April 30, 2021 Day 80 1 Kings 5:1–8:66



Now the LORD has upheld the promise that he made

King Solomon, David’s son is praying to God as he dedicates the temple he’s just completed. There are pages and pages of descriptions of the temple. It was hard to stay attentive to the description, with all the incredible detail, and some words and measurements I didn’t understand. But I’m sure it was a spectacle to behold, with gold overlayed statues, and columns of fine stone.

Solomon is convinced that God has fulfilled the promise that God made, that Solomon would be king and build the temple, and here is Solomon, crowned king, and in front of the completed temple. God upheld God’s promise.

The accompanying reflection asks about promises that I feel God has made to me. God has never spoken to me about temples, or parking spaces, or even the healing of my loved one. So in some ways, I’m ill equipped to reflect on God’s promises to me. I haven’t had any concrete promises from God that I can assess.

But perhaps more important, my tradition has a baptismal covenant, a two way binding agreement, where both God and the baptized are committing things to each other. This contains the most personal promises that I feel God has made me. These petitions were offered over me, when I was marked as God’s own forever as a baby. Rereading them now, and knowing that I was the ‘her’ at my baptism – that I am still the ‘her’ all these years later, it’s a tender, personal commitment from God.

Open her heart to your grace and truth.

Fill her with the holy and life-giving Spirit

Keep her in the faith and communion of your holy church

Teach her to love others in the power of the Spirit

Send her into the world to witness to your love

These, I believe God has delivered. Of course, I’ve only partially lived out each of these, as I’m a work in progress. Sometimes I’m better at receiving God’s fulfilled promises. But when I can be open to receiving these gifts, God has already given them, and will continue.

This morning, I’m thinking about all of the ways God has made and fulfilled deeply personal commitments to me. What a gift my faith is.

Apr 29 Day 79 1 Kings 1:1-5

Be strong, be courageous, and keep the charge of the LORD your God, walking in his ways and keeping his statutes, his commandments, his ordinances, and his testimonies, as it is written in the law of Moses, so that you may prosper in all that you do and wherever you turn.

David is dying, and the battles are already beginning between his heirs; who will become David’s successor? One conniving son self-proclaims himself as the next king, while David is still alive. Solomon’s mother, Bathsheba appeals to David that Solomon was supposed to be successor. So David makes it so, much to the dismay of Adonijah, the self-proclaimed heir. The battle lines are drawn, and there is death and destruction to Adonijah and his followers. But in the end, Solomon, wise and rich, rules. As David’s death draws near, he commends Solomon to be strong, courageous, and walk in God’s ways.

The accompanying writing for this reading is from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, 20th century pastor and martyr killed by the Nazis. As he was in a concentration camp, he wrote “[W]e should no longer equate human ways and aims with divine ways and aims. God is beyond all human plans and actions.” Both David and Bonhoeffer were facing their certain deaths. And yet both showed an incredible faith in God and God’s ways.

We all have struggles and challenges, and gratefully few of us are facing death at a concentration camp. And still it’s when our life is challenged that our faith falters. How could God let this happen, or not solve that problem? Or worse, our faith is obliterated by the concerns and values of the world. Clearly there is no God, if our world looks like this.

It’s amazing and inspiring to me that Bonhoeffer was so faithful as to suggest that we should not look at God’s ways from the perspective of human ways. God’s aims are not the same as human aims. Knowing where he was, and what German children of God had done to Jews, and pacifists, and homosexuals and people from other countries, and knowing what the German children of God were likely to do to him, Bonhoeffer was able to still put his faith in God’s aims and ways. A less faithful man could have easily refuted and turned away from God, a God who watched the atrocities unfold.

But today, I can absolutely understand Bonhoeffer’s stubborn commitment to God’s ways. Human ways are so arbitrary and mean, what would Bonhoeffer had left if he’d put his hope in humanity, if he didn’t have a faith in God and God’s mysterious aims?

Yesterday, my loved one returned to Portland to live in a tent in our front yard, after over a week being homeless, getting stitches for a cut, getting arrested for burglary, and shoplifting to survive. When they returned and set up the tent, it was not long after they fell soundly asleep, visibly and vocally exhausted. The night air was punctuated with bits of loud conversations with no one, and coughing from the cold air and smoking. To be clear, there was no visible gratitude for my husband’s successful extraction mission. No apparent change in the deep held belief that we are abusers. That’s why they’re living in a tent, because they cannot live in our house safely. They must have been so miserable before, to have made the choice to return.

Their illness keeps them from probably fully understanding the seriousness and risks of the past two weeks. But my husband and I made up for that, worrying for all three of us. I did not face anything similar to my loved one, or to Bonhoeffer. And I retain a dogged faith in God’s ways. It’s not that I think God will magically wipe everything away, but honestly, what would I have had left, if I’d walked away from God? My husband does not share my faith, but I think in some little way, he was able to hold on to a hope in an overall good plan, in part because of my outlook.

This morning, I’m thinking about God’s grace that allowed me to hold on to faith in the face of a multitude of human aims and ways that could have easily overwhelmed that faith. God’s grace provides the lifeline onto which we can hold, when the storm seems like it could sweep us out to sea.

Apr 28 2021 Day 78 2 Samuel 20:1–24:25



He said: The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge, my savior; you save me from violence.

Whew. It’s hard to keep track of all of the friends and foes and sins and offerings in David’s world. At one point, the Lord tells him to take a census of the people of Israel. Apparently, this was something the Lord asked David because he was angry with David. David did what the Lord asked. A few verses later, however, we hear that David was stricken to the heart because he had numbered the people, and prayed to God, “Lord, I have sinned greatly in what I have done”. I’m sure I missed something, both in my glazing over of the unfamiliar names and in my lack of awareness of the gravity of the job of counting. Did the Lord ask David to do something that ultimately was sinful, and the Lord punished David for doing? That’s the way it reads. And I’ve got nothing.

But this section of Samuel is chock full of David’s expressed faith and trust in God. The Lord is my rock, my fortress, my deliverer. The Lord is the one in whom I take refuge, my stronghold, and the Lord saves me from violence. Those are some strong words, all strung together.

I’m reminded of Anselm, who my tradition celebrated last week. He wrote about the relationship between understanding and belief, saying “I do not seek to understand that I may believe, but believe that I may understand.” We say these things, like David’s litany of aspirations, as a statement of belief, often without the accompanying understanding.

