Today's readings: Ps 102, 148, Amos 5:1-17, Jude 1-16, Matt 22:1-14
The first week of Advent is traditionally the week of Hope. That being the case, today’s scriptures may leave us thinking: “… Really?” The psalmist is so distraught he is feasting on ashes and slaking his thirst with tears. Amos addresses the many injustices experienced by the poor and the nearly invisible status of the hungry. Jude warns the recipients of his epistle they are surrounded by false teachers and Christians who pervert the Gospel to serve their own appetites. And Jesus’ parable about a wedding banquet? The guests not only don’t show up, but they murder the bearers of the invitations. And the poor guy pulled in off the street is tossed into the outer darkness for not wearing the right outfit. These readings seem to offer little if anything to inspire us.
Suffering. Injustice. Hunger. Bad religion. The collapse of civil society. Sound familiar? If these and other problems still dog us two thousand years after the messiah showed up, what cause is their for hope?
Plenty, it turns out. These things are addressed in the scriptures because God weeps and rages with us that the world is so broken. We can have hope because God doesn’t want us to remain in this brokenness. Our own dissatisfaction with the present world, mirrored in these scriptures, tells us God is bursting through in our own hearts and hopes for a better tomorrow. Who doesn’t appreciate a good inspirational story? Hearing how someone has transformed her life by refusing to let go of hope connects with us on a deep level because the God at our center promises the same for all of us. Jesus is not the savior of the never-been-broken, but of those needing resurrection. Jesus comes back for the one lost sheep.
Hope is a precious resource, but like diamonds it may require a lot of time, pressure and digging to emerge. Unlike diamonds, it can be found by anyone. When we dust off hope and polish it up, it shines not just for our own enjoyment but as a light to the world.
Comfort: Even buried hope can be recovered.
Challenge: Pick an inspirational movie to watch and discuss with family and/or friends.
Prayer: God of Hope, may others find hope in my example.
Evening reading: Ps 130, 16
Discussion Question:When and how has hope carried you through difficult times? Please comment.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Advent, Week 1: Past Due Returns
Today's readings: Ps 18:1-20, 147:12-20, Amos 4:6-13, 2 Peter 3:11-18, Matt 21:33-46
Attend church regularly for a sufficient length of time, and you will undoubtedly encounter the following scenario: a regular attendee will disappear for an extended period of time; when this person returns he or she will explain the absence by claiming life had become difficult, or complicated, or troubled . Does it really make sense for us to abandon what is often the center of our spiritual life as a response to tough times?
Church is not the only place we might find peace or solace, but what does it say about our relationship to that community if we actively avoid it when we struggle? Perhaps our community is not really a place where we can bring our authentic selves. If everyone in church appears to be happy all the time, that’s a bad sign. Christians often feel pressured to present themselves to each other as having shiny, carefree lives. To be pleasant rather than real. They often feel hardship is a sign their faith is lacking. They may feel these ways because their churches encourage these ideas. The truth is very different. God promises to be with us during difficult times, but not to save us from all difficulties. If the culture at your church is uncomfortable with personal adversity, or if every group decision results in a unanimous vote, it needs an injection of reality.
On the other hand, the problem may lie within ourselves. Amos recounts how the people of Israel failed to return to God, despite famine, drought and plagues. If we turn to God only when things are easy or going our way, it’s time to re-examine our faith. The author of Psalm 18 knew many hardships, and had no delusions the world was anything but difficult and dangerous, yet through it all he relied on God. Faith that evaporates because we struggle is no faith at all.
Whether the problem resides in our community, our hearts or both, each of us is responsible for returning to God and offering and accepting authentic lives: the pain, the joy, and everything in between. Is your return in any way past due?
Comfort: “The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer” - Ps 18:2
Challenge: Consciously expand your awareness of friends, family, co-workers and church members who are struggling. Be present for them.
Prayer: God of Hope, thank you for being with me even in difficulty.
