for some personal spiritual perspective and renewal. When I “retired” and began doing interim pastorates, that schedule was no longer practical. Since caring for my wife, Candy, on her journey with Alzheimer’s disease I have not taken such a retreat. While I find caring for her a satisfying joy, I am aware that the attention it demands has been increasing. In addition, in his 90s her father (she is his only child) has had some serious falls and a stroke. So I have become his defacto caregiver as well. As he has weakened, I have assumed more daily responsibilities for him. I was discussing with my therapist how tiring paying attention around the clock has become. She suggested I seek some way to take a break for some respite. That brought me back to my annual silent retreats. So after a decade, I took such at retreat June 10-12, 2021.

Though I kept a hot pen journal during the retreat, I thought identifying the scriptures that emerged to inform each day’s meditation. I did not go looking for special biblical input but concentrated on the readings from the Revised Common Lectionary on which I would be having daily lectio divina as usual. Also I would keep my regular rotation of praying through five Psalms each day. As I soaked in these passages and in the extended silence, I listened for nudges of the Spirit to bring to the surface what would refresh me.

On Thursday, June 10 these lines from lectio divina brought to me the theme of not looking on outward things, but inviting God to look into my heart with me. It became something of a day of  Ignatian examen, not entirely confession and repentance but also delight and joy (as in Psalm 51:12). I did pray through Psalms 10, 40, 70, 100, and 130 that day, but my lectio divina led me to Psalm 139 with its awareness that God knows me through and through, concluding with the invitation from verses 23-24. “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

1 Samuel 16:7

“The Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

2 Corinthians 5:12

“You may be able to answer those who boast in outward appearance and not in the heart.”

Mark 4:27

“The seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how.”

 

On Friday June 11, Psalm 131:2 stood out as I prayed through 11, 41, 71, 101, 131. “I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.” This is a longtime favorite for my centering prayer (often with Van Gogh’s drawing of Sien with Child on Her Lap as my icon/spiritual window), letting myself curled up on God’s lap as a small child with its mother. These reflections led me to the hymn Be Still, My Soul and this line from the second verse, “All now mysterious shall be clear at last.”

 

On Saturday, June 12 the refrain from Psalm 42:5, 11; 43:5 (12, 41, 72, 102, 132) seemed to draw all of the retreat to both a conclusion and a commission for returning to my caregiving mission. “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.”

Contemplative Sauntering - John Muir

 

I am headed for a 3 day silent retreat June 10-12 and find this perspective promising.

Annie Dillard and churches returning to business as usual

 As the pandemic seems to be easing in the US (or at least responses to it), and everyone wants to get back to normal ASAP, I think churches are particularly vulnerable to the danger of returning to business as usual. I have long loved this quote from Annie Dillard and find it powerfully relevant right now, not just with regards to the pandemic but also with how the malignant polarization of US society has infected the churches.

Annie Dillard: “On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return. ” Teaching a Stone to Talk

Peace in the Face of Violence

I have observed before that I am thankful that I have not been the pastor for a congregation of God’s people in this past tumultuous year or so. I have great respect and pray for those who are seeking to guide and nurture those in their care with faith, hope, and love.

Violence is certainly not new, but it has received considerable public attention lately, perhaps peaking with the storming of the US Capitol on January 6, 2021. This week that attention has come to a crescendo in the US Senate. So as I began my prayer Psalms this morning, I was stunned and stopped by Psalm 11:5.

“The Lord tests the righteous and the wicked, and his soul hates the lover of violence.”

Oh how much I needed to conclude my prayers by curling up in God’s lap as a small child with its mother, as portrayed in Psalm 131:2.

“I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.”

I have again posted Vincent VanGogh’s drawing of Sien with Child on Her Lap, which for years has served as an icon for me using Psalm 131:2 as the anchor for my centering prayer.

That’s the Way to Go!

Now that I’ve got my lectio divina attention focused on Jesus’ transfiguration, I have been thinking about Moses and Elijah as the ones to meet Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. Yes, of course, the Law and the Prophets. As I reflected on this I considered that they both departed this life at God’s direct intervention, perhaps akin in some way to Jesus’ ascension. Then I remembered Enoch who was noted for not dying conventionally. I haven’t proposed any hypothesis about the significance of this. Maybe that will come through the week, or maybe it is just my curiosity and of no great significance.

