Advent thoughts – Saturday of Advent 3

Now why does Psalm 55 make me think of the Anglican Communion's current unpleasantness?

For had it been an adversary who taunted me,

then I could have borne it; *

or had it been an enemy who vaunted himself against me,

then I could have hidden from him.

But it was you, a man after my own heart, *

my companion, my own familiar friend.

We took sweet counsel together, *

and walked with the throng in the house of God.
(Psalm 55:13-15)

Psalm 55 is eloquent as it speaks of betrayal by a trusted friend, an intimate, the last person one would expect to turn on one.

I think of neighbors who have lived side by side for decades, perhaps families who lived next door for centuries: Serbs, Croats, Bosnians--Muslims, Catholic, Orthodox. Then, when it suited the political purposes of some, the divisions were raised in the public consciousness and the ancient ties were forgotten. The calculating dug among the embers for age-old sparks of resentment and fanned them into blazes that consumed the populace. Suddenly the grocer who lives next door, the cobbler down the street, the woman who helped nurse your aunt through a sickness--these are mortal enemies. No one can be trusted. The person you thought you knew became a stranger; the friend of many years is now an enemy.



Or the Tutsi and Hutus in Rwanda who gave little thought to their differences until fear and suspicion raised their heads and the atmosphere went from cooperation to distrust. Before long it all turned to raging slaughter. And then having to live with the aftermath, a waking nightmare.

My companion stretched forth his hand against his comrade; *
he has broken his covenant.
His speech is softer than butter, *
but war is in his heart.
His words are smoother than oil, *
but they are drawn swords.
Cast your burden upon the LORD,
and he will sustain you; *
he will never let the righteous stumble.
(Psalm 55:21-24)

What has happened to the person you once worshiped with, ate with, babysat for, discussed football with, conducted business with, prayed and sang hymns with? The ones with whom you shared the Body and Blood of Christ for decades?

Now you find yourselves divided over your understanding of the Bible, your evaluation of other people's relationships, the (not again? not still?) issue of women clergy.

A few years ago you were working together in your parish food bank. Now you cannot sit comfortably in the same pew. Perhaps not even the same church.

What was the betrayal? And by whom?

Are we the same people we were ten years ago? (On many levels, of course not. And yet....)

Then, of course, there is the issue of those who fan the flames for their own purposes, their own ideological crusades, their own accumulation of power and importance.

These are the things that you shall do:
Speak the truth to one another,
render in your gates judgments that are true
and make for peace,
do not devise evil in your hearts against one another,
and love no false oath;
for all these are things that I hate, says the Lord.
(Zechariah 8:16-17)

Have you noticed how often these pithy summations deal with how we treat one another and not whether we are Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, gay or straight, young or old, rich or poor, red or brown or black or yellow or white, rural or urban, isolated or crushed in throngs, unlettered or educated, swift or slow, weak or strong? The Torah, prophets, writings, gospels, epistles, and even the apocalypse all have things to say about abusing each other (don't do it) and treating each other justly (always). While many laws and teachings begin applying to some and not others, there is a clear development toward universality. Not matter who we are or with whom we deal, we are to behave justly, honestly, and graciously. In so doing we recognize the image of God in the other and in ourselves.

When we lose sight of the image of God, then we become capable of incredible cruelty and evil.

I know I have a list of people I demonize on a regular basis. Folks who read here know most of my list too.

How can I look for, espy, and attend to the image of God in them? Perhaps by praying to see it, and for them to find it and live out of it too.

While we're at it, we all have accountability issues. Speaking of which, holding someone accountable upholds their dignity but attributing agency to them.

Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” (Matthew 25:44-45)

--the BB

Advent thoughts – Friday of Advent 3

One of the more interesting and, I believe, theologically significant juxtapositions in the Apocalypse occurs in chapter five. It is, however, obscured by the Daily Office lectionary that splits the two images, placing the first one one day and the second on the following day. Because of this I am rejoining the two images by taking a snippet from yesterday and its sequel from today.

Then one of the elders said to me, ‘Do not weep. See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.’ Then I saw between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth. He went and took the scroll from the right hand of the one who was seated on the throne. (Apocalypse 5:5-7)

Notice how John the Seer is reassured that the Lion of Judah is worthy to open the sealed scroll. John looks for this Lion of Judah and what he sees is a Lamb appearing to have been slaughtered.

It is a stunning juxtaposition and reversal of expectation. One looks for a Lion and finds a Lamb. One looks for a conqueror and behold instead one slaughtered. What is this vision teaching John? What is John teaching us?

First there is the reassurance of continuity. We are talking about the Lion of Judah, the rightful ruler in Davidic symbolism. What is going on here is part of the salvation history of the people of Israel carried into the future. It is about the Anointed of God.

But it is not simply one more Davidic king, one more ruler of Israel, one more military victor. It is a conqueror but one who conquers through other means. The triumphal one is one who was led like a lamb to the slaugther. His victory is not won with horses and chariots, with myriads of warriors, with glittering weapons. It is won in his death. It is won on the Cross.

The power that triumphs is not the power of physical might, not political power, not the power of manipulation and subjugation. It is a different kind of power altogether. Recall yesterday's message from Zechariah: Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of hosts.

So it is a lamb, the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world, who is the victor, who is worthy to open the seven-sealed scroll and unfold the ending of the Great Story. It is the Lamb that ransomed saints for God from every tribe and language and people and nation to whom is now ascribed blessing and honor and glory and might as heavenly worship ascends.

