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Today's readings: Psalms 111; 148; 1 Kings 19:9-18; Ephesians 4:17-32; John 6:15-27

When we find ourselves in a disagreement, most of us have a natural tendency to raise our voices. As the discussion becomes more heated, we try to convince each other through sheer volume. However, many communication experts tell us the best way to be heard – in an argument, or whenever we need to emphasize a point – is to speak more softly. Doing so decreases aggression in others, and compels them to focus and listen.

The prophet Elijah learned God did not speak through mountain-cracking winds, rumbling earthquakes, or roaring fires … but was present in the still silence that followed (1 Kings 19:11-13). When Jesus needed to rest in God's presence, he retreated to quiet isolation (John 6:15). Paul tells the Ephesians to speak only those words that build up (Eph 4:29), certainly not the sort of words that are loud or argumentative. In a world where even religious voices are often shrill, are we placing enough value on silence?

Silence is not only something we should seek, but something we can help produce. Saint Francis of Assisi is sometimes credited with saying: "Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary." It's not really his saying, but is very much in the spirit of his teachings. Our society emphasizes the persuasiveness of words (thus the steady appeal of talk radio and blogs), but relatively few people are "talked into" faith. We listen most eagerly to words that echo what we already believe. Attitudes and beliefs are changed most often by experiences. If we are to be the hands of Christ, perhaps those hands are most authentically experienced when they are offered silently in comfort or prayer.

Of course there is nothing inherently evil about words, even those spoken loudly if they are for a just cause, but we must remember they are merely symbols of the ideas they represent.  If they become a stumbling block, we can dispense with them. If our actions betray our words, we are better off not using them. If we want to teach someone about our faith, quiet, loving actions are a solid beginning. Jesus is the Logos – the Word made flesh: what other words could possibly serve us better?

Evening readings: Psalms 107; 15

Gifted Children

Today's readings: Psalms 48; 147:12-20; 1 Kings 19:1-8; Ephesians 4:1-16; John 6:1-14

We have an odd relationship with gifts. Some of them, the ones that are just the ones we want or didn’t know we wanted – can be treasured for a lifetime. Others, like a ceramic lamp given to you by a beloved relative but not quite to your taste, can be a burden – especially if you feel obliged to put it out when she visits. Giving gifts can be an equally mixed experience. It’s a joy when we know just what to give or stumble across the perfect item, and it’s a painful obligation to select a gift when we are uninspired.

Gifts from God can be the same way. We may value them, as Paul valued the spiritual gifts of the
church at Ephesus (Eph 4:1-8). We may feel they are burdens, as did Elijah who ran and hid when the consequences of his prophetic gift became dangerous (1 Kings 19:1-8). Or like the apostle Andrew, who never imagined five loaves and two fishes would feed thousands, we may not even recognize how mighty they are (John 6:8-9).  In the end, no matter how we feel about them, gifts are meant to be used: to do any less is to fail be to be true to ourselves and to God.

While we shouldn’t underestimate our gifts, we shouldn’t overestimate them either. They don’t exist in a vacuum, and are most effective when combined with the gifts of others. The gifts of a community support and amplify each other. Some provide vision, some provide funds, and some provide skill. As Paul told the Ephesians, “we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love” (Eph 4:15b-16).

Let us embrace both our gifts and their limits. Let us neither neglect nor boast of them. Let us embrace the gifts of the community so each may multiply the fruits of the others. Each child of God is a gifted child. Living into those gifts and encouraging others to do so makes us participants in the realm of God that yearns to break though into the world.

Evening readings: Psalms 9; 29

By Any Other Name

Today's readings: Psalms 98; 147:1-11; Isaiah 62:1-5, 10-12; Revelation 19:11-16; Matthew 1:18-25

Biblical names – especially ones changed or bestowed by God – tell a story about the person to whom they belong. In today’s reading from Isaiah, the prophet tells the people of Israel that when God restores them, the name of their nation shall change from “Forsaken” to “My Delight Is In Her,” from “Desolate” to “Married” - symbolizing Israel’s relationship with God (Isa 62:2-4). It’s no coincidence that Joseph, the betrothed of Mary, receives instructions from God in dreams (Matt 1:18-25, and elsewhere); in the book of Genesis we met another Joseph who interpreted dreams and brought his family into Egypt.

Names are important to us, too. We are concerned with protecting our “good name.” We strive to “make a name” for ourselves. We agonize over picking just the right names for our children. If you were in a Bible story, what would your name mean to people? Solomon is synonymous with wisdom, Job with patience, and Methuselah with longevity. If two thousand years from now people read the story of your life, what traits would your name conjure? Are you satisfied with that image?

If yes, that’s an excellent indicator you are on the right path. If not … it’s never too late to make that name mean what you want. If you could pick a name to live up to, what would it be? Faith, Hope and Charity are names for a reason. Maybe you would choose something more literal, like “Comforts The Sick” or “Works for Justice.” What name describes the person you want to be? “Wise as Solomon” is taken, but there’s no reason people of the future couldn’t strive to be as “generous as Hector.”

What difference might it make in our personal and public lives if we started thinking of ourselves by another name, one we chose to define us? Or if we lived as though our current name already meant the thing we hope to be? New beginnings are possible at any time, but only if we are willing to let go of the limits we and the world have placed on our identities. A newly defined name, even one known only to you and God, is a good start.

Evening readings: Psalms 99; 8