The End

2013 ends and I carved out an hour to be thoughtful about it and make note of what ends with it. I even made time to imagine what 2014 might bring in. Oddly, I did all of this with pen and paper. I haven't written that way in many moons, and it has been a lovely discipline these last two days, to feel the urgency of the words reflected in my grip of the pen. I forgot that word/body connection that comes with hand-writing.

I have now given myself 15 minutes to share with you, my writing-reading friends, a few selected thoughts. The place of my more public-private writing in my life is a sweet one, and what it has mostly brought is a tiny sliver of not-so-lonely, knowing that these words of mine land in places I do not know, but are carried by a few others for a minute or two. The you of you making space for my words over these last years has been a great gift to me, and I'm deeply thankful for it. By giving you these words too, I invite you into the circle of accountability that is invisible to be sure, but nonetheless powerful for this heart.

The close of 2013 is the close of a few important things: our financial life as we knew it, our formal churching, and my 30s.  Those are big goodbyes in obvious ways, but there is not much in the way of sadness for me in this. Just a relieved gratitude really. In each of those spaces, there was so much goodness for so long, but in their closing there is now space for something new to show up. I am bidding them each adieu with fondness I guess. At least I am today. I was weeping about each of them at some point in the last year...

Tonight, we will end 2013 and if we can make it, start 2014 with our neighbours. We will share a meal and share opinions and share drinks and shares giggles and probably share a few curse words. I like it so much because I am so hopeful that neighbouring will continue to take up more and more space in my life in the year(s) to come.

As I've thought about the rest of what the year to come could bring, I've kept tripping across the word brave. I won't say more about that now, but that's where I'll end. Be Brave. Do it even when fear is lingering nearby. Do it anyway.  The its are yet to be named, although they are sometimes imagined. But they are there waiting to be done.

Stay tuned. And of course, a very Happy New Year.

Advent 22

This afternoon, my beloved forwarded an email from his chaplain. It's true - there are two or three places left in this world that believe spiritual care for the troops is worthwhile. In this case, the chaplain is a guy I really like, formerly a pastor with a story full of hurt and disappointment and faith and do-overs. He works on the floor with all those other people and I don't think he's too chaplain-y most days.

But today he sat down and wrote a letter to his co-workers. A letter that reminded each of them that this season, full though it may be with icky bits, demands a bit of thoughtfulness maybe. He reminded them that the offer this Advent is hope, peace, joy and love. That all the insanity of the season has at its root a shared hunger for those things and a shared desire to somehow provide them: "Advent is the anticipation of these ingredients being totally full in each of our hearts and in all the people we care about." 

I cried a bit.


Mostly because this afternoon, I ran out of hope. I couldn't find peace anywhere and joy seemed long gone. Happily love was lingering in the living room, but that seemed accidental.

For those in the know, it will not be a surprise that SJ's workplace is about this last place any of us should expect The Light to show up, least of all for me. But alas, from that most unexpected place - in the Bethlehem of our family's world - light shone.

I can't say more about this without being maudlin and over-stating things - I'm in that kind of mood. So I will let the chaplain end it for us. May these words bless you as they blessed me:

May Hope fill your thoughts

May Peace form your actions

May Joy be in your conversations and

May Love enrich everything you see

(But seriously! My husband received these words from someone he works with at his [holy-fuck-has-it-been-bad-there] job! I am astounded. This makes me believe God may love me more than just about anything else this week. Or maybe even year. I am floored.)

Advent 13

I think about what it means to be Jesus-y a lot. I talk about it a fair bit too, with all kinds of people. At work, at parties, at playgrounds... I like hearing what other people think it must mean, and I like hearing what I think it must mean as I puzzle it out with them.  I also like wondering about who God is, and what God is up to. They're not the same to me, God and Jesus. Jesus is the bodied expression of who God is, and the person who's Life and Death and Life Again makes knowing God possible and worthwhile. I probably believe that somehow what we call the Spirit is the animated back and forth between me and that Creator God and that Alive Again Jesus. That all three are all sewn up together into a trinity of something Other and Divine.

I was talking about who God might be with my friend Laura this week. She wondered about praying for what is impossible when it is sometimes nicer to just pray for what is possible instead. There's less disappointment in hoping for what's possible generally speaking. But as she wondered on about daring to ask the Creator of All for what cannot be if we're in charge, for what can only be if God's in charge, she remembered words from Brene Brown. They were words for us to use when we've heard another's heart - "I don't know what to say, but I'm so glad you told me."  And suddenly Laura and I were quite caught up in the image of a God who sits across the table over coffee and says, I'm so glad you told me.

Whether we have poured out the darkest, bleakest, sinniest thoughts about those whom we thought we'd love, or gone on and on with our list of demands for our friends and beloveds and our own broken selves, or maybe waxed eloquent in overwhelmed gratitude for unexpected goodness, God nods slowly and says, I'm so glad you told me.

That's really the only answer to prayer that I can imagine is worth hearing.

Advent 10

I guess it was different before Jesus showed up. David hadn't seen the fishes and loaves being multiplied. He didn't hear about how the Kingdom of God was for anyone. He didn't know that God's mercy would go nuts like that.

I guess that's why the Psalms are full of David asking God to not let him be like "all those other people who are super bad".  That's not really a quote, by the way. But it's pretty much what he says, over and over and over again.

