Day 302 Acts 13:1–15:21

While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off.


The Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me…”. I love these passages that relate to God’s calling us and the Spirit leading us. I absolutely believe God calls each of us to something specific, or more accurately many specific things. We just need to be paying attention.

The accompanying reflection for this section of Scripture is from Henri Nouwen, a Dutch priest and educator. He talks about how we all experience boredom, that sense that we’re not doing anything important. He suggests that faith is something that can help at those times. Faith can pull together various things in our life, and provide meaning, bringing the thousands of disparate parts together. He likens it to the people in a stadium who are holding big cards. Individually, their card doesn’t make sense. But when cued, the whole group stands up, flips over their card, and something bigger is made by all the individual parts.

He suggests that a mature faith can do the same, helping to bring together all of the parts together to provide meaning, where the individual parts didn’t. As he writes, “This new perspective is what we can call faith. It does not create new things but it adds a new dimension to the basic realities of life.”

It is in faith that we determine meaning and purpose and God’s calling. That faith is what Paul had, to allow himself to be sent hither and yon. Perhaps he didn’t understand the individual parts, but he had faith that they did have meaning.

In my tradition, Wednesday begins the season of Lent, a time before Easter where we are asked to make space to deepen that faith relationship. Some people make space by living more intentionally, praying more, exercising more. Others make space by removing things from life that are distractions – unnecessary eating or drinking. If done correctly, what people do doing Lent are done to help focus on God. Fasting on a particular day or fasting from particular foods is one common way. When the hunger pangs come, or you pass by the sweet shop, it’s one way to use the body’s natural cues to remember God.

Probably 20 years ago, I spoke with a spiritual leader about Lent. I asked what I should do, or give up. His suggestion was precisely what I needed and exactly what would be most difficult for me. He suggested that I should just sit in silence with God for 20 minutes a day. What?? I honestly told him it would be easier for me to give up air. I tried to follow his counsel with spotty results.

This morning, I’m thinking about this upcoming Lent. I am not sure what I will do to try to create and hold space, or to deepen that relationship with God. It is from that faith-driven connection that I will continue to hear God’s call, just like Paul.

Day 301 Acts 10:1–12:25

Then Peter began to speak to them: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.

Peter has seen a vision, of a large sheet-like thing floating down by its four corners, accompanied by all sorts of beasts of prey, reptiles and birds. Peter is commanded to eat, and responds that he will not eat the profane. The response is that what God has made clean, he must not call unclean. This happens three times, perhaps to assure sure Peter gets the point. He’s then summoned by a centurion named Cornelius. While a gentile, Cornelius and his family are firm believers. Where formerly their gentile status might deem them unclean, Peter’s vision tells him otherwise. Peter talks to the gathered people about Christ, and the Holy Spirit lights upon them and they’re all baptized.

This is a key pivot in the world of Christianity. Where before it had been seen and practiced as a religion for the chosen, Peter’s vision and Cornelius’ action, both inspired by God, break open that Good News to every nation.

I live in a small community outside Pittsburgh that, at its height, was the home to tens of thousands of people supported by the steel mill, 6 blocks from my home. Originally, most of those people were Eastern European immigrants. Between their perceived profane status, and the grime thrown up by the steel mill, the mill owners created a town up the hill. It was created to provide distance and distinction between the supervisors and managers, and the grimy foreigners who lived down the hill.

Somewhere along the way, African Americans moved into the former immigrant grimy town. In 2019, Homestead was 60% African American, with a median household income of $28,000. Up the hill, Munhall is 81% Caucasian with a median household income of $51,000. The divisions continue.

Just today, I read on social media someone from Munhall complaining about crime coming “up the hill”. That the crime and kids running around unsupervised in Homestead was creeping up. In less than 24 hours, nearly 100 people chimed in, supporting the classist and racist comments. True, the uphill community was built by the mill to provide separation from the ugliness of the poverty created by the mill. And it is true that I knew the wildly different racial and economic composition of the two communities, within walking distance of my home. But I guess I was unprepared for the lingering division perceived – the clean and the profane.

What God has made cannot be called unclean.

As someone who lives down the hill, surrounded by the poverty and grime, I’m wondering what I can do to inch towards that pivot that Peter made, where God’s reign and love and mercy are not reserved for the select.

Feb 25 2022 Day 300 Acts 8:1–9:43

But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen ..”



Saul has been blinded by the flash of light, and he’s been blind for three days. He has a vision that a man named Ananias will give him his sight. Meanwhile, Ananias hears from God that he’s to go find Saul and give him his sight. Saul has been pretty rotten to the early Christians, searching them out and imprisoning them. He even held the coats of the men who stoned Stephen to death. Ananias isn’t so sure about helping Saul. But God assures him that yes, Saul is an instrument God has chosen to spread the good news to the gentiles. And so Ananias goes.

I can absolutely understand Ananias’ trepidation. If this vision is wrong, Saul could just as easily imprison him too, or worse. But he goes. That shows some faith in God’s goodness and clarity of message.

This morning, I’m thinking about God using Saul as an instrument. Saul who’d used his power and position to persecute Christians. Saul who was born a gentile. God choses Saul to build up Christianity and to go to the gentiles. God choses Saul despite his massive shortcomings.

But perhaps it’s not despite his massive shortcomings, but precisely because of his massive shortcomings, that God choses Saul.

We all have massive shortcomings. When we are honest about them, and bring them to God, God can use them, God can choose us. God can transform and renew the parts of us that had been seen as shortcomings, and use to God’s good.

