Last fall we were thrilled to watch our six-year-old granddaughter Sienna run cross country. (Yes, we are that kind of grandparents, the ones who beam with pride at pretty much anything she does.) When you run cross country, you encounter many obstacles: the terrain, the weather – especially in the wet Pacific Northwest, and your body itself. And running cross country was a huge milestone for Sienna because she suffers from severe asthma.
Despite her asthma, Sienna ran faithfully throughout the season. Not only did she work out with her teammates, but she also ran with her dad. And, whenever she ran, she had one goal. It wasn’t winning. It wasn’t how she placed.
Her sole goal was to do her best, to persevere and to run her race. And her favorite part of one race venue was running up the hill – at the end!
I’ve thought a lot about how healthy Sienna’s approach is. It’s also counter-cultural in today’s world which seems to value only winners, where the goal seems to be to find some way to “win” without doing the hard work that our values and our dreams demand.
We can apply this to our own spiritual lives when we seek to live our faith to our best – with love. Following Jesus isn’t easy. Following Jesus means to keep going, to persevere. It means putting one foot in front of the other, as we encounter obstacle after obstacle in the challenges and disappointments of everyday life. Just like Sienna’s obstacles to running her best in cross country are unique to her, our obstacles in living our faith to our best are also unique. And Jesus is with us always: during the easier stretches, through the unexpected obstacles, when we trip or fall, and as we persevere up the hill at the end of that long run after we’re already tired. In the end, it doesn’t matter to God whether we come in first or if we come in last. Instead, it simply pleases God when we live our faith to the best of our ability, every day.
Editor’s Note: The events of the past week have elicited comment from numerous faith leaders. “Living God’s Mission” blog has chosen to post the following news story from Episcopal News Service in addition to our usual weekly posting. Please be sure to scroll down to see Pam Tinsley’s “On eagles’ wings” blog, posted June 10.
Partners for Baptismal Living blogger Brandon Beck writes, “Heading into the weekend, we amplify the voice of the collected California bishops:”
Seals of the Episcopal Dioceses of (l to r) California, El Camino Real, Los Angeles, Northern California, San Diego, and San Joaquin
[Episcopal News Service] The diocesan bishops of the six Episcopal dioceses in California issued a statement on June 10 responding to the federal immigration raids in Los Angeles and subsequent clashes between protesters and law enforcement, as well as the Trump administration’s decision to send soldiers to the area against the wishes of California leaders.
The following is the text of the bishops’ letter.
A Letter from the Episcopal Bishops in the State of California
Beloved in Christ,
Like all Californians, we are watching with great concern the events unfolding around immigration protests in Los Angeles. We are deeply concerned about the ICE raids and about the potential for violence arising from the deployment of National Guard troops and Marines to the Los Angeles area. We are concerned that military deployments will escalate the confrontations unnecessarily, and worry that all of our regions in California may be subject to future deployments that heighten tensions rather than resolving them.
Bishop John Harvey Taylor, the Episcopal Bishop of Los Angeles, has posted on social media this past weekend about what is happening in Los Angeles and his interpretation of the ways in which local officials, law enforcement, federal agencies, and protesters are all interacting. He expressed deep pain and anger as fourteen people in one single Episcopal congregation in that diocese were detained by ICE on Friday. Certainly, we as Episcopalians are shocked and saddened when any of our own are removed from our beloved community.
In all six of our dioceses, people are concerned and fearful about the denial of due process for those detained and the potential for ICE raids targeting beloved community institutions and people working to support their families. People feel angry and threatened that the haven they sought in our communities is no longer safe. U.S. citizens and legal residents feel deep grief at losing beloved friends and family members. Children whose parents are deported face uncertain futures. In our churches, we strive to protect our members who are at risk.
Our Baptismal Covenant asks us, “Will you strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being (BCP p. 417)?” This question is a direct and ongoing call to us as persons who follow Christ to live out our calling opposed to injustice, to violence of any kind, and to stand up where human beings are not treated as we would treat a child of God. This question needs to be foremost in our thoughts as we consider our response to the situation in Los Angeles.
In The Episcopal Church, we uphold a proud tradition of advocating for civil rights and supporting the vulnerable in our society. We stand for fierce love and for justice that leads to peace, as well as societal practices that preserve human dignity. With God’s help, we will speak and pray on behalf of all in this situation.
Bishop Taylor has asked for our prayers for Los Angeles, and we invite all our dioceses to pray for the unfolding situation there as well as for peace and justice in all our communities. We ask that you join us in praying:
“Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving Spirit may so move every human heart, and especially the hearts of the people of this land, that barriers which divide us may crumble, suspicions disappear, and hatreds cease; that our divisions being healed, we may live in justice and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen” (BCP p. 823).