God, all those other people who aren't like me, who don't think like me, who want to hurt me and who just make me mad and afraid?? Do those people in God, and let me be okay and happy and rich and strong please.

I guess God got tired of it. Who knows why really. We just know that the whole chosen/not chosen thing kind of falls apart eventually and that something about Jesus showing up opens the whole of the Kingdom to the whole of humanity.

Even the people who aren't like me.

Psalm 26

Of David.

¹ Vindicate me, Lord,
    for I have led a blameless life;
I have trusted in the Lord
    and have not faltered.
² Test me, Lord, and try me,
    examine my heart and my mind;
³ for I have always been mindful of your unfailing love
    and have lived in reliance on your faithfulness.

⁴ I do not sit with the deceitful,
    nor do I associate with hypocrites.
⁵ I abhor the assembly of evildoers
    and refuse to sit with the wicked.
⁶ I wash my hands in innocence,
    and go about your altar, Lord,
⁷ proclaiming aloud your praise
    and telling of all your wonderful deeds.

⁸ Lord, I love the house where you live,
    the place where your glory dwells.
⁹ Do not take away my soul along with sinners,
    my life with those who are bloodthirsty,
¹⁰ in whose hands are wicked schemes,
    whose right hands are full of bribes.
¹¹ I lead a blameless life;
    deliver me and be merciful to me.

¹² My feet stand on level ground;
    in the great congregation I will praise the Lord.

Advent 9

We advented with our friends last night. We fed the kids first, and lit a candle with them and wondered a bit about peace. Then we sent the kids downstairs and wondered as grown-ups about peace - if Jesus showed up with peace this Advent, what would we want that to look like?

All the busy-ness is difficult to avoid - I think I trip across a half-dozen "How To Hate Christmas Less" articles a day, all of them counselling that we just say no to a few more things this year. But I think maybe they're missing the point. I mean, yes, we ought to avoid the Too Muchness of the season, and there's very little wrong with simplifying.

But the Jesus story isn't that Jesus showed up and suddenly the world got quieter. The dis-ease and conflict of his time didn't ease up. There weren't fewer weddings or synagogue meetings. The pace didn't relent. What changed was that Jesus was there. In midst of all the silly, there was the Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

This season brings demands that can be too expensive. But the chaos has its place in the story. In the middle of all that we can't afford, we are given the gift of Jesus. The one who brings the hope and the peace and the joy and the love - the currency needed to bear the cost of it all.

I'm sure it's wise and good to look for ways to limit the chaos. But I think this year, I'm going to put my energy into collecting the peace that is promised instead. The peace that is big enough for it all.

Advent Six

Today we read several Psalms, all written by David. It is good to read them in batches like this, to remember that David was a big batch of crazypants, while at the same time having to remember that it was apparently super important that the Saviour of the Whole World be one of his descendants. David who in Psalm 16 says "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places" but says in Psalm 22, "I am a worm and not a man, scorned by men and despised by people."

I have said before and will say again, David's Psalms are in the Cannon to remind us that if that guy can be the great hero of the Old Testament, then there is room for ALL of us in the Kingdom of God.

I think that must be what made Jesus so mad so often in all the new testament stories. The religious leaders were so intent on counting people out for all kinds of awful reasons: your body doesn't work right leper; your mind doesn't work right possessed man; you're bleeding ma'am; your alms aren't enough old lady. Had they forgotten David's story? Forgotten how he was too young? then too lusty? then too afraid? then too weepy? Had they forgotten that the great love of G-d's life had been a mess? Good grief. Jesus must have sworn so much...

Jesus comes to remind us that we don't get to choose who isn't "in" - we don't get to count anyone out, not even our own selves.

Psalm 16

A miktam^[a] of David.

¹ Keep me safe, my God,
    for in you I take refuge.

² I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
    apart from you I have no good thing.”
³ I say of the holy people who are in the land,
    “They are the noble ones in whom is all my delight.”
⁴ Those who run after other gods will suffer more and more.
    I will not pour out libations of blood to such gods
    or take up their names on my lips.

⁵ Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
    you make my lot secure.
⁶ The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    surely I have a delightful inheritance.
⁷ I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;
    even at night my heart instructs me.
⁸ I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
    With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

⁹ Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
    my body also will rest secure,
¹⁰ because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,
    nor will you let your faithful^[b] one see decay.
¹¹ You make known to me the path of life;
    you will fill me with joy in your presence,
    with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

Psalm 22^[a]

For the director of music. To the tune of “The Doe of the Morning.” A psalm of David.

¹ My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
    Why are you so far from saving me,
    so far from my cries of anguish?
² My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,
    by night, but I find no rest.^[b]

³ Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;
    you are the one Israel praises.^[c]
4 In you our ancestors put their trust;
    they trusted and you delivered them.
⁵ To you they cried out and were saved;
    in you they trusted and were not put to shame.

⁶ But I am a worm and not a man,
    scorned by everyone, despised by the people.
⁷ All who see me mock me;
    they hurl insults, shaking their heads.
⁸ “He trusts in the Lord,” they say,
    “let the Lord rescue him.
Let him deliver him,
    since he delights in him.”

⁹ Yet you brought me out of the womb;
    you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast.
¹⁰ From birth I was cast on you;
    from my mother’s womb you have been my God.