I have a colleague who served in intelligence in Viet Nam. By his own account, he saw and perpetrated evil. Upon his discharge, he went to seminary and became a priest. For years, he fought this dark side of himself, tucking it away as if it could somehow be hidden from God. Eventually, a spiritual leader suggested to him that that was equally a part of him as the bright shiny parts he highlighted. He brought his whole self to God, including the dark bits. God did take those parts and transform them, and he became an authority on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, war, and spirituality. He counseled many, and spoke out on the intersection of the three. God was waiting to choose him, and to use all of him for God’s good. He just needed to bring his whole self to God.

I definitely have some traits and habits that have not served me as well as others. Today, I want to be mindful of bringing my whole self to God, so God can choose me as an instrument for God’s good. All of me.

Feb 24 2022 Day 299 Acts 5:17–7:60

[I]f this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them..

Despite man-made directives to the contrary, the apostles are preaching and teaching in Jesus’ name. The authorities are fed up and had them jailed. But an angel freed them and directed them to the Temple to again proclaim the Good News. When the authorities went to fetch them from the prison, they found the prison empty and the apostles in the square again proclaiming. Once again, they were brought in for questioning, and the apostles continued their story of Good News, in the face of the clearly angry authorities. The leaders couldn’t believe the audacity of these apostles, and wanted to kill them.

But Gamaliel, a wise Pharisee, suggested they hold off. He reminded the authorities that several other movements had come and gone, under the leadership of men who had some following, but after a while, it fizzled out and the movement died out. He suggested that if these apostles were doing things of human origin, it would fail.

But in one of my favorite quips, he also said that if it is of God, the movement won’t be able to be overthrown. If it is of God….

I was offered this counsel by a wise colleague at a time when something was pretty unclear. The response he offered was that ‘if it is of God, it will work out’. That eased all of my concerns, as I absolutely knew that to be the Truth.

How much simpler my life would be if I could remember that, every day, with every trial. If it is of God, it will work out. Despite my best mortal attempts, sometimes things I work hard for don’t work out, and that makes me frustrated and angry and questioning. And how much easier to remember that if it is of God, it will work out. I am still called to do my best with my God-given gifts and talents. And sometimes what I imagine to be the right course isn’t. I’m again at a place where there are a lot of differing options and possibilities. I’m toying with different scenarios, and I definitely need to remember that if it is of God, it will work out.

Feb 23 2022 Day 298 Acts 3:1–5:16

You did not lie to us but to God!



Ananias and his wife Sapphira were living in a time when all assets were pooled, and people were cared for from the common till.

They’d sold their property and brough some of the money in for the common good, but they’d also kept some of it back for themselves. When asked about the transaction and their contribution, Ananias responded that he’d sold the land and donated all the money. But it’s the lie that caused the trouble. Peter, who’d collected their money exclaimed that they’d lied not to Peter or the community, but to God. At that, Ananias dropped dead. His wife, not knowing what had happened to Ananias came before Peter and retold the same false story, that all of the money had been given. She too was chastised, and dropped dead.

Other than a few cloistered communities, I’m not sure this form of common property is something that has survived human greed or modern capitalism. Ananias and his wife were some of the first testers of this. I don’t know if their lie came from shame, fear, or greed. But whatever it was, has been the undoing of our world’s care of each other.

I am not suggesting that we should be living in a socialist society, with all assets pooled. But I do think that we should consider the motives of Ananias, and more importantly, ourselves. What makes us revert to the toddler response of “mine”?

I suppose my driving motive is one of scarcity. I can’t give more, because I don’t want to be without. Maybe being more generous with myself, it’s a sense of the potential I might need more resources and if I give them away, I won’t have them. What if my sick loved one needs something costly?

Perhaps God doesn’t need a common till. God isn’t asking me to give away all of my assets. But I do believe God is asking us all to share as much as we possibly can, because there are others who live with real scarcity, rather than my imagined scarcity. Or there are those who currently need something costly, as opposed to my potential needs. This morning, I’m thinking about what God seeks when it comes to the resources of our time, talent and treasure. God wants us to care for our neighbors, and to share generously. I don’t believe God wants me to share beyond what I reasonably can, but I do believe I’m called to ruthlessly examine what I share and why, and be honest with myself. More important, be honest with God. Sometimes, I don’t share because I’m scared of scarcity. That’s way better to admit than to suggest I’ve shared all I can. The only way to know the difference is to think and pray.

Home update - February 2022

It has been a while before any updates. That's definitely not because we haven't been busy.  Quite the contrary. 

Dining Room

We painted the dining room, and patched and painted the ceiling.  The problem is that shortly after finishing the dining room painting, we started in the kitchen. The dining room became the de facto kitchen, complete with a working refrigerator, air fryer, coffee pot, and converting the sideboard to a dish cabinet. 

In addition, it's become the storage place for all of the things we've yet to put in the kitchen, including cabinets, a dishwasher and range. So the pictures are a little underwhelming, chock full of kitchen food prep materials, as well as kitchen building materials.  But peeking around and behind the clutter, is our beautiful dining room.  

Mantle, complete with two leaded glass containers. 

Dishwasher in dining room, waiting... 

Sideboard with coffee maker, air fryer, cabinet doors  and drywall 
leaning against, plus every dining room needs a refrigerator.

Meanwhile the kitchen is progressing.  Here are some 'before' pics. 