I don’t understand why God is my rock. My deliverer. Saver. But I believe it to be true. And over time, the dogged belief creates room for understanding, inch by inch. Or maybe not full understanding, but certainly a deeper belief.

It’s an interesting dance, between what my head thinks, my heart feels, and my soul knows. Each one of these intrepid parts takes their turn leading me, and the other two follow. Sometimes they follow reluctantly, but they follow.

Right now, my soul knows that my loved one will be ok, in whatever way is God’s way. My heart aches, and my head isn’t so sure. But I’ll hold on to the what my soul knows for now, and pray the other two get in line. God is my rock. God is my loved one’s deliverer.

Apr 26 2021 Day 77 2 Samuel 15:1–19:43

“If the universe is not governed by an absolute goodness, then all our efforts are in the long run hopeless” ~CS Lewis, Mere Christianity



Today we continue the saga of David and the fickleness of humans. He’s got foes who are his children, foes who are the children of his original foes, and friends who are children’s children of his original foes. It doesn’t help that the names aren’t familiar, so it’s hard to keep track of who’s on what side. Throw in some advisors who are friends or foes or both and it’s complicated. As I was nearing the end of the reading, I was wondering how the accompanying reflection was going to tie it together, since I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

The reflection from CS Lewis focuses on God’s absolute goodness. His basic point is that although we all occasionally want to believe that God overlooks our problems, that God has high God-standards at all times, except when we need God’s standards to bend to accommodate our behavior, deep down, we know better. We know that God must be absolutely good, otherwise nothing makes sense.

If my God can accommodate my foibles with different standards, what about your God, or the God of the really bad criminal? If God’s standards bend to my wishes, do they do that for everyone who petitions God? What’s left of God’s goodness then? Thank you, CS Lewis. That makes sense.

Back to David, I think the connection is that David and all the people in this book have good and bad bits, good and bad behavior. Their behavior is fickle and arbitrary. God is not. Bad behavior is bad, even if it’s done by a good person. God has infinite mercy, so bad behavior isn’t a life sentence, but it is bad behavior, nonetheless.

This is comforting to me. I’d rather have a God who is always good, and always knows good, than a God who is relatively good.

This is a complicated reading for me today. My loved one has committed a crime and now is in custody. God is absolutely good. Their behavior was not. I’m not sure how this will all resolve, but I do know God is good. All the time.

Apr 24 2021 Day 76 2 Samuel 11:1–14:39



But the thing that David had done displeased the LORD and the LORD sent Nathan to David.



David has committed adultery, and conniving murder to get rid of her husband. Nathan goes to David and tells him so. Prophets are not so much future tellers, as they are truth tellers. They hold up a mirror to bad behavior, and call them out on their bad behavior, often without societal norms of tact and decorum. It is possible that I’ve been charged with this kind of tactless talk. It is possible it has gotten me in trouble.

And to be a prophet also means to be willing to take on the power structure. As someone who has always had great respect for authority, perhaps more than due, this is an area where my prophetic voice is frequently silenced. When asked, I will always speak my truth. When silenced, I tend to remain silenced.

It’s a tricky balance, to be an authority-deferent prophet, one I’m still learning.

Update on family drama: My husband and I travelled to the town where the thought our loved one had gone. It’s where we lived for years before moving to Portland. We drove all of the places where people tended to congregate – parks, plazas, downtown corners. Oregon has a ‘no eviction’ rule in effect during COVID, so land lords cannot evict people for not paying rent. That’s also been translated to government cannot evict homeless camps on public property, so we saw hundreds of tents in dozens of different sites around town. We walked through a few, but found nothing, or anyone who’d seen our loved one.

After lunch, we thought we’d drive towards our old home. Miraculously we saw our loved one, sitting on a bike trail drinking a beer. We approached, and they were not eager to see us, and definitely not interested in joining us. We talked for about 30 minutes, and eventually they got up to leave. My mama-bear instincts kicked in, and I could not leave them. I walked behind, with my husband driving slowly behind for another hour.

They periodically yelled rape very loudly, went to strangers’ homes to explain that we were attacking them, but kept walking. I remained a few yards behind. I tried to convince that they were sick enough to go to the hospital, and we’d be happy to take them. That they’d likely encounter the police or crisis workers, and we could avoid that if we just went to the hospital first.

Although that was definitely true, they did not want to hear that truth. They turned on me and threw several punches, one which knocked me over. Shakily, I called the police. Did I want to press charges? No. I want them to get the help they need. The police and crisis workers talked with them for another hour, while my husband and I retreated to our parked car. After an hour and further outbursts, they walked away, unwilling to go to the hospital voluntarily. And not sick enough to be forced.

So we returned to Portland, knowing our loved one was increasingly sick, increasingly vulnerable, and unwilling to accept the help of the crisis workers, or us. We may return to that town next week to continue to try to get them the help and services they need. It may or may not work. But as the spring rains begin again, it’s imposible not to try.

A break

Yesterday, I read my daily bit of scripture, working my way through the love/hate relationship between Saul and his descendants and David. I did not write, because I was distracted. Our loved one is not holed up in a downtown hotel, having a staycation. They have once again thrown away all of their documentation and phone (it’s a covert tracking device, you know), and disappeared. They called the night before, telling us the banks weren’t working and the $100 we’d put in the bank as part of their monthly discretionary spending was not available. If we’d only just put more money in, everything would be fine. And oh, by the way, they’d never contact us again. By checking the phone number from where they called, it appeared to be a convenience shop about 2 hours away. So I was distracted. Today, we will drive to that town to try to find them, checking in with the police, crisis workers and psychiatric hospital. Distracted, to say the least. 

I headed to work, had a big meeting in the early afternoon, and after that meeting was informed my job is being eliminated in 3 weeks. Perhaps harder for my heart was the removal of my volunteer work as coordinator and supporter of the deacon community.

I absolutely understand why this happened, I was hired by and effectively complimented my previous boss. That was not so for the new boss, who needs to find someone and hire them who effectively compliment them. I am not that person.

I will spend the next two weeks off-loading my work to the remaining employees in as smooth a way as possible, and I believe that can be done successfully.

Meanwhile, I was struggling with how to engage with my coworkers and colleagues as well as the Church in general. I’m not one to wallow, at least for very long. Nor am I one to cut off my nose to spite my face.