¹¹ Do not be far from me,
    for trouble is near
    and there is no one to help.

¹² Many bulls surround me;
    strong bulls of Bashan encircle me.
¹³ Roaring lions that tear their prey
    open their mouths wide against me.
¹⁴ I am poured out like water,
    and all my bones are out of joint.
My heart has turned to wax;
    it has melted within me.
¹⁵ My mouth^[d] is dried up like a potsherd,
    and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;
    you lay me in the dust of death.

¹⁶ Dogs surround me,
    a pack of villains encircles me;
    they pierce^[e] my hands and my feet.
¹⁷ All my bones are on display;
    people stare and gloat over me.
¹⁸ They divide my clothes among them
    and cast lots for my garment.

¹⁹ But you, Lord, do not be far from me.
    You are my strength; come quickly to help me.
²⁰ Deliver me from the sword,
    my precious life from the power of the dogs.
²¹ Rescue me from the mouth of the lions;
    save me from the horns of the wild oxen.

²² I will declare your name to my people;
    in the assembly I will praise you.
²³ You who fear the Lord, praise him!
    All you descendants of Jacob, honor him!
    Revere him, all you descendants of Israel!
²⁴ For he has not despised or scorned
    the suffering of the afflicted one;
he has not hidden his face from him
    but has listened to his cry for help.

²⁵ From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly;
    before those who fear you^[f] I will fulfill my vows.
²⁶ The poor will eat and be satisfied;
    those who seek the Lord will praise him—
    may your hearts live forever!

²⁷ All the ends of the earth
    will remember and turn to the Lord,
and all the families of the nations
    will bow down before him,
²⁸ for dominion belongs to the Lord
    and he rules over the nations.

²⁹ All the rich of the earth will feast and worship;
    all who go down to the dust will kneel before him—
    those who cannot keep themselves alive.
³⁰ Posterity will serve him;
    future generations will be told about the Lord.
³¹ They will proclaim his righteousness,
    declaring to a people yet unborn:
    He has done it!

Advent Four

I am finding this Advent more difficult, partly because it is so much easier this year. The last several years of angst-fuelled instrospection and reading and writing has borne good fruit - namely clarity and peace.

To be frank, much was simplified when my beloved's mother died - with her died much of the expectation and obligation that was a poison, and now what lingers is only her generous love of the season. I don't pull out all of her wall-hangings and Santa paintings and trimmings in pissy ill-will anymore, but with the deep pleasure of being able to share and remember the very best parts of their grandmother with her son and our two smalls. It is difficult to face how unwilling I was to accept her very best as her very best until it was too late. It is, and I'll accept the responsibility for it as part of what this season requires: remembering why we need a Saviour in the first place.

Also trickifying things this year is the direction my faith is moving - ever-increasingly away from church and the pillars of what has been my religious practice of the past. I guess almost a wholesale rejection of the religion part, with an equally-increasing peace with the pursuit of Jesus-y-ness being an adequate expression of faith. My community of faith doesn't meet weekly and tithe and sing and do Sunday School but does linger over coffees together sometimes. I do have a sweet homegroup that remains a source of at-home-ness in all seasons and I might despair if that disappeared. My beloved and I really love talking about who Jesus is too, and that is a sweetness. But I am not satisfied with this and still wrestle with the best way to grow in faith without building my own religion, while at the same time letting go of the religiosity that has shown itself to be empty and life-less.

Doing this while feeling the responsibility for giving children the gift of faith is fraught. I want for them fluency in faith so that they can grow up able to explore that land ably and with ease. I want them to know, deep in their hearts, that there is a Creator God who loves them and loves their neighbour and who asks that they in turn love God and love their neighbour and who's presence is a balm and source of peace through this life. I want them to know who Jesus is and agree that Jesus' words are the best reflection of who we believe God to be and the best guides for living a life full of Life and Light. But it seems wise to not take this on by myself - it seems like having a community to share all this work with would be smart. Surely there are other examples for doing this without a Sunday-morning-with-guitars-and-announcements meeting? Anybody?

And so this is an odd Advent. I don't wait for Jesus to make himself known in a new way, but instead I find myself out in the fields, wondering how to respond to the herald angels. I find myself following a star, unsure of what arriving at the destination will require.  There is no hesitation to receive the gift given, but there is equally no clarity about what is to be done with the gift.

In this way, I am not much different from the chief priests and elders in Matthew who keep asking questions of Jesus, hoping for an answer that will let things remain as they are. Tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of us, to be sure - all who are eager for everything to change will. But there are a number of us wanting Jesus' answer to be "Nope, you're finished changing. It's all good. Rest at home now." And for us, things are trickier.

Matthew 21:28-32

New International Version (NIV)

The Parable of the Two Sons

²⁸ “What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’
²⁹ “‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.
³⁰ “Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.
³¹ “Which of the two did what his father wanted?”
“The first,” they answered.
Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. ³² For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.

Advent Two

Who is this?

This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth.

Today's reading from the gospels is the story of Palm Sunday. Usually we're reading it a week before Easter, in anticipation of Life Winning. We read it knowing that the days ahead bring the last supper and Judas selling out and the rigged trial and the desperate bleak gloom of Friday and the long wait through Saturday and the unfathomable mystery of the resurrection on Sunday.