Sometimes you need a fresh perspective to help you see what's there. When I read the psalm verse in the graphic immediately above I think of being in a pit, sort of like Jeremiah, with water seeping in, my feet in the damp soil sticking to me like clay. Mire is boggy ground, another yucky place to be stuck. But the Latin (see first graphic) has that rather obvious genitive form "fecis" and we all know the plural nominative version: feces. Puts it in a whole different light. God, you pulled me up out of the shit.

Now that's a visceral, descriptive faith: the kind psalmists are known for. And there are times "mud" just does not capture what we feel stuck in.

But God reaches out, reaches down, and pulls us out and sets us freee.

Now THAT'S Good News.

The word of the Lord came to Zechariah, saying: Thus says the Lord of hosts: Render true judgments, show kindness and mercy to one another; do not oppress the widow, the orphan, the alien, or the poor; and do not devise evil in your hearts against one another. (Zechariah 7:8-10)

No commentary necessary. Res ipsa loquitur.

Aboriginal Art:
Full Waterlily Harvest by Gaye Leon

Today's prayer comes in honor of St Thomas the Apostle, who found refuge in the wounds of Christ. Today, December 21, is his feast in the calendar of the The Episcopal Church. The prayer is the Anima Christi, ca. 14th century, sometimes attributed to St Ignatius but actually dating earlier.

ANIMA Christi, sanctifica me.
Corpus Christi, salva me.
Sanguis Christi, inebria me.
Aqua lateris Christi, lava me.
Passio Christi, conforta me.
O bone Iesu, exaudi me.
Intra tua vulnera absconde me.
Ne permittas me separari a te.
Ab hoste maligno defende me.
In hora mortis meae voca me.
Et iube me venire ad te,
Ut cum Sanctis tuis laudem te
in saecula saeculorum.
Amen.

Soul of Christ, sanctify me
Body of Christ, save me
Blood of Christ, inebriate me
Water from Christ's side, wash me
Passion of Christ, strengthen me
O good Jesus, hear me
Within Thy wounds hide me
Suffer me not to be separated from Thee
From the malicious enemy defend me
In the hour of my death call me
And bid me come unto Thee
That I may praise Thee with Thy saints
and with Thy angels
Forever and ever
Amen


--the BB

Advent thoughts – Thursday of Advent 3

We have creation themes in the Psalter and the Apocalypse today.

The living creatures give honor, glory, and thanks to the One upon the throne and then the elders fall down

casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea.

They glorify God for creation.

Isn't it nice that one needn't be a "creationist" or give credence to its wolf in sheep's clothing, "intelligent design," to rejoice in God as creator? We can acknowledge the vast expanses of stellar and geologic time, the intricate and dynamic dance between randomness and pattern in chaos theory, accept natural selection as the best description yet for the development and diversity of life, and still praise God as creator.

Some of us see God's "design" as including, if not demanding, the independence of creation to operate as it was meant to, entirely by natural laws. Yet within that lie all the mysteries of quantum physics and interrelatedness so complex we sense the cosmos as a living thing. By faith we experience this as all existing within God.

‘You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they existed and were created.’ (Apocalypse 4:11)

My personal vision, which I hasten to note is neither scientific nor the teaching of the Church, is that every subatomic particle every nanosecond is directly dependent upon the action of the Spirit. Should God's attention waver for a moment, all would collapse. This is poetry, not physics, nor theology in any literal sense. Since I have already postulated an independence for creation it is either gross contradiction or paradox, assuming that God is intimately engaged and unwaveringly committed to that independence. I leave it to better minds than mine to tease out how any of this might be; all I know is that it speaks from and to my heart.


In light of my pneumatological emphasis and our creational themes, I would like to invoke a different sort of "Advent" hymn, one that speaks of, yearns for, calls for the coming not of Jesus but the Spirit.

It is John Webster Grant's translation of the Veni Creator Spiritus of Rabanus Maurus (776-856).

O Holy Spirit, by whose breath
life rises vibrant out of death;
come to create, renew, inspire;
come, kindle in our hearts your fire.

You are the seeker's sure resource,
of burning love the living source,
protector in the midst of strife,
the giver and the Lord of life.

In you God's energy is shown;
to us your varied gifts make known.
Teach us to speak, teach us to hear;
yours is the tongue and yours the ear.

Flood our dull senses with your light;
in mutual love our hearts unite.
Your power the whole creation fills;
confirm our weak, uncertain wills.

From inner strife grant us release;
turn nations to the ways of peace.
To fuller life your people bring
that as one body we may sing:

Praise to the Father, Christ, his Word,
and to the Spirit: God the Lord,
to whom all honor, glory be
both now and for eternity.

Hymn # 501, 502 in The Hymnal 1982

The hymn seems apt for the season of the year and for this season in our collective life.

May our hearts attend the Spirit, yearn for the Spirit, open to the Spirit, wait upon the Spirit, yield to the Spirit, be filled with the Spirit, blaze with the Spirit.

As Zechariah reminded Zerubbabel:

He said to me, ‘This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of hosts.’ (Zechariah 4:6)

--the BB

Advent thoughts – Wednesday of Advent 3

Image of Christ by El Greco

Perspective is something we always need more of. It is so easy to become focused on one concern, one hope, one anxiety, that everything seems narrowly channeled into that one thing. Everything else fades in our consciousness and we become consumed with passions around our one tiny concern. We forget what role it plays in the larger picture and it expands to fill our universe.

