LENT 2020: Day 30

• Lent 2020: Day 30 Tuesday, March 31, 2020:
  Psalm 143; 2 Kings 4:18-37; Ephesians 2:1-10

“Modernity,” writes Catherine Pickstock, “less seeks to banish death, than to prise death and life apart in order to preserve life immune from death in pure sterility.”

And while not the intention, Pickstock argues that this leads to a culture of death.

“Ultimately,” observes Peter Leithart, “as 1-2 Kings shows, the culture of death is a culture of idolatry, the idol that Pascal called the ‘god of the philosophers.’”

This god, this idol, says Leithart, is a “‘watchmaker God’ who set the world in motion, then settled back on his throne — now an easy chair — to see how things would go.

Leithart describes the world of 2 Kings 4 as just such a culture of death: “death permeates the daily lives of the people of Israel.”

The chapter begins with creditors forcing a widow to see her sons for her debt. In our story, the Shunammite’s son “immediately dies from a head wound.” In the first verse following our story famine hits the land, and “Death is in the pot” when they find gourds and make stew.

As Leithart observes, “Israel is plagued with poisonous food, when there is food at all, and economic and social death stalk the land.”

That is a remarkably accurate description of our world.

As we cling to life, and as we call ourselves pro-life, we leave a trail of death all around, if even if we’re wealthy enough to not have to see it.

But we’re seeing it now, all across the globe.

And we’re waking up to the emptiness of the watchmaker god. Fortunately, scripture gives us a different God.

LENT 2020: Day 29

• Lent 2020: Day 29 Monday, March 30, 2020:
  Psalm 143; 1 Kings 17:17-24; Acts 20:7-12

“The good news of the Bible,” writes Richard Nelson, “is that God offers life in the midst of death.”

We live in the midst of death. More so today than ever before.

But the good news is that God offers life.

And today’s story of Elijah offers a glimpse of the possibility of human agency in bringing life.

Today’s reading is the third of three episodes in the chapter, over which Nelson says that “Elijah moves from passive to active.” 

The key point in our reading: “the LORD listens to him.” 

Not only that, but Elijah even calls God to account:
    LORD my God, have you actually done harm to the widow
    with whom I sojourn to put her son to death?

And then Elijah “stretched out over the child three times and called out to the LORD and said,
    LORD my God, let the life-breath, pray, of the child go back
    into him.

The narrator tells us what happens next: “And the LORD heeded Elijah’s voice, and the child’s life-breath went back into him, and he revived.”

The LORD heeded Elijah’s voice.

Incredible.

Our reading has no interest in explaining death. Why it happens and what God’s role is — that we don’t know.

All we know is that death happens.

And what the story tells us is that we have a role in bringing life in the midst of death.

LENT 2020: Fifth Sunday

• Sunday, March 29, 2020: Fifth Sunday in Lent
  Ezekiel 37.1-14; Psalm 130; Romans 8.6-11; John 11.1-45

     And the LORD said to me,
          Man, these bones are all the house of Israel.
          They say, ‘Our bones are dry and our hope is lost.
              We have been cut off.’
          Therefore prophesy and say to them,
              Thus said the Master, the LORD:
                    I am about to open your graves,
                    and I will bring you up, my people, from your graves
                    and bring you to Israel’s soil. …
                    And I will put my breath in you, and you shall live,
                    and I will set you on your soil.

The vision of the valley of the dried bones is the most famous in the book of Ezekiel. It’s strange, yet alluring, as skeletons are put back together by mere words, then animated by breath.

In many if not most churches, this vision will be understood as a prophecy about the resurrection of the dead. And that may very well be appropriate. Prophecy often has multiple fulfillments.

That said, Ezekiel was writing from exile — and it’s clear that he had the conquered nation of Israel, living in captivity in Babylon, in mind.

And he speaks with the language of (new) creation.

Today, globally, we are in our own exile of sorts. And the word of (new) creation is as relevant today as ever.

The LORD says to Ezekiel, “Man, can these bones live?”

Yes. We know the answer: These bones can indeed live. The exile will end, and there will be a new creation.

And we are learning now what the new creation should include:
    healthcare, income, and community.

May it be so.

Gungor, “Dry Bones”

(https://youtu.be/ioMRzpmnl7U)

   

Life is breaking out

It’s breaking out

It’s breaking out

LENT 2020: Day 28

• Lent 2020: Day 28 Saturday, March 28, 2020:
  Psalm 130; Ezekiel 36:8-15; Luke 24:44-53

     And you, O mountains of Israel,
          you shall put forth your branches
              and bear your fruit for my people Israel,
                    for soon shall they come.
    For here I am for you,
          and I will turn to you,
              and you shall be tilled and sown.
    And I will multiply humankind upon you,
          the whole house of Israel, all of it,
              and the towns shall be settled
              and the ruins shall be rebuilt.
    And I will multiply upon you man and beast,
          and they shall multiply and be fruitful,
              and I will settle you as you were before
          and do well by you more than in your beginnings,
              and you shall know that I am the LORD.