But today we read it just a few weeks before Christmas, in anticipation of Life Showing Up. We read it knowing not only what comes in the last week of this life, but also through the years before then. The small babe we wait for tonight will be a grown man who sends out his friends to steal a donkey and a colt for him, and who enters Jerusalem unarmed and a grave disappointment to many, but somehow still, our Only Hope.

It's an odd juxtaposition, this man who is, and the babe who wasn't quite yet.

Matthew 21:1-11

New International Version (NIV)

Jesus Comes to Jerusalem as King

21 As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, ² saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. ³ If anyone says anything to you, say that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.”

⁴ This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:

⁵ “Say to Daughter Zion,
    ‘See, your king comes to you,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
    and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’”^[a]

⁶ The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. ⁷ They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. ⁸ A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. ⁹ The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,

“Hosanna^[b] to the Son of David!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”^[c]

“Hosanna^[d] in the highest heaven!”

¹⁰ When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?”

¹¹ The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Advent One

I had three different reading lists today.  We have moved to the Advent 2 Readings on our "regular" list here. My Advent cards for the family have us reading John 1: 1 - 5. The readings provided for our kids' Advent with our friends were... unusual. You can go ahead and look up Romans 13: 11 - 14 on your own and decide if you, like me, would have edited a bit. I left it with the part about waiting for the light.

The regular readings were from the parts of the Bible that make me have to squint and wiggle to keep myself in the Christian box. I'm not sure I'm actually in that box in any real way anymore - I've been calling myself Jesusy for years now just because the word "Christian" means too many things I don't mean when I want to describe my faith. But today even Jesus is a bit of let-down in Luke, telling his disciples that the end is nigh - they just have to survive a few wars and earthquakes and then the end will come. As you may know, it hasn't quite worked out that way. I know we've kind of decided to agree that probably the writer misunderstood, or maybe we all misunderstood, but still, it's kind of hard to work with, you know?

Happily, I'm happy to just let it go.

So tonight I rest in those first verses of John.  They are some of my favourites, some of the reasons that despite the odd inconsistent, really-we're-supposed-to-believe-this bit, I feel so at home in the Jesus story: word, Word, light, life, darkness, not understanding.

Of course I love Jesus - Jesus was The Word. I LOVE WORDS! And that Word? that Word was with God and the Word was God. Through him (through... love this) all things were made; without him, nothing was made that has been made - Jesus was in on all of it. All of us were made with him and through him. Not a one of us is not known by him. And in him was life, and that life was the light. Jesus' life brings light, a light that shines in the darkness.  Anything we can see, anywhere we experience life, darkness is losing. And the darkness can't understand it. It makes no sense. So we hang out as close to the light as we can, doing our very best to live Life.

All this Life and Light and Word - this is what we spend the next weeks and days anticipating. Adventing.

Come Lord Jesus. Come Word. Come Light. Come Life.

John 1:1-5

New International Version (NIV)

The Word Became Flesh

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ² He was with God in the beginning. ³ Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. ⁴ In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not understood it.
 

Advent Advent III.v

Tomorrow is the first day of Actual Advent. This has been good practice, easing into the rhythm and discipline of it all. Good to get myself ready before trying to add my smalls into it. Telling the Jesus story to them is so tricky and my beloved and I have to work hard to tone down our grown-up jaded cynicism to allow for the loud, shouty embarassment that is a child's faith.  We haven't done as much as I'd have liked to grow them up in faith, so the least I can do is the Jesus story part. It's my favourite part in the end, so surely it's possible.

Today is short and sweet. Two blind men are sitting by the side of the road when they hear that Jesus is going by. They can't see him, but they just start shouting "JESUS! HAVE MERCY ON US!" They can't really know how close or far he is, but they just keep yelling, "JESUS! HAVE MERCY ON US!" The people around them tell them to shut up - it's kind of embarssing right? to have two people so desperate and yelling at the Lord when there should just be polite, quiet appreciation? Maybe some golf clapping? But these two blind yahoos just keep yelling.

Jesus hears them.

And stops.

And says, "Wait. What do you two want for me to do?"

And they answer, "We want our sight."

So Jesus has compassion on them and touches their eyes and gives them sight.

The end.

I don't fully get why people wanted them to stop yelling. I made it up, the polite clap part. And I don't get why Jesus stopped. And I don't even get why it made the Matthew story. There's no explanation or summation from Jesus about anything. It just happens.

But maybe I'll practice this over Advent: "JESUS! HAVE MERCY ON US!" And if Jesus stops to ask me what we want, probably I'll say, "We want our faith."

I'll let you know how it goes.

Matthew 20:29-34

New International Version (NIV)

Two Blind Men Receive Sight

²⁹ As Jesus and his disciples were leaving Jericho, a large crowd followed him. ³⁰ Two blind men were sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was going by, they shouted, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!”
³¹ The crowd rebuked them and told them to be quiet, but they shouted all the louder, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!”
³² Jesus stopped and called them. “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked.
³³ “Lord,” they answered, “we want our sight.”
³⁴ Jesus had compassion on them and touched their eyes. Immediately they received their sight and followed him.

Advent Advent III.iv

I love the Jesus Disciple stories in the New Testament. Lest anyone think they are not qualified for the Kingdom, they need only look at the morons Jesus chose to be his closest friends to see that the Kingdom of Heaven is made up of jackasses and idiots.

