Begging

Walking out of Bookmans the other night, we made our way to the car between the pillar posts.

Out of the shadows, we were unexpectedly approached by woman for "just a dollar! or anything you have... or perhaps you would like to buy some jewelry that I made? Please - I am not normally a beggar but I need..."  She went on.

Neither of us had our wallets on us and we were pressed for time to get to our next appointment.  No, sorry, not tonight. We whispered to ourselves, "...does she really 'need' that? what will she 'really' do with the money? oh, there are so many people who are hungry and needing money - we can't give all our money away..."

But words of the Sermon on the Mount haunted me. Once in my car, I dug into my wallet and I did, in fact, have one one-dollar bill.  I don't normally carry cash, but there it was. "God bless you," I told her later.



Matthew 5:42 Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you. 

How do you respond to street beggars?

Sermon the Mount: Reflections on Reading Habit

The Sermon On The Mount - image by Piero di Cosimo

About a month ago, a clergy friend of mine invited me to join her in reading the Sermon On The Mount, every day, for the next year.  I decided to start on September 1.

I wish that I could say that I've read it every day without fail, but I can't.  I've missed a few days here and there.  So I invited my family to help me remember to read it and have set a copy (NRSV) by my bedside so that I can easily spend the 8-10 minutes with it before sleeping, if I only remember at the extreme close of the day.

A few friends have joined a face book group to read with me, and some have posted questions or remarks about what is transforming them to date.  I am inspired to get The Message out and read that version as well as the NIV version.

It's working on me. It's transforming me.

Stay tuned for topical reflections and thanks for joining me on this journey!

Every Riven Thing

A fabulous poem that keeps working on me from Krista Tippett's "OnBeing" interview with poet Christian Wiman.

You can hear it read by clicking here.

"Mr. Wiman: So the title is "Every Riven Thing," and riven is kind of an Old Testament word meaning broken, sundered, torn apart. This was actually the first poem that I wrote after years of silence, all those years I mentioned. I had gone I think it was three years without having written a poem. And in the middle of all those dramatic things happening to me, this was one of them. I sat down one day and found myself writing again and this poem came to me all of a sudden. It was quite a shock to write a poem and quite a shock to write a poem especially like this one. "

God goes, belonging to every riven thing he's made
sing his being simply by being
the thing it is:
stone and tree and sky,
man who sees and sings and wonders why

God goes. Belonging, to every riven thing he's made,
means a storm of peace.
Think of the atoms inside the stone.
Think of the man who sits alone
trying to will himself into a stillness where

God goes belonging. To every riven thing he's made
there is given one shade
shaped exactly to the thing itself:
under the tree a darker tree;
under the man the only man to see

God goes belonging to every riven thing. He's made
the things that bring him near,
made the mind that makes him go.
A part of what man knows,
apart from what man knows,

God goes belonging to every riven thing he's made.
.......................................
From the book "Every Riven Thing" by Christian Wiman. Copyright © 2010 by Christian Wiman. Used by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC.

un- ; limited

un-answered emails
un-finished sermons
un-fulfilled promises
un-met expectations

I'm so humbled by this ministry. I am learning my limitations.

thank You God for most this amazing  

by e. e. cummings
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

contextual liturgy

I heard this story the other day, as I hanging out in the little gift shop at our parish.

The parishioner told me how her son had been involved in the youth group when he was young.  During his confirmation formation, everyone was giving a new BCP (Book of Common Prayer).  He was so excited that he read it cover to cover.

The following week, his class at school found two birds and had put them in the classroom for the children to watch.  Her son announced to the teacher that he would, the next day, bring in his new BCP and use the marriage liturgy to marry the two birds.  Everyone in his class got into this idea. 

Well, the next day when they go to school, both birds had died.  It was a sad moment, until the boy decided to turn to the burial liturgy.  They gave the birds a proper commendation and committal, using, of course, the BCP!

prodigal parishioner

Yesterday at the church-door-reception, I shook hands with "Alfred." 

He stopped the recessional line to say to me, "I was baptized in this church exactly sixty years ago today, and this is my first time back! Thank you for a great service!"  He was complimentary and clearly glad that he came, on this day, Trinity Sunday.

I responded by welcoming Alfred back, by expressing my own gladness that he was here on this day and invited him to stay for coffee in the air-conditioned parish hall.  I was equally giddy that he was here and introduced him to the lay server who was standing next to me. "Welcome back, Alfred!" he exclaimed, and he, also expressed welcome and curiosity.  It was a happy affair that held up the line for a few minutes.

I reached out to shake hands with the next parishioner in line. As I am relatively new to this parish of more than a thousand people, it is my custom to say, "Remind me your name again?"

"Barbara. It's Barbara," she huffed.  She hardly would take my hand.  She said to me, "I have been a member in this church since 1963 and no one ever greeted me like that. I have been at this church every week since then and ..." she began to list out all the ministries in which she had participated.  Clearly this was "her" church and "she" was the reason it was still here. 

I considered the two parishioners.  Very much like the prodigal son story - one who "kept the fires burning" while the other "never set foot back in a church after my baptism."  Theologically, I believe that God called them both into this community for a reason, and only they (and God) know what that is. 

At this point, I'm not sure what to do with this anecdote.  It just struck me as profound.