Today's lectionary reading from Ezekiel starts in verse 8, but looking back to the beginning of the chapter reveals “an interesting rhetorical switch,” observes Robert Alter.

In verse 1 God give the prophet this directive: “And you, man, prophesy to the mountains of Israel and say, Mountains of Israel, heed the word of the LORD.”

Ezekiel is writing from exile, in Babylon, and so the land is of special importance. “The mountains have been shorn of human population,” comments Alter, “by the devastating conquest. Now they will again abound with people.”

And the Hebrew is interesting here, as Ezekiel is explicitly using the language of creation: “The national restoration,” Alter writes, “is to be a second Genesis.”

As we sit in our own exiles, think about the new creation we can help usher in once we return to our lives.

LENT 2020: Day 27

• Lent 2020: Day 27 Friday, March 27, 2020:
  Psalm 130; Ezekiel 33:10-16; Revelation 11:15-19

     By my life, said the master, the LORD:
          I do not desire the death of the wicked
              but the turning back of the wicked from his way,
              that he may live.
          Turn back, turn back from your evil ways,
              for why should you die,
              O house of Israel?

When the prophets start talking like this, we get a little nervous, a little queasy even. 

We don’t think in terms of sin and punishment. 

And rightly so.

Far too many people have been harmed and abused, physically and emotionally and psychologically.

And so by no means should we claim that the coronavirus was sent by God to punish us for our sins. We must resist the temptation to do that. Resist even the temptation to flip the script, smugly blaming those who usually do the blaming.

But we would do well to think in terms of the impact our actions, as well as our inaction, have.

Simply put, our actions have consequences. We should always aim to do the right thing for the right reason, but even the best intentions don't guarantee good outcomes.

Lent is the time to examine our lives. 

Examine what you do.

     Examine why you do it.

          And examine the impact of what you do.

Then, go and do better.

Tidings of Comfort & Joy, No. 7

Tidings of Comfort & Joy, No. 7

Today's #songsofcomfort comes from Ben Gibbard. It's called "Life in Quarantine." 

 And our message of comfort today comes from St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.

"At our best," writes ALSAC CEO Rick Shadyac, "we look out for each other, especially the most vulnerable among us. We do a stranger a kind turn. We lead with our hearts."

Rick says they "went looking for acts of kindness - and found them everywhere." And so St. Jude has launched a new project: the Inspired By You blog.

Check it out!

I love "Ode to Joy." Beethoven's genius is revealed in all its splendor in his Ninth Symphony, which has been a source of inspiration across the globe in recent days.

Earlier this week, the Colorado Symphony came together virtually to #PlayOn. And this evening, the Rotterdams Philharmonisch Orkest did the same.

I'm not crying, you're crying!

Krista Tippett has been sharing some of her On Being podcasts that speak to this "unsettled moment." Today, she shared a conversation with writer Ross Gay, called "Tending Joy and Practicing Delight."

And it just struck me with chills.

"Joy," says Gay, "has nothing to do with ease." Rather, "joy has everything to do with the fact that we're all going to die."

When he said that, it stopped me in my tracks and made me pay attention.

He goes on to say that "we all have this common experience - many common experiences, but a really foundational one is that we are not here forever."

"And that's a joining," he says, then adds, "a 'joy-ning.'"

Later in their conversation, Tippett has Gay read from his book, The Book of Delight, from an essay called "Joy Is Such a Human Madness," that is just devastatingly beautiful.

I'll quote it at length.

“Among the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard anyone say came from my student Bethany, talking about her pedagogical aspirations or ethos, how she wanted to be as a teacher, and what she wanted her classrooms to be. She said, ‘What if we joined our wildernesses together?’ Sit with that for a minute. That the body, the life, might carry a wilderness, an unexplored territory, and that yours and mine might somewhere, somehow, meet. Might, even, join. 

And what if the wilderness — perhaps the densest wild in there — thickets, bogs, swamps, uncrossable ravines and rivers (have I made the metaphor clear?) — is our sorrow? Or, to use Smith’s term, the ‘intolerable.’ It astonishes me sometimes — no, often — how every person I get to know — everyone, regardless of everything, by which I mean everything — lives with some profound personal sorrow. Brother addicted. Mother murdered. Dad died in surgery. Rejected by their family. Cancer came back. Evicted. Fetus not okay. Everyone, regardless, always, of everything. Not to mention the existential sorrow we all might be afflicted with, which is that we, and what we love, will soon be annihilated. Which sounds more dramatic than it might. Let me just say dead. Is this, sorrow, of which our impending being no more might be the foundation, the great wilderness? 