In this passage in Matthew, the two Zebedee boys ask their Mom to ask Jesus if they can be super important in Heaven. And their Mom does it! They've been hanging out with Jesus for a while now - we're almost at the end of the book - and probably Jesus not-unreasonably expects that they should be getting it by now. When he's asked, he turns to these two and says, "Can you drink the cup I'm going to drink?" and they're all like, "Yeah, we totally can." And Jesus is like, "Oh right. Yeah. You will. But the point is, shouldn't you know by now that the Kingdom of God doesn't reward and recognize the way it's done here on earth? And didn't I just say, like a story and a half ago that you're supposed to leave your parents behind?"

I made that last part up. But surely Jesus is irked that they got their mom to ask. I digress....

The ones who have heard it most often, lived beside it most closely, seen it lived out most intimately still misunderstand and still ask stupid questions. Or get their mom to (I can't get over this!). What hope do we have, thousands of years later, in a completely different culture, speaking an entirely differently language, to get this right? We rely on these guys' best memories of what was said. It's ludicrous.

And yet.

Thousands of years later, our world still goes bonkers trying to figure out how to celebrate Jesus showing up. Like the disciples, we're getting it horribly wrong. And like the disciples, we make up the Kingdom. Jesus chooses people like us, over and over and over again.

Imagine that.

Matthew 20:17-28

New International Version (NIV)

Jesus Predicts His Death a Third Time

¹⁷ Now Jesus was going up to Jerusalem. On the way, he took the Twelve aside and said to them, ¹⁸ “We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death ¹⁹ and will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!”

A Mother’s Request

²⁰ Then the mother of Zebedee’s sons came to Jesus with her sons and, kneeling down, asked a favor of him.
²¹ “What is it you want?” he asked.
She said, “Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom.”
²² “You don’t know what you are asking,” Jesus said to them. “Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?”
“We can,” they answered.
²³ Jesus said to them, “You will indeed drink from my cup, but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared by my Father.”
²⁴ When the ten heard about this, they were indignant with the two brothers. ²⁵ Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. ²⁶ Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, ²⁷ and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— ²⁸ just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Advent Advent III.iii

Where I ought to be. That's where I am tonight. The panic has eased, I can see. What was certain doom on Monday is now just life on Thursday. Hope won.

Again.

Tonight we read in Matthew a parable where I think Jesus is trying to say that God's generosity can feel shitty. And that the Kingdom of God is like that sometimes. Especially if you're the person who get hired first thing in the morning. If we're the one getting chosen first, looking most worthy for the work, being the most capable - if we're the successful ones at the beginning of the day, it's pretty likely we're going to feel screwed at the end of the day when all the losers gets paid just the same as us. 

Of course, sometimes we're the losers who have watched everyone else get picked. Even the other losers who we thought we were going to sit and comiserate with over drinks at the end of the day.  Gaw'dammit. Even *those* assholes got picked first and here we sit, unchosen and useless and unsure of how we'll buy breakfast tomorrow. But then at the 11th hour, we're picked. And we work. Or more like, "work". And then we're called by the boss and we're paid a day's wage and it is insane because we know we didn't earn it. But there it is - More Than Enough.

The Kingdom of God is like that.

Either way, when we don't remember that we're trying to make the earth more like the Kingdom of God and instead keep trying to make the Kingdom of God look more like earth, we end up so heartsick and sad and disappointed and broken. It just feels so shitty. But when we remember... then there is Life.

Matthew 20:1-16

New International Version (NIV)

The Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard

20 “For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard. ² He agreed to pay them a denarius^[a] for the day and sent them into his vineyard.

³ “About nine in the morning he went out and saw others standing in the marketplace doing nothing. ⁴ He told them, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ ⁵ So they went.
“He went out again about noon and about three in the afternoon and did the same thing. ⁶ About five in the afternoon he went out and found still others standing around. He asked them, ‘Why have you been standing here all day long doing nothing?’
⁷ “‘Because no one has hired us,’ they answered.
“He said to them, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard.’
⁸ “When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the workers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last ones hired and going on to the first.’
⁹ “The workers who were hired about five in the afternoon came and each received a denarius. ¹⁰ So when those came who were hired first, they expected to receive more. But each one of them also received a denarius. ¹¹ When they received it, they began to grumble against the landowner. ¹² ‘These who were hired last worked only one hour,’ they said, ‘and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the work and the heat of the day.’
¹³ “But he answered one of them, ‘I am not being unfair to you, friend. Didn’t you agree to work for a denarius? ¹⁴ Take your pay and go. I want to give the one who was hired last the same as I gave you. ¹⁵ Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you envious because I am generous?’
¹⁶ “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Advent Advent III.ii

I read this early this morning, in a daily-delivered email that I usually delete:

Our practice of contemplation is not the avoiding of “distractions,” as was foolishly taught, but instead we use them “to look over their shoulder” for God! This was the brilliant insight of the author of the fourteenth-century book, The Cloud of Unknowing (Chapter 32). The persistence of the distraction can actually have the effect of steadying your gaze, deepening your decision, increasing your freedom, your choice, and your desire for God and for grace—over this or that passing phenomenon. The same can be true with any persistent temptation.
The “shoulders” of the distraction almost become your necessary vantage point and they create the crosshairs of your seeing. Who would have thought? It is an ideal example of how God uses everything to bring us to God. (...)
It is not the avoidance of problems that makes you a contemplative, but a daily holding of the problem, straight on (while not letting it hold onto you)—and finding a resolution in the much deeper and more spacious “peace of Christ, which will guard your heart and your mind” (Philippians 4:7). I never knew it would take such hourly vigilance to guard my heart and my mind from anger, judgment, fear, jealousy, and negativity of any kind. Only the vast peace of Christ can do it.  

