In God We Trust

Today's readings: Psalms 104; 149, Genesis 6:9-22, Hebrews 4:1-13, John 2:13-22

In Jesus’ time, monetary offerings made to the Jewish temple needed to be in Jewish currency. Since the standard currency was Roman, money changers set up shop inside the temple and exchanged currency for high fees. They also sold sacrificial animals at high prices. The money changers knew they had a captive audience of faithful Jews who had access to neither of these things on their own. Jesus reacted to their presence in the holy temple by overturning their tables and driving them out with a corded whip – his only violent reaction to people in any of the Gospels.

Jesus and the Money Changers by Balage Balogh

In the Middle Ages, some clergy traded indulgences (the reduction of penance) for alms (charitable gifts). Abuse of this practice – basically selling forgiveness for cash donations – was one of the major issues that drove Martin Luther to launch the reformation. Today televangelists find ever more sophisticated ways of parting the faithful from their money by selling them goods, services and empty promises. Many churches offer enlightenment, access, or authority only to those who can afford to pay dearly for it.

Charity is an important part of a Christian life, but never trust anyone who attempts to use your desire for a closer relationship with God for monetary gain. And be wary of anyone who believes large offerings should buy them special privileges in church – the flip side of the same counterfeit coin. If you believe Jesus died for our sins, then the price has been paid in full. If you aren’t convinced of atonement theology, remember Jesus’ reaction to those who profited off the faithful. Drive the modern day money changers out of your life and don’t feel a need to be gentle about it. Your relationship with God depends on you and God and no one else.

Anyone truly interested in helping you grow your faith won’t charge you. Of course preachers need to eat and churches need to keep the lights on, but how much you are able or willing to contribute financially should not influence their willingness to be Christ’s hands when you need them.  God’s love and forgiveness is free. You can take that to the bank.

Evening readings: Psalms 138; 98

The (Not So) Good Old Days

Today's readings: Psalms 97; 147:12-20, Genesis 4:17-26, Hebrews 3:1-11, John 1:43-51

The good old days, according to Biblical history, don’t get any older than the time of Adam and Eve. Rather than a simpler time when people were decent, the first generations of humans dabbled in murder. Adam and Eve may be the model for traditional marriage, but their descendants practiced polygamy while the original couple was still alive (Gen 4:19-26). Whether these stories are factual or not, they tell us human society has not degraded, but has always had issues.

What about the more recent good old days? The era of Leave It To Beaver might have been great for white, Christian men, but for people of color, women, and religious minorities it was a time of oppression. Most of us, especially those who grew up enjoying a privilege we didn’t realize we had, do not understand what a complicated and dangerous world it is until we live in it as adults. We are nostalgic for a time that never actually existed, but which seems better because we were not fully capable of comprehending and despairing of its complexities.

The writer of Ecclesiastes claimed that even in his time, there was nothing new under the sun. He surely didn’t anticipate the iPhone, but as far as human nature goes, he remains correct. We are capable of the same atrocities and acts of kindness as we have always been. However, despite the hype of the 24-hour news cycle, statistics show that violence in the world has been steadily decreasing for decades. The good old days were simply … not.

When we feel overwhelmed by the world, let’s not pine for a past that never was. Instead, let’s focus on introducing God’s realm into the troubles of the present. It is by facing the world head on, while relying on the assurances of Christ, that we create a better future.

Evening readings: Psalms 16; 62

The Devil Did Not Make You Do It

Today's readings: Psalms 42; 146; Genesis 3:1-24; Hebrews 2:1-10; John 1:19-28

Temptation is a tricky devil. We tend to speak about it as though it lives outside of us. Though most people are speaking metaphorically when they say "The Devil made me do it!" the sentiment behind the phrase is fairly common. We don't like admitting our darker desires might originate in our own minds and hearts. It's convenient to shift blame to external forces. And if we act on those impulses … guilt is a powerful incentive to duck responsibility.

Today's reading from Genesis is well-known even outside religious circles. The serpent tempting Eve to eat the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is such a recognizable image that ad campaigns often reference it.  Gender studies examine how Eve's role in offering the fruit to Adam has been exploited to paint women as seductresses who lead men to sin. The story influences many cultures, and illustrates how we think about temptation.