Spiritual practices came to the rescue. Again. One of my go-to resources is Pray-as-you-go, (https://pray-as-you-go.org) a Jesuit daily podcast that includes some contemplative music, a brief scripture reading, some reflections, more contemplative music, and a closing prayer. It takes about 15 minutes, and is generally balm for my soul, so I brought the portable speaker in and listened as I was getting ready for my day. Today’s music was from Salt of the Sound, a haunting and beautiful version of “Abide with Me”. https://youtu.be/zotbY2A2ybM. The reading was about Jesus and the vine. Abide with me. 

It turns out that run away sick children, volunteer jobs, and paying jobs are not what define me or can dictate my outlook on life. It’s fully, completing abiding in God. I so needed to hear that.

The next few weeks may be rougher than normal, as I tumble through what this temporal world has handed me. But I can and will always return to abiding in God, eternal and changeless. Always.

Apr 21 2021 Day 74 2 Samuel 5:1–7:29



David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the L ORD with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals.



Saul is dead, David is king. And the first thing David and the people do is dance and make music. The accompanying reflection is from Eugene Peterson who writes, “David’s first job as king was making music, attempting to re-establish the divine order in Saul’s disordered mind and emotions. Establishing order in the midst of chaos is basic to kingwork. Music is probably our most elemental experience of this essential work. Music, bringing rhythm and harmony and tunefulness into being, is at the heart of all work. Kingworkers, whatever their jobs, whistle while they work.” Yes. Yes. Yes.

I love the idea that music is creating order, and it accompanies the business of order-making. I think about prodigy composers, somehow pulling from their brain lines of melody and harmony, point and counterpoint, and turning it into lines, spaces and dots on a page. Composing has always seemed like magic to me. Now I will add order-making to that list.

The same can be said for any musician. Music is making order, whether it’s whistling, singing or playing. And it definitely does soothe the savage beast. David began his business of order-making by making-music. Whereas before it might have seemed like a fanciful first step, I have a newfound appreciation for David and his lyre.

One reason this resonates so well today with me is because of my yesterday. Two nights ago, we discovered that our loved one had done their laundry, packed a suitcase and left the house. We had no idea where they’d gone. All we knew was that it was well past the time when we’d have expected them to return, even if they didn’t have a suitcase. Since we’ve been through this a half a dozen times, we knew what our job would have been, and we didn’t want to start that night. So, unlike previous times, we went to bed and slept on it, fitfully.

Yesterday, we awoke better rested to an empty house, and began the process. We started with a call to the police, to report them as missing. This always requires a call-back or visit by officers, which put everything on hold until that connection was made. We couldn’t go for a mind-clearing walk, in case they showed up. We couldn’t make work calls, unless they called. We waited. And while I waited, I decided to do a deep clean of the living room, where I could simultaneously look out the window, in case they showed up.

And guess what? I grabbed my cleaning stuff, put on up-beat music, and got to it. For about 45 minutes, I sprayed and scrubbed and swept and whistled and sung. The music calmed my mind, made the time go faster, and provided some order to my scattered mind. For that time, I was in the zone, and music absolutely helped.

Eventually, we heard from the police, who’d look out for her. Meanwhile, the City was anxiously awaiting the verdict on the murder of George Floyd, so we knew that the police focus was divided at best. We checked all our normal ways of seeing where our loved one was, including some internet sleuthing, and phone calling. Eventually we travelled downtown, their default destination, and drove around for about an hour, up one street and down the next. Nothing.

So we returned home, and tried to continue with our day-job work, albeit distractedly. By mid-afternoon, our loved one called to explain they were fine, that they’d needed a holiday so they’d gone to a Hilton Hotel, and were planning to stay there until their money ran out. Thanks, stimulus check. When the money ran out, they’d return to our house, but they were resting, and away from prying eyes. They had to quickly get off the phone at one point, because they had an appointment to go to the pool. Hmm.

We aren’t exactly sure what is going on, where they are, or when or how they’re planning on returning. But they called us, and that is huge. That shows two important things. First they understood they should call someone to check in, that they’re part of a society or system that does have some expectations. Even bigger than this is that they called us. Despite the name calling, and the allegations, they know we are their people. We are in their corner.

Meanwhile, our house is quieter, and last night I slept well and long. Sometime in the next few days we expect another call, with the next installment of this current saga. In the meantime, I will work, with the radio on, humming away.

Apr 19 2021 Day 73 2 Samuel 1:1–4:12



O daughters of Israel, weep over Saul


Saul has died. In the end, his gallant effort to fall on his own sword was unsuccessful, so he succeeded in getting Amalekite to kill him. Amalekite has gone to David to tell him of the deaths of Saul and Jonathan. David tore his clothes, and sung a lamentation about the deaths and ordered that it be taught to the people. Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely. How the mighty have fallen.

David listens to Amalekite’s story, tears his clothes, sings his song, and is still so upset that he orders Amalekite killed right then, for having killed the king.

This is the same Saul who has repeatedly tried to kill David. And yet, David mourns. What greater affront is there to a person than to try to take their life, except to try repeatedly? And yet, David is inconsolable, and mourning. This says something to me about forgiveness.

We all have been wronged, or felt betrayed, or attacked. Few have had repeated attempts on our lives. I don’t know about you, but I’m able to hold on to hurts for a lot longer than it appears David did, for seemingly inconsequential things. I’m not sure that I’d write poetry and rend my clothes on the occasion of the death of those who have sinned against me.

What did David have that I don’t? Or how did he see things differently? I can only guess, but I can imagine that he did not forget Saul’s betrayals. Rather, he was able to hold that at the same time that he held on to Saul’s loveliness, and kindness. Saul’s evil didn’t negate his goodness. Saul’s bad acts didn’t make him entirely bad, any more than his good acts made him entirely good. Perhaps David was even able to separate the acts from the person entirely. What Saul did was not who he was. He was a beloved child of God, who sometimes did good things and sometimes did bad. His behavior did not define his soul, both when Saul behaved well and when he behaved badly.

What does that say about today’s culture and our quickness to make people heroes or villains? Should we be determining someone’s entire character by their behavior? Doesn’t that make it too easy for us to miss the complexity of human nature?

Take any overcharged conflict now. Was the policeman who kneeled on George Floyd’s neck behave badly? Absolutely! Should he be held accountable? Absolutely. Was he a villain, through and through? Absolutely not. He probably had lots of wonderful traits, and even in his job had done good things. And regardless of his behavior, he’s a beloved child of God. People are doing the same thing now to George Floyd. Was he a perfect good human, a hero? Absolutely not. But regardless, he was a beloved child of God.