Later on we may well look back and wonder how something so small, so passing could loom so large.

Unless we are particularly blessed in temperament or have acquired some spiritual discipline, we are not prone to step back and take a larger view. So often it is some other event, misfortune, rebuke, two-by-four upside the head that restores perspective.

One of the greatest reminders of what matters and what does not is death.

The Rev. Elizabeth Kaeton has posted a very thoughtful and beautiful reflection at Telling Secrets. Compassion, dignity, and a sense of what matters permeate her words. It is about death, pastoral care, the season, and simple rituals. I commend it to your attention.

Do not be envious when some become rich, *

or when the grandeur of their house increases;

For they will carry nothing away at their death, *

nor will their grandeur follow them. (Psalm 49:16-17)

Now then, what was I fretting about? The injustice of worldly success coming so blatantly to the wicked, the corrupt, the oppressor, the scoundrel, the incompetent, and the undeserving? And this, in the end, gets them what? Ah, the same end as is common to all mortals. Some with more trappings than others; all equally dead.

So, letting go of concern about others, what am I to do with my life?

“Blessed is that slave whom his master will find at work when he arrives.” (Matthew 24:46)

I might prefer glory: some grand mission that changes the course of the world, a life that makes an obvious (and well-recognized, thanks) difference in the world, or even a saintly martyrdom that makes me an example of fidelity for the ages. But this? Just doing my job? C’mon, Jesus, can’t you give me some more options to work with here?

No, it is the ordinary faithfulness; the everyday round of justice, mercy, and humility; the uncomplicated acts of faith, hope, and love—“to keep,” as Elizabeth writes, “the simple ceremonies of dignity and worth, especially to those who think themselves less than and unworthy….”

It is this simple faithfulness that leads to the master’s “Well done” and the final glorious vision. At the graveside, at the bedside, at the table, at the Altar we can glimpse what matters, be reminded to do what matters, and be formed in holiness.

After this I looked, and there in heaven a door stood open! And the first voice, which I had heard speaking to me like a trumpet, said, ‘Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this.’ At once I was in the spirit,* and there in heaven stood a throne, with one seated on the throne! And the one seated there looks like jasper and cornelian, and around the throne is a rainbow that looks like an emerald. Around the throne are twenty-four thrones, and seated on the thrones are twenty-four elders, dressed in white robes, with golden crowns on their heads. Coming from the throne are flashes of lightning, and rumblings and peals of thunder, and in front of the throne burn seven flaming torches, which are the seven spirits of God; and in front of the throne there is something like a sea of glass, like crystal.

Around the throne, and on each side of the throne, are four living creatures, full of eyes in front and behind: the first living creature like a lion, the second living creature like an ox, the third living creature with a face like a human face, and the fourth living creature like a flying eagle. And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and inside. Day and night without ceasing they sing,
‘Holy, holy, holy,
the Lord God the Almighty,
who was and is and is to come.’ (Apocalypse 4:1-8)

Lamb of God, the heavens adore you;

let saints and angels sing before you,

as harps and cymbals swell the sound.

Twelve great pearls, the city's portals:

through them we stream to join the immortals

as we with joy your throne surround.

No eye has known the sight,

no ear heard such delight:

Alleluia!

Therefore we sing

to greet our king;

forever let our praises ring.

--Philipp Nicolai (1556-1608); tr. Carl P. Daw, Jr. (b. 1944)

Verse 3 of Hymn # 61 in The Hymnal 1982

Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme

—the BB

Advent thoughts – Tuesday of Advent 3

Sorry we’re running late today. Holiday dinner with family last night.

‘I know your works; you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth. For you say, “I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.” You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. Therefore I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich; and white robes to clothe you and to keep the shame of your nakedness from being seen; and salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see. (Apocalypse 3:15-18)

When I took a course on the Apocalypse in seminary we joked, at this point, about churches that make God want to puke. ["I will spew thee out" seems stronger than just spit.] We had just emerged from the 1960s. My adolescence was shaped by the words of Dr. King. And then we lost him. I cried every time I heard the song “Abraham, Martin, and John.” We were flower children (even Baptists) protesting the war in Vietnam. The stability our parents had so yearned for after the turmoil of WWII seemed bland, conformist, feckless, and sterile to us. So we mocked the lukewarm. We wanted passion.

Now, thirty-five years after my graduation from seminary, we seem to have some passion and I find myself sometimes wishing we could all take a chill pill. (Stop laughing. Just because I carry on and rant or wax effusive doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a cup of chamomile tea.)

Then I think of Congress and all the “centrists” who just want to keep their corporate donations flowing so they can afford to stay in office and I’m back up on my soap box. “I wish that you were either cold or hot.”

Lion of Judah by Br. Robert Lentz, OFM

On a more serious note, how often do we deem ourselves rich, blessed, A-OK, only to have God intrude into our bubble of self-congratulation? “You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.” Ouch.

In what categories did I consider myself so rich? Are they categories that God values? I have a home and clothing and food. Central hearing and air conditioning. A car that runs. Reasonable health. All in all, an incredible mountain of creature comforts. Things. Lots of things. But God reminds me I am wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.

Where is the true wealth? Do I abound in faith, hope, love, the sundry fruits of the Spirit, various virtues, compassion, generosity, truth, wisdom, and humility? Am I not pitiably in need of the true riches, healing, and clothing that God offers rather than the illusions in which I wrap myself?