While the serpent is traditionally the villain of the tale, note that no one remains blameless– God punishes the serpent, the man, and the woman. "She made me do it!" is not an acceptable excuse. Do we suppose Eve spent the rest of her days cursing the serpent? Or that Adam couldn't stop mumbling about her under his breath? We never learn whether anyone took ownership of his or her own actions.

Do we claim responsibility for our actions? As a society of armchair therapists, we have become adept at rationalizing and identifying (correctly or not) the roots of our own temptations and unhealthy behaviors. Too often this is where we stop, and a diagnosis becomes an excuse. Everyone has heard (or said) some variation on "I was mistreated so I behave badly." Explanations are only a start – real healing moves us beyond them. Certainly people can tempt us with opportunities, but we make the choices. Until we admit we knowingly and willingly ate the fruit, we aren't equipped to resist the next bite. We also aren't able to forgive ourselves or – more importantly – know God has forgiven us.

Temptation is inevitable. Our response to it is not, as long as we don't blame the serpent.

Evening Psalms 102; 133

Letting Go

Today's readings: Psalms 104; 150; Genesis 1:1-2:3; Ephesians 1:3-14; Reading John 1:29-34

Artists will often say a work of art is never perfected, but eventually it has to be finished enough for public consumption. According to Genesis, God created the world in six days. At the end of each day, he looked upon what he had created and pronounced it good. Conceivably God could have kept on creating indefinitely and brought into existence things we can’t even imagine, but on the seventh day he rested. Whether or not we believe a literal creation account, at least one thing remains true: after the foundation of the universe was laid, God handed over the reins and let human history unfold on its own.

When Jesus showed up at the River Jordan to be baptized by his cousin, John knew his job was finished. He acknowledged the superior rank of Jesus and gracefully stepped aside, saying: “I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” (John 1:31). Someone else might have tried to hold onto the influence John exerted over his own disciples, but John willingly let them follow Jesus instead. John trusted Jesus to carry on the faithful work he had begun.

How good are we at recognizing when our work is finished? If God and John the Baptist could trust others to carry on and tend to their creations, why do we sometimes have trouble letting go? Maybe it’s a ministry we started at church, or a project at work, or even our children: at some point we must admit we have done all we can do – all we should do – and relinquish control. This can be a scary thing to do, but if we do not the fruit of our labor is more likely to strangle on the vine than ripen in the sun.

Conviction is good. Perseverance is good. Stubbornness is not so good.  Stubbornness is a cage that holds us only because we refuse to unlock it. When we can’t recognize our leg of the race is done and pass the torch to the next person, both we and the torch are likely to burn out before the finish line is reached. Better to pass it along, celebrate the joy of sharing the burden with the next runner, and enjoy a day of rest. Who knows what me might pick up next?

Evening readings:  Psalm 29

Servant Leaders

Today's readings: Psalms 46 or 47; 149; Isaiah 65:13-16; Revelation 3:7-13; John 6:15-27

What would you do if the public wanted to crown you king or queen? Would you embrace it? Would you run away? Jesus chose the latter. After he fed thousands of people with just a few loaves and fishes, they wanted to make him king – by force if necessary. He escaped to the mountain to be alone.

When God told Isaiah he was to be a prophet, Isaiah resisted. He declared to God all the ways he felt unworthy of being God’s voice. Many (most?) of the prophets chronicled in the Bible resisted God’s call. As far back as Moses, who blamed his speech impediment and tried to push the job off on his brother Aaron – the people God has chosen to lead have shown reluctance.

When God knocks on the door, even to tell us we are fit to lead, we should be a little hesitant, maybe even fearful. The call is rarely easy. In his wisdom, God does not tend to choose leaders who are eager to embrace authority and power. Contrast this to our present-day system of secular leadership, where candidates spend millions of dollars telling you why they are unquestionably qualified for leadership, and their opponents barely deserve to participate in civil society. And religious leaders who seek power? We should always keep a critical eye on them.

Of course there are differences between people who seek power, and people who rise naturally to positions of leadership. For starters, the latter is much less common. The ability to acquire power is nothing like the ability to wield it wisely and justly. In hierarchical organizations, someone has to be at the top. The person who is the most eager, or eloquent, or assertive is not necessarily the best choice. The true sign of faithful leaders is a desire to serve not a term of office but the people who depend on them.