If you look at any conflict, political, social, interpersonal, you can probably do the same thing. Identify good and bad behavior from both players. And if David is a model to be followed, we should not make heroes or villains out of any of them. Their behavior speaks for itself, and in the end will be judged by God. We are asked to love. Regardless. That’s what David did.

Apr 18 2021 Day 72 1 Samuel 29:1–31:13

So Saul took his own sword and fell upon it.

After a life of doing great and terrible things, Saul took his own life. He’d been severely injured and didn’t want the enemy to find him, and “make sport” of him.

In my own life, I have one similar experience with people taking their own life. My father in law took advantage of Oregon’s death with dignity laws, and after months of struggling through liver cancer that had spread, and a stroke, he took his life with a doctor-prescribed concoction. This took place in my home, with four generations nearby, and was a lovely send off. I cannot speak to whether this was empirically right, or whether it was tampering with God’s plan. I can say that it was right for him, and if that was tampering with God’s plan, so too was the quadruple bypass he’d had ten years prior. All I know is that at the time, I was called to be hospitable, present, and loving.

Our loved one is struggling again. They have spent more time not-hospitalized than they ever have, since this insidious disease. What this means is that despite the struggles, they’re learning to manage a little better, or at least well enough to stay out of the reaches of the police and crisis workers. But boy, do they still struggle.

Yesterday, they walked around the neighborhood filming their journey and their turbulent thoughts. The thoughts included things like “I know everyone in the world”, “My parents are aliens”, “They rape me all the time”, “They steal my food and tampons”, “Those people are following me”, “I need to get out of that house”. This stream of sentiments were accompanied by anger, giggling, anxiety, shaking and tears. I would only know about this because they posted it for the world to see on YouTube. It was heartbreaking.

Every time the police or crisis workers are engaged, the ask whether our loved one has expressed suicidal thoughts or actions. Every time, we have to say no. Our loved one cries, doesn’t understand, wants out, is angry, scared. The two most horrible things are that the torment is coming from inside their brain, and there is no cure.

Have they expressed a desire to harm themselves? The most honest answer should be, “not yet”. The suicide rate among people with schizophrenia is higher than for the normal population. I’ve read that people with this disease have a significantly shorter average life expectancy than those without, and of those who die prematurely, upwards of 40% die by suicide. Another statistic said that 10% of all those with schizophrenia will commit suicide. Honestly, watching my loved one, I’m surprised it’s that low.

I cannot imagine the relentless chatter and torment. The failed attempts at medicinal cures, hospitalizations, ridicule, isolation.

The reflection accompanying the reading asks why Saul didn’t cry out to God? Was he more afraid of his enemies making sport of his dying self, the pain, or God? I don’t know what to think of that question. In Saul’s case, he was mortally injured. He didn’t want to be tortured by the enemies, probably either because of the pain or the humiliation. My father-in-law was a man of deep faith. He didn’t give up, ever. He didn’t stop praying, ever. But eventually, the vessel that was his body had given up. He was ready to rid himself of that vessel, not because he’d given up on God, but because he had a deep faith in God.

My loved one does not have the capacity to pray now, at least not with her head. All I can pray is that the Spirit that resides in them prays when they don’t have the words. And honestly, it appears to be cold comfort to them right now.

This morning, I’m thinking about what it means to take your own life, and if anyone else could have the insight to weigh in. When is the vessel too broken?

Apr 17 2021 Day 71 1 Samuel 25:1–28:25

[T]omorrow you and your sons shall be with me



Despite David sparing his life before, and despite Saul’s deep gratitude at being saved, he once again pursues David. David and his men find Saul sleeping and again David spares Saul’s life. He however steals Saul’s spear, and when Saul and his men awaken, explains that he’s spared his life again. In the meantime, David has left Israel to try to get out of Saul’s reach, and joined the Philistines. As the Philistines are preparing to fight Israel, Saul is afraid, fearing once again he’ll be destroyed. He seeks a medium who conjures up Samuel. Samuel tells Saul that because of his deep and persistent sin, the next day he and his sons will die, and join Samuel.

The accompanying reflection focuses on Saul given the fact that he’s just been told his sin will cost his life and the lives of his sons, and asks what I’d do to turn around great negative patterns in my life. Hmm.

I would hope that if I’d raised up a great man to be king who’d defeated Goliath, if I’d seen what Saul had seen, and been warned by God numerous times before, that I’d be able to identify my bad behavior, and stop it. I hope that I’d recognize that the stakes were high and very real. If I’d asked a medium about my future and my past mentor rose up and laid out my sins and explained I was going to die, that would be something to heed. But I haven’t had the same reminders of God’s wishes in my life. I would hope that if God was as clear with me as God was with Saul, I’d get the hint.

I don’t have the luxury of the same in-your-face God prompts as Saul. I need to seek and find them elsewhere. I need a human-scale model to help guide me and my behavior, to help correct the course when I’ve gone astray. I need Jesus.

When I study what Jesus did, said and asked of me, it becomes a little easier to navigate.

So back to the original question, what would I do to turn around negative patterns? First I’d have to constantly live in the presence and awareness of positive patterns. Without that, I might not recognize the negative ones. Ideally, I need a daily relationship with prayer and scripture and a community of faith. That helps me recognize negative patterns in me, because of the dissonance created between what I surround myself with, and what’s going on inside me. That’s when regular public confession of sin comes in for me. Once I see the negative thing in me, I can speak it out loud and seek the will and grace to stop. Every day if necessary. And once I recognize a negative pattern, I think I need to rely on those same things to help break the negative pattern, prayer, scripture and a community of faith full people.

Come to think of it, I think I’d rather have my experience and relationship of God and God’s prompts than Saul’s.

Apr 15 2021 Day 70 1 Samuel 21:1–24:22



[Y]ou have repaid me good, whereas I have repaid you evil.

Saul has continued to pursue David. Eventually, Saul goes to “relieve himself”, and at that time, David comes upon him, and could have easily killed him. But instead, God instructs him to leave the retaliation and judgment to God. So David simply cuts off a corner of Saul’s cloak, and then questions Saul as to why Saul was so relentlessly after his life. In return, Saul sees things in a new way. You, David have repaid me good, where I have repaid you evil.