Evening reading: Ps 126, 62
Discussion Question (reply in comments):
When times are tough, are you more or less likely to reach out to God and/or your community?
Attend church regularly for a sufficient length of time, and you will undoubtedly encounter the following scenario: a regular attendee will disappear for an extended period of time; when this person returns he or she will explain the absence by claiming life had become difficult, or complicated, or troubled . Does it really make sense for us to abandon what is often the center of our spiritual life as a response to tough times?
Church is not the only place we might find peace or solace, but what does it say about our relationship to that community if we actively avoid it when we struggle? Perhaps our community is not really a place where we can bring our authentic selves. If everyone in church appears to be happy all the time, that’s a bad sign. Christians often feel pressured to present themselves to each other as having shiny, carefree lives. To be pleasant rather than real. They often feel hardship is a sign their faith is lacking. They may feel these ways because their churches encourage these ideas. The truth is very different. God promises to be with us during difficult times, but not to save us from all difficulties. If the culture at your church is uncomfortable with personal adversity, or if every group decision results in a unanimous vote, it needs an injection of reality.
On the other hand, the problem may lie within ourselves. Amos recounts how the people of Israel failed to return to God, despite famine, drought and plagues. If we turn to God only when things are easy or going our way, it’s time to re-examine our faith. The author of Psalm 18 knew many hardships, and had no delusions the world was anything but difficult and dangerous, yet through it all he relied on God. Faith that evaporates because we struggle is no faith at all.
Whether the problem resides in our community, our hearts or both, each of us is responsible for returning to God and offering and accepting authentic lives: the pain, the joy, and everything in between. Is your return in any way past due?
Comfort: “The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer” - Ps 18:2
Challenge: Consciously expand your awareness of friends, family, co-workers and church members who are struggling. Be present for them.
Prayer: God of Hope, thank you for being with me even in difficulty.
Evening reading: Ps 126, 62
Discussion Question (reply in comments):
When times are tough, are you more or less likely to reach out to God and/or your community?
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Advent, Week 1: Wholly Holy
Today's readings: Ps 50, 147:1-11, Amos 3:12-4:5, 2 Peter 3:1-10, Matt 21:23-32
What do we think Amos might have to say about the sexual abuse scandal at Penn State? How might he respond to involved parties who claim they acted responsibly by fulfilling the minimum policy or legal requirements? Today’s reading from chapter 4 gives us a pretty good idea. Amos tells the Israelites God is tired of hearing them brag about their burnt offerings and tithes while they “oppress the poor and crush the needy” (Amos 4:1). It seems the tendency to confuse meeting a legal obligation with meeting a moral obligation is a timeless human trait.
That’s the problem with trying to be “holy” - we can check off a list of do’s and don'ts without truly encountering God or even other human beings. In the parable of the two sons found in Matthew, one child is rebellious but eventually does the right thing, and another pays lip service but is ultimately disobedient. Since parables are open to multiple interpretations, perhaps one interpretation is that attempting to appease God when our hearts are insincere is less acceptable than a messy struggle to find our way to God’s true calling. Amos and Christ both make it clear God does not desire for us to be holy humans, so much as for us to be wholly human, following God’s call beyond the realm of minimum requirements to a kingdom where the law is love.
We’re all tempted to be satisfied with the minimum. It’s difficult, confusing work to determine how to act in the absence of specific instruction. Sometimes it’s risky in very real ways, and we can always find excuses to avoid the risk. We may tell ourselves inviting a homeless person to stay with us—or simply welcoming them into our home for a hot meal—is dangerous, impractical, and disruptive. We may decide reporting suspected abuse, even in our own families, will expose us to embarrassment or retaliation. We can pray for the needy on Sunday and pass a beggar on the same street corner all week long without ever considering it might not be a scam. What good does it do us in the eyes of God to be holy, if we do not accept the wholeness God offers us?
Comfort: Life is only messy when you live it.
Challenge: For one day, love extravagantly rather than practically.
Prayer: God of Hope, write on my heart the law of love.