Adapted from Contemplation in Action, p. 18, Richard Rohr

As I went through today's readings (Obadiah? yesterday Nahum? I truly did not even know these were in our Bible and wondered if I had accidently tripped across a Catholic site... Sunday School fail), I found myself alternately thinking of other people for whom these particular words would be more useful and how I would arrange childcare and pay some of our bills. As the Psalmist waits and waits and waits for God to deliver him from life's Too Hard and the prophets promise justice and Peter exhorts the early church to hang in there together and Matthew tells the story of Jesus using camels and needles to illustrate how impossible it is to live in the Kingdom of Heaven but promising that it is the very impossibility of it all that is what is made possible by the Creator... as all that happens, I have to look over the shoulders of my own Too Hard and the enormous eye of the needle in front of me and let them deepen my desire for Grace, let them be the crosshairs of what I'm seeing. A God who does not abandon us to the Too Hard, a God not flummoxed by my holding on to too much.

This metaphor or image or whatever it is is helping me so much this morning.

What happens when you look over the shoulders of what's distracting you?

Matthew 19:23-26

New International Version (NIV)

²³ Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it is hard for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven. ²⁴ Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
²⁵ When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and asked, “Who then can be saved?”
²⁶ Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

Advent Advent III.i

Change is an event. Transition is the process.

I heard that in a staff training today, and it is lingering. I suppose it is mostly true that I am always sliding between transitions, pockmarked by the changes they are processing. That might just be life's story actually. And if we are eager for change to be for the good, then apparently we do things like communicate and include and give each other tools through the transition (on each side of the change) that equip us for the new tasks or ways or requirements the change has brought.

I think I was supposed to be using this information to manage some of the change in my work place. At the time, I was filtering it mostly through my own lens of family change we are living. It was helpful.

Tonight though, I am thoughtful about how Jesus showing up - in history, in our lives, each Christmas - is The Change, and that Advent is the process that preceeds the change, and then epiphany and the weeks that follow (or maybe the years that follow?) the process that follows the change. But the process, that process has to be full of communication and inclusion and other tools for us to experience The Change as Good.

Huh. I wonder.

Jesus showing up matters. It is a change. The Change. It has been for me, and it is irrefutable that it has been for the whole planet. Whether or not we have experienced that change as Good, well that just may depend on the process, on the transition.

For me, the change is Good. It is a relentless reminder that all things work for Good. Even the parts that are difficult and awful.

So praise be for being able to re-read Psalm 121 and remember that I am not left on my own through the process.  The Lord is watching my coming and my going.

Psalm 121

A song of ascents.

¹ I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
² My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

³ He will not let your foot slip—
    he who watches over you will not slumber;
⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵ The Lord watches over you—
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

⁷ The Lord will keep you from all harm—
    he will watch over your life;
⁸ the Lord will watch over your coming and going
    both now and forevermore.

Advent Advent III

I'm not sure exactly how long I've been thinking about Advent Advent but it has to be at least three years. Probably more. Maybe ten. But definitely more than two. Multiple years of feeling the press of The Coming and trying to decide if it's anticipation of Good or Awful. Winter after winter bringing the darkness and the looming and the foreboding excitement and all of it being a tiny bit more than I can manage.

And so I turn to the discipline that seems to be the surest way of letting the light sneak in: The Word(s).  The Word becomes flesh and so my flesh will seek the Word and use some words and see if peace trips along next to us eventually.

This year has brought some good wonderings about the person of Jesus and about what it must mean for me to be faith-full and somehow find a way to teach my children the language of faith all the while not finding a community of faith for them. It is fraught, but still leaves me full of fondness for this Jesus and full of hope that my two smalls will find their own hope in his story and life, their own fondness for God With Us.

Oh. So maybe this will be part of this year's journey: making space to teach my littles to be the little ones who come unto Him. Oh. This could be something for me. For us.

Again this year, I will be following the daily readings laid out here and once Advent starts, here.

This morning the Psalmist starts with a sweet spot for my heart to rest: Praise the Lord. Give thanks to the Lord, for God is good. God's love endures forever. The writer then goes on with stories of God's people getting forgetful about what God has done, and getting frustrated and impatient when God does not do what they think God ought to be doing. God's people are so dumb. We are such idiots. So forgetful and impatient. But God's is good and God's love endures forever and God shows mercy over and over even when we've sinned and despised the pleasant land God has provided (v. 24).

Children, our God is good and gives a love that endures forever.  Let me tell you our family's stories, so that we can remember together God's goodness to us and maybe be a bit less forgetful and impatient.

Psalm 106

¹ Praise the Lord.^[a]

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
    his love endures forever.

² Who can proclaim the mighty acts of the Lord
    or fully declare his praise?
³ Blessed are those who act justly,
    who always do what is right.

