The call of the disciples can leave us with the impression that Jesus was either a hypnotist or cult leader.

After all, the text tells us that James and John, on-the-job fishermen, ‘immediately followed’ Jesus - without question or protest, even from their father.

We get this impression because we reason that to leave a settled job in the family business and to run off with a stranger, especially a mysterious religious teacher, must have been a risky proposition at best.

But what if we understood Jesus as the medical school admissions officer inviting two new students to join the freshman class? How quickly they might drop everything? How approving mom and dad might be?

In other words, what if following Jesus was a step up and not a step down? What if it was more about fulfilling our deepest dreams than rationalizing allegiance to a cult leader?

We followers know this but need reminding: there’s nothing more fulfilling than a life awash in service, overcome by generosity, and lost to love. We are blessed when we follow. For blessed are those who heed the call, for this is eternal life. 

Lord I’ve got a big decision and you’re nowhere in sight…

The question came to a middle-age nurse - trying to decide whether or not to take the promotion to become part of the administration team.

She weighed both options and was sincerely split between remaining where she was and enjoying the freedom of following a schedule someone else set and doing work someone else assigned - or to make a bit more money, have better hours, but become the person who scheduled others and assigned work to others.

‘I keep praying for an answer,’ she confided to her mother. ‘But I don’t seem to get one. How can I know what God wants me to do?’

Her wise mother paused for a moment over their coffee at the kitchen table, then said, 'You can’t.

‘You just have to pause and get in touch with three areas of your life - yourself, your situation, and God.

‘And at the end of the day, we make the best decision when we feel it resonates with the kind of life Jesus lived and lives.’ 

Some say write things down.

Others say stopping to make a mental note helps.

Still others say eating more veggies makes a difference in the long run.

Improving our ability to remember (literally ‘re’ meaning ‘call to’ and ‘memor’ meaning mindful, thus 'calling to mind’) improves when we find ways to routinely get important things in front of our minds.

I once asked a parishioner why he came to church. He said that without Sunday church his week was disorienting and, ‘just didn’t feel right.’ That may be because church-going is a way we remember.

Remembering that there is one God (and we are not her), remembering that God has things covered, remembering that giving is our real source of joy, remembering the plight of the less fortunate, and remembering that our main job is simply to love other people, are all things I routinely forget. My daily rituals of remembrance make me much more mindful of these truths, and thus improve my level of happiness, and I like to think, the state of the world around me.

What are the rituals of memory in place around us? How well are they working? And how might they be improved?

Our memories improve when we find routines that help us regularly call to mind the truth of our lives. 

At the tail end of December we see the days are getting longer… 

More light is coming into the world.

It’s not just because the earth is shifting on its axis - but it’s because you have chosen to read this blog post - something you suspect might draw you closer to Christ.

As John 1 tells us, Jesus is the source of light. So the more we think about, gaze upon, talk about, and imitate Christ, the more that light flows into the world.

Our everyday practices of doing this - saying a quick prayer in the car or reading a page of a devotional on a coffee break - all allow more light to come into the world.

What’s that look like in our day today? How are we opening ourselves up to Jesus - and the light? 

Our church was broken into last night.

Yikes.

The culprit busted through the window opening in the music office, tramped around the building in muddy boots, set off every alarm, and was present when a parishioner responded, hanging around and chatting for 15 minutes, alleging he had walked in through an unlocked door.

Once he left (5’10, average build, bearded caucasian, with mouthwash on his breath), the scene of the break in was discovered. 

A canvass of the property revealed nothing was taken and no one was hurt.

Perhaps like you, I feel violated and vulnerable. While it’s not a trauma like rape, murder, or death, it’s still traumatic. 

This time of year is fraught with trauma. If we’ve lost a loved one or been divorced in 2017, it’s a year of ‘firsts,’ i.e. first Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc. without ________. Or the holidays may dig up reminders of past trauma. 

And the notable thing about trauma is that we’re tempted to believe 1) it was all my fault, 2) this ruins everything, and 3) it’s bound to haunt me for life - it’s called personalization, pervasiveness, and persistence. Of course, it's mostly a lie.