In God’s kingdom the last are first and the first are last. A true leader does not fear other leaders, but encourages them. A true leader does not control subjects, but empowers people. When we are called to leadership -  by God, people, or circumstance  - let us consider it humbly and prayerfully. When God calls us to lead, he calls us to serve.

Evening Psalms 27; 93 or 114

Humble Piety

Today's readings:  Psalms 46 or 47; 148; Isaiah 65:1-9; Revelation 3:1-6; John 6:1-14

The Gospels may be "The Good News," but a lot of Jesus' message is old hat. Centuries before Jesus taught people of his day that true obedience to God means embodying a spirit of mercy and justice - rather than mercilessly following the letter of the law - Old Testament prophets had tried to deliver the same message. Isaiah told the exiled nation of Israel she had lost God's favor because of her "holier than thou" attitude (not even paraphrasing - see Isaiah 65:5). Their burnt offerings, once a pleasing fragrance, became a stench in God's nostrils as they substituted outward piety for love and mercy.

Flash forward 800 years, and no one seems to have learned anything. The occupying force may have changed from Babylon to Rome, but the Jewish people still needed to hear they were like whitewashed tombs - dressed up on the outside, but decaying inside (Matt 23:27). Flash forward another millenium or two and - no surprise - followers of Jesus need to hear we might be a little too focused on displays of piety and not enough on mercy. Who are the prophets of the message this time? Certainly many voices from within the church, but more telling are the voices of outsiders looking in. Surveys consistently reveal that non-Christians perceive Christians as hypocritical and judgmental. When non-believers are filling in for Isaiah and Jesus, it's time to take note.

Misplaced piety seems to be a chronic condition of the faithful. And lest we begin to feel too superior for reigning in our own pious impulses ... that's a form of it also. The good (old) news is that prophets speak because there is always hope we will listen and change our ways. Sowing mercy and justice is challenging work. It's much more comfortable to check off lists and to follow familiar rules than to listen to the voices telling us we need to reevaluate what we think God wants from us - especially when that might mean others will look down on us. When we feel challenged, "Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches" (Rev 3:6).

Evening readings: Psalms 27; 93 or 114

Bread: Different Slices

Today's readings: Psalms 97, 146; Deuteronomy 8:1-3; Colossians 1:1-14; John 6:30-33, 48-51

Scripture is multi-layered. For example, when we think of bread in a Biblical context, many interrelated images come to mind. First and foremost is Jesus as the bread of life, as mentioned in today's reading from John (v 32). There's also the story of manna - the "bread from heaven" that God sent to feed the Israelites as they wandered the desert; this is mentioned in John and also in our reading from Deuteronomy. The author of Deuteronomy says manna was sent not just for survival, but to teach God's people "that one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD" (v 3). If we bounce this idea against John's  description of Jesus as the Logos - the Word of God made flesh - we come full circle in understanding that God has always been providing for our physical needs, while teaching us we are more than merely the sum of those needs.

If scripture is multi-layered, human beings are even more so, processing our lives in many ways at the same time. We are constantly aware of our need for physical bread - that is, anything that serves and sustains our physical bodies. But our souls long for another kind of nourishment, a spiritual nourishment that helps us find meaning and make sense of the world. And sometimes these seem to be at odds.

Some of us find meaning and sense in reason, in the chemistry of the bread recipe and the laws of nature that explain why the bread rises. Others find them in faith, in the eternal truths about love, mercy and grace that defy any recipe or calculation. Unfortunately, many people feel they must choose one or the other, and buy into the idea that a gap exists between them. But scripture tells us one does not live by ordinary bread alone: that use of "alone" indicates we need both types of bread in our lives - one to sustain our mortal lives and the other to feed us for eternal life. Both are from God, and both represent  realities we live in as children of God. Too much or not enough of either, and we fail to live fully. A well-balanced diet of faith and reason keeps our intellects and spirits healthy.