Evening reading: Ps 53, 17
Discussion Question: When have you settled for the minimum (at work, in a relationship, spiritually, etc) insteading of taking a risk?
What do we think Amos might have to say about the sexual abuse scandal at Penn State? How might he respond to involved parties who claim they acted responsibly by fulfilling the minimum policy or legal requirements? Today’s reading from chapter 4 gives us a pretty good idea. Amos tells the Israelites God is tired of hearing them brag about their burnt offerings and tithes while they “oppress the poor and crush the needy” (Amos 4:1). It seems the tendency to confuse meeting a legal obligation with meeting a moral obligation is a timeless human trait.
That’s the problem with trying to be “holy” - we can check off a list of do’s and don'ts without truly encountering God or even other human beings. In the parable of the two sons found in Matthew, one child is rebellious but eventually does the right thing, and another pays lip service but is ultimately disobedient. Since parables are open to multiple interpretations, perhaps one interpretation is that attempting to appease God when our hearts are insincere is less acceptable than a messy struggle to find our way to God’s true calling. Amos and Christ both make it clear God does not desire for us to be holy humans, so much as for us to be wholly human, following God’s call beyond the realm of minimum requirements to a kingdom where the law is love.
We’re all tempted to be satisfied with the minimum. It’s difficult, confusing work to determine how to act in the absence of specific instruction. Sometimes it’s risky in very real ways, and we can always find excuses to avoid the risk. We may tell ourselves inviting a homeless person to stay with us—or simply welcoming them into our home for a hot meal—is dangerous, impractical, and disruptive. We may decide reporting suspected abuse, even in our own families, will expose us to embarrassment or retaliation. We can pray for the needy on Sunday and pass a beggar on the same street corner all week long without ever considering it might not be a scam. What good does it do us in the eyes of God to be holy, if we do not accept the wholeness God offers us?
Comfort: Life is only messy when you live it.
Challenge: For one day, love extravagantly rather than practically.
Prayer: God of Hope, write on my heart the law of love.
Evening reading: Ps 53, 17
Discussion Question: When have you settled for the minimum (at work, in a relationship, spiritually, etc) insteading of taking a risk?
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Hoping without Expecting
Today's readings: Ps 33, 146, Amos 3:1-11, 2 Peter 1:12-21, Matt 21:12-22
One of the great comforts of Advent is knowing that it will culminate in Christmas. This conclusion is such a given that most of us spend what is really the Advent season surrounded by Christmas trappings. But what if we weren’t so sure? What if we, like the Jews waiting for the Messiah, had no idea what was coming or how it would look when it got here?
Today’s psalms remind us we are foolish to place our hope in anyone or anything but God. The subsequent readings make it clear we would be wise not to wrap that hope in too many assumptions. Amos’ harsh word to the Israelites is that the hard times they are about to experience are a result of God’s love (Amos 3:2). Who saw that one coming? And Jesus confounds both contemporary and historical expectations when he curses a fig tree for failing to bear fruit. This action doesn’t fit comfortably with our present-day notion of a loving and forgiving Christ, and it was no less confusing for the disciples. (Matt 21:18-21).
Again and again, the God we trust defies our expectations and pre-definitions. To paraphrase John Lennon, “God is what happens while you are making other plans.” When we pray “Thy will be done,” are we really abandoning attachment to our own wills, or do we usually have a pretty good idea of what God’s will might be?
This Advent, can we hope without expecting? Can we, like Peter, admit God’s will is not defined by our interpretation, but by a love and spirit that is beyond definition (2 Peter 1:19-20)? Can we be open to the possibility that God’s will may take us places we don’t want to go with people we don’t want to know? The familiar manger scene that completes the Advent journey is only comforting because it has grown familiar. For Mary and Joseph, it was the terror of giving birth in a barn. Neither of them wanted to be there. Yet despite dashed expectations, their hope was rewarded. This Advent season, let’s commit to an unknown path instead of a well-worn rut, and find out where Hope can lead us.