This is the north wall that will like an accent wall, with 
dark stained cabinets, exposed brick (behind the stove above)
and a new broom closet in the cut-out to the right of the stove. 

Since those photos, we have:

• pulled all of the pink and brown plastic tiles off the walls
• pulled up all of the pink and white floor tiles
• pulled out all of the brown mental cabinets, except the one the sink is sitting on
• Using a plaster chisel, I removed all of the plaster to expose a brick chimney that runs up through the room. We'll leave it exposed. 
• Took off all of the built-in cabinet doors and drawers, stripped and stained them a dark brown. They'll look great with the antique copper pulls.
• Went to the construction re-sale store and bought a 90" x 24" door, that I stripped and stained to match the built in cabinets. We built a frame for the door, so the north wall of the kitchen will include the built in cabinets, the exposed brick chimney and a new broom closet, with a matching tall door.
• filled up 4 waste management bags, nearly 12 cubic yards of junk

Once we were back to the studs, we

• cut and installed insulation on the walls (where there had been none) and ceiling to reduce the noise between floors. 
• put a plastic roofing membrane down on the wood floor. There were holes and cracks, and we could see into the basement. But the floor wasn't level so we needed to put some self-leveling stuff on, without it all running into the basement
• poured in the self-leveler, which is basically like quick setting thin concrete. It does the job!
• Purchased and installed subfloor, over the newly level floor
• added new electrical wipres for ceiling lights, rather than the single garage-style fluorescent fixture
• cut and fit drywall for the ceiling, and now working on the walls. 

Once the drywall is in, we'll:

• prime all of the drywall
• paint the ceiling white and the walls a dark sage-green
• Paint the north accent wall a darker sage green, and install the cabinet doors and new closet door
• Install the other three pendant lights over an island which will contain the range.
• install cork-backed floating floor, that looks like distressed wood
• install cabinets (that are all in boxes in dining room)
• Call to have the countertops measured

Pouring in the self-leveler 

Some of the demo debris

Copper pulls and handles

Beginning to pull of the tiles and plaster
to uncover the brick chimney

Exposed chimney. We'll keep the former pipe cut outs.
It's all part of the historical charm...

Drywall coimng along

     

    

Drywall in kitchen and new flat led lights and places 
for new pendents

Meanwhile...

As the big work is progressing in the kitchen, there's a hallway from the kitchen to the bedroom, and another from the dining room to the kitchen. They were both in crummy shape, so while my husband was measuring sheet rock, I started working on the two forgotten hallways. If we had gotten the kitchen done, it would be depressing to enter it through the icky halls so it was important to me. 

Each of these halls required the following:

• stripping wallpaper off plaster walls
• washing plaster walls and painted floor, door and window trim
• filling cracks and holes in walls and ceiling
• Removing door hardware to get grime and paint off
• scuff sanding the painted trim
• priming all surfaces
• painting and reinstalling hardware

After photo - close up of the trim and hallway color for the hall 
into the bedroom

Close up of door frame with lots of places
to sand and smooth from years of 
locks, and an old switch box in the plaster

Hole in plaster where box was removed

Cutting out the plaster

Hole in plaster in hallway between kitchen and 
dining room. Using a multi-tool, I cut a rectangle
out of the plaster, and an equal sized piece 
of drywall and patched it. 

Doors with stripping agent on them, and 
a little plastic wrap to keep them 
from drying out

Stay tuned, and I'll try to provide updates more frequently, so it's not an epic read. Note to self, it doesn't have to look 'finished' to share.  

Now, off to spackle.   

 

Day 297 Acts 1:1–2:47

And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.



The people were gathered for the Hebrew festival of gathering the wheat, known in that time as Pentecost. Once gathered, they heard this sound, that sounded like a violent wind. I’m intrigued by the notion that the sound was described as a violent wind. Not a strong wind, or a powerful wind. To suggest that the wind sounded violent implies some sense of dread. I know that feeling.

Living in the heavily wooded Northwest, I recall the sound of violent wind and being very fearful. We were surrounded by tall evergreens, which are shallow-rooted by nature. Toppled trees were always a risk from the late winter violent winds. Hearing the wind howl against the house and through the trees made you hold your breath waiting for any creaking or cracking after. When silence was the resulting sound, we took a collective grateful exhale.

Not only was the sound a violent wind, but then divided tongues as of fire descended on all of them, with a fiery tongue resting on each. If the violent wind didn’t strike fear, I’d think that would.

Finally, they all started speaking in languages that each other understood. Um, frightening. Maybe, but maybe not.

This is a people who believed in and knew their Scripture. One of the sadder stories for their once-united community was the drama at the Tower of Babel. After their salvation from the great flood (of Noah’s fame), the united people wrongly decided to build a tower tall enough to reach heaven. They built and built, and eventually ticked off God who had already said that they couldn’t and shouldn’t try with humanly means to reach the Holy. As a result of their pride and stubbornness, God struck them and made them speak different languages so all of a sudden they could not understand each other, and as a result, could not remain a united single people of God.

Now, with the fiery tongues and violent wind, they were once again able to understand each other. The Holy Spirit had effectively undone the division created by their pride. Granted, the ability to understand and speak in each other’s languages didn’t last forever, but they saw what the Sprit could do.