With God it is not about the trappings.

Your throne, O God, endures for ever and ever, a scepter of righteousness is the scepter of your kingdom; you love righteousness and hate iniquity. (Psalm 45:7)

Note that the scepter is not a mere trapping of power or object of artistic craft and beauty. It is a scepter of equity (מישר, evenness, uprightness; from the root ישר, straight, right, pleasing to God, straightforward, just, upright). God rules not from abstracted might but from a position of justice. I rather enjoyed encountering “evenness” and “uprightness” juxtaposed in my Hebrew dictionary. This puts me in mind of several things. First there is something like “an even playing field,” one standard and equal opportunity for all. That, in itself, is a powerful vision we still need to work toward, no matter how much progress has already been made. Uprightness leads me to visualize a plumb line (what a simple, elegant, and useful device from ancient times). Leaning structures just don’t inspire confidence.

When one combines this horizontal evenness and vertical uprightness one gets the figure of a cross.

And I don’t need to elaborate further.

Returning to a theme from earlier when I spoke of Christ both surrounding and among the churches, here is another instance echoing “that we may evermore dwell in him and he in us.”

‘For I will be a wall of fire all round [Jerusalem], says the Lord, and I will be the glory within it.’ (Zechariah 2:5)

What great imagery!


One last comment regarding those who obsess over the Second Coming.

‘But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.’ (Matthew 24:36)

To me this implies that the timing is none of our business. As we are repeatedly admonished, out task is to be about the work God has given to us to do and stay awake.

Lord, give us grace to awake us,
to see the branch that begins to bloom;
in great humility is hid
all heaven in a little room.

--Carol Christopher Drake (verse 3 of Hymn # 69, The Hymnal 1982)

--the BB

Advent thoughts – Monday of Advent 3

There is so much to ponder in the Daily Office readings that I barely have time to glance through them and pick out what catches my attention. Even then, I try to focus. Y'all know how I CAN carry on. There is so much that can be said and so little I have to offer each day. That said, here are three items for today.

“Then if anyone says to you, “Look! Here is the Messiah!”* or “There he is!”—do not believe it. For false messiahs* and false prophets will appear and produce great signs and omens, to lead astray, if possible, even the elect. Take note, I have told you beforehand. So, if they say to you, “Look! He is in the wilderness”, do not go out. If they say, “Look! He is in the inner rooms”, do not believe it. For as the lightning comes from the east and flashes as far as the west, so will be the coming of the Son of Man.” (Matthew 24:23-27)

When one looks at a passage that straightforward, one wonders how Sun Myung Moon, founder of the Unification Church, can declare that he is "humanity's Savior, Messiah, Returning Lord and True Parent" (see footnote 1 at Wikipedia) and yet church folk will attend conferences of his Universal Peace Federation and he has even convinced some pastors and congregations to take down their crosses. It makes me wonder if they have ever read Matthew 24.

[If you are a new visitor here--and we have had many in the last day--you may well have similar questions about me. I can assure you there is not a verse of the Bible I have not read several times, I have no desire to found new churches, I know myself to be a frail and sinful human (and God's beloved child at the same time), and there is nobody I choose to call Lord besides the Holy Trinity. Just so you know. That won't convince anyone I am Orthodox, nor should it, but does set some clear boundaries about false messiahs. All I publish here are my own thoughts on a wide variety of topics. It's a place I alternately spout and play.]

Only one more thing to say on the passage above: if it's the Second Coming, we won't have to wonder whether it is. We'll know.

Switching to the Apocalypse, we encounter a theme in the letter to the Christians in Philadelphia (the original one in Asia Minor, not the one in Pennsylvania) that recurs toward the end of the book.

‘And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write:


These are the words of the holy one, the true one,


who has the key of David,


who opens and no one will shut,


who shuts and no one opens:

‘I know your works. Look, I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut. I know that you have but little power, and yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name. (Apocalypse 3:7-8)



And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. Its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there. (Apocalypse 21:23-25)

It is the theme of the open door. Jesus is the one with the key. Jesus decides what is shut and what is open. We are treated to the image of a door that is never shut. Elsewhere he speaks of a closed door, but here of an open one.

In a world where we find defenses necessary for survival, where we keep our doors bolted and windows shuttered for protections, where we maintain our masks when interacting, keep persons and forces at bay, and generally avoid vulnerability, how very powerful it is to come toward the end of the Apocalypse (and the Bible) and find an image of unflinching openness!

God does not avoid blatant hints. Behold, I set before you this day life and death; therefore choose life! Hello! There is a door in front of you; it's open. [Hint, hint: try entering.] God offers an invitation and I hear echoing in my mind the chorus we sang in summer camp and Sunday school: "Jesus said that whosoever will (repeat two more times), whosoever will may come."

The New Jerusalem does not shut the gates and bar the doors at night. In fact, there is no night there. The radiance of Uncreated Light permeates everywhere. The final vision is not one of fear and defensiveness; it is one of openness and light. The kings who wailed over the fate of the wordly city, the city of earthly dominion and oppression and wickedness, the whore of Babylon--yes, those kings are now bringing their treasures into the heavenly city, the city of God, the bride of Christ, the new Jerusalem. I have often said that I don't know how God gets from chapter 18 to chapter 21, because there is one heckuva turnaround and transformation, but God can do what mortals cannot. So I trust God for the miracle and for the details. All I need to know is the hope found in the imagery that even Babyolon's buddies wind up entering those never-closed gates. Amazing. Unexpected. Pure grace. God at work.