Evening readings: Psalms 27, 93h

And Justice For All

Today's readings: Psalms 72; 145; Isaiah 49:1-7; Revelation 21:22-27; Matthew 12:14-21

The Gospels cite many passages from the Old Testament, particularly the prophets. Today’s reading from Matthew cites four verses from Isaiah which describe the humble way in which Jesus undertakes his mission of justice and mercy. The words originally applied to the exiled nation of Israel, similarly called by God to be a light to the world.

This call to justice is interesting, because it can be applied both internally and externally. Internally, Jesus is reminding the Jews that God desires mercy above sacrifice (he has just been condemned by religious leaders for committing the “sin” of performing a healing on the Sabbath). Externally, his message of justice for everyone is a thorn in the side of the Roman empire. No one is blameless, but all are worth redeeming.

It’s good to keep that thought in mind as we navigate through the modern world as well. When we perceive ourselves as the victims or the oppressed, it can be easy to overlook our own shortcomings. For evidence of this we can look to Washington, where each political party, once it takes power, attempts to justify behavior it has recently condemned in the other. Or we can look to the Christian church in America: as Americans become more diverse in belief and unbelief, many Christians mistake someone else’s free speech for an erosion of their own rights, and - ironically - attempt to clamp down on religious liberties. When the oppressed eventually find themselves in the position to oppress, our lesser nature usually asserts itself.

How can we avoid that trap? One way is to always focus on justice for others while we are seeking justice for ourselves. Martin Luther King famously said “"if one of us is not free, then none of us are truly free." Being oppressed by the Romans didn’t make the Jews more merciful to their own widows and orphans, so we should not assume that because we are oppressed we must be in the right, individually or as a group.

When Jesus tells us to pray for our enemies it is not just to adjust their attitude towards us, but equally to soften our hearts toward them.

Evening readings: Psalms 100; 67

Dressing Up For Jesus

Today's readings: Psalms 99; 150; Kings 3:5-14; Colossians 3:12-17; John 6:41-47

“The clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.”

- Mark Twain

As Christians we try not to judge others by appearances, but like it or not appearances matter. Even if we are not judging, we are being judged. Should we care? Not if we are judged for having the wrong handbag or shoes, but we should be concerned if we appear to lack the traits that mark a Christian.

If someone claims to be a professional mountain climber, yet lacks all the basic equipment, that person appears to be delusional or a liar. If we claim to have Jesus in our hearts yet our lives show no outward signs, we will be judged. While there’s nothing wrong with a Jesus fish on your bumper, a scripture quote in your email signature, or a t-shirt declaring you have been saved, these things don’t really show people you are following Christ any more than a subscription to Popular Science tells people you deserve a Nobel prize in physics.

Paul tells us what Christian garments look like: compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, and love (Col 3:12,14). “Dressing for success” in God’s kingdom – unlike the workplace, social club or evening of speed dating – is not about promoting ourselves, but about promoting others. Whether we are wearing designer fashions or ragged hand-me-downs, our spiritual garments shine through. If we are spiritually “naked,” no John 3:16 coffee mug or collection of Sunday bulletins is going to convince someone otherwise.

Our spiritual appearance does affect society. It tells both individuals and the world whether they should expect Christians to be hypocrites or authentic followers of Christ. If we claim a salvation that frees us from guilt but does not otherwise transform us, the world soon sees the emperor has no clothes. The garment that says the most about us is not the one that makes us seem respectable or pious, but the one we give to someone in need.

Evening readings: Psalms 96; 110

. . .

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

One Body to Heal

Today's readings: Psalms 51, 148; 2 Kings 23:36-24:17; 1 Corinthians 12:12-26; Matthew 9:27-34

If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.

- 1 Corinthians 12:26

Today’s reading from 1 Corinthians can be read on many levels. It is often used to describe the importance of each person’s role in the body of Christ and to celebrate the many gifts they contribute. It also describes the importance of diversity within the church. Read in context with today’s healing story in Matthew, there is yet another meaning.

When one part of the body is sick, it depends on the others for healing. An ailing tooth does not walk itself into a dentist’s office, but relies on the feet. A foot with a splinter cannot remedy itself, but depends on the hands to remove it. Hands that tremble from hunger cannot feed themselves, but rely on the mouth and teeth to chew and swallow. Each part is not only equally important, it is equally interdependent.