Genesis 5:24 Enoch walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him.

 Deuteronomy 34:5-6 Then Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, at the Lord’s command. He was buried in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor, but no one knows his burial place to this day.

 2 Kings 2:11 As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven.

 

One Final Request

I wrote this for used by First Christian Church of Midwest City, Oklahoma who I served as interim pastor a few years ago. It will also go in Milwaukee Mennonite Church's Monday Morning Devotionals this Lent.

The two criminals who were executed with Jesus each made one final request. The first said, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” (Luke 23:39) The second asked, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Luke 23:42) Jesus seemed to have let the second one’s rebuke stand, and he made this well-known response, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

During Lent we ponder our finitude and mortality, which may prompt us to make an ultimate request of Jesus. Listen for what Jesus tells you as you contemplate his words from the cross. 

Scholars have speculated on where Jesus was and what he was doing between his death on the cross and his resurrection on Easter. From Jesus’ response, some have suggested Jesus may have been in heaven enjoying fellowship with his crucifixion partner. Theologians consider several other possibilities. Instead of sorting that out, consider Jesus’ personal response to your ultimate requests. Jesus undoubtedly spoke in Aramaic, which Luke translated into Greek, which has been translated into English for us. Rather than proving a theological point, consider how a simple change of English punctuation opens a way for us to listen personally to Jesus.

Just move the comma from before “today” to after. What changes if you listen to Jesus’ response to your ultimate request this way? “Truly I tell you today, you will be with me in Paradise.” 

What may Jesus be telling you today in response to your ultimate request? The first criminal mockingly asked Jesus to release them from their excruciating execution, presumably to pick up with life where he left off when he was arrested. The second asked Jesus to remember him when Jesus came into his Kingdom without specifying a schedule. Jesus responded with the immediacy of “Today!” 

The substance of Jesus’ promise was “You will be with me.” As you think through your ultimate request, Jesus promises you will be with him, not delayed for a distant paradise, but you are with him today. He assures you today that you will be with him on your path from today forward. This echoes Psalm 23:4 “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me.” Jesus' ultimate desire is that where he is, “there you may be also.” (John 14:3)

Supreme Humility

 With the new week, I moved one week in the lectionary schedule without realizing that Ash Wednesday was the next week, and this is the last Sunday after Epiphany, Transfiguration Sunday. So I have updated my lectio divina, but I am continuing to benefit from reflecting on the healing of Naaman in 2 Kings 5. I am not at all suggesting that God slipped my brain so I would get this, but having done so, it is a reminder to me to tend to my personal humility.

 Yesterday I observed that the young (nameless in the text) girl who was captured as booty in war and made the slave of the wife of the commander of the army of Aram, was a magnificent example of living out Jesus principle of loving enemies (though, of course, Jesus had not yet spoken those words, but they are embedded in the Torah). In her obscurity, she is also an icon of godly humility, in contrast with Naaman and the kings of Aram and Israel.

 2 Kings 5:1 described Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram, as a great man and mighty warrior in high favor with his master. Even though the guidance to seek healing through the prophet in Samaria came from a lowly source, Naaman and the King of Aram go to the King of Israel rather than the prophet. Arrogant power people thinking they can actually get something by demand and bribe. Of course, the king of Israel knows he cannot effect this healing, but he ignored Elisha, though he was obviously known to the king.

 The text does not say how Elisha knew what had happened and that the king of Israel had torn his clothes. Some have suggested that God revealed this too him, which may be possible, but the text says that Elisha “heard” of it. (v. 8) When Naaman’s entourage, horses and chariots and loot, stop in front of Elisha’s house, he refuses to play to the hubris of the power people but sends his servant out with simple if humiliating instructions. Wash seven times in the Jordan River.

 Naaman is insulted at the suggestion of washing in the Jordan River rather than the great rivers of Damascus. He is insulted not just that Elisha does not come out to greet such an important person, but that he does not perform a dramatic ceremony. He storms off in a huff. It takes humble servants, who with gentle encouragement get him to give it a “why not?” try. This is not an act of faith, yet it is effective.

 Maybe more incredulous than insulted when Elisha refused the grand reward in person. Now Naaman professes allegiance, if not what we would call faith, to the God of Israel. Takes a load of Israel dirt back to Damascus so he can worship the God of Israel on Israel soil. Elisha does not instruct him that this superstition is not necessary and even gives permission for him to bow when with the king of Aram worshipping their god Rimmon. Any trace of either Aram or Israel exceptionalism is dismissed.