What a lot to learn from these characters. First, neither Saul nor David are without blame. They both behave badly, and that behavior is chronicled extensively. And yet, we can learn from both of them. To me, this is instructive because even people who are imperfect and sometimes even behave in evil ways have things to teach us. After all, aren’t we by definition all imperfect people who sometimes behave in evil ways? In this time of big cultural and political schism, wouldn’t it be great if we could see past the imperfections of ‘the other’, and learn from them? And even seek out what they have to teach, rather than dismissing them as useless? Who would think that David, with all his foibles would become a great King? We’re all useful.

When David finds Saul, he does not retaliate. He does not meet Saul’s actions with like-minded violent actions. He tells Saul that God will sort this all out, but that David will not harm Saul. David is not without his own faults, but at this moment, he’s able to back down from an ongoing tussle, at the exact moment when he could have ended the battle. It seems to me that we are all called to end the tussles by turning the retribution and judgment to God, especially at that moment when it’s easiest to take the judgment into our own hands.

Finally I’m struck that Saul, after his tireless pursuit of David, is able to turn and see things in a new way. All it took was a little bit of grace from David’s part. David didn’t kill him when he had a chance. He didn’t even maim or threaten him. David explained, in an almost imploring way, that he was not going to hurt Saul, that Saul was the Lord’s anointed. As Saul acknowledges, David repays Saul’s actions with goodness. And that made all the difference to Saul’s repentance.

With his handing things over to God, David did end the tussle, but in a peaceful way that resurrected the relationship that David and Saul had. Today, I hope to remember that I can learn from anyone, that God’s judgment is better than mine, and that grace can turn things around.

Apr 14 Day 69 1 Samuel 18:1–20:42 

Go in peace, since both of us have sworn in the name of the LORD , saying, ‘The LORD shall be between me and you, and between my descendants and your descendants, forever.’

Jonathan, Saul’s son has befriended David. Saul originally loved and supported David, but eventually it seems felt threatened. Saul became fixated on destroying David, despite David being his son-in-law, and his own son’s best friend. Both Saul’s daughter Michal, and son Jonathan took great steps to save David’s life, against the known wishes of their father.

Eventually, it becomes clear Saul will not stop until he’s killed David. His son Jonathan works out an arrangement with David to alert him if this is the case. And unfortunately it is. So despite being deeply loving friends, David and Jonathan part ways, so David can be safe, out of the reach of Saul.

The whole reading is sad. David loses his mentor and father figure, Saul. And he loses a friend he loved deeply. David and Jonathan gave up everything to save David’s life. Actually, almost everything. What they kept was the knowledge of their deep and abiding friendship, and a three-way covenant between them and God. At their parting, Jonathan reminds David that the Lord shall between the two of them and their descendants forever.

People married in a Christian ceremony say that the two are being united in God forever, that God is present in this now three-way covenant. But until today, I hadn’t really thought about that same three-way relationship with friends and God. But clearly, that’s what Jonathan and David are cementing as they depart from each other.

This morning, I’m thinking about the friends I have and how God is involved in those relationships, bidden or unbidden. Like the friend who texted me this morning, grateful for me and noting that she was sad that Jonathan lost his BFF. Even with distance, friendship remains. And even future generations will know of our friendship. My daughter has referred to one of her friends as “my Katherine”. I love the notion that friendship, like marriage is united in and by God. Good friends, casual acquaintances, colleagues. For people of faith, God is involved in our relationships, in the space between two people. Today, I want to see if I can recognize that.

Apr 13 2021 Day 68 1 Samuel 16:1–17:58

  

[T]he LORD does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.



Samuel has been charged with finding the next king from amongst Jesse’s sons. All of the strapping, healthy, successful sons are trotted out, and God tells Samuel, not that one. No son is left, except young ruddy David, but everyone thinks it can’t possibly be David. But yes, it is. And because everyone overlooked David, God tells Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or the height of his stature.” Rather, God reminds Samuel that God sees what is in the heart.

Oh, to be able to see like God sees. We see people and dismiss them or disparage them. Addicts, people too rich or too poor for our tastes, too right or too left, too evangelical or too Muslim. People who’ve hurt us, or not helped us. We see the outside. Maybe sometimes we think we see the insides, we think we know what’s in their hearts.

But only God really knows what’s in someone’s heart. Imagine if we had glasses so we could see like God sees, if we could see beyond the ugly, the broken, the illness. No such glasses exist. How else might we see as God sees? In my faith tradition, when we are either baptized or we reconfirm the vows we took at baptism, we say, I will seek and serve Christ in all persons, respecting the dignity of every human being, with God’s help. All persons. Every human being. Maybe I cannot see as God sees, but I make a commitment to serve Christ in all people. 

Maybe I cannot see as God sees, but I can strive to behave as if I do. I can do that by living out those covenants I make, and fully believing it to be true. Christ is present in every person. As such, I must treat them with respect and dignity, and see beyond the labels, the additions, the dirt, the politics. I need to seek Christ, which may be as close as I’ll get to seeing as God sees.

Apr 12 2021 Day 67 1 Samuel 13:1–15:35

But Samuel said, “What then is this bleating of sheep in my ears, and the lowing of cattle that I hear?”



God has told Saul to go and take down the Amalekites, every last one including the king and every living thing. Saul almost does this, killing almost every living thing except the king who he captured, and the best sheep and cattle for sacrifice or spoils. When he returns to Samuel, proud because he’s done what he thought he was supposed to Samuel hears the animals in the background, and realizes that Saul did not kill every living thing. Saul’s excuse is that he brought the animals for sacrifice to the Lord. Samuel retorts that God would prefer obedience over sacrifice.

Obedience. That’s not something we 21st Century Americans consider a high priority. Rather, we’re ruggedly individualistic, artistic, unique. I’m reminded of the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics in Beijing, linked here: https://youtu.be/TA0ZVxHRxCM. Over two thousand drummers in synch. That’s obedience, and that’s not what the US would highlight if we were hosting. We’d show how special some are, how unique, how artistic. I can’t imagine it’s easier for the Chinese to be obedient innately, but it is a cultural norm, or at least that was our experience when we travelled to China.

Obedience is definitely not a strength of mine. My mother even successfully talked me out of joining the army after college, explaining that I might struggle with following orders, especially when I deemed the order-giver or the order-given to be stupid. She knew me.