This morning, I’m thinking about how the Spirit is breaking down the barriers that divide, and what I might do to help that unity. I live in a divided community – racially, economically, beliefs, politics, status. I suspect if we looked around, we all do. What can I do, through the power of the violent winds and fiery tongues, to help bring people together? How can the have’s share with the have-not’s? How can people of differing Christian faith traditions come together, knowing we share one God, and are all blown about by the same violent wind? Why aren’t we at least a little frightened by the power of the Spirit? At least frightened enough to work together.

Today, I’m going to think about one specific thing I might do. I think it will involve gathering a better understanding of the faith communities around me. Maybe we can gather, and realize that at least for that moment, the power of the Spirit has allowed us to speak and clearly understand each other.

Feb 20 2022 Day 296 John 20:1–21:35

But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”



Poor Thomas. He’s commonly referred to as ‘doubting Thomas’, in a pejorative way. Without the benefit of thousands of years, and millions of believers, I too would need to see the mark of the nails in his hands. But I do have the luxury of all of the believers and prophets and doubters and time and space, all of which allow me to be a person of faith without the luxury of seeing the marks with my own eyes.

As Jesus continues to Thomas, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Jesus was talking to us. We have come to believe, against all common sense and reason.

This morning, I finished reading the Gospel of John. I’ve always had a doubting Thomas relationship with John’s writing. I haven’t always understood his poetic language, his imagery or allegories. And I still don’t. But I have a much deeper appreciation for what John brings to the Gospels.

The preceding three narratives are far more ground in the notion of Jesus-fully-human, where John focuses more on Jesus-fully-divine. My whole countenance is fully-human, my outlook and understanding of life is sensory and cognitive, so I’ve more easily digested Matthew, Mark and Luke.

Of course the truth is that Jesus is mysteriously both, and in my mortal tendency to take the easier path, I’ve not spent as much time contemplating on Jesus-fully-divine. More important, I’ve not spent time thinking about what Jesus-fully-divine means to me in my cognitive, sensory world.

When reading John, I repeatedly came to points where I didn’t necessarily understand what John was saying, or what he was saying about Jesus. But whether it’s like Peter sticking with Jesus even as he denies him, or Thomas needing concrete proof, Jesus’ divinity kept drawing the disciples back. Jesus stood in front of Mary Magdalene and she did not recognize him. And by simply saying her name, she does. My head doesn’t understand these things.

But slowly, I think my heart is understanding more. Jesus-fully-human is someone I can relate to, see and understand. Jesus-fully-divine is someone I am drawn to, who knows my name, who loves me despite my denials, who’s willing to sit with my need for proof. I don’t understand it, but I am deeply grateful for a deepening understanding of that side of Jesus.

To be clear, it’s not that I didn’t understand that God is divine; God is the definition of divine. But to follow a wise human teacher like Jesus is easy-ish for my head. To follow a wise divine lover like Jesus is what draws me back, again and again.

This morning, I’m thinking about my new-found appreciation for John’s insistence that we wrestle and acknowledge Jesus’ fully divine nature. Thank you, John.

Feb 19 2022 Day 295 John 18:1–19:42

Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They asked him, “You are not also one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.”



Like the ending of “To Kill a Mockingbird”, I read this part of scripture and hope things will go differently, every time. It has to. No, Peter, not again. Like the ending of “To Kill a Mockingbird”, the terrible next steps are taken.

The accompanying commentary this morning is from Walter Wangerin, Jr. He picks this particular denial as the focus of his thoughts, and I’m grateful for his analysis because I’d never stopped at this point. This denial of Peter’s, is his second. He’s denied Jesus once, and Jesus had told Peter he’d do it three times, so here Peter sits between his first and final.

Wangerin posits that Peter is torn; “a tremendous selfless love for Jesus keeps him there, while a consuming self-interest keeps him lying.” Peter, and me. We’re all torn by this as Christ-followers. By acts and omissions, by things we do and things done in our name, we are consumed by self-interests that result in our denial of Jesus. And yet, we continue day after day to stick by Jesus’ side, doing our best to love and follow.

This reminds me of diets. Bear with me here. I’ve tried a multitude of diets, some for health and some for perceived self-image. I start strong, but my strength fades, and I cheat or modify. I live in this half-committed world until finally, I realize I’m not really dieting, or that it’s not really working, and I walk away. I give up, acknowledging that I cannot do it. I, like Peter am stuck between wanting to do right, and consistently doing wrong.

But unlike Peter, I walk away once I figure out it’s not a winning proposition. Like Peter, I have not walked away from Christ. It’s not that I am any more ‘successful’ in my Christ-following than I am in my ill-fated body-altering diets. Jesus’ words to Peter about the cock’s crow serve as a outward and visible sign that Jesus is with Peter even in that torment, even as he’s denying Jesus again. Jesus never leaves Peter. And Jesus never leaves me. Weekly, I can participate in Jesus’ gathered feast. Daily, I see Jesus in people I know, as well as strangers. Second by second, I sense God’s spirit in me.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, I am utterly compelled by something about Jesus. If this were not so, I’d have walked away like the high school grapefruit diet.

Feb 18 2022 Day 294 John 15:1–17:26

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.



If you read the Gospel of John, and you read past the religious exclusivism, you get the clear message that it’s all about love. The presiding bishop in my tradition, Michael Curry says, if it’s not about love, it’s not about God. That pretty much sums up Christianity.

We learned about what the love looks like first hand from God-made-man, Jesus Christ. Through the stories he told and the stories about him, we understand what God means when God asks us to love, what it looks like between humans. It’s healing the leper, feeding the hungry, comforting the lonely. We have tangible, actionable steps we can take to show the love, to be the love. Before Jesus, the best we had was one human’s best interpretation of what it meant, and frequently, they only got part of it right.