In Christ, The Rt. Rev. Lucinda Ashby, Episcopal Bishop of El Camino Real The Rt. Rev. David Rice, Episcopal Bishop of San Joaquin The Rt. Rev. Austin K. Rios, Episcopal Bishop of California The Rt. Rev. Susan Brown Snook, Episcopal Bishop of San Diego The Rt. Rev. John Harvey Taylor, Episcopal Bishop of Los Angeles The Rt. Rev. Megan Traquair, Episcopal Bishop of Northern California
Veil Nebula supernova remnant picture by the Hubble Space Telescope. Source: NASA
by Demi Prentiss
My extended, blended family is, probably like many other similar families, repeatedly in the throes of learning how to be with one another. Lately, we have a mantra to fall back on when things get tough: “We are allowed to make mistakes.” That’s not designed to avoid accountability, or foster a laissez faire attitude about not doing our best. It does, often, open a door to grace – recognition that human beings are fragile and prone to unforced errors, and often in need of toleration. We need safe space where we can risk and be wrong. Fail fast, learn from mistakes, seek forgiveness, and even when we fall down, persist in falling forward.
A priest friend, looking at the Genesis story of “The Fall” and Adam and Eve’s ejection from the Garden of Eden, often said that original sin had nothing to do with sex, and not even with lust for knowledge. “The original sin is the desire for certainty,” he would pronounce, with a wink to those who recognized the irony of his daring to be so certain.
We human beings – made in the image of God, say the prophets – really do seem to prefer black-and-white, cut-and-dried, take-it-or-leave-it dichotomies, with clear boundaries and the opportunity to categorize outcasts and insiders. The only trouble is that Jesus – and the rest of the Trinity, apparently – are much less into stark differentiation and more into a willingness to focus on similarities rather than differences. That whole “God is love” thing.
As we seek to be followers of the Son of God, part of the walk of faith is the willingness to take the next step, following God’s calling, without the luxury of certainty. Christian theologian Paul Tillich wrote, “Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith.”[1] And author Anne Lamott answers, “[The] opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty. Certainty is missing the point entirely. Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns”[2]
“…until some light returns.” That’s a tough space to wait in. And Christians are called to speak out for God’s truth and light even when darkness appears to prevail. The Good News includes, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free” (John 8:32). God’s truth, revealed in the cosmos, reminds us that God’s incredible, enthusiastic diversity is a more trustworthy guide to truth than single-minded certainty. The “first testament” – all of creation – speaks that truth. Difference – and mess – everywhere!
Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation for Aug. 31, 2024 offers a prayer from author Cole Arthur Riley, “A Prayer for Those Who Thought They Knew,” a “prayer for those who have left spiritual spaces of certainty”:
God of wisdom, It’s hard to know what to say to a God claimed by those who have wounded us. Can we trust you? We have known what it is to exist in spiritual spaces that are more interested in controlling us than loving us. To have the room turn against us when our beliefs diverge from the group’s. We thank you for giving us an interior compass, an intuition that no longer trusts spirituality that feels like captivity. Free us from those spaces. But as we depart, keep us from relinquishing our own connection to the divine. Help us to approach you slowly in the safety of our own interior worlds before granting another spiritual space access to us. And when we’re ready, guide us into new and safe communities—communities capable of holding our deepest doubts, our beliefs, the fullness of uncertainty, without being threatened. May we approach shrewdly and carefully, for our own protection, as we search for spaces that honor the whole of us. Ase.
Riley offers this prayer to use with the breath:
INHALE: I am free to not know. EXHALE: I can rest in mystery. INHALE: I may not know what I believe, EXHALE: but I know it will sound like dignity. INHALE: My doubts are sacred. EXHALE: God, stay close as I wander.
[1]Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology, Volume 2 (University of Chicago Press: Feb. 15, 1975), pp 116-7. Dec 08 . 2015
[2] Anne Lamott, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, (Riverhead Books: 2005)
[Your reading experience will be better on a larger format screen – laptop or tablet.]
by Demi Prentiss
This past week’s Gospel reading – “deny [your]selves and take up [your] cross and follow me” – inspired a convicting reflection on the scripture (Mark 8:27-38) by Brian Malison, a graduate of Luther Seminary, in their daily posting “God Pause”:
“Christianity has a PR problem. It is impossible to put a positive spin on the statement, ‘Come join our church and learn how to deny yourself.’ There are no books on how to diminish yourself. It just isn’t the American way. There are plenty that tell you how to maximize your potential or how to become your very best self, but self-help books on taking up your cross are rarely to be found. Which may be why Jesus isn’t popular. Unless, that is, you are sick and tired of keeping up, you have found the pursuit of happiness to end in disappointment, or you have discovered that your very best self is not someone you like. Then the alternative of following Jesus, who welcomes all and offers redemption, sounds pretty good. Losing one’s fake life for the sake of Jesus is actually gaining real life. Now, how do we market that?”
Almost as though he was responding to Malison’s search for a “self-denial” tool, my longtime friend Christopher Thomas, rector of St. Thomas the Doubter in Dallas, TX, recently offered this “prayer for daily use” to his congregation and his Facebook followers. It serves as a powerful reminder that living the baptismal covenant – the outline of the calling God has placed on our lives – is not “one and done.” It’s intended to be a daily pattern, a “just for today” surrender to the fullness of life that God desires for us.
May God lead us to practice our baptismal promises intentionally today and every day, experiencing God at work through us. That’s the self-denial that allows us to become our truest self – the image of Christ that God dreams for us. That’s the promised transformation – of self and of the world around us – that sells.
Living God's Mission 