Too often the script before us is one that someone else wrote. Let’s not be afraid to change it.
Once upon a time there was a boy named John. He was raised
by selfish parents.
They drove nice cars while they dressed John in last year’s
fashions.
They spent Friday nights at fancy restaurants while John ate
boxed mac and cheese with a babysitter.
They went on lush vacations while John racked up student
loan debt.
When John got older he got married. He had a son. He named
him Jack
John treated Jack like a king.
Jack had new clothes, weekends at nice restaurants, and more
than one overseas vacation.
John changed the script.
We can too.
This weekend we will hear Jesus' words on flipping the script.
We will hear of the permission he gives. We will also ponder the deep aversion
yet seductive attraction we encounter when dare to we follow our destinies.
Too often the script before us is one that someone else wrote. Let’s not be afraid to change it.
Too often the script before us is one that someone else wrote. Let’s not be afraid to change it.
“I just can’t stop worrying about my parents,” a friend
confided in me.
He was concerned about their declining health, where they
were going to live, and how they were going to begin to divest the contents of
a home they’d occupied for five decades.
“And I’m so mad at myself for worrying so much,” he said, as
if that helped matters.
My friend gives voice to a lot of our misspent energies,
which we while away on worrying.
Jesus knew this, which is why his most frequent advice to
his disciples was not to worry.
Of course, FYI Jesus, this is much easier said than done.
What may help though, is a cubbyhole exercise.
Imagine taking that concern, aging parents, financial
pressures, health concerns, whatever, and putting them into a cubbyhole.
Imagine this is one of many cubbyholes on the wall. Then envision taking
something else out of another cubbyhole. Maybe it’s a briefcase to help
concentrate on work, or a teddy bear to engage more fully with children or
grandchildren. Or maybe it’s a fishing pole so a little R&R can help us
clear our minds.
Tell yourself you’ve spent enough time worry about that
particular concern, and now it’s time to occupy our thoughts differently. And, if it helps, promise yourself you'll return to it later. Just, not now.
It’s important to remember that we worry about things that
mean a lot to us – in other words, worry is a way we value things. And if you’re
like me you’d rather be around someone who cares too much than too little.
So let’s be easy on ourselves. Forgive ourselves. Put things in their proper place. And remember to fear not, we’re in God’s hands, all will be well.
So let’s be easy on ourselves. Forgive ourselves. Put things in their proper place. And remember to fear not, we’re in God’s hands, all will be well.
“I need another job.”
That’s what my friend said the other day after he finished paying his bills for the week.
“If I just had another $200 a month, I would be on easy street.”
While it’s true that for the desperately poor, more money is the answer to a lot of problems, for most Americans, it isn’t.
In fact, our attempts to root our security in money, possessions, power, or political candidates only takes us so far.
For example, our Gospel reading on Sunday tells about a rich man who cultivated crops then stored them up, not knowing he was going to die that night.
How much better off he would have been – and you and me – if we were to cultivate the fruits of the Spirit and enlarge the storehouses of our hearts – trusting that God will take care of us?
When we seek first, the things that God asks of us, the rest always falls into place.
After all, there are two ways to be rich: Like John D. Rockefeller and like St. Francis. One owned almost everything, the other needed almost nothing. One was rich with stuff, the other was rich with God.
When we trust in God we always have enough.
‘We’re tired of prayer! We want action!’
I’ve heard this saying more than once during this summer of
simmering racial tension. Many of us are fed up with what’s been done in the
past and we want something new – something more significant – to take its
place. To various degrees I think we all share the frustration, anger, and deep
disappointment over the way society is failing to be the free and just place we
want it to be.
However, one of the last things we need to jettison is
prayer.
Sure, in the wider society, prayer is often understood as an
escape from the world. It is something that goes on behind closed church doors,
where the faithful run away and hide from pressing problems, seeking to get a
God-fix so they can live through another day of injustice - as Karl Marx said
the opium of the people.
However, I agree with our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry who
recently said that prayer is not our way of fleeing the world, but our way of
becoming more engaged with the world.
The exercise of prayer calls us to consider the lives and
challenges of others. It asks us to visualize, often in detail, the pressing
problems facing others.
It’s been said that if our inner life is rich, our outer
work will never be insubstantial. However, if our outer life is big, our inner
life may shrivel.
In Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus takes on the issue of prayer as the basis of doing all that’s worthwhile. Prayer is our way of keeping perspective, showing compassion, and yes, deepening our souls in the troubles and triumphs that surround us. We pray to enrich our inner lives so that our work may be substantial. Prayer makes us more human and more divine.
In Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus takes on the issue of prayer as the basis of doing all that’s worthwhile. Prayer is our way of keeping perspective, showing compassion, and yes, deepening our souls in the troubles and triumphs that surround us. We pray to enrich our inner lives so that our work may be substantial. Prayer makes us more human and more divine.
‘A New Beginning’ by John O’Donohue
In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.
For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.
It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the gray promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,
Wondered would you always live like this.
Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you.
Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life’s desire.
Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.
The most important thing
we can do right now is to center ourselves.
This means reminding
ourselves of who we are, what we’re here for, and why we’re doing what we’re
doing. It means re-owning our singularity and sacredness. It means abandoning
the sense that we’re somehow missing out on another life, one that’s more special
than the one we’re living.
No, we must seize this
one. We must live deeply into our individuality, which Jesus has made divine.
Our most important job is to be ourselves.
This is not easy because
despite its infinite beauty and possibility we cannot forget there’s a
conspiracy afoot to knock us off course. Our greatest enemy is distraction.
What’s distraction look
like for you? In what ways is today taking us off course – or putting us back
on course? How can we live more deeply, right now, into who we are, what we’re
here for, and what we’re meant to be doing? How can we center ourselves?
Most of us have a sense of our ideal weight. For me it’s not measured in pounds or inches, but how comfortable my clothes are - specifically, if I’m able to go through the day with my belt at the second notch.
Sure, it usually means not ordering exactly what I’d like at the restaurant, leaving food on my plate, or minimizing (even abstaining from) dessert. But when my clothes feel comfortable, it’s all worth it.
In fact, when we think about it most things that are satisfying involve some sort of discomfort, inconvenience, or expense. I often use these as a way to validate my journey: if I’m going through the day and I’m not feeling uncomfortable, put out, or paying some sort of cost then I wonder just how giving I am; I wonder just how much I am contributing to the betterment of the world around me.
Jesus is our role model here, as the One who selflessly gave at most every opportunity. But not only is he our example, he is the source of our strength. So if we are feeling uncomfortable, inconvenienced, and like we’re paying way too high a cost, he is there to strengthen and uphold us. We all have stories of the ways God has stepped in - to give when we felt like we had no more to give. So let us not be angered or annoyed by life’s discomforts, but see them as validation of the ways we are participating in a fuller and more satisfying life.
I took a ride with an unhappy Uber driver this week.
He wasn’t happy with his job, his family situation, or the
place where he was living. He seemed like a victim to some sort of negativity
that was clearly bringing him down.
I wished I could have done more for him than pray.
Then it struck me that I could.
New research in the field of personality psychology tells us
that hopefulness is contagious. If someone who’s feeling discouraged and
negative is around hopeful people, over time, positive change regularly
results.
In Sunday’s Gospel Jesus sends 70 disciples on a mission to
bring hope. He warns there will be resistance. But he encourages them anyway.
Friends, times have not changed. We are to be bearers of
hope to a discontented and discouraged world. We will encounter resistance. But
Jesus says take heart; hope wins.
How are we embodying hope? Chances are it is making more of an impact on the world around us than we suspect.
How are we embodying hope? Chances are it is making more of an impact on the world around us than we suspect.
My hope for you is not that you would be comfortable, but that you
would do something.
It might be starting a company.
It might be writing a book
It might be being a good mom.
Whatever the call it requires keeping on task, staying
focused, and remaining centered. This is one of the most obvious and admirable
of all of Jesus’ attributes, And in Sunday’s gospel he articulates some of the
most common ways you and I get off track – which is always a first step to
getting back on track.
The first has to do with taking on too much. Many of us
commit to tasks and activities before we discover just how much time and effort
they really take. How might we count the cost before raising our hands to
volunteer?
A second addresses our failure to prioritize. Many of us can
admit to doing the more fun and least important work first while leaving the
more difficult and more important work for another time. How do we fall prey to
the ‘busy but not productive’ scenario?
A third relates to the ways we get distracted. Sure a change
of scenery often helps, but we routinely spend way too long on this side jaunts
at the detriment of the big picture. Can we name our biggest distractions and
can we articulate ways to limit or avoid them?
We live our lives in distraction-rich environments that have the capacity to make us happy, but also prevent us from keeping on the course we have charted. May Jesus grant His church focus and strength to do the work we’ve been called to do.
We live our lives in distraction-rich environments that have the capacity to make us happy, but also prevent us from keeping on the course we have charted. May Jesus grant His church focus and strength to do the work we’ve been called to do.