Finally, there is this incredibly striking expression in the psalms of the day.

I said, "LORD, be merciful to me; heal me, for I have sinned against you." (Psalm 41:4)

Now, one would expect the logic to run like this:

I said, "LORD, be merciful to me; heal me, for I have kept myself without reproach." That is the reasonable appeal, the one that makes sense, the one we would normally anticipate. After all, that is how we try to bargain with God all the time. I know: futile and pointless and based on false premises, but we do it nonetheless.

The psalmist, however, understands fully the folly, blindness, and arrogance that would make that kind of appeal to God. Instead, with devastating self-awareness, honesty, and an audacity that knowns something of God's heart, the psalmist says, "Heal me, for I have sinned against you."

What other plea can we make? We need healing precisely because we cannot know true life without God's grace and our attempts fail repeatedly. It is because we overstep, miss the mark, walk about in illusion, and are just plain willful that we need healing and so the psalmist teaches us, with gobsmacking honesty, how to ask. Here it is, God. Help.

As Peter said to Jesus, "Where else will we go?" And under what other circumstances could we possibly ask?

It is all mercy. It is all the goodness of God.

--the BB
UPDATE: Maddie gives us this news from the Daily Nation (Kenya):

He is branded a blasphemer and a worshipper of evil, and has even been ostracised by his community. And his controversial sect, in which he claims to be “God the Father of Jesus”, has not won him many followers. Instead, it stirs feelings of anger and hatred wherever he goes.

At one point, Mr Jehovah Wanyonyi’s house was set ablaze at night as he and his family slept. This and other incidents have forced the spiritual leader of the Lost Israelites of Kenya sect of Kitale to shift several times over the past few years looking for a safer haven.

But despite all this seeming setback, Mr Wanyonyi soldiers on, saying that his message is the biblical truth, and that he is being sought for persecution just as Jesus was. But he is not just another mortal capable of sinning and dying, he says. And, because many people do not recognise him as the creator, he promises to punish the human race.

His commentary on Matthew 24 should be enlightening.

Advent thoughts – Saturday of Advent 2

The Gospel will be proclaimed.

When the Holy is manifest, when humans encounter that mysterium tremendum et fascinans, to use Otto’s phrase, we are overwhelmed, attracted yet terrified. This is why the opening words of God, or of angels, are “Fear not.” Jesus speaks the same phrase to his disciples when God breaks through in him and they do not know what to think.

We are always in the presence of God and God is always present to us, yet we are mostly unaware or inattentive. When God breaks through the barriers of our inattention, strips away our illusions and defenses, then we realize that we are in danger, for “our God is a living fire.”

Danger of what? Danger of being changed—of being shaken out of our stupor and awakened to reality, being robbed of our habits and thrust into conscious choice, being turned around and set on a new and unknown path, being taken from the familiar and forced to live into the unfamiliar, into God’s newness. We are in danger of being forced out of the womb we know and in which we feel safe and out into a world we cannot even imagine.

All the old comforts? Gone.

No wonder we fear.

Yet God speaks comfort and encouragement.

My spirit abides among you; do not fear. (Haggai 2:5b)

The Anglican blogosphere has been abuzz with developments in San Joaquin, among the sundry breakaway groups, and now the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Christmas Letter to the Communion and his Advent Letter to the Primates. So many thundering pronouncements, nuanced subtleties, contrary interpretations; so much anxiety, hope, distrust, encouragement, confusion, anger, frustration, despair. And then I read the Gospel lesson for today and these words:

“Then many will fall away, and they will betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because of the increase of lawlessness, the love of many will grow cold. But anyone who endures to the end will be saved. And this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations; and then the end will come.” (Matthew 24:10-14)

In the first two sentences of this excerpt Jesus is anything but encouraging but then he holds out the promise of salvation to those who endure.

And “endure” is one of the themes of the Apocalypse that we are also reading in the Daily Office this Advent. We are called to hang in there. Not to walk away. Not to throw in the towel. Not to despair. To remain engaged. Sometimes all we can do is stand by, to witness and not to run or walk away, and sometimes that is enough. Sometimes we must share in the toil, hold one another up, tell our story, sing praise, do justice—and always we must pray. Sometimes all we can do is wait and that is the important and right thing to do. Sometimes we must be impatient and act, and that is the important and right thing to do. Always we must listen for the Spirit and remember the promise that God’s Spirit is with us.

I find great hope in this: Jesus says, amid all the dire statements about how life in this world is and will be, “this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations.” The Gospel will be proclaimed.

This is where I put my faith. This is why I am willing to hang loose with denominational identity, no matter how much I love the Anglican way of being Christian (and I do, deeply and with gratitude). This is where I have my hope and confidence and where I place my commitment. The Gospel will be proclaimed.

We may be—oh hell, we are in dark days. But the light will dawn.

You have turned my wailing into dancing; you have put off my sack-cloth and clothed me with joy. (Psalm 30:12)

—the BB

Advent Thoughts – Friday of Advent 2

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Matthew 23:37)

The imagery is historically apt, a fitting cry for Christ to have uttered over the holy city of his people. He has enumerated its habits of rejecting all who come to it from God but instead of raining down curses he laments.

