Self-Importance

Naaman became angry and went away, saying, "I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy! 2 Kings 5:11

                                                       Man Washing                                      M. Zimmerman

Naaman, an important General in the Syrian Army, was given permission by his king to go to Israel to seek a cure for his leprosy.  But when he arrived, Naaman was offended that the prophet Elisha would not come out of his house and wave his hands over him and maybe cite some magical incantation. Instead, Elisha simply sent a servant out to tell Naaman what he needed to do to be cured. Naaman stalked away, furious at Elisha’s social snub.

We learn something about pride in his passage. And about expectations. Naaman was an important man, but only in his own country. Here, he is only a pilgrim. And yet, Naaman needs something; he was the one with the leprosy. Surely he wanted it cured (that was why he had traveled all that way), but when the “cure” didn't match his expectations, he went off in a huff.

How do our expectations and pride get in the way of solutions that are offered to us? When we want to lose weight, we don’t want to hear “eat less and start exercising;” we want a “diet pill.”  And when we are in debt over our heads, we reject the invitation to cut up our credit cards and seek to involve the courts as we seek bankruptcy protection instead.

Sometimes, our prayers are answered with similar simplicity. Let us not complain about the results of our prayers. Instead, let us praise God for having heard us at all.

Being Neighbors

For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself."              Galatians 5:14

"Neighbors"  Tew Nai Tong

The whole law? All 613 of the Jewish mitzvot? The Pharisees of the 1st Century were the arbiters of these 613 commandments, and policed their people accordingly. Imagine trying to remember all 613, much less enforce them! Paul points out that there is freedom in Christ, because, in Christ, the law can be boiled down to just one: Love your neighbor as yourself.

Well, that certainly makes things simpler. Or does it?

Loving our neighbors in a contentious election year is tough. Loving our neighbors when they crowd our neighborhoods and schools and judicial system is tough. Loving our neighbors when they do not speak our language or value our cultural norms is tough. 

But life is tough.

And yet, there stands our Lord, whispering, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” It’s the simplest commandment of all, and the most difficult.

Where shall we start?

Unleashing evil

Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.      Luke : 31-33

                                               Jesus drives the demons out of the Gerasene


The swine had been snorting and snuffling for food on that same plot of ground for years. They were unclean; un-kosher.  The demons, recognizing the purity and power of Jesus, begged him to let them enter the swine so that they might escape from the presence of God swiftly. So Jesus gave them permission, and literally, all hell broke loose. The swine rushed to the edge of the bank and jumped off the cliff and into the sea below, where they were drowned.

This story calls to light the ferocity and the unpredictable nature of evil. Evil is everywhere, and evil moves quickly, and stealthily, and intentionally seeks to bring mayhem and catastrophe into the world. We saw it in Paris, in Brussels, in New York, and this week we saw it in Orlando.

As children of God, we reject and condemn evil and speak loudly and courageously against it.  As we do, we proclaim boldly that neither powers nor principalities, nor death nor life, nor things present or things to come can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. .

Stand firm. 

Invitations

June 8, 2016

Give ear to my words, O Lord; *
    consider my meditation.

2 Hearken to my cry for help, my King and my God, *
    for I make my prayer to you.

3 In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; *
    early in the morning I make my appeal and watch for you.   Psalm 5: 1-3

                                                Crack of Dawn         -Vladimir Kush


The Psalm for Sunday is an invitation to prayer. Some of us may think that God is too busy setting the planets on their courses and preventing planes from dropping out of the sky to be interested in our prayers, but this is simply not true. Each of us, made in the image and likeness of God, are beloved by God. God wants to hear from us! God yearns to be  in conversation with us, and when we initiate the conversation, I imagine God twinkles with delight.

You are God's hands and feet in the world. Without dialogue, we easily stray off the paths that are laid out for us. When we begin and end our days with God, the paths will be made clear, and our hearts restored. The reverse is also true. 

Compassion

As Jesus approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother's only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, "Do not weep." Luke 7:12-13

                               "When the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her."

It's still new and raw for me, being a widow; yet my being a widow carries very little of the baggage it did for first century women.  No, Jesus did not raise my husband from the dead as he did in Sunday's Gospel, but I can testify to the Lord's compassion. 

In the first few days, a cloud of prayers buoyed me up like one of those hydrofoil catamarans that ply the waters between Seattle and British Columbia. Family arrived. Casseroles arrived. Cards arrived. Bishop Lee showed up do do the funeral. But after the flurry, the evenings got long. The calls tapered off. The cards stopped arriving, Depression sank in, and with it, despair. It was then when Jesus was most present. 

On the precipice of despair, the phone would ring or an invitation to lunch would be extended, or the gentle kiss of a happy memory would float by. But mostly? Mostly Jesus was just there, stoking my hand, lifting the veil of darkness and whispering, "Do not weep; let me show you hope."  And hope is a gentle balm.