 In much the same vein, the text (v. 1) indicates that the Lord gave Aram victory over Israel through Naaman. So viewed from God’s perspective, even the highest claims for power and pride are signs of the reality of humility.

 Not that it is all that unusual, but in recent months we have seen a lot of pride and power strutting on the public stage. And even those of us who eschew it are susceptible to the subtle pride of thinking we can exempt ourselves. So as my lectio divina this week moves on from a mental slip, I am instructed to be alert to slipping into the reverse arrogance of rejecting it in others while missing it in myself.

 

 

Servant Girl “Spoils of War”

 

I am just starting my week of lectio divina on the story of Elisha’s healing of Naaman in 2 Kings 5:1-14. (The whole story goes for the whole chapter.) Today my attention was riveted on the young girl captured when Aram raided Israel. Her age isn’t specified, but I am guessing pre-puberty or she would have been considered a young woman and perhaps sexually available to Naaman. (The text makes no mention of that, but sex trafficking as a part of war is hardly new.)

 The first thing that strikes me is how empathetic she was to Naaman and how comfortable she felt talking to his wife. After all, she was their slave, at best. Besides, she was far from home. Yet, she expressed concern for Naaman’s health. I am thinking she is a role model for loving enemies as Jesus taught. (Matthew 5:44; Luke 6:27,35)

 The second thing that caught my attention is that despite being young and female, she was very aware of the prophet in Samaria. As the story unfolds, he is identified as Elisha. She had great confidence that he had the God-given power to heal Naaman, and a confidence that with the opportunity, he would do it. Apparently she believed Elisha also practiced the ethic of loving enemies.

 And thirdly, she was convincing enough that Naaman’s wife told him, who told the king of Aram, who gave it enough credibility to send a letter and large bribe to the King of Israel. No surprise that one power person would appeal to another power person and miss entirely the real power of humility of both the servant girl and Elisha (who didn’t even come out to see Naaman). I think I’ll wait for at least another day before reflecting on the centrality of humility in this story.

God's Invitation to Intimacy

I began my career in Christian education with a focus on the importance of affective learning, shaping behavior and character, and not being content to stop at cognitive learning, accumulating information. Rather early on I began to recognize this in the Church's deep legacy of spiritual formation. On that journey I have found great joy in soaking in Scripture as the nourishment of intimacy with God through Jesus. As I moved into pastoral ministry, I aspired to live this out in such a way that others would also be drawn into the wonder of intimate relationship with Jesus. Whatever I may or may not have contributed, I do know many folk who live the exuberant satisfaction of intimacy with Jesus. I also puzzled at many who responded to spiritual disciplines as a dull chore to be endured or left on the margins of life. With this background, I resonated with this quote in this weeks edgeofenclosure.org

Falling in Love

Nothing is more practical than

finding God, than

falling in Love

in a quite absolute, final way.

What you are in love with,

what seizes your imagination, will affect everything.

It will decide

what will get you out of bed in the morning,

what you do with your evenings,

how you spend your weekends,

what you read, whom you know,

what breaks your heart,

and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.

Fall in Love, stay in love,

and it will decide everything.

-Attributed to Fr. Pedro Arrupe, SJ (1907–1991)

Finding God in All Things: A Marquette Prayer Book

Mortals Cannot Abide in Their Pomp

  

So today, on the 19^th of the month, I come to Psalm 49 for at least the 600^th time in my daily prayer Psalm rotation. It is presented as an antidote to fear in times of trouble. (v. 5) However, this comes as a relentless gazing into human mortality and pretentiousness. Not one of the pretty, happy Psalms people post on their refrigerators. Actually, I find all of the Psalms in today’s rotation (19, 49, 79, 109, 139) to be powerful, if uncomfortable, prompts for intensive examen.

When I get to verse 11, “they named lands their own,” I remember and envision Percy Bysshe Shelley’s 1818 poem Ozymandias. So I find that a 3,000 year old Psalm and a 200 years old poem still speak with incisive discomfort today.

 

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."

 

Psalm 49

Hear this, all you peoples; give ear, all inhabitants of the world,

both low and high, rich and poor together.

My mouth shall speak wisdom; the meditation of my heart shall be understanding.