It applies as well to us—the unaware, the inattentive, the defensive, the close-hearted, the hostile—in our responses to God’s approach. How often does God come to us each day and we turn away from the divine presence? How often do God’s messengers come with saving words of judgment and healing only to be met with all the reasons we are right and they are wrong, we are just and they are ignorant, we are holy and they are fools? Do we do worse than spurn them? Do we lash out, attack, turn angry and violent?

And what of God’s little ones: the poor, the downtrodden, the forgotten, the beggars, the street crazies, the homeless vets, the lost children, the neglected or abused, those wandering in confusion or trapped in addictions, the broken and hopeless, the cast off? How often has Christ come to us in them and we have studiously ignored them, been blind to their plight and deaf to their cries, blamed them for their misfortunes?

Advent—the coming, the approach, the presence of God in our midst. We pray for it, we long for it, we yearn for it, we wait for it and then, when it comes, we ignore it or reject it.

Meanwhile, we who have turned our back on God, who have attacked God’s messengers, who ignore God’s little ones or, worse, beat them down further—we are wept over by Christ himself. We, the hardened and scornful, the unjust and unmerciful, are the object of God’s love, the subject of God’s tears, the cherished of God’s heart. And the heart of God breaks for us.

We think we are the city on the hill, a beacon for all, when in fact we are a city forsaken, a city from which life and love have fled, a heartless city. The angels, messengers and prophets, sages and teachers all rise up to name our crimes. The scorned and oppressed, neglected and abused rise up to accuse us. And Christ to whom all judgment is committed… laments.

Photo of hen and chicks courtesy of the BBC

Where we look for judgment, mercy. Where we have no right to expect anything but divine justice we find only a broken heart, a heart broken with love.

When friends forsake us and flee—and why shouldn’t they if this is how we behave?—and enemies surround us on every side, then the psalmist’s words come clear:

Blessed be the LORD! for he has shown me the wonders of his love in a besieged city. (Psalm 31:21)

Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

--the BB

Advent thoughts – Thursday of Advent 2

It is vital that we know ourselves to be beloved. Without that basic affirmation we cannot fully grow and develop as whole and healthy persons. Because each human being is unique we are each entitled to a sense of being special.

It is also important to realize that just because we are beloved does not mean that others are not also beloved. Just because we are special does not mean that others are not also special.

For someone else to be unique, precious, and beloved is not to lessen my status in those categories. There is enough, especially of divine love, to go around.

Amos proclaims this with ferocity to God’s chosen people of Israel:

Are you not like the Ethiopians to me, O people of Israel? says the Lord.
 Did I not bring Israel up from the land of Egypt, and the Philistines from Caphtor and the Arameans from Kir? (Amos 9:7)

What a shock to hear that God has acted redemptively toward others!

How sobering.

What a readjustment of worldview.

God rescues and leads people outside of the covenant we know.

God saves in ways beyond the ones we know.

God loves them too.

Just when we were so very busy making sure only our kind, the right kind, the God-approved kind could get in the doors, too. Damn! (Don’t you hate when God messes with our schemes?)

“But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you lock people out of the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 23:13a)

You would think Jesus would be even more careful than we about membership requirements.

Evidently he is not.

Our anxiety rises when things are not done as we expect or intend. Out of our anxiety we become defensive. In our defensiveness we often become angry.

Refrain from anger, leave rage alone;
do not fret yourself; it leads only to evil. (Psalm 37:9)

What about those evildoers, the wicked who do not live as God wants them to?

Do not fret yourself because of evildoers;
do not be jealous of those who do wrong. (Psalm 37:1)

But, Lord, what about those queers taking over the Church? Those schismatics rending Christ’s body? Those [fill in the blank according to your own definition of evildoer]?

Do not fret yourself over the one who prospers,
the one who succeeds in evil schemes. (Psalm 37:8)

But, but… [sputter]

Take delight in the LORD,
and he shall give you your heart's desire.

Be still before the LORD
and wait patiently for him. (Psalm 37:4, 7)

And thus we find ourselves in Advent: the still time, the waiting time.
--the BB

Advent thoughts – Wednesday of Advent 2

Don’t you just love repackaging? That moment when you are pushing your cart down the supermarket aisle and reach for a familiar product, then notice that the packaging is different. The brand group in some marketing department has tweaked the design. It’s still familiar but the graphics are not quite the ones you remember, the color palette is still the same (don’t want to waste recognizability, after all) but you know it’s different and the package even says: “New package, same great taste!”

So, why change the package? Good question. You have a sneaking suspicion that the dimensions are not what you remember. The box feels the tiniest bit thicker, but is it shorter?

If you have the time and inclination to compare the old and new packages, you may find that what has happened is that where you bought 13.2 ounces last week, you bought 12.9 ounces this week. For the same price as before. Not enough to bother about on your end, but a nice shift in margin for the manufacturer. Or perhaps amid the very noticeable label change you did not notice that the can is thinner, still functional but flimsier than before. Less expensive aluminum, more profits.

It is a small modern example of manipulating the perception of the customer in order to maximize prophet: a very ancient practice.

‘We will make the ephah small and the shekel great,
and practice deceit with false balances, buying the poor for silver
and the needy for a pair of sandals,
and selling the sweepings of the wheat.’ (Amos 8:5b-6)

Actually, what Amos denounced was more than manipulated perception, it was outright cheating with falsified weights and measures in order to cheat people. And most of the customers were agrarian peasants living on the edge. We will sell a scant measure, we will put our thumb on the scale, we will market inferior product, we will insist on full price. It all accumulates until the poor customer is driven into debt and bankruptcy. And then you really have them at your mercy.