Comfort: We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our help and our shield (Ps 33:20).
Challenge: Change one thing about your Christmas traditions.
Prayer: God of Hope, Thy will be done.
Evening reading: Ps 85, 94
Discussion Question: Have you ever experienced a blessing when your expectations were overturned?
One of the great comforts of Advent is knowing that it will culminate in Christmas. This conclusion is such a given that most of us spend what is really the Advent season surrounded by Christmas trappings. But what if we weren’t so sure? What if we, like the Jews waiting for the Messiah, had no idea what was coming or how it would look when it got here?
Today’s psalms remind us we are foolish to place our hope in anyone or anything but God. The subsequent readings make it clear we would be wise not to wrap that hope in too many assumptions. Amos’ harsh word to the Israelites is that the hard times they are about to experience are a result of God’s love (Amos 3:2). Who saw that one coming? And Jesus confounds both contemporary and historical expectations when he curses a fig tree for failing to bear fruit. This action doesn’t fit comfortably with our present-day notion of a loving and forgiving Christ, and it was no less confusing for the disciples. (Matt 21:18-21).
Again and again, the God we trust defies our expectations and pre-definitions. To paraphrase John Lennon, “God is what happens while you are making other plans.” When we pray “Thy will be done,” are we really abandoning attachment to our own wills, or do we usually have a pretty good idea of what God’s will might be?
This Advent, can we hope without expecting? Can we, like Peter, admit God’s will is not defined by our interpretation, but by a love and spirit that is beyond definition (2 Peter 1:19-20)? Can we be open to the possibility that God’s will may take us places we don’t want to go with people we don’t want to know? The familiar manger scene that completes the Advent journey is only comforting because it has grown familiar. For Mary and Joseph, it was the terror of giving birth in a barn. Neither of them wanted to be there. Yet despite dashed expectations, their hope was rewarded. This Advent season, let’s commit to an unknown path instead of a well-worn rut, and find out where Hope can lead us.
Comfort: We wait in hope for the Lord; He is our help and our shield (Ps 33:20).
Challenge: Change one thing about your Christmas traditions.
Prayer: God of Hope, Thy will be done.
Evening reading: Ps 85, 94
Discussion Question: Have you ever experienced a blessing when your expectations were overturned?
Monday, November 28, 2011
Advent, Week 1: Training Days
Today’s readings: Ps 122, 145; Amos 2:6-16; 2 Pet 1:1-11; Matt 21:1-11
Musicians. Athletes. Surgeons. Anyone truly dedicated to a craft, skill or study knows the process of growth and improvement never ends. Reaching the next level of performance requires dedication and practice. Each new level reveals previously unimagined possibilities. But every level contains echoes of the ones before it. When the quest for improvement seems stalled, performers often find revisiting the basics unlocks a breakthrough. Some early disciples were ineffective and unproductive - coasting on salvation and “forgetting they had been cleansed” (2 Pet 1:8-9). Effective disciples – like high-level performers – are humble enough to re-visit their roots and keep up the basics. Peter reminded his readers that goodness, knowledge, self-control and other Godly traits are not one-time achievements, but more like muscles in need of constant training.
The world certainly does not teach us excellence should result in increased humility, but then the world’s standards for success are not God’s standards. Christ was humble until death – the ultimate failure by worldly standards. So training our spiritual muscles may sting a little when the world judges us. Sometimes we have to sacrifice things like material goods and popularity in order to pack on the spiritual muscle. We may be uncomfortable defying the common perception of success. In the end we are stronger for it, and we learn that these pains are temporary and negligible in light of the rewards of the next plateau.
In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell suggests outstanding excellence in a skill requires 10,000 dedicated hours of practice. Subjecting yourself to the same thing for 10,000 hours? That requires both humility and a high tolerance for repetition (including failures). How many of us can say we’ve dedicated the equivalent of five years at a full time job to honing our spiritual lives? Even at a rate of a solid hour a day, we’re talking more than 27 years.