A divorce, death, break in, or other traumatic event is rarely all our fault. It does not necessitate a negative impact in other areas of our lives. And we very well may get over it faster than we think. In the initial throes of a trauma it is important to heed the advice we hear in Sunday’s gospel: getting through trauma is not impossible with God.

As we approach the emotionality of Christmas, it is essential to remind ourselves of the detrimental affects of personalization, pervasiveness, and persistence found in traumatic events. God wants us to know we are often more resilient than we think, more capable than we think, and God is more present than we think. Our scars may run deep, but the love of God is always deeper. 

It’s snowing.

a) “Man, how inconvenient.”

b) “Look at the beauty of God’s creation.”

I’m going shopping.

a) “All those crowds, what a hassle.”

b) “Boy has God has blessed me with the means and ability to purchase things."

Time to make dinner.

a) “Just another chore to check off the list.”

b) “Thanks God for providing more than enough in a world where so many have so little.”

Going to the gym.

a) “Hope this goes by quickly and I don’t get injured.

b) “What a wonderful gift of health the Lord has given me."

Starting the diet.

a) “What a huge list of things I cannot eat, I’m gonna starve."

b) “Thanks Lord for the small exercises of self-control than will help me achieve my ambitions.”

All human events offer an a) and at least one b).

Call it over the top optimism, or at least courting Pollyanna, but at this time of year we look to John the Baptist who incessantly points us to b). He reminds us that a definition of a Christian is someone who finds Jesus in every person and event.

How are we doing here? How might we engage in finding God in what’s going on around us? Can we do this once a day? Looking for God in our unfolding lives is smart, it’s the pursuit of truth and is the true road to happiness. 

Think before you Tweet.

Look before you step.

Or pack at least a day before vacation.

These are all aspects of that perilously elusive word: preparation.

By this we mean a simple blend of foresight and anticipation by which we enter a meeting, vacation, or holiday, with a modicum of serenity at the possibility we have most of the bases covered.

There are two aspects to preparation: our actual state of preparedness and our feelings about our preparedness. We can guess which one is more important to cultivate.

We know that the secret of preparedness is not so much to be kitted out for every possibility, imagining every aspect of what could possibly go wrong, but to adopt a way of looking ahead with a latent knowing that the unexpected is bound to arise and in the end, all will be OK.

Let’s call it an Advent State of Mind. 

We adopt this by spending less time figuring out Plan A, B, and C… and more time living into the a settled contentment over the probable, settled outcome.

Advent preparation, then, means moving into a deeper understanding of God’s hand upon all we do and presence alongside us wherever we go.

So let us prepare for Advent with a fresh resolve to spend less energy on contingency planning, and more effort looking to Christ, in prayer, study, and meditation, contented that this is really the best way to prepare

A woman awoke one morning with a headache.

But before walking to the medicine cabinet she took a stroll inside the corridors of her mind. She asked her headache.

'Why are you here and what have you brought me?'

'I've come to bring you gifts,' said the malady,. 'I've tried to deliver them in many ways and at many times, but perhaps today you are ready to receive them '

There were three gifts. She gradually underwrapped the first.

It was a picture of a hospital patient being wheeled into an operating room, his head bandaged so completely it was a wonder he could breathe.

'Boy, I hope he's ok,' she said, as she began to think of all the other people in the world suffering from head pain. Her first gift was empathy.

Unwrapping the next present she found a basket of medications, headache treatments both medical and natural, right at her fingertips. She had many roads to relief. 'I'm so lucky,' she said, realizing her second gift was gratitude.

Just then a surge of pain forced her to roll over on her bed where she gazed out the window. There she spotted a family of deer, four of them, grazing right there in the backyard. They paused and looked up at her for a long moment. 'Oh!,' she gasped at the rare sight, suddenly overwhelmed with the notion that she was not alone, God was with her, her third present.

'Oh headache,' she said, 'I thought you had come to bring darkness to my day, but you have brought light.' 

Since Thanksgiving is all about feasting, here are a few suggestions.

Starve the urge to want more, feed the urge to be thankful for what we have.