Sound like the American banking system, mortgage brokers, credit card companies? I thought it might.

And God don’t like it one bit.

Turning to the Apocalypse we have the letter to the first of seven churches. Note that at the end of each letter it says “hear what the Spirit is saying to the churches.” Each letter, though full of details related to specific churches in John’s time, is addressed to all the churches. They still speak to us.

‘I know your works, your toil and your patient endurance. I know that you cannot tolerate evildoers; you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them to be false. I also know that you are enduring patiently and bearing up for the sake of my name, and that you have not grown weary. But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.’ (Apocalypse 2:2-4)

Because the text does not then explain what “the love you had at first” means we are left to speculate whether it is our love of Christ or our love of one another. The First Letter of John makes it clear that we really cannot separate the two. So, whether either or both, we have fallen away from love.

How easily we fall from charity. How long does it take you from receiving the Body and Blood of Christ until you make the first gossipy or unkind remark, curse or flip someone off in traffic, or wish evil on someone? Is it measured in days? Hours? Minutes? You don’t need to tell me and I’d rather not tell you, but you can guess because y’all know I’m snarky and am given to less than gentle rants.

The Anglican Communion wrestles with our inability to remain in charity because lines are drawn and folks are refusing to come to table with each other. What is or is not “core doctrine” is in dispute. Differing views on the Bible and its interpretation and application have become chasms not to be bridged instead of differences of perspective.

Jesus seems very insistent and persistent on the issue of love. He’s funny that way.

They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. (Matthew 23:5)

And don’t get me started on the puffed up and proud, especially if they happen to be clergy. A friend recently commented to me that ALL priests are vestment queens, no distinctions being made for gender or orientation. Well, yes, we are human and vain and we love putting on pretty things, even the butchest males among us. It may not be vestments, however, but the tendency to make certain that those present know who is a cardinal rector, whose numbers and pledges have grown, who got published in some Anglican quarterly that none of the rest of us reads, who has the most degrees, and who has the bishop’s ear. We are talking phylacteries a yard wide and fringes that trail behind us for half a league.

Jesus says it’s all crap.

O God, help us all to see what is truly real and what is illusion, to know what truly matters and what is indifferent, and always to show compassion and affection for one another, lest we lose our love, forsake justice, and turn our backs on you. Amen.

I will confess my iniquity and be sorry for my sin.
O LORD, do not forsake me; be not far from me, O my God.
Make haste to help me, O Lord of my salvation. (Psalm 38:18, 21-22)

--the BB

Advent thoughts - Tuesday of Advent 2

"Holy Wisdom" icon by Br. Robert Lentz, OFM (modified)

Then I turned to see whose voice it was that spoke to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands I saw one like the Son of Man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash across his chest. His head and his hair were white as white wool, white as snow; his eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined as in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of many waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and from his mouth came a sharp, two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining with full force. (Apocalypse 1:12-16)

When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he placed his right hand on me, saying, ‘Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, and the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive for ever and ever; and I have the keys of Death and of Hades. 19Now write what you have seen, what is, and what is to take place after this. As for the mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand, and the seven golden lampstands: the seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches. (Apocalypse 1:17-20)

Well, we're off and running into the visionary world of John on Patmos. Our imagination joins him as he speaks in the imagery of the Ancient of Days from the Book of Daniel. One of the details that has long fascinated me is the explanation of the lampstands and the stars.

The stars are the angels of the seven churches (symbolic of all the churches; seven = fullness).

The seven lampstands are the seven churches.


The "angels" might be considered as guardian angels of each church but I prefer to think of them as representations of the character (personality or "genius") of each church. In other words, as a different representation of the churches.

Viewed that way, this heavenly figure that we understand to be Christ is both within the midst of the churches and he holds the churches in his hand.

"...that we may evermore dwell in him and he in us."

The spatial paradox I have just mentioned is by no means the only way of looking at this passage, but I believe it is one legitimate way of understanding it, an approach that takes us into the mystery of mutual indwelling, characteristic of the Holy Trinity but also something into which we, by grace, are taken.


It is an overwhelming concept if we pause long enough to let it sink in.

And is not the season of Advent a time of waiting, listening, attending that allows things to sink in?

Who would not fall down as though dead, overcome at such a marvel of grace?

And then the Son of Man, so exalted in majesty, reaches out and touches John--and us. The incomprehensible condescension, the tender intimacy, the compassionate heart of God revealed in a touch! The Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the Living One, the risen Christ speaks tenderly and reassuringly.

Test me, O LORD, and try me; examine my heart and my mind. (Psalm 26:2)

Conditor alme siderum
aetérna lux credéntium
Christe redémptor
ómnium exáudi preces súpplicum

Qui cóndolens intéritu
mortis perire saeculum
salvásti mundum languidum
donnas reis remedium.

Creator of the stars of night,
Thy people's everlasting light,
Jesu, Redeemer, save us all,
and hear Thy servants when they call.

Thou, grieving that the ancient curse
should doom to death a universe,
hast found the medicine, full of grace,
to save and heal a ruined race.