I wonder where I do this with God. God says do this, and I start on the right path, but eventually veer off, because of something shinier, or truer, or more to my liking. Sometimes I start gung-ho with some spiritual practice, only to peter out before my commitment is done. Sometimes I follow what I think I’m called to do or where I’m called to serve, and then second-guess my actions. Of course, sometimes changing up the course is what we are supposed to do because we’ve held on to the previous path or practice just a little too long for its value.

One area I’m feeling very disobedient these days is with food. I love good food. I love the taste of good food, and eating good food. And I don’t love the accompanying weight accompanies unbridled love of food. I start thinking I’m going to be obedient to a healthier way of eating, and can hold on to it for a while. But eventually, nope. To be clear, I wouldn’t say I’m struggling with my weight. Rather, I’m intrigued at my absolute lack of obedience to a different way of eating.

I mention food because obedience, or lack of obedience comes in all sorts of packages, big and small. I don’t think God is calling me to skip happy hour with my husband after work. But there is something for me to learn about obedience to God, in my absolute lack of obedience when it comes to good tasting food. Perhaps the first step to being obedience to God is figuring out how to have God help me be obedient to myself.

Apr 10 2021 Day 65 1 Samuel 4:1–7:17

 

Let us bring the ark of the covenant of the LORD here from Shiloh, so that he may come among us and save us from the power of our enemies.

The Philistines have captured the ark of the covenant, the very vessel that contained the tablets with the ten commandments. The Israelites believed that God’s presence was contained in the ark, and to have the ark in one’s possession meant to be somehow protected. Especially when things were going badly, the Israelites sought the protection of the ark, as if it held special powers.

The accompanying reflection for this section by N. T. Wright focuses on the idea of sacraments. In my faith tradition, a sacrament is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. Baptism, the pouring of water and anointing with oil are signs of God’s indwelling and claiming of a person. Something real happens with sacraments, it’s not just a representation. This is why sacramental Christians have been so eager to return to church during this time of pandemic; something real happens at Holy Communion. Grace is conveyed in a real way, sure and certain. Yes, God’s grace is conveyed in other ways, and isn’t a certainty.

I remember a class I took on the Eucharist, on how as a deacon we set the table, and assist with Eucharist. I was a little troubled that God’s grace could only be conveyed at an altar, and a priest, and little bread wafers that look more like fish food than bread. I’d recently participated in a congregant meal for the homeless that was far more grace-filled than some Eucharist services. Were they suggesting that that wasn’t a God granted grace filled moment? Did we really need to have a priest bless and consecrate the bread in order for it to be Eucharistic?

The consensus was that while God’s grace is often conveyed elsewhere without a priest or consecration, in our tradition, it is a certainty with the consecration by a priest. I’ve been to plenty of meals where bread or wine are shared and God’s grace is absolutely conveyed, with or without a priest. And I’ve been to plenty where God’s grace wasn’t present. Our tradition holds that the sacraments are sure and certain.

It doesn’t have to be at a fancy altar or using the prescribed words. I was at a church service a few years ago held by a downtown church, held in conjunction with a meal for the community’s neediest folks. It didn’t look anything like church, except it had all the parts. People, bread, wine, a reading from the Gospel, Lord’s Prayer, prayers for the good and bad, and a priest. It was a lovely church service, and deeply meaningful for those who attended.

I had a priest friend explain to me that to be a person of faith, people need to believe that something is absolutely true, something bigger than themselves. In grossly oversimplified terms, he relayed that many protestant Christians hold Scripture to be absolutely true. Roman Catholic Christians hold that the institution of the Church is absolutely true. Anglicans hold that sacraments are absolutely true. Again, this is a gross stereotype, but there is some truth to it, at least it makes sense to me.

Of course the challenge with any of these absolute truths is that they can become talisman or constraints. People who hold that scripture is absolute truth can get hung up on parts of scripture’s truths, while dismissing other parts that are less convenient. But truth is truth. People who hold that the institution is true can get wrapped up in defending an institution that is fallible, while still holding that the institution is beyond reproach. And people who believe sacraments are true can turn them into idols or talisman, as did the Israelites with their idea that the ark of the covenant would protect them.

I don’t have an answer to this, other than to suggest that it’s ok to hold something as true, as long as we don’t let it get in the way between us and God. After all, that is the point.

Apr 9 2021 Day 64 1 Samuel 1:1–3:21



I am a woman deeply troubled; . . . I have been pouring out my soul before the LORD.

Hannah is a barren woman, who feels deep shame and bitterness about that. She goes to the temple and prays deeply, and we hear, weeps bitterly. She bargains with God that if God gives her a child, she will dedicate it to the temple. She does bear a son, Samuel, and he is dedicated to the temple. He is called by God in the middle of the night, and mistakes the voice for Eli, the temple priest. ‘Samuel, Samuel’. After waking Eli up several times to inquire about Eli’s calling, Eli suggests that it’s a call from God, and instead of waking Eli up, Samuel should respond, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening”. Ah, to have a clear call from God that calls me by name! Speak Lord, for your servant is listening. Of late, I’m very drawn to God’s call to us, and whether we hear or respond. I love Samuel’s call story.

And today, my interest is more piqued by Hannah’s prayer, and her absolute freedom to express what she wants, as well as her anger. True, she’s in despair. But she also displays a trust in and familiarity with God to be able to expose those raw, vulnerable emotions.

I can remember two times in my life where I cried out to God, one time with tear streaked face I asked for help. My son, now in his third year at Harvard Law, was in the process of flaming out of high school, dropping out without completing his sophomore year. I’ve heard it said that a parent can only be as happy as their most unhappy child. At that time, he was my most unhappy child, unable to bring himself to school and absolutely confused as to why. His choices, as I saw them, were to enter university 2 years early, go to a boarding school or drop out. I remember expressing my deep despair and frustration to God, and I can remember exactly where I was.

The second time was the evening we discovered our daughter had totaled our volvo station wagon in an underage DUI, and was spending the night in jail. At the time, I worked for the police department, so I was notified of the accident, and able to find out more details about her from my boss the chief. But as I laid in bed, I remember the fear, frustration, confusion, anger, and my petition to God.

Those were pretty extreme moments of worry, and the only times I recall having that soul-bearing conversation and petition with God. In my faith tradition, we have opportunities for petitioning God on behalf of others, for confessing our sins, for giving thanks, in every time we gather. The words are printed in a book, and they’re so familiar I don’t need to look. Sometimes, this is spectacular for my over-thinking head, because the words keep my mind busy enough that prayers are formed behind the words.