The good news is we don’t need a special hour of prayer or meditation (though they can only help); with a little effort and intent we can incorporate our spiritual practice into most (if not all) of our waking hours. It’s no accident that Amos accuses Israel of selling the innocent for silver (Amos 2:6) and that we know the same will happen to Christ. The cyclical nature of creation permeates everything, including our spiritual practices. Refraining from gossip today makes it easier to refrain from slander tomorrow. As abuse follows a cycle, so does virtue. Be open to practicing perseverance, godliness and love in even the smallest situations today, and you’ll be a muscularly spiritual genius when the world needs it!
Comfort: It’s never too late to build your Christian muscles.
Challenge: Start tracking your spiritual progress like a training program.
Prayer: God of Hope, strengthen me.
Evening reading: Ps 40, 67
Musicians. Athletes. Surgeons. Anyone truly dedicated to a craft, skill or study knows the process of growth and improvement never ends. Reaching the next level of performance requires dedication and practice. Each new level reveals previously unimagined possibilities. But every level contains echoes of the ones before it. When the quest for improvement seems stalled, performers often find revisiting the basics unlocks a breakthrough. Some early disciples were ineffective and unproductive - coasting on salvation and “forgetting they had been cleansed” (2 Pet 1:8-9). Effective disciples – like high-level performers – are humble enough to re-visit their roots and keep up the basics. Peter reminded his readers that goodness, knowledge, self-control and other Godly traits are not one-time achievements, but more like muscles in need of constant training.
The world certainly does not teach us excellence should result in increased humility, but then the world’s standards for success are not God’s standards. Christ was humble until death – the ultimate failure by worldly standards. So training our spiritual muscles may sting a little when the world judges us. Sometimes we have to sacrifice things like material goods and popularity in order to pack on the spiritual muscle. We may be uncomfortable defying the common perception of success. In the end we are stronger for it, and we learn that these pains are temporary and negligible in light of the rewards of the next plateau.
In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell suggests outstanding excellence in a skill requires 10,000 dedicated hours of practice. Subjecting yourself to the same thing for 10,000 hours? That requires both humility and a high tolerance for repetition (including failures). How many of us can say we’ve dedicated the equivalent of five years at a full time job to honing our spiritual lives? Even at a rate of a solid hour a day, we’re talking more than 27 years.
The good news is we don’t need a special hour of prayer or meditation (though they can only help); with a little effort and intent we can incorporate our spiritual practice into most (if not all) of our waking hours. It’s no accident that Amos accuses Israel of selling the innocent for silver (Amos 2:6) and that we know the same will happen to Christ. The cyclical nature of creation permeates everything, including our spiritual practices. Refraining from gossip today makes it easier to refrain from slander tomorrow. As abuse follows a cycle, so does virtue. Be open to practicing perseverance, godliness and love in even the smallest situations today, and you’ll be a muscularly spiritual genius when the world needs it!
Comfort: It’s never too late to build your Christian muscles.
Challenge: Start tracking your spiritual progress like a training program.
Prayer: God of Hope, strengthen me.
Evening reading: Ps 40, 67
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Advent, Week 1: Keeping House
Today’s readings: Ps 24,150; Amos 1:1-2:8; 1 Thess 5:1-11; Luke 21:5-19
Today, the first Sunday of Advent, marks the beginning of the Christian year and the beginning of our journey toward Christmas, when we celebrate the arrival of Christ in the world. So why do our readings focus on endings?
During Advent we focus on preparing our hearts for the arrival of Christ. Even though we just did the same thing a year ago, our preparation is an ongoing effort, because Christ and God can always find new and broader doors into our hearts – if we have swept he way clear. Like the Thessalonians, we may need reminding that Christians live in a constant state of preparedness. Most of us may no longer be expecting Christ to return to Earth at any minute, but he may appear in our hearts at any time. We don’t want to respond like an embarrassed homeowner, crying “Come back later when I’ve tidied up!” Like a seasonal cleaning, Advent is a time to take stock and rid ourselves of the obstructions we may have accumulated so we can start fresh. Our lives and hearts don’t need to be in perfect order, but we should at least be able to let Christ through the door.