⁴ Remember me, Lord, when you show favor to your people,
    come to my aid when you save them,
⁵ that I may enjoy the prosperity of your chosen ones,
    that I may share in the joy of your nation
    and join your inheritance in giving praise.

⁶ We have sinned, even as our ancestors did;
    we have done wrong and acted wickedly.
⁷ When our ancestors were in Egypt,
    they gave no thought to your miracles;
they did not remember your many kindnesses,
    and they rebelled by the sea, the Red Sea.^[b]
8 Yet he saved them for his name’s sake,
    to make his mighty power known.
⁹ He rebuked the Red Sea, and it dried up;
    he led them through the depths as through a desert.
¹⁰ He saved them from the hand of the foe;
    from the hand of the enemy he redeemed them.
¹¹ The waters covered their adversaries;
    not one of them survived.
¹² Then they believed his promises
    and sang his praise.

¹³ But they soon forgot what he had done
    and did not wait for his plan to unfold.
¹⁴ In the desert they gave in to their craving;
    in the wilderness they put God to the test.
¹⁵ So he gave them what they asked for,
    but sent a wasting disease among them.

¹⁶ In the camp they grew envious of Moses
    and of Aaron, who was consecrated to the Lord.
¹⁷ The earth opened up and swallowed Dathan;
    it buried the company of Abiram.
¹⁸ Fire blazed among their followers;
    a flame consumed the wicked.
¹⁹ At Horeb they made a calf
    and worshiped an idol cast from metal.
²⁰ They exchanged their glorious God
    for an image of a bull, which eats grass.
²¹ They forgot the God who saved them,
    who had done great things in Egypt,
²² miracles in the land of Ham
    and awesome deeds by the Red Sea.
²³ So he said he would destroy them—
    had not Moses, his chosen one,
stood in the breach before him
    to keep his wrath from destroying them.

²⁴ Then they despised the pleasant land;
    they did not believe his promise.
²⁵ They grumbled in their tents
    and did not obey the Lord.
²⁶ So he swore to them with uplifted hand
    that he would make them fall in the wilderness,
²⁷ make their descendants fall among the nations
    and scatter them throughout the lands.

²⁸ They yoked themselves to the Baal of Peor
    and ate sacrifices offered to lifeless gods;
²⁹ they aroused the Lord’s anger by their wicked deeds,
    and a plague broke out among them.
³⁰ But Phinehas stood up and intervened,
    and the plague was checked.
³¹ This was credited to him as righteousness
    for endless generations to come.
³² By the waters of Meribah they angered the Lord,
    and trouble came to Moses because of them;
³³ for they rebelled against the Spirit of God,
    and rash words came from Moses’ lips.^[c]

³⁴ They did not destroy the peoples
    as the Lord had commanded them,
³⁵ but they mingled with the nations
    and adopted their customs.
³⁶ They worshiped their idols,
    which became a snare to them.
³⁷ They sacrificed their sons
    and their daughters to false gods.
³⁸ They shed innocent blood,
    the blood of their sons and daughters,
whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan,
    and the land was desecrated by their blood.
³⁹ They defiled themselves by what they did;
    by their deeds they prostituted themselves.

⁴⁰ Therefore the Lord was angry with his people
    and abhorred his inheritance.
⁴¹ He gave them into the hands of the nations,
    and their foes ruled over them.
⁴² Their enemies oppressed them
    and subjected them to their power.
⁴³ Many times he delivered them,
    but they were bent on rebellion
    and they wasted away in their sin.
⁴⁴ Yet he took note of their distress
    when he heard their cry;
⁴⁵ for their sake he remembered his covenant
    and out of his great love he relented.
⁴⁶ He caused all who held them captive
    to show them mercy.

⁴⁷ Save us, Lord our God,
    and gather us from the nations,
that we may give thanks to your holy name
    and glory in your praise.

⁴⁸ Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel,
    from everlasting to everlasting.

Let all the people say, “Amen!”

Praise the Lord.

 

So a Thief, A Dentist and My Period Walk Into a Bar...

Try funny first. It's on our list of things our family tries to do. I think more accomplished families build Family Mission Statements and then they get to capitalize the sentence and maybe have it turned into a mural in their living room. Perhaps even have hats or t-shirts made up that really seal the "we are a team" deal, and cement their identity together. Succeeding.

We just yell it at each other in the middle of the shitstorm.

The shitstorm this week includes a stolen blower and trimmer from our shed, worth just a tiny bit less than our house insurance deductible. It includes a dentist bill in the hundreds of dollars, most of which will not be paid by our insurance, for filling in cavities in both my children's teeth. It includes some low-grade PMS (ha!), an event only days away that threatens to fail, and several other small bits and bothery things that steal joy.

TRY FUNNY FIRST!

My energy of course, is limited. I can only spend it in one direction at a time, and right now it is a herculean task just to turn down the voice that is booming, "You're DOOMED! DOOOOOOOO-OOOOOMED!" Finding energy to also remember that money isn't the best measure, that boys aren't four and a half forever, and that cavities aren't a form of child abuse seems unlikely.

But maybe finding energy to giggle at the DOOMED voice? Maybe I could do that. I picture the voice belonging to one of the muppet ghosts of Marley and Marley in the Muppet Christmas Carol. And truly, when I imagine that, I smirk. I smirk at those two guys rattling around in my brain, trying to convince me that hope is foolish. They're muppets for G-d's sake!!