As members of the body of Christ, we must rely on each other and be present for each other in times of illness and distress. None of us is completely self-sufficient. We receive care when we need it, and we offer care when it is needed. And as the feet don’t feel burdened by the tooth, and the hands don’t feel burdened by the feet, we do so not out of obligation nor to secure help for ourselves in the future, but because we are one. The well-being of one is inseparable from the well-being of others.

Christ was extravagant in his love was for all people. Christ was extravagant in his healing. As we are now his body, we are called to the same extravagance. Let us heal not out of duty, but out of extravagant love.

Evening readings: Psalms 142, 65

The Communion Equation

Today's readings: Psalms 89:1-18, 147:1-11; 2 Kings 22:14-23:3; 1 Corinthians 11:23-34; Matthew 9:9-17

The Lord’s Supper – communion – is the oldest of Christian traditions. It is breathtaking in its meaning and simplicity. Every time we partake of the bread and cup, we remember the meaning of Christ’s sacrifice for us, and strengthen the bonds of our faith community. It unites us not only with those at our particular table sharing our particular cup, but with Christians across time and distance.

Did you know the potluck is an equally longstanding tradition? When the early Christians of Corinth gathered for communion, they first shared an Agape Meal (or Love Feast). Everyone brought food to share and they ate in common. After a time, the original intent of the meal was diminished: some who contributed more food felt they should
have a larger portion; some began to get drunk; some were almost as hungry when they left as when they arrived. Divisions and resentments became part of the meal and – worse yet – these attitudes were carried to the communion table. The meal no longer strengthened bonds, but division. Have we seen this happen?

Disagreement is inevitable. An uncharitable attitude is not. At Christ’s table all are equal. Christ himself ate with tax collectors, sinners and all manner of “outcasts” from his community (Matt 9:10-13). When we gather as Christians, we should share our gifts freely and equally. Bringing more food (or money, or time, or a particular talent, or…) to the table does not entitle us to a larger share or more influence. Having less to bring does not mean we go away less satisfied or unheard. Giving and receiving are two sides of the same equation, and we can find ourselves on either side at any time. In this holy algebra, Christ is the sign of equality who unites and balances us.

Evening readings: Psalms 1, 33

The Message IS The Miracle

Today's readings: Psalms 42, 146; 2 Kings 22:1-13; 1 Corinthians 11:2-22; Matthew 9:1-8

Claims of miraculous healings have long been the fundraising bread and butter of a certain vein of preacher. Who among us wouldn't experience an emotional response to seeing the lame walk and hearing a blind person gasp in wonder as she gained or regained her sight? For many spectators, such miracles cement the divine authority of the person alleging to perform them. Without making any judgments on their authenticity, we can still question why these miracles seem to be prized above the simple message of the Gospel: "Your sins are forgiven."

When Jesus told a lame man his sins were forgiven, people accused him of blasphemy. Jesus had to heal the man's infirmity to prove his authority came from God. Jesus's words indicate he was exasperated by having to appease them in this manner, so which action do we believe he valued more? There were lots of professional miracle workers in Jesus' time, so it must have been frustrating that his unique message was lost in the "common" miracle.

While we are wise not to believe every religious claim we hear, we also need to be careful not to believe someone just because they manage to impress us – whether by miracle, education, success or any other factor. We Christians love our miracle and success stories, but they are never more important than the truth they point to. A pastor is not judged by the size of her congregation, but by the message she imparts to them. A congregation is not judged by its material wealth, but by the wealth of the message it shares with the world. And a message is not judged by its eloquence or poetic virtues, but by its effectiveness in helping people understand: "Your sins are forgiven."

Success and authenticity are by no means mutually exclusive, but any time the reputation or ego of a person or organization begins to eclipse the purity of this message, we should be wary of the intent. And no matter how humble the source, if the message is pure we need look no further for its authority.