“But wait,” we may say, “I have been right with the Lord for a long time.” Tell it to Israel, or Judah, or any of the kingdoms that Amos says have fallen out of God’s favor. When these once-oppressed people rose to power, they grew as corrupt as the captors they had overcome. They assumed because God had delivered them once, they were in the right. Amos let them know they would have to be brought low again before they could return to acting like God’s people. Human justice is flawed, and when justice or righteousness begins to stink of corruption, it’s time to clean house. When we become certain of our own righteousness, we too are prone to spiritual corruption. If we become complacent about our spiritual growth - if we start to think we’ve grown as much as we need to – we aren’t extending new invitations to Christ, but hoarding photographs of old visits. Our commitment to Christ is more than a photo of an old friend in a dusty album. It is an open invitation for Christ to drop in unannounced, and a promise to respond to his strange, new requests.
This cycle of endings is not a cause for despair – it is an offer of hope. God gives us endless opportunity to embrace an increasingly abundant life. Advent formally reminds us once a year, but the opportunity to step into that embrace exists always because God loves us always. Sometimes we just need to clear the doorway to fall into it.
Comfort: God enters our hearts anew every time we offer an invitation!
Challenge: Dedicate yourself this Advent season to preparing your heart for Christ’s arrival. Set aside a little time every day to clean your spiritual house.
Prayer: God of Hope, I am yours: renew me as you will.
Evening reading: Ps 25, 110
Today, the first Sunday of Advent, marks the beginning of the Christian year and the beginning of our journey toward Christmas, when we celebrate the arrival of Christ in the world. So why do our readings focus on endings?
During Advent we focus on preparing our hearts for the arrival of Christ. Even though we just did the same thing a year ago, our preparation is an ongoing effort, because Christ and God can always find new and broader doors into our hearts – if we have swept he way clear. Like the Thessalonians, we may need reminding that Christians live in a constant state of preparedness. Most of us may no longer be expecting Christ to return to Earth at any minute, but he may appear in our hearts at any time. We don’t want to respond like an embarrassed homeowner, crying “Come back later when I’ve tidied up!” Like a seasonal cleaning, Advent is a time to take stock and rid ourselves of the obstructions we may have accumulated so we can start fresh. Our lives and hearts don’t need to be in perfect order, but we should at least be able to let Christ through the door.
“But wait,” we may say, “I have been right with the Lord for a long time.” Tell it to Israel, or Judah, or any of the kingdoms that Amos says have fallen out of God’s favor. When these once-oppressed people rose to power, they grew as corrupt as the captors they had overcome. They assumed because God had delivered them once, they were in the right. Amos let them know they would have to be brought low again before they could return to acting like God’s people. Human justice is flawed, and when justice or righteousness begins to stink of corruption, it’s time to clean house. When we become certain of our own righteousness, we too are prone to spiritual corruption. If we become complacent about our spiritual growth - if we start to think we’ve grown as much as we need to – we aren’t extending new invitations to Christ, but hoarding photographs of old visits. Our commitment to Christ is more than a photo of an old friend in a dusty album. It is an open invitation for Christ to drop in unannounced, and a promise to respond to his strange, new requests.
This cycle of endings is not a cause for despair – it is an offer of hope. God gives us endless opportunity to embrace an increasingly abundant life. Advent formally reminds us once a year, but the opportunity to step into that embrace exists always because God loves us always. Sometimes we just need to clear the doorway to fall into it.
Comfort: God enters our hearts anew every time we offer an invitation!
Challenge: Dedicate yourself this Advent season to preparing your heart for Christ’s arrival. Set aside a little time every day to clean your spiritual house.
Prayer: God of Hope, I am yours: renew me as you will.
Evening reading: Ps 25, 110
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)