I’m not suggesting the prophets and people of God before Jesus were any less people of God. But in fact, they were people, with people-problems and people-limitations. Jesus was God, so when Jesus shows and tells us about love, it’s absent the possible miscommunication that occurs when the message is translated first. Remember the kids game, Telephone? Sometimes, the message at the end of the chain was different than when it started. That’s what I liken God’s messages pre-Christ to. Sometimes lost in translation. Or at least we may never know because of the human error factor.

True, the gospel of John was written by a human, and the human error factor is visible in some of John’s uglier messages. But if John reports on what Jesus said or did, it’s absent the iterations that happened to earlier prophets. At least it’s only a second-hand story, rather than third, fourth or fifth hand stories.

Simple. Not easy, but easy to remember. Love God. Love your neighbor. That’s all.

Feb 17 Day 293 John 13:1–14:31

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.




Who knew that that vacation bible school song was so fundamentally core as Christians? They will know we are Christians by our love, by our love. So simple. So not easy.

Everyone will know we are disciples, if we but love. So what’s gone so horribly wrong in the world? With Christians fighting Christians. Or with distrust, bad intentions, and malice in their hearts.

And what can we do to change it? When I’m at my best, I hope people can know I’m a disciple by my love for others. When I’m at my best, I’m good. But I’m not always at my best. In fact, I’m more often than not, not at my best. My shining best moments are measured by weeks, not by days or hours. If I have a best moment where I can be identified as a disciple because of my love, that’s great. But if it’s followed by a long time where my actions don’t expose me as a follower of Christ, that’s not so great.

I certainly can’t be my best all of the time; there’s something singular about ‘best’, marking it distinct from all of the other times. Maybe we need to figure out how to have the mediocre, average, or even crummy times be equally infused with love, so even on a bad day, someone can know I’m a Christian by my love.

We don’t need to be outwardly emotive of love all of the time; we couldn’t sustain that. But perhaps I can approach every interaction, every person remembering that they are a beloved child of God, and the love can show forth in my eyes. Maybe I can create prompts throughout the day to remind me to get the love back in my hands, so that my actions are infused with love.

Earlier in this story, we read “Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” On this, Jesus’ last supper, Jesus loved his disciples to the end. Through their betrayal of Jesus, their denial of Jesus, their abandonment of Jesus. I have the honor of reading this passage every year as we celebrate the last supper and Jesus washing the disciple’s feet. This sentence, he loved them to the end, always chokes me up. I can imagine Jesus’ loving, sad smile, and loving, knowing eyes, as he sups with his friends, and washes their feet. He loved them to the end.

Maybe that’s what we need. It’s not so much the ‘best moments’ that need to be infused with love. It’s more that our souls need to be infused with love. We need to love always, love everyone. Then even if we’re doing something mundane like sharing dinner, or tidying up before dinner, people can see the love. Then they will know we are Christians by our love.

Feb 16 2022 Day 292 John 11:1–12:50

[T]hey loved human glory more than the glory that comes from God.

Jesus is talking about how Isaiah prophesied about Jesus, and many people including the leaders believed Isaiah. But because the Pharisees didn’t believe, they believers didn’t confess what they believed. The reason? They loved human glory more than the glory that comes from God. Ouch.

So these were believers, so they got part of the equation right. But out of fear from human criticism, they didn’t profess or confess what they believed.

Here we sit thousands of years later and I fear this pattern persists. We can believe whole-heartedly at worship, and then when we leave the safety of like-minded believers, we clam up. Oh, to be sure each of us takes our faith into the world in some small way. But when the going gets tough, I wonder what I’d do.

I recently moved from a corner of the US with a preponderance of people who’d respond ‘none’ to the question about religion on demographic forms. One city I lived was known for its uber-welcoming and accommodating vibe. Except the one thing I experienced that wasn’t always welcome was organized religion. I was frequently uncomfortable walking around in clerical shirts.

The other thing the community was not welcoming about was the military. My son was in the National Guard and in the neighboring city, there were frequently comments of ‘Thanks for your service’, or offers of people getting the doors. Not so in our community.

It’s not so much that I sought glory, but I certainly was affected by the scorn. My light, outside of church, didn’t shine quite as bright.

I know that God’s glory is far more valuable, and yet…. How do we disregard human glory? How do we, as believers similar to those in Jesus’ time, believe and profess for God’s glory, regardless of whether it results in human glory or scorn?

I’m not sure of the answer, but I’m glad to have spotted this interesting challenge as Jesus talked about the people who had faith but couldn’t profess.

Feb 13 2022 Day 291 John 9:1–10:42

Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”



This is one of the horrible theologies that I’ve heard, since becoming the caregiver of someone with a significant brain disease. What did they do to deserve this? Was it drugs? Maybe it was the sins of their mother! She had a sordid past, and certainly sinned. Or maybe it was a sin in their upbringing?

As someone involved in the upbringing of my loved one, I did worry that it was something we’d done, or not done – things known and unknown. Maybe it’s a sin of a lack of faith. Anyone who’s been through any sort of crisis knows this line of thinking, either because it’s gone through their own head or because others have asked implicating questions.

Neither this man nor his parents sinned. This I’ve understood and held firmly to. But I have struggled with the next part – that God’s works might be revealed in him. Did God make this man blind just so God’s works might be revealed? In this story, Jesus made the blind man see. God’s works were revealed. But what about for my loved one? Or for all of the other people with illness, death, or other crises? If they’re not healed, resurrected, or crisis diverted, where’s God’s works then?