Is sorrow the true wild? 

And if it is — and if we join them — your wild to mine — what’s that? 

For joining, too, is a kind of annihilation. 

What if we joined our sorrows, I’m saying. 

I’m saying: What if that is joy?”

That's deep. Sit with that for a while. And check out their entire conversation between Krista Tippett and Ross Gay here.

On a lighter note, here are some small delights for you...

• Your kids (or you, who's judging) might be interesting in this Tiny Desk Concert from the one and only Harry Styles.
• Speaking of Tiny Desk, they dropped a really incredible performance, including a cover of Prince's "1999," from Coldplay, backed by a nine-piece gospel choir, last week. And you know I'm a snob who would never recommend Coldplay, so you know it's good.
• And you've got to check out the Chino Hills High School Chamber Singers, whose choral festival scheduled for last week was canceled, but who connected virtually to perform together anyway. (Almost as good as the kids is this write-up from the AV Club, humorously titled, "Ruthless School Choir Stages Direct Assault On Human Heart.
• Oh, and you can now order a five-pound bag of movie theatre popcorn from Malco, to be delivered to your door!

Live. Love. Laugh. Pray.

LENT 2020: Day 26

• Lent 2020: Day 26 Thursday, March 26, 2020:
  Psalm 130; Ezekiel 1:1-3, 2:8-3:3; Revelation 10:1-11

     From the depths I called you, LORD.
          Master, hear my voice.
              May your ears listen close to the voice of my plea.
    …
    I hoped for the LORD, my being hoped,
          and for his word I waited.
    My being for the master —
          more than the dawn-watchers watch for the dawn.
    Wait, O Israel, for the LORD,
          for with the LORD is steadfast kindness,
              and great redemption is with him.

There are those in our city who understand the cries of the Psalmist on a daily basis. Within a mile of our church, and probably even closer to most of our homes, our neighbors hope for the LORD, they hope in their very being, and they wait.

During the good times, though, it can be difficult for the wealthy and privileged — us — to understand such things.

But these are not the good times.

And we are coming to understand what it means to call out to the LORD, to hope for the LORD, to hope in our very being, and to wait.

And it’s not comfortable. We don’t like it.

This virus has disrupted our lives, taking away the control we thought we had, and exposing our vulnerability in new ways.

But many in our city are vulnerable every day, virus or not.

And so may we use this time of quarantine to learn to identify with the routine needs across our city and across our world. And may we speak up and act on behalf of the most vulnerable among us.

LENT 2020: Day 25

• Lent 2020: Day 25 Wednesday, March 25, 2020:
  Psalm 146; Isaiah 60:17-22; Matthew 9:27-34

     No more shall your sun set,
          your moon shall not go down,
    But the LORD shall be your everlasting light,
          and your mourning days shall be done.

“At the beginning of the poem,” writes Robert Alter in his commentary on Isaiah, “Israel’s radiance lit up the world.”

This is very familiar to us, as Americans. It was not that long ago that America’s radiance lit up the world.

But not any more.

That is regrettable, but it also opens our eyes to the truth that has always been there: America is not a Christian nation.

In their book, Resident Aliens, Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimon lean on Philippians 3.20 to write that “it is the nature of the church, at any time and any situation, to be a colony.”

The good news, according to Isaiah, is that, despite the fact that we can no longer provide our own light, we are not left in the dark.

As Alter observes, “Now, the heavenly luminaries are to be replaced by God, as an everlasting source of light.”

Hauerwas and Willimon, though, rightly caution: “To be resident but alien is a formula for loneliness that few of us can sustain.”

And so they offer that “Christians can survive only by supporting one another through the countless small acts through which we tell one another we are not alone, that God is with us.”

In case you didn’t catch that, we know God is with us because of our own acts of community.

“Friendship,” they say, “is not, therefore, accidental to the Christian life.”

Tidings of Comfort & Joy, No. 6

Tidings of Comfort & Joy, No. 6

Today’s #songsofcomfort offering is from the Indigo Girls, with an at-home performance of “Galileo.”

“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

~Julian of Norwich

This quote from Julian of Norwich, the medieval mystic who lived through the bubonic plague, has been circulating in recent days. And it reminds us that the church exists as a community over time, as well as place.

Not only are we connected to our brothers and sisters in China, in Italy, in Spain, in France, in Egypt, in Algeria, in Ecuador, in Australia...but we are also connected to our brothers and sisters in the 18th century and the 15th century and the 9th century and the 3rd century.

And we can take comfort in that, for the testimony of Julian reminds us that the church has seen pandemics before.

Our world has a curious relationship with time. We live from one news cycle to the next, so it is counter-cultural to take a step back and look for the wisdom offered by history.