And sometimes the words are so familiar, I say them while I’m thinking about my grocery list.

What if I were able to really really mean the words. Comfort and heal all those who suffer in body, mind, or spirit; give them courage and hope in their troubles. What if I prayed these words with that same desperate sense? Could I bring that level of awareness to my petitions to God?

This morning, I’m thinking about how to better connect the words we say, and the deep emotions and needs we have as we pray. I don’t think that connection would make me prayers more effective, or heard, or genuine to God. But I think it might help me.

Apr 7 2021 Day 63 Ruth 3:1–4:22

Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth (Matthew 1:5)



In two days we read through the book of Ruth, a sweet and sentimental letter of a widowed daughter-in-law’s love and devotion to her widowed mother-in-law. Ruth agrees to follow Naomi, and for Naomi’s God to be her God. In itself, it’s a wonderful story of a family’s love, of God’s call and of a woman’s response. And nothing happens in isolation, and this story isn’t just a one-off filial love story.

Through Ruth’s journey and marriage to Boaz, she has a son who has a son, whose son is King David. Her little four chapter story is critical enough that she becomes one of a handful of women named in the lineage of Jesus at the beginning of the book of Matthew. If this little story hadn’t happened, Jesus’ lineage would be all messed up. Although I’m not a theorist, I think it’s an example of the chaos theory, where a butterfly beating its wings in the Amazon could create a tornado in Texas. Small things have big consequences that we don’t see, can’t understand and are can’t predict. Ruth’s little sweet story resulted in her name being written in the lineage of Jesus. Of course there were many unnamed women in the lineage, but Ruth is called out.

We don’t know what will come about from our actions, from our opportunities to say Yes to God’s call in both big and small ways. You never know where your kindness will land, or if it will ever land. Maybe it continues to be paid forward for generations. Already, I can see bits of my mon’s kindness in my kids, or my dad’s wit. And this includes two kids who aren’t blood relatives.

What about the kindness shown a stranger or a colleague? Or when you choose to stop at this store on your way home, or not? We never know. But I believe God sees all our actions, all our days, all our choices and things happen because of what we do. I hope today to act in ways that result in good things, good people, good descendants somewhere down the road.

Apr 6 Day 62 Ruth 1:1–2:23



Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God.

As I opened up my PC this morning, and realized I got to start reading Ruth, I felt all warm, like settling down with a good book, fluffy blanket and purring cat. I couldn’t even tell you why I had that sense, but it was nice. The book begins with Naomi, her husband and two sons. The sons each marry women from a different tribe than theirs. Eventually, all of the men die – Naomi’s husband and her two sons. This leaves Naomi and her two daughters-in-law, from a different tribe than Naomi. Because a woman’s worth and livelihood is tied to her husbands, Naomi urges the daughters-in-law to return to their homeland to find husbands. One does, but Ruth offers a beautiful song in response, including the line “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” This is an incredible sacrifice for Ruth, and an honoring to Naomi. Naomi’s God was not the same god as Ruth’s. Naomi’s people were not the same people as Ruth’s. Ruth was stepping into something risky and unknown. Ruth was stepping into something presumably designed by God.

I think I like this story so much because it says something about God’s calling to us, to each of us, regardless of the destination. Some are called to ordained ministry, most are not. But all are called. Ruth was called to remain with her mother-in-law. Ruth may – or may not – have felt God’s call. But she said yes to something that was unknown and risky and right.

In my life I’ve had several experiences of God’s call, all that present and feel different. When I felt I was called to ordained ministry, it was like a persistence drum beat that got louder. I couldn’t ignore or outrun, despite my best attempts. When I finally send yes, it was like the logjam was unstuck, and I was free to float along the fast-moving, unnavigable waters.

Some years later, I had a sense that I should leave the world of city management, and move to a non-profit. It made no sense in my head, as the work would likely be harder, pay would be less, commute would be further. And yet, in my heart, I knew it was the right move. It absolutely was. And it was the first in a series of successful downwardly mobile careers moves for me, all that were right.

Most recently, I’ve been handed the task of caring for a seriously ill loved one. I have no sense of God’s call, no drumbeat, no heartfelt certitude. Rather, I have a sense of duty. Of course it’s what I’ll do. It’s what I have to do. Frequently, it’s a sense of begrudging duty. But I know it’s right.

The reflection accompanying this reading is from Thomas Merton. He says something that resonates deeply with me, and my understanding of God’s call. He says, “I am obscurely convinced that there is a need in the world for something I can provide and that there is a need for me to provide it.” He admits that someone else could, and that God doesn’t actually need him, but God is asking him to do it. Yes.

Of course there’s a risk with this, a risk that I egotistically think that I am super special and chosen. And while I believe that’s true, it’s because of God’s grace, not because of a need to feed my ego.

That small risk aside, I think we are each called to do and be things by God. Some are big asks, and some are small. Some are visible and some are unknown. Some will change the world, and .. Actually, all will change the world, because ‘thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.’.

Apr Day 61 Judges 17:1–21:25

In those days there was no king in Israel; all the people did what was right in their own eyes.

This morning, I concluded the reading of Judges. And I’m actually pleased with that accomplishment. Today’s four chapters are a study in the despicable. Travelers are taken in by a kind man. Men in the area go to the kind man, demanding that he turn out the travelling men, so they can have their way with them. Um, no. The man responds that no, they can’t have his guests, but they can certainly have the woman who came with the men and his virgin daughter, so he turns out the women. Um, no. The villagers rape and abuse them all night, and actually kill the woman traveler. Um, no. So the leader of the travelers cuts her up into twelve pieces to send around to all of Israel. Um, no.

Then we move into a battle between the Benjaminites and the rest of Israel. The Benjaminites are permitted to sleigh 40,000 of the Israelites before finally God says the Israelites will whoop the Benjaminites. And so they do, routing their city and killing many. Now they’re sworn enemies so the Israelites who are included in the groups that battled swear that they will never marry a Benjaminite. But then, they feel bad because God has said that all twelve tribes will be prosperous, but whatever will they do for the Benjaminites who don’t have wives, since they can’t give their daughters? Of course, they recognize that there was one group that didn’t participate in the battle. So naturally, they go to that community and kill all the married couples and young men, and give the virgins to the Benjaminites can have wives, just not theirs. Um, no.

And the conclusion of this book from the Bible is that the people did not have a king, so they did whatever they thought was right.