Again, I’m grateful for the accompanying reflection. Brennan Manning writes about ‘ruthless trust’, where we hold on to a trust in God, against all common sense.

He writes “The enormous difficulty of pain, suffering, and evil remains, heartache lingers, and there are certain wounds of the spirit that will never close. . . . However, a fleeting, incomplete glimpse of God’s back—the obscure yet real, penetrating, and transforming experience of his incomparable glory—awakens a dormant trust”

Perhaps God’s glory revealed is that with only a glimpse of God’s back, we are given enough mercy to continue to trust, continue to have faith.

This morning, I’m thinking about the many ways God’s glory is revealed, and how it is revealed through the ‘miasma of pain, suffering and evil’ we live in. God’s glory isn’t always the quick answer of the removal of the pain or suffering, but it’s always there. I just need to be watching.

Feb 12 2022 Day 290 John 7:10–8:58

And you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.



To be free is something we ruggedly individualistic Americans want to be, yearn to be. We are a nation born from this desire to be free. And somehow, we’ve confined the idea of freedom to what it isn’t. We aren’t required to pay taxes to another country. We aren’t required to have a particular religion. We aren’t required to have someone else tell us when and where to gather or what to say. We are free from things. We are free from the things we thing are the greatest constraints on our true selves.

But what if the greatest thing that holds us back from our true selves isn’t an external rule or those things we bump against when we’re told No.

What if the greatest thing that holds us back from being the people God wants us to be is internal? What if it’s our own selfishness, or self-centeredness?

This is what Dietrich Bonhoeffer suggests, in regard to this passage. He writes that the freedom we gain from knowing and following Jesus frees me ‘to be free from myself in order to be free for others’.

It’s when we get wrapped up in our own importance, our own narrative that we cannot see others around us and we cannot care for God’s creation as we ought. He writes, “It directs my attention, bent in on myself, to what is beyond and shows me the other person. And, as it does this, I experience the love and the grace of God.” Thank you, Dietrich.

I must admit that when I’ve read this passage before, I get a vision of someone on a mountain top, delighting in their freedom from persecution, or prison, or debt. I wasn’t sure how following Jesus would make me free from debt, or illness.

This morning, I’m thinking about all of the external things I’d like to be freed from, and how much more important it is to be freed from my own misconceptions and expectations. I’m thinking about my loved one with the serious brain disorder. I would really like to have them be freed from the illness. I’d like for me to not have to take two huge pills to them twice a day, or to take them for a their painful long acting monthly shot. There’s a lot I’d like to be freed from, that is beyond me. As it turns out, my years of living with this illness and concurrent prayers haven’t made me free from any of those things.

But if I think about my self, and my thoughts, I can see that prayer and following Jesus has actually made me more free. Perhaps not entirely but more so. When our loved one is in crisis and we have unwanted contacts with the police, jail, or hospitals, those used to create a lot of angst and not a lot of sleep. Maybe we’re getting better at this, but I think it has more to do with a certain peace that comes from praying for my freedom from my unhelpful thoughts and worries.

Without even knowing it, I viscerally was experiencing what Bonhoeffer was suggesting. Following Jesus and his truth frees me. If I can feel a sense of that freedom in the midst of my loved one’s illness, I suspect I can feel it in lots of other circumstances. As long as I remember that it’s me who needs freeing.

Feb 10 2022 Day 289 John 6:22–7:9

Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day.



Here’s where I get tripped up theologically. At the same time, I remember the context of John, a persecuted group desperately trying to keep themselves safe from those who were persecuting them. They were tortured and executed, and John’s language is exclusionary and protectionist because of it. John was written after the preceding three gospels, which contain many similarities. Some thing John was written 100 years later. In context, that would be like me writing about the roaring ‘20’s, with authority, without access to a library or the internet.

I am not suggesting that John’s not a true Gospel. But it is largely the source of the criticisms of anti-Semitism and religious exclusivism. Given the context and later date of the writing, I am not sure those two sub-plots are as timeless as the parts about God’s only son, and love. Now that I’ve proven my heretical nature or ignorance, I’ll continue.

The last day. That could be some point in the future when Jesus returns and we have some sort of rapture. I don’t know if this will happen, but if it happens in my lifetime, I hope I’m raised up at that moment. If it doesn’t happen in my lifetime, as it hasn’t happened believers since Jesus’ time, I still won’t know what it means, and whether there will be a communal last day.

Another interpretation is that the last day occurs on the day of our last mortal breath. We each have a literal last day. I don’t know what will happen on that day, but I hope that I am lifted up and meet Jesus. And other than the occasional story or book about it, we don’t really know what happens on anyone else’s last day. I just have to have faith that it will be a good day.

And if the last day is when we meet Jesus, there is a third interpretation, and it’s that saves us in case the one preceding two are actually accurate. In our lives, in our world, we have the opportunity to meet and see and serve Jesus dozens of times a day. I believe Jesus is in every person I meet (Christian or not), and that I’m called to serve them. If this is true, today is the day I will be lifted up and meet Jesus. Yesterday was the day. Tomorrow is the day. Every moment is the last day, and every moment I can be lifted up.

And if I behave like that’s true, when my life comes to an end or when the collective rapture happens, I believe I’ll have another last day, be lifted up, and meet Jesus all over again.