Over the next 48 hours, meditate on these words from Julian.
As you prepare for bed tonight, speak her words: “All shall be well.”
When you wake in the morning, “All shall be well.”
When you take that mid-morning break, “and all shall be well.”
When you eat lunch, “and all shall be well.”
During that afternoon break, “and all shall be well.”
At the dinner table, speak the words: “All shall be well.”
And as you prepared for bed again: “and all manner of thing shall be well.”
Over the next 48 hours, sit with these words, let them bring you comfort, and share.

And, as always, remember that joy is essential.

Ingrid Fetell Lee recommends adding a new question around your dinner table:
     “What was the silliest part of your day?”

This question came from Lee’s friends’ 4 year-old daughter. And she notes that the question makes you “notice delightful or weird moments that otherwise would’ve just been noise in a busy day.”

I love the way this silly question changed the perspective of this 4 year-old’s mom. Lee says that “some days she couldn’t immediately think of something silly that happened.” And then she realized that there actually were silly things...once she looked “through the lens of silliness.”

As Lee says, “it reframes experiences that might have been negative into positive ones.” And she adds: “Because you know you’ll be talking about it later, you actually look for more silliness in the world around you, more joy.”

So, ask yourself, ask your spouse, ask your kids:
     “What was the silliest part of your day?”
....
If you need some inspiration...

• Novel is doing virtual Storytime with Miss Marjorie.
• Novel is also doing a virtual book talk, Publisher Picks: Your Quarantine Reading List.
• And Novel is doing a Virtual Book Chat.
• Also, each night, Americana Highways is streaming Live Music From the Quarantine. They’re doing four different artists per night, starting at 6:00pm. (You can find the older videos on their Facebook page. Check out Sarah Peacock’s cover of Heart’s “Crazy On You” from the last week, for example. And Frank & Allie Lee, live from Bryson City, was really good last Monday.)

Live. Love. Laugh. Pray.

LENT 2020: Day 24

• Lent 2020: Day 24 Tuesday, March 24, 2020:
  Psalm 146; Isaiah 42:14-21; Colossians 1:9-14

     “I have been silent a very long time,
          Kept my peace, held myself in check —
    Like a woman in labor now I shriek,
          I gasp and also pant.”

In his commentary on Isaiah, Robert Alter writes: “These words answer a theological quandary that would have plagued the exiles: where is the God of Israel, why does He allow us to be reduced to this lowly state?”

Many among us today face a similar theological quandary. Where is God? Why has God allowed this to happen to us?

Alter continues: “What God says is that He has chosen to be silent and hold back, but that moment is now past.”

For God is in labor…
    shrieking (pa’ah)...
          gasping (nasham)...
              panting (sha’aph)...

Lauren Winner recalls her initial reaction to reading this: “I felt profoundly uncomfortable. I felt disturbed.”

But, she now says: “Isaiah gives us this groaning woman as a picture of the sovereign God, the God who is in control of redemption: God chooses to participate in the work of new creation with bellowing and panting.”

And she continues: “God chooses a participation that does not fight the pain, but that works from inside the pain.”

Winner then issues a call to action: “I suggest that we read in Isaiah 42 a suggestion that we — we who worship the God who has redeemed and is redeeming us — participate and play a role in the birthing process.

May it be so.

Tidings of Comfort & Joy, No. 5

Tidings of Comfort & Joy, No. 5

Today’s #songsofcomfort offering is Norah Jones, #livefromhome, covering “Patience” by Guns N’ Roses.

As the reality sets in that this is our new reality, we may start to experience anxiety. Or we may start to experience more anxiety than we already were. Know that you are not alone.

Lutheran pastor, Nadia Bolz Weber, offered this powerful prayer today. I encourage you to sit with it and let it comfort you this week.

Remember to give yourself permission to feel the feels. 

But also remember to practice square breathing. And see this advice from NAMI and this from the ADAA.

If you need support, or are feeling lonely and/or isolated, please reach out. Lizzo is there for you with some meditation too.

And if you need more professional support, find a therapist here. For most mild to moderate mental health needs, teletherapy can be just as effective as in-person therapy.

And, as always, remember that we find the fuel for the journey by finding small moments of joy. Ingrid Fetell Lee posits that “evolution is not wasteful.”

What does this have to do with joy? “These features of our bodies and minds,” she says, “have survived nature’s ruthless selection because they enhance our survival.”

In other words, joy is essential for survival.

Find, and even make, your own joy. But here are some others, if you need a boost...

• I love this fun song and video, “Six Feet Away,” from Vox.
• Lisa Loeb streamed a few songs on live yesterday.
• How about “Keep On The Sunny Side,” covered #livefromhome, by Mandolin Orange?
• And all you Hamilton fans, did you see this song, “I Have This Friend,” that was cut from the musical? If not, stop what you’re doing. Seriously, what are you waiting on?

Live. Love. Laugh. Pray.