Dear Orlando Nightclub Victims-
I’ve never stuck my head in your club, but I can’t get your
club out of my head.
I have no idea what you’re living through. But I’m writing
to say you’re not suffering alone.
Yes, it was a sucker punch from an aggressor who may well
have been repressing his own sexual identity and therefore didn’t hate you as
much as he hated himself.
So I am trying to connect with your loss by connecting with
my own, and even then losing my loved one is still a chasm away from how you
lost yours. I’m so sorry. Please know that I’m trying to be where you are. You
are on my mind.
That’s why I’m also praying for you. But, tell you the
truth, I’m tired of praying. Columbine, Newtown, San Bernardino, in fact,
there’s a multiple victim shooting on 5 out of every 6 days in America. And each
time I wonder if maybe we’ll see something change – but we don’t. Yes, raging
frustration is part of the pain we share.
However I’m not just writing to lament, I am writing to
remind myself that no substantial, long-term social change ever comes about in
a finger snap. It takes snowflake after snowflake on the mount before the
avalanche cascades. And when it does, watch out. All along remembering that
every snowflake counts.
I also want you to know that the petitions I’ll sign and the
literature I’ll distribute are being done for you. I’ve had enough. And I’m
really hoping the action you’ve inspired in me will be seen by others who will
be encouraged, and thus encourage others.
Finally, you’ve caused me to look deeper. Not for reasons,
but for magic. I’ve experienced few tragedies from which something marveling emerged
that would not have otherwise. So as we go about the dirty work before us I’m
on the lookout for gold.
Carry on my friends, your burden is being shared. Our human
bonds of mutual concern are stronger than the thin threads of evil like this. We will win
because goodness wins, and I pray that I can’t get that out of my head.
“Where did you see Jesus today?”
It’s an end of the day question I’ve started asking friends
and family.
Was it in a patient store clerk? A generous friend? A caring
stranger? It’s harder to find Jesus when we’re not looking for him.
About 15 years ago a fun experiment was designed related to
this – if you have two minutes go ahead and take it here then continue reading. It’s worth it.
The study asked participants to count the number of times a
basketball was being passed around between a group of people. While study
participants were busy counting the passes, a man in a gorilla suit passed
through the group. While nearly all the study participants were able to
correctly tally the number of times the basketball was passed, about half of
them did not notice the man in the gorilla suit walk through the setting (I
didn’t).
This exercise in selective attention reminds us that we can
be blind to obvious things when we become too focused on other things.
In Sunday’s Gospel we’ll meet a man who suffered from this selective
attention, to his detriment, and was unable to recognize God in his midst.
This is why I have a habit of asking myself and others where
they saw Jesus today.
After all, finding him is much easier when we’re looking for
him.
Where did you see Jesus today?
Where did you see Jesus today?
When I moved into my house I had a kitchen counter and no
chairs.
Thankfully, my sister’s home was being renovated and she
asked me to store some things until the construction job was completed. This
included two chairs that looked like they were custom made for my kitchen
counter.
My children loved these chairs, the height and styling were
perfect. Guests always commented on how well they fit the space.
Then, after 8 months, my sister asked for the chairs back. I
was bummed. Where was I going to find another set of chairs that would do the
trick? The closest I could come was a pair of wooden chairs that never quite
fit. And every day I passed that counter all I could think of was how substandard
my current chairs were and how ideal my sisters had been.
However, I no longer pass that counter feeling that way. No,
I don’t have new chairs. I have a new attitude.
I have discovered that much of human discontent comes when
we look at what we have as something that’s due to us – whether it’s earned, willed,
or otherwise acquired. What has done the trick for me is to understand,
instead, that everything is a gift.
What I mean is that I started out with an empty kitchen counter.
And then my sister gave me a gift. I really enjoyed that gift, and I was lucky
to do so for 8 months.
Earlier this week, when a friend asked if I could run a very
inconvenient errand, I found a way to say yes, and did so happily because I
looked at the gift it was to be able to help someone plus enjoy a scenic drive.
In other words, nearly every hassle, headache, and heartache
can be greatly lessened by our understanding that it’s not what it appears to
be. Of course, it may not be expected, recognized, or as mundane as the
examples I’ve mentioned. But even grief over the death of a loved one is
greatly lessened by my thoughts of gratefulness toward them.
The wonder of creation, the work and ministry of Jesus, the
calling God has on our lives, it’s a gift. It’s all a gift.