Feb 9 2022 Day 288 John 5:1–6:21

You have never heard his voice or seen his form, and you do not have his word abiding in you, because you do not believe him whom he has sent.



Jesus is talking to the people after healing a man on the Sabbath. He’s explaining that they’ve never seen or heard God. I’ve never seen or heard God. Few of us have really seen or heard God. God’s message, or God’s presence, but we’ve not seen God. Jesus continues with the people that because they don’t believe Jesus, they don’t have God’s word abiding in them.

The challenge for me is that although I believe in Jesus and what he said, I’ve never seen or heard Jesus either. The people back then had the benefit of seeing a human being, hearing a human being. And some believed while others did not.

Thousands of years later, we’re left with the same challenge as those first folks had; we have not seen or heard firsthand God the Father. And because Jesus’ mortal body was around for only around 30 years, we have not seen or heard firsthand God the Son.

The benefit I have is that I’ve read Jesus’ words, and I have God the Spirit indwelling in me. Normally, I’m a big fan of seeing firsthand whatever it is I’m supposed to believe, a more peaceful version of ‘trust but verify’. But I’m also incredibly compliant and believing of authority. I read God’s or Jesus’ words in Scripture and a big part of me is wondering whether it’s true; I can’t see or verify. But a bigger part of me trusts precisely because they’re God’s or Jesus’ words. I think my faith is strong in part because I trust authority. At least it’s easier for me to hold on to faith, than if I were a rebel at heart.

This morning I’m thinking about all of the modern-day rebels, those who distrust authority, and don’t have the benefit of seeing Jesus or God firsthand. How do we share God’s message in a way they’ll understand and adopt, without proof and without respect for ‘because I said so’?

Maybe this goes back to the kids’ bible song, ‘They will know we are Christians by our love, by our love’. If many people wouldn’t believe Jesus’ words, I’m unsure that they’ll believe my words. But my actions? They can see, and trust. We need to act more like Jesus if we want people to believe what he has to say. For the rest of the world, maybe it’s more like ‘Distrust first. But seeing is believing’.

Feb 8 2022 Day 287 John 4:1–54

 “Surely no one has brought him something to eat?”



Jesus has just had an interaction with the Samaritan woman at the well, offering her the water of eternal life. She leaves, renewed by Jesus’ prophecy and love. His disciples return and urge him to eat something. He responds that he has food they do not know about. They don’t understand what he’s talking about – my food is to do the will of Him who sent me. What? They respond, “Surely no one has brought him something to eat?” They are still dealing with Jesus as only fully-human, and forgetting the fully-divine.

Guilty. I would absolutely respond the same. Reading this gospel and Jesus’ responses, I absolutely would revert to connecting with Jesus in a way I understand. Maybe that says more about the way my quirky brain works, but I do think there’s some universal truth in this.

Jesus pushes the edges of our comfort and awareness. When we get too far from our comfort zone, we return to what’s most comfortable. It’s like bread dough. You work it and knead it and get it more pliable. But there comes a point when it stops being flexible, and becomes a hard dough ball. At that point, you need to let it rest, and then start again.

Maybe that’s the truth with us. We get pushed and stretched, and at some point, we become a solid blob of dough. Once that happens we cannot stretch until we rest again.

And maybe that’s where I need to pay attention. I reach that point with John’s writing, and I throw up my hands in frustration. I don’t understand. Maybe, I need to let it rest and try the same bit again when I’ve had a chance to soften up.

Maybe reading John isn’t everyone’s growing edge. Maybe it’s Jesus’ thoughts about money, or service, or worship, or the stranger, or love. I think it’s human nature to only be able to take so much before we either give up, or rest and return.

This morning, I’m thinking about ways I might recognize the point when I need to rest and then try again, rather than walking away.

Feb 7 2022 Day 286 John 2:13–3:36

And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.



Anyone who’s ever had a teenager, or anyone who’s ever been a teenager knows this is true. At times, people love the darkness rather than the light because their deeds are evil. In my teenage years, I was a pretty good kid, and there were times when I preferred my actions were kept in the dark. I knew they were not right actions, and I did not want them to come to light. These were not egregious actions, but I know that sense of wanting something to be kept in the dark.

Earlier in John’s gospel we read that darkness cannot overcome the light. I’d argue it cannot because darkness isn’t the presence of something, but rather the absence of something – the absence of light. Any light at all removes the darkness.

So what of this saying, that people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil? And what of the notion that God’s light is in all of us, however dim it might be? Maybe when people do evil deeds, they shield those actions from light, they create a shadow where the light cannot shine, throwing their actions into darkness.

Here's what I find interesting. If this is the case, you’d need to actively shield your actions from the light. It takes effort to do that. It’s in that action that we make our judgment. We actively choose to walk away from the light, or to hide our actions from the light, throwing them in darkness. We do this because we cannot bear the light on these actions we know are not good. We walk away. We actively shield. This morning, I’m thinking about how I might let God’s eternal light shine on all of me and all of the world. It’s already there, but we need to stop shielding it, or putting it under a bushel. It’s a more passive action for sure, to just let the light shine.

Feb 5 2022 Day 285 John 1:1–2:12

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.