Starve the urge to worry about not our lack, feed the urge to believe God will provide.

Starve the urge to believe we’re inadequate, feed the urge that says we’re enough.

Starve the urge to drink past your limit, feed the urge to connect with those around us.

Starve the urge to eat more than we should, feed on the urge to stay balanced.

Starve the urge to talk only to those you know, feed the urge to connect with new people.

Starve the urge to believe we’re on our own, feast on the urge that says we are not alone.

Starve the urge to be overwhelmed, feast on the idea that all will work out in God’s time.

Starve the urge to speak ill of others, feast on the urge to compliment.

Starve the urge of self-centeredness, feast on the urge to pitch in.

Bon appétit-

Fr. Chris+ 

Cards Against Humanity is trying to stick it to Donald Trump.

The edgy, off-color, online toy company is offering no apologies about making a very political statement, by buying up a large piece of property along the Mexican, United States border, and hiring a seasoned law firm to make it as difficult as possible for the President to carry out his plans to build a wall between the two countries.

What business does this feisty little privately owned company have getting into the political arena? Where's the precedent? Who gave the permission?

Or, perhaps the better question is why aren't people of faith more proactively working for important societal change? Why don't we see more bold and creative acts of civil disobedience based on our convictions?

On Sunday we will read a story about people

receiving permission from their Master to go out into the world and use their talents creatively and fruitfully. And we will remember that Jesus gives precedent and permission for followers to stand up and get involved, especially in activities on behalf of the marginalized, the poor, and the movements that work to bring peace and justice into the world.

Our biggest regrets in life are often not about doing the wrong thing, but about not doing anything. How is God calling us to take a chance, to give ourselves permission, to get out into the world more fully, and to truly engage with our culture and with our world? 

We see people and things not as they are but as we are. 

This is why we have such differing experiences of people and places. In fact, the way we see others points out much more about ourselves than it does about others.

That’s why growing in awareness is so important; awareness of who we are, who others are, who God is, and what the world is all about.

We can do this in four distinct ways. We become more aware when we ask: 1) At regular intervals of the day and week, ‘why am I here and what do I want?’ 2) How am I making ongoing learning and education a strong component of who I am? 3) How do I get too busy? and 4) How am I in intentional relationships with others that allow me to hear alternative awarenesses?

It’s been said that awareness is God's most valuable gift, that this is what Christ provided on the cross, and that is available to you and me through the gift of faith and the fruit of our labors. How are we being called to accept and cultivate awareness? 

I heard from my dead mother the other day.

It was in a dream. I couldn't believe how vivid and authentic her voice, cadence, and wisdom came across. I had no idea my clumsy memory was able to store such detailed recollections, and then assemble such precise projections. The words and advice were spot on, I awoke with an errie yet oddly fulfilling sense of presence and accompaniment. And was quickly alerted to the fact that, more than likely, this also happens to you.

Since humans have walked the earth, we've been trying to make sense of who we are and why we're here, and an integral component has been the fate and presence of the beloved who have gone before us.

The image accompanying this essay is the Pantheon in Rome. It is by far the best preserved of all the ancient Roman wonders because it was built to house the 12 major dieties of the time, and subsequent conquerors were too spooked and superstitious to touch it. So there it stands, now converted by the Christians, yet in keeping with an original principal: it is the Church of St. Mary and All Saints. Gone are the gods, present are His messengers. The Pantheon continues to serve as a monument to our lingering desire to make sense of the world with the help of forces beyond us who await our bidding.

On All Saints Sunday you and I pause to consider this distant yet eerily proximate other world: who's there, what's being said, and how might it concern us today?

The Church has always been clear here: the saints are unseen allies. Among their duties are to encourage, inspire, and better equip you and me for the Work. Amidst our frequent feelings of fatigue, confusion, insignificance, and just plain overwhelming, they come to us at strange times and weird places to remind us of a vision of something bigger, better, and far more purposeful than we allow ourselves to imagine.

So go ahead and be confident. Dream. Dare. Let us open ourselves anew to our higher calling, take risks, and chance it. Go with your intuition. It's usually right.