Hymn # 60 in The Hymnal 1982

--the BB

Advent thoughts – Saturday of Advent 1

Alleluia of Advent 1 superimposed on a black Christ in glory

If you have ever sat by the shore and listened to the ocean or stood near a great waterfall or rushing river, you know the powerful sound of water. A great rush of it drowns out almost everything else.

It seems there are times God would like something to drown out our pieties.

Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream. (Amos 5:23-24)

When the exterior and interior are aligned, when our walk matches out talk, when our yearning for God corresponds with letting God’s love and justice flow through us, unimpeded, then our hymns become acceptable. Otherwise, we sing them for ourselves, not God.

Do I live up to this? Are you kidding? I’m a bumbling, neurotic schlump who knows better than he does, desires better than he achieves, and is nobody’s idea of a role model. To the extent that I can be a channel of God’s love and justice, God be praised. That being said, I am in no position to cast stones or wag my finger. (Doesn’t stop me; I know.)

But you, beloved, must remember the predictions of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ; for they said to you, ‘In the last time there will be scoffers, indulging their own ungodly lusts.’ It is these worldly people, devoid of the Spirit, who are causing divisions. But you, beloved, build yourselves up on your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God; look forward to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. (Jude 17-21)

[If you have been following the readings for the Daily Office you know I skipped right over Jude’s version of Sodom and Gomorrah yesterday. It is the only reference in the Bible that does NOT treat the sin of Sodom as inhospitality but I didn’t feel like going into an entire discourse on that theme and the role of Jude in the development of theological symbology.]

The world has never had a shortage of scoffers, nor of those indulging in ungodly lusts. Few of us, if we are honest, will slip through that double net. Nor has there ever been a shortage of those who cause divisions.

Hello! Anglicans of the world, anybody paying attention?

We get in trouble when we start that finger-pointing business, deciding just WHO is causing the divisions. Those other chaps, always, of course, never us.

Now it’s no secret where I come down and I must point out (oops, pointing again) that I have not excommunicated my sisters and brothers in Nigeria, Kenya, and Uganda, though their ecclesiastical officials have excommunicated me. Not that it makes much practical difference; I had not planned a visit through central Africa anytime soon. It seems to have made them feel better, though. Safer from cooties and all that.

What to do when divisions are rampant?

Build yourselves up on your most holy faith;
pray in the Holy Spirit;
keep yourselves in the love of God;
look forward to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Oh. I rather wanted to go on a glorious campaign to improve the Church and here am being told to build myself up (not others), to pray in the Holy Spirit (and not to or at others), to keep myself in the love of God (instead of sorting out who else is or is not in the love of God), and to look forward to Christ’s mercy. Not nearly so exalted (or self-aggrandizing). Damn.

Caesar gets the coin stamped with his image. God gets me, stamped with God’s image. And, in Christ, I get all things. Maybe God has it worked out better than I could do.

Turn again to your rest, O my soul;
for the Lord has treated you well. (Psalm 116:6)

--the BB

Advent Thoughts – Friday of Advent 1

Ah, you that turn justice to wormwood, and bring righteousness to the ground! (Amos 5:7)

In our current legal arrangements, corporations are treated as persons. Randi Rhodes gave a speech in Michigan a while back in which she said that if corporations were persons they would get colonoscopies. She was pointing out a certain absurdity about the way the law grants incredible rights, privileges, and benefits to corporations, often losing sight of real persons, human beings whose rights and welfare often are overridden for the sake of corporations.

“Tort reform,” for instance, is a code word for changing the law so that injured human beings have less recourse against the source of their injury. It is cloaked in terms of limiting outrageous settlements (which makes lots of sense) but what it ultimately does is protect corporations from accountability. The corporations win, individuals lose.

I toss this out as one example of turning justice into the bitterness of wormwood.

Where is the vision of the wellbeing of the people? What happens when the law is structured to favor some to the disadvantage of others? When it is no longer impartial?

What does it say of our nation when we have multiple standards, when we start demanding laws that penalize aliens in our land? Is that a “godly” standard?

The same law applies to the native-born and to the alien living among you. (Exodus 12:49)

You are to have the same law for the alien and the native-born. I am the LORD your God. (Leviticus 24:22)

The same laws and regulations will apply both to you and to the alien living among you. (Numbers 15:16)

I’m just sayin’.

There is a lot of talk these days about issues of faith and politics. I am a firm believer in the separation of church and state. I do not want the state meddling in my faith, I do not want an established faith, I do not want anything that smacks of theocracy. I believe in secular government that governs for the benefit of all with freedom to practice any faith or no faith, and no religious tests whatsoever with regards to government office.

I do not care if the President of the United States is Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, Jew, Wiccan, agnostic, or atheist so long as she or he will uphold the law, seek the welfare of the people of the United States, and pursue policies the foster peace and justice.

I do, however, believe that the God revealed in the Bible expects certain values to be lived out the lives of followers. Some of the rules and traditions appear historically conditioned and others universal. There is argument over which category some things fall into. But standards of justice and impartiality in judgment so clearly run through multiple strands of scripture that they cannot be easily dismissed.

It thus behooves us to stand up for justice and fight against its distortion and perversion.

Not an especially pious meditation for this Friday, but something we dare not ignore.

He brings God’s rule, O Zion; he comes from heaven above.
His rule is peace and freedom, and justice, truth, and love.
Lift high your praise resounding, for grace and joy abounding.
Oh, blest is Christ that came in God’s most holy name.
(Hymn 65, verse 2)

I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand I shall not fall. (Psalm 16:8)

--the BB