Evening readings: Psalms 102, 133

Faith and Friction

Today's readings: Psalms 5, 145; 2 Kings 21:1-18; 1 Corinthians 10:14-11:1; Matthew8:28-34

Early followers of Christ lived in a culture where almost every corner had a temple or idol to one deity or another. This created complicated social situations where they had to balance being a loving neighbor (or business partner or customer) against upholding  their principles.   In today's reading from Corinthians, Paul writes about eating meat sacrificed to idols or demons – which would have been forbidden under Jewish law. Instead of declaring such actions sinful or not, he wrote: "'All things are lawful,' but not all things are beneficial. 'All things are lawful,' but not all things build up" (1 Cor 10:23). He advised them their actions should be chosen to strengthen their convictions, and to provide strong witness to people around them.

We face similar challenges. Every day we are called to follow our principles even when they run contrary to social pressures, politics, employers, friends, family, foreign cultures, and fellow people of faith. In some situations, particularly matters of personal ethics, we may simultaneously be judged by some people as too pious, while others see us as terrible sinners. If we remain loving, it don't matter. Christ didn't worry about being called a glutton or a drunkard, and John the Baptist was just fine being a holy freak (Matt 11:18-19). Isn't it liberating to know our allegiance is never to public opinion, but to God, "for why is [our] freedom being judged by another’s conscience?" (v 29).

We are not a people bound by laws and technicalities of action and thought (no matter how much some people might cling to that model). We are a people freed by love and meant to love freely. Our faith is in constant friction with the world. It is up to us to decide whether that friction is a source of irritation, or a source of warmth like two hands rubbing together as if in prayer.

Evening readings: Psalms 82, 29

Too Good To Be False

Today's readings: Psalms 103, 150; 2 Kings 20:1-21; Acts 12:1-17; Luke 7:11-17

[H]e did not realize that what was happening with the angel’s help was real; he thought he was seeing a vision.

Acts 12:9

Have you heard the one about the pious man trapped on his roof by a rising flood? The army, the navy and the marines all came by in boats and offered to rescue him, but he said he was waiting for the Lord to save him. Eventually the flood overwhelmed him. When he got to heaven, he asked God why his prayers went unanswered. God said "I sent you three different boats!"

Peter – Jesus named him "the rock" for a couple reasons – wasn't much better. When an angel came to rescue him from prison, he thought it was a vision; luckily – having experienced visions before – he followed instructions anyway and was freed. When the prophet Isaiah told King Hezekiah the Lord would spare him from death for 15 years so he could lead his people out of bondage, the King wouldn't believe without any less a sign than the sun moving backwards (2 Kings 20:8-11).

Sometimes the Lord's ways aren't all that mysterious, and for some reason that seems to be a stumbling block to faith. We are called to be the hands and feet of Christ (John 14:12), but when those hands and feet aren't pierced with nails or emitting a holy glow, we can struggle to recognize ourselves and others as the answers to prayer. How would it change your perspective on life to realize the answer to your prayer might not be divine intervention, but divinely-inspired human intervention? Or to realize that your action (or maybe just your presence) is the most miraculous thing someone could hope for? After all, the Spirit dwells in each and every one of us. Think on that for a moment…

We are wary of offers that sound too good to be true. A miracle around every corner sounds like one of those. Maybe the wonderful truth is miracles of hope, healing, reconciliation, generosity and comfort are as common as dirt … as long as we are willing to get our hands dirty.

Evening readings: Psalms 117, 139

Roots and Fruits

Today's readings: Psalms 63, 149; 2 Kings 19:21-36; 1 Corinthians 10:1-14; Matthew 8:18-27

The surviving remnant of the house of Judah shall again take root downward, and bear fruit upward.

- 2 Kings 19:3

How deep are your spiritual roots? Deep enough to keep you healthy during times of spiritual drought? Whether your answer is "Yes", "No" or "Good question…" you can always deepen them. One good way is to set aside time for regular spiritual practices. As with anything, the time you dedicate to spiritual practice will improve the results. A neglected garden is soon choked out by weeds and devoured by pests, and a neglected spiritual life is soon choked out and devoured by the demands and distractions of daily life. When we attempt to pluck fruit from either of them, we will very likely be disappointed.

But what does spiritual practice look like? And what if you don't like gardening? Approaches to spiritual practices can range from the Biblical classics of prayer, meditation, and fasting to hiking, music, journaling and - yes - even gardening. A spiritual practice is anything that puts in your touch with your connection to the holy. Regular, intentional practices help our spiritual roots grow deeper and prepare us to better weather hard times and celebrate joyous ones. Find a practice that speaks to you, rather than trying to conform to one someone else prescribes, and it will be easier to maintain.