I’m going to presume that in my world, the king is God. Is this what we’d do if we didn’t have God? Would we do what we think is right, and would it be this horrid? Certainly some would. But many would not. What about all of the loving, good hearted atheists, or mono-theists?

So if God is God of all, omnipowerful, omnipresent, than isn’t God the God of the atheists, mono-theists, and the ill-behaved Israelites of Judges? Maybe it’s not so much that they don’t have a king, but that they don’t acknowledge the king they already have, bidden or unbidden.

As opposed to presuming that bad behavior or denial of a God refutes the truth of God, I believe that it refutes the fallacy of an all-controlling God. God is always there and present and good and loving. We are not always aware or willing to follow. We need reminders, and guides. As a Christian, my guide is Jesus. The ancient Israelites relied on kings and judges, hoping those judges and kings were good, God-abiding people.

Since Jesus is not walking the earth these days, it behooves good God-abiding people to lead, and speak and teach and work and love. We have a king. We have always had a king. We will always have a king. We need to remember that, and more important, model it.

Apr 4 2021 Apr Day 60 Judges 13:1–16:31

So this morning, I read a section of Judges where Samson is born, given to God, doesn’t cut his hair, eventually falls in love with Delilah, in attempt to weaken and kill him she asks him three times about what makes him strong, and three times he lies, but he tells her on the fourth, she cuts his hair, he is taken out and his eyes are gouged out, and finally he decides to take down the pillars of a house, and killed about 3000 in a suicide mission.

But it’s Easter, and I’m visiting family, and that’s what I’m thinking about today.

We ended up at a Nigerian Episcopal church outside of Dallas, and it was spectacular. The music was clunky, the weather was windy, the bulletin was incomplete and the smiles were hidden behind masks. But it was a welcoming, loving time. After the service, we joined the women in the kitchen to spoon up fantastic rice, yams and spiced hen in to go containers. This was their variation on the regular after church feast with food, drums and dancing. Now, there are smiles, elbow bumps and to go boxes to remind these good folks of their homeland. My son’s girlfriend was born in West Africa, with ancestry from Sierra Leone and Nigeria. She said the food was spot on. Even the rice made me literally lick my lips; it was that good.

Our weekend was quick, arriving in Dallas on Friday and leaving shortly, Sunday afternoon. But it was just right. It gave us a break, a little time away. I was able to drop in on a few Oregon and Washington services from the big three days, AKA Triduum, (Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday). That is one of the benefits of our pandemic worship; we can gather from distances that geography makes too difficult, but technology makes easy.

We arrived on Good Friday, and after listening to some deeply emotive Good Friday music, I was so grateful to see my son. How could a mother stand what Mary had to go through? A sword will pierce your own side. I may try to arrange a quick visit around Easter; seeing him was that good.

I also realized that I deeply miss having a regular altar, especially during Holy Week. I like my work with the Bishop’s office, and I will spend some time figuring out how I can remain serving as an active deacon; it is that good.

Now, I’m waiting for my flight back home, sitting next to my husband, a little tired, but extremely grateful for a good weekend. Renewed and restored. Happy Easter everyone.

Apr 3 2021 Day 59 Judges 9:1–12:15



Go and cry to the gods whom you have chosen; let them deliver you in the time of your distress.



In this section of Judges, the people ware ruled by one judge after another. With names that I cannot recognize or pronounce, it’s hard to keep track of the good or not-so-good judges. This is especially true when all of the judges raze buildings, burn thousands of people, drop rocks and kill people, or kills their brothers. Some of these judges are deemed as good, while others are not, and from my 21st century place of privilege, they all sound pretty bad.

There is one hint when reading this as to which is deemed good. When God intervenes and assists in the judge’s decimation, I think it’s safe to say that the judge is good. When God intervenes and reinforces the people against the judge, the judge is not good. At least that’s how the author of this bit saw things. But truth be told, without those prompts, I could not tell. And even with the prompts, I’m not sure about the judges’ inherit goodness or badness. I think all I know for sure is how the author saw things. With all writing, that’s probably true.

In one particular time, the people have recognized that they’ve sinned, fallen away from God, and worshipped the Baals. They cry out to God, who agrees that they’ve sinned, and as a result sold them into the hand of the Philistines and Ammonites, who crushed them. The Israelites cry out to God, again requesting to be saved. God apparently was still angry because God’s response was to suggest that they cry out to the other gods. Let them deliver them if they’re in distress.

Hmm. At this part, I started humming a bit of the Messiah. Let him deliver him, if he delights in him. This is what the chief priests, scribes and elders say to Jesus as he’s hanging on the cross. So the good people, who believed they were working with and for the one true God repeat words that God said to the good people who believed they were working with and for the one true God years and years before.

For years, I’ve read the passion story. And for years, when I get to that part where the guards mock Jesus it seems so clear who are good characters and who are the bad. That part of my Christian narrative is written from the side of Jesus followers. And yet, the part about letting Jesus’ god save him comes from something that their tradition relays that God said to them, when they were following the wrong gods.

If this is the way their image of God interacted with their ancestors, it seems natural that this is how they’d respond to Jesus. They may have genuinely believed that they were only reiterating God’s sentiments. If you go around following the wrong gods, let those impotent gods deliver you.

Today is Holy Saturday, the day between Good Friday when Jesus is executed, and Easter when Jesus is risen. Today, we sit in the darkness, after the crush of Good Friday, before the light of the empty tomb. It’s a great day to reflect on the both/and nature of our faith. Eventually things are renewed, restored, resurrected. And things are also mocked, tortured and killed. The religious leaders mocked Jesus by saying ‘let Him rescue him, if He wants him’. And God said to the religious leaders, ‘let those gods deliver you, if you believe in them’.

I like and affirm one side of those dichotomous truths. I’d like to write off the vengeful God of the ancient Israelites as simply a function of image of those ancient Israelites. I’d like to skip over Good Friday, or at least not dwell on it.

And as best as I know, both are true. I don’t like it, but it’s probably true.

This morning I’m thinking about how to embrace the uncertainty and ambiguity of Holy Saturday. I’d like to sit with the discomfort of the parts of my faith that I don’t love. To think about Good Friday, and the vengeful God of Judges. To figure out where that part fits. I still believe that all stories are framed by the story teller. And I believe that our understanding of God changes more than God’s nature changes. But I think I’m generally too quick to jump to the light-giving parts of my faith. Today, I will sit in the dark with hope.