In the beginning was the Word. And so begins the Gospel of John. John was a mystic, and his words look nothing like the preceding three. His Gospel was written at a time when his community was under siege, so it’s easy to see a pretty strong anti-Semitic bent to his writing. Caution number one. As a mystic, he also focuses largely on Jesus-fully-divine, where other Gospels seem to tell a story that tells us more about Jesus-fully-human, like Jesus’ birth narrative in Luke. For me, the concrete thinker, this is caution number two. I need to work really hard to wrap my head around this writing, and sometimes I can only get as far as admitting I believe it, but don’t understand it. My final thought about John comes from when I was preparing for my ordination competency exams. I knew I needed some tricks to better identify scripture. As a result, I came up with the idea that John’s Gospel focuses on three themes – water/baptism, love, and light/dark.

These two cautions and my study device are likely why I focused on this darkness and light passage. It doesn’t touch on any politics, it’s very concrete, and it supports my notion of the themes of John.

If you’re in complete darkness, it’s amazing how little light is needed to make it no longer dark. It might not be enough to make the space bright, but any amount of light, even a tiny match, makes it no longer dark. If you introduce light, any amount, it’s light. The reverse is not true. First of all, you can not introduce dark. Darkness isn’t a concrete thing that exists. Rather, it can only be defined as the absence of light. You can’t introduce darkness or bring a little darkness into an otherwise light space. Darkness only happens when light is removed, or shadowed.

God is the ultimate light. Any amount of God by definition removes the darkness. Jesus, as God-made-man, showed us what God’s darkness-removing presence means on earth. Jesus’ mere presence removed the darkness. When Jesus gathered apostles and disciples, he shared his light with them, and their mere presence removed the darkness. As Jesus disciples, our presence and action can remove some darkness. I’d also argue that all true God-worshippers, whether they call God Yahweh or Allah, they also share God’s light and remove darkness.

Darkness cannot overcome light, even a small match. Even a sole God-follower.

Feb 4 2022 Day 284 Luke 24:1–53

Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.



Jesus has died and risen, and he’s accompanying a few along the road to Emmaus, although they don’t recognize him. He tries to explain, by starting back with Moses to explain things about himself. He grounds himself first in the Hebrew Scriptures. The accompanying reflection is by N.T. Wright, who writes that Jesus explains himself rooted in the Hebrew Scriptures. Similarly the early Christian church began to understand Jesus by what was written in the Hebrew Scripture, as Jesus himself did.

How is my understanding of Jesus rooted in Hebrew Scripture or does his story just begin in the manger?

I must admit that I am nervous reading Hebrew Scripture and presuming that it’s all written about Jesus. There’s a part of that feels like the worst kind of appropriation. Beloved modern day Jewish children of God do not believe that Moses’s words were all pointing to Jesus. They are their words. How do I get to ascribe my understanding to what they meant all along, when I’m in a different culture, country, era?

When Jesus had come to save the oppressed people and said things about how would free them, many believed him to mean that he was going to kick the Romans to curb, and be their warrior hero. Their understanding of Jesus’ words did not make it so. Our understanding of Hebrew words does not make it so.

Now, having said that, I do believe that Jesus is God-made-man, and God made those words, and I believe that the prophets spoke of a messiah coming, and I believe that messiah is Jesus.

More than the Hebrew Scriptures clearing up my understanding of Jesus, I am far more comfortable and confident saying that my read of the Hebrew Scriptures clears up my understanding of one thing – of the Hebrew people’s understanding of God. Everything we read in Hebrew Scripture is written by a human being who cannot help but filter words through their world experience and understanding. Everything I write is filtered through my world experience and understanding.

Everything written tells you something about the event itself, and the writer. That’s what I take from the Hebrew Scripture. I understand more about what occurred, and I understand much more about the authors.

I understand what the writers and prophets understood about God. I believe their accounts, I’m less certain about their presumed motives of actions of God.

Where does this leave me? When I read any of the prophets’ accounts of God’s reactions of the people’s actions, there is always something to learn, about people’s actions and God. In the beginning was the Word, and Jesus is that Word. I don’t understand how, but I believe Jesus is imbued in the Hebrew Scriptures. And I am just very cautious to ascribe Jesus explanations to words written by people who didn’t and don’t believe Jesus was present.

This morning I’m thinking that I need a second cup of coffee. My brain is tired from all of this heavy thinking.

Feb 3 202 Day 283 Luke 23:1–56

A great number of the people followed him, and among them were women who were beating their breasts and wailing for him.

Jesus is being led to the cross. Just as it happened when his earthly life was beginning, people are gathering as his earthly life is ending. Jesus inspires us to gather. And so does misery.

I remember shortly after 9/11, I felt a greater sense of community than I had in a long time. Some neighborhood friends came over that night, bearing a small gift – homemade soap – just so we could be together. We could not solve anything. We had no answers. But there was something lovely about gathering in that pain. A few days later, my husband and I were trying to continue that sense of community, so we headed down to the lovely and small Afghani restaurant, to be with community. Apparently, we were not alone. There was a line down the block. People want to gather, to share their grief, and to be community.

Since that time, some of my most comforting memories are when friends and colleagues sit with me in moments of grief. Companionship is what we seek, especially when we grieve. We don’t need solutions. And looking at the root of the word companion, we want to share bread.

It’s interesting to me, because what I love and what I seek when I’ve grieving is generally not my first instinct when I join someone else who’s grieving. I’m the one who’s willing to kick around possible solutions, to work on a cure, or even to find ways to distract them. What I need to do is be comfortable enough with the unresolvable grief to just companion them. I’m not suggesting I don’t ever get it right, but that my instincts as a friend are not based on my desires when I’m grieving.

This morning, I’m thinking about ways to share bread with the grieving.