How high are your spiritual fruits? Probably about as high as your roots are deep. If you aren't sure what gifts you have to share, spend some time discovering what feeds your roots. Chances are your gifts are closely related. And don't waste time comparing them to other people's gifts: it would be pretty foolish of a Granny Smith to spend time regretting it wasn't a watermelon. Your unique gifts are part of a well-balanced spiritual diet for the world. Feed your roots well, and you won't be able to help producing fruits for all to share!

Evening readings: Psalms 125, 190

Prepare Ye

Today's readings: Psalms 42, 146; Deuteronomy 6:16-25; Hebrews 2:1-10; John 1:19-28

When the Pharisees pressed John the Baptist to tell them who he thought he was, he replied: "I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord'" as the prophet Isaiah said (John 1:23). Note that he did not say he was the one making the way straight, but was the one calling others to do so. He offered a rallying cry, but did not take it upon himself to fill the valleys and lower the mountains and level the rugged places (Isaiah 40:4). No, he left those duties to us.

If we look critically at the spiritual landscape of our local community, our nation or our world, can we claim we have carved out a straight path that will allow the glory of the Lord to be revealed to all (Isaiah 40:5)? Let's just say a lot of this highway project remains to be completed. Valleys of poverty too deep to see out of obscure that glory for many people. For others, it's mountains of wealth, power or other worldly distractions that block the line of sight between them and the Lord's revealed glory. How many pairings of mountains and valleys does our world contain? High and low social status. Casually discarding half-empty bottles of water versus surviving off dew gathered on tarps. Piles of diamonds towering above the graves of those who died to excavate them. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could fill all the valleys simply by pushing the mountains into them?

The challenge isn't that simple, and none of us can complete this project alone. Some days the best we can do is to move one teaspoon of earth at a time, and not even all that without spilling some.  But John the Baptist, Isaiah, and all the prophets and saints keep calling to us: "Prepare ye the way of the Lord." As long as we keep to our task - spoon by spoon, shovel by shovel, mountain by mountain - we know the path of the Lord is that much closer to being prepared.

If it all seems overwhelming, perhaps we can begin by evening out the mountains and valleys - those things blocking God from view - in our own hearts. Maybe then we can be one of the countless stepping stones the Lord can use to stride to the places most in need.

Evening readings: Psalms 102, 133

Bootstraps

Today's readings: Psalms 5, 145; Deuteronomy 6:1-15; Hebrews 1:1-14; John 1:1-18

Before the Israelites entered the promised land, God had a few things to say to them. In addition to reinforcing the Law, he warned them not to forget - and not to let their descendants forget - that the houses, cisterns and vineyards they used were not of their own making, but had been provided by God and created by the land's former occupants (Deut 6:10-12). No matter what culture or century we live in, it's good to remember our successes do not occur in a vacuum, but are dependent on what we've received from others.

We like the notion of the self-made man or woman, but it is mostly a myth. Usually when we describe a person as self-made, we mean someone who started from poverty and ended with some amount of wealth. Yet even if they started with no money, someone instilled a work ethic into them, cut them a break by being their first employer or customer, or built the economic system that allowed them to flourish. And while anyone should be commended for using their God-given talents wisely, having talent for financial success is not always under our control. Different people have different abilities, so what comes naturally and seems like common sense to one person may not be so for another. Just as a technical art education isn't guaranteed (and isn't always required) to produce a gifted artist, financial success requires abilities we can not simply will into being.

When we see someone who is not successful, we like to think we would have done better if we'd been in their place. Worked harder. Made smarter choices. The truth is we really don't know who we'd be without the blessings we may not take time to consider as contributing to our achievements. We can take credit for stewarding our gifts, resources and opportunities wisely, but we shouldn't forget we did not create them out of nothing. Keeping this in mind helps us maintain a more charitable attitude. We can be grateful for the blessings we've had without blaming others for the blessings they have not had. We can pull ourselves up by our bootstraps only because they were crafted by a gifted shoemaker.

Evening readings: Psalms 82, 29