Off to laugh my way through the rest of the day. Or at least smirk. If it doesn't work, I'll be at the bar.

Imagine All The People

At some point, someone reminded us that church is a we, not a where. I can't say for sure, but that might have been the beginning of the unraveling of my relationship with the church I've been a part of for all of my Canadian adult life. Having a baby who napped at 10am did us no favours either, but the erosion of the idea that we go to church started right about then and is barely holding up these days.

The together expression of my faith has been in small groups for a long time. I have been connected to a lovely, life-affirming, God loving group of friends for a long time. Over the years we have wondered about God in all kinds of ways, in all kinds of directions, in several combinations of people. God With Us is lived with these friends.

Showing up with 300 other people to sing together, listen to one of us talk for half-an-hour and monthly do communion has mostly turned into a once-in-a-while Sunday morning spent with a judgey heart wondering what God thinks of me being so black and bleak. I am fairly certain that there is a lot of God's favourite loving God and loving your neighbour going on there, but I'm equally certain I am participating in very little of it. I am the Horrible Warning lurking in the midst of their Good Example.

Letting go of going to church is mostly possible. The less possible part is replacing for my kids what church does for kids. The list of good that church can do for smalls is long and worthy. But you know, there are a kajillion things that are good for kids that I'm not doing, and I think I'm admitting that going to church is going to be one of them.

Which leads us to the beginning of yet another new thing - figuring what it means to be church as a family that isn't going to go to church. Tonight we had one of what will be many conversations with friends who are also going to have to let go of going to church because of entirely different circumstances, but who too are having to imagine a different way of sharing faith with children.

As we talked about talking about this after we got home, my husband said outloud what I couldn't find a way to say at the table:  "However we include faith in our family, I want it to be sincere and I want it to be who we are, not just something we do." That's what he said! I know. Awesome, right? Well, awesome because it's what my heart has been trying to put words around for a while. It's not that it's unusual or unique - every family I know who is going to church would say this. But for our family, we haven't figured this out, and going to church isn't sincere or who we are. Sailing on a sunny Sunday is who we are. Celebrating Jesus over dinner with friends is who we are. Singing Jimmy Buffet songs as loud as we can, even when there are swear words, just because we are on a boat and we would ride our pony on our boat if we could - that's who we are.

So we're going to figure out how to pass on to our kids that all of who we are includes hearts that wonder about Who God Is.  We're going to hope to find a way to do that in groups of people so that they learn along with us what is means to be church without going to church. And we're going to hope to find a way to do that in our Just The Four Of Us too. And I'm going to keep writing and Lenting and praying and visiting Anglican churches and being with my people and being a grown-up who loves Jesus all on my own.

And then I'll go back to the part where I trust the God who knit my people together, knew their thoughts before one of them came to be. I'll trust that God to keep an eye on them and lead them in the life everlasting.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Mothers' Day

I made a fatal error, sometime around 10:30 this morning.

I was newly out of bed, newly done with breakfast and gifts and SJ's famous breakfast-in-bed latte. I wasn't even dressed. I surveyed the debris on my bed, the clothes tossed about the home by our entire family and obviously a few vagabonds passing through, the toys flung hither and yon, and I sighed.

The little voice inside my head dared to whisper, "All I want for Mother's Day is to clean my house."

You'll note I didn't even All I Want for the house to be cleaned. I was willing to clean it myself.

All I Wanting is probably the most direct path to Crushing Anger-Making Disappointment. All I Wanting is just begging the universe to fuck with you as far as I can tell. All I Wanting is a terrible habit to indulge.

What followed over the next several hours was predictable. I picked one thing up and a small moved three more to fill its void. Our guest room, the one matchy, tidy spot in our empire was wrinkled and toy strewn shortly after lunch. I wiped a table and juice promptly spilled.

I left and did the grocery shopping.

I called Karen and complained for half an hour.

I checked facebook compulsively, and stayed up to the second on Twitter.

I glared at my smalls and made myself be kind to my beloved who was feverishly finishing what can be finished in our basement before his mobility-wrecking surgery tomorrow. Even though he was making a mess. I reminded myself that he was the most likely to clean that shit up when he was done.

At 4:30 I confessed to my own self that I had created my own problem. I forgave myself for All I Wanting and thus wrecking a day that had started with sweet, generous kid love and the pleasure of being a mother. I cleared the kitchen counter. By 5:30, the kitchen, the living room and the dining room were restfully clean. Enough. The bathroom and the bedrooms were still eye-crossingly unpleasant, but I could live with it.

I fed my children a dinner they would eat, and if they didn't, that wouldn't make me mad to throw out. I saved the fancy dinner for when my beloved is finished downstairs. I bathed the smalls and tucked them in and threatened to lose my mind if they didn't fall asleep. I gave them kisses and reminded them that they made Mothers' Day awesome and they sighed and gave me kisses and rolled off to sleep. Or to feign sleep - I'm blissfully unaware.

And now it is almost fancy-dinner time and I will sit across from my sweet love and sip wine and be so thankful that Mothers' Day was salvaged and that at the end of it all, my heart is only deeply grateful that today is indeed a happy day, and not even my All I Wanting could wreck it in the end.