I will incline my ear to a proverb; I will solve my riddle to the music of the harp.

Why should I fear in times of trouble, when the iniquity of my persecutors surrounds me,

those who trust in their wealth and boast of the abundance of their riches?

Truly, no ransom avails for one’s life, there is no price one can give to God for it.

For the ransom of life is costly, and can never suffice

that one should live on forever and never see the grave.

When we look at the wise, they die; fool and dolt perish together and leave their wealth to others.

Their graves are their homes forever, their dwelling places to all generations, though THEY NAMED LANDS THEIR OWN.

Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish.

Such is the fate of the foolhardy, the end of those who are pleased with their lot.

Like sheep they are appointed for Sheol; Death shall be their shepherd; straight to the grave they descend, and their form shall waste away; Sheol shall be their home.

But God will ransom my soul from the power of Sheol, for he will receive me.

Do not be afraid when some become rich, when the wealth of their houses increases.

For when they die they will carry nothing away; their wealth will not go down after them.

Though in their lifetime they count themselves happy—for you are praised when you do well for yourself—

they will go to the company of their ancestors, who will never again see the light.

Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish.

 

The two portrayals of Charlemagne that I saw on my 2004 pilgrimage to Rome probe this even deeper with their visual contrast. The statue of Charlemagne by Cornacchini Agostino (1686-1754) sits by the entrance to St. Peter’s Basilica. The portrait of Charlemagne was painted from life ca. 800. It is in the Vatican Museum. I shudder when our gazes meet.

 

Can I Really Be an Instrument of God’s Peace?

Two and a half years ago I wrote about my struggle with maintaining the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace with the conflicted political environment that I believe has infected the Church (at least in the US). nstolpepilgrim.blogspot.com/2018/07/under-siege-unity-of-spirit-in-bond-of.html

The 2020 Presidential election campaign and its aftermath reached a fever pitch with the storming of the US Capitol on January 6. In response massive security measures have been implemented in anticipation of the Inauguration on January 20. A daily prayer encounter with the Prayer of St. Francis has been intrinsic to my spiritual rhythms for several years. I have wrestled mightily with how to be an instrument of Christ’s peace, especially among fellow followers of Jesus, in the turmoil that followed the election.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is discord, harmony;

Where there is error, truth;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console;

To be understood as to understand;

To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life,

Through Jesus Christ our Lord.

 

Then today I read this from Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s “The Cost of Discipleship” (1937) at the edgeofenclosure.org site and found it incisively challenging.

 

The followers of Christ have been called to peace. … And they must not only have peace but also make it. And to that end they renounce all violence and tumult. In the cause of Christ nothing is to be gained by such methods. … His disciples keep the peace by choosing to endure suffering themselves rather than inflict it on others. They maintain fellowship where others would break it off. They renounce hatred and wrong. In so doing they over-come evil with good, and establish the peace of God in the midst of a world of war and hate

When the Nations Are in an Uproar

With all of the turmoil following the election that erupted with the storming of the US Capitol last week, I found Psalm 46 in my prayer rotation for today to be both powerful and reassuring as we anticipate the inauguration next week. The whole Psalm resounds with faith, and I have excerpted and reordered reflecting my conversation with God this morning.

“The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.” (vv. 6-7)

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change.” (vv.1-2)

“‘Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth.’” (v. 10)

After soaking in the assurance of God’s presence in times of turmoil, I came to Psalm 106 which always gives me humbling pause.

“Both we and our ancestors have sinned; we have committed iniquity, have done wickedly.” (v. 6)

[God] “gave them what they asked, but sent a wasting disease among them.” (v. 15)

I shudder at the KJV translation, “sent leanness into their soul.”

 

 

Epiphany Today

Today is the Feast of the Epiphany, sometimes called Three Kings Day. It celebrates the revealing (that’s what epiphany means) of Christ to the Gentile world, represented by the Magi. I can’t escape the irony that this will also be a day of revealing in the US Congress, though in a markedly different way.

As I have been doing daily lectio divina on the story of the Magi visiting the Christ child in Matthew 2, these lines scream from the page.

“When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him.” (v. 3)

“When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated.” (v. 16)

Whatever anyone’s political perspective, today portends to be a day of fright and fury – fear and anger. In my daily lectio divina I have been prompted to pray for trust and peace – faith and love. As the news unfolds through the day, I invite all to join in similar prayer.