Over the past several weeks I’ve noticed a common theme in several sermons and reflections. “Listen, believe, and act” were the words of wisdom that my late friend Rena offered to her son-in-law years ago. In another instance, an engaging preacher reminded the congregation that “gratitude, study, and reflection” are the principal components of discernment, that is, a conversation with God. The Cursillo/Come and See ministry in my diocese invites us to reflect during weekly small group reunions about our “spiritual practices, life-long learning, and spiritual action.” Daughters of the King take vows of prayer, service, and evangelism. And an Ignatian reflection phrased the same idea this way: find God in your life; identify what God is calling you to do; reflect on your own actions and motives; and then make a choice aligned with God’s desire.
Although the words themselves may vary, conversation with God is at the heart of each. Conversation means that we both listen to God and respond to God. We can listen for God’s voice in prayer and in the study of God’s Word, including the Bible and other sacred writings. We convey belief by expressing our gratitude to God. Regular worship – Eucharist, i.e., the Great Thanksgiving – is our faithful expression of gratitude.
As we look and listen for God’s loving presence in our daily lives through these spiritual practices, God also calls us to respond – to act. Each one of us is integral to Christ’s mission. For some, such as the saints, their part in Christ’s mission might be extraordinary. But for most of us, our part may seem quite ordinary and even insignificant and usually takes place in everyday life.
Yet, like a jigsaw puzzle with its many pieces, Christ’s mission needs each one of us. So, I invite you to engage in conversation with God and listen; believe and be grateful for how deeply God loves you; and respond by serving God in your daily life.
Dennis Raverty, writing for The Living Church, recently took a closer look at a widely-distributed 19th century print of a painting by George Caleb Bingham, titled The Jolly Flatboatmen.
The Jolly Flatboatmen, George Caleb Bingham, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
When the engraving was distributed to American Art-Union subscribers in 1846, some objected that the realistic subject matter was “uncouth.” Raverty believes that Bingham was intentionally mirroring a far more lofty painting by the Renaissance master Raphael, The Transfiguration of Christ. In “quoting” Raphael, as Raverty expresses it, Bingham makes the clear implication that “life on the Western frontier transforms people, and helps them realize their innate Christlike potential.”
The Transfiguration of Christ, Raphael, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Raverty writes, “The gift of discernment demanded by the painting is the ability to see the latent Christ even in the most humble and coarse of subjects. Seeing the High Renaissance references in this lowly genre piece of daily life on the river required a similar act of recognition.”
Recognizing Christ at work in our daily lives requires understanding Christ as living and active in the world we encounter. Bingham’s gift of highlighting daily life transformation reaffirms our own aspirations to see Jesus often in the people and situations around us. As Raverty concludes, “By elevating the ordinary, as Bingham has done in this painting, the artist transfigures it, and at the same time challenges viewers to discern the hidden image of the glorified Christ in their otherwise mundane, everyday reality.”
Cursilllistas who practice living “the Fourth Day” ask themselves each week, “Where have I seen Christ in action?” A good question for those of us who seek to follow Jesus.
Novelist Qiu Xiaolong, in his 2000 (English translation) novel Death of a Red Heroine (Book 1 of the Inspector Chen series), writes, “When you wear the mask, the mask becomes you.” I’m thinking about masks today for many reasons, mostly because my mask hurts my face. I am learning to take my mask off by listening to God and integrating God’s call on my life with a psychoeducational practice of emotional sobriety.
In SMART Recovery groups, people come to learn emotional sobriety as a pathway to peace from any and all kinds of addictive behavior. We recognize, understand, and act to change our own actions in relationship to our feelings and thoughts. One of my rule-of-life principles is to remember, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14). Coming to know this about myself was not as simple as meditating on the psalm or listening to other people compliment me, reward me, or praise me – especially when who they were complimenting and lauding was my mask and not me. Participating in SMART Recovery and practicing the skills taught there helps me embody the words of God, to recognize my authentic self in God’s words, to understand myself as God sees me, and to act in a way congruent with who I am as a child of God.
I’m reminded of another quote – this one from the 1998 film version of Alexandre Dumas’s classic The Man in the Iron Mask: “I wear the mask. It does not wear me.” I’ve learned to make a conscious decision about my mask rather than letting it control my life. I recognize the illusion my mask creates – the way it separates me from God – and I understand how to take my mask off so that it does not wear me, does not become me.
One of the SMART Recovery exercises is on unconditional self-acceptance (USA) and asks that I challenge negative thoughts I have about myself, detect my own irrational/worldly thoughts, and connect with the rational thoughts that demonstrate my worth and goodness based on facts I can sense. My action is to turn to God and remember that “I am fearfully and wonderfully made”– it’s ok to take off my mask so the world can see how God created me!
De-masking – showing the world my beautiful face – is a truth-telling that came easily as a small child. Jesus asks us to reach God through childlike wonder because, when we are children, we haven’t yet been told to put on masks; as children we haven’t hidden our beautiful faces from our Creator. My prayer today is that we each examine our faces and ask, “What mask am I wearing? What’s stopping me from taking it off?” After all, God wants to see your beautiful face!!
We are all missionaries. By our own cultural heritage, by our own geographic setting, by our training, education, life experience, and unique access to certain people, we are to bear the beams of God’s light, and life, and love, knowing that God is with us and that God will provide. – Br. Curtis Almquist, SSJE
U.S. National Park Service photo
Summer is such a great time for travel, or for a stay-cation – for getting outside our daily routines and perhaps exploring a few new things, just a bit outside our comfort zone. Seeing, doing, learning, observing something new. It’s a great reminder that the things that strike us as “new” might be one of the “new things” that God is placing before us – perhaps to entice us to join in one of God’s “new things.”
It’s easy to forget that the things that strike us as “new” may be everyday stuff for lots of people. And vice versa: our habits may be startling “new things” to those who might not know us, our daily grind, or our “home” culture. No matter where we go or who we encounter, God is with us, as Brother Curtis reminds us. Whether or not we choose to be aware of God being with us, the people we encounter will be able to see “the beams of God’s light,” if we’re brave enough – and authentic enough – to let them shine through.
Recognizing our role as light-bearers can humble us. And embolden us, perhaps, to dare to live our fullest version of the life God is calling us to live.
Eugene Peterson’s The Message gives this interpretation to Matthew 5:16:
14-16 “Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand – shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
“The longer I live the more deeply I learn the love – whether we call it friendship, family, or romance – is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s light.” – James Baldwin, Nothing Personal
For as long as I can remember, our four-year-old granddaughter Sienna has prayed. When she was learning to talk, she would sit on our couch with a small Book of Common Prayer – just the right size for a child – and “say prayers.” Although only the words “the Spirit,” and “Amen” were discernible to our ears, she and God certainly knew what she was praying!
As Sienna got a bit older, she began to lead grace at dinner. She still insists that each of us take a turn thanking God before we eat. And before bed, Sienna and her mom sing “Jesus loves me” together. She especially loves the music at church (and Sunday school!), and whenever she’s at an Episcopal church, she follows along with “her Bible” – that small BCP – even though she can’t yet read!
On Sunday mornings in May while we were on vacation together, I would tune into my parish’s on-line worship service. Sienna quickly joined me. Together we sang the opening hymn, responded to the Liturgy of the Word, and listened to the Gospel reading.
Then the sermon began. Sienna seemed captivated, even as the preacher delved into a thought-provoking sermon about what it means to be human and about the Church’s role in the age of artificial intelligence. I couldn’t believe that this four-year-old was still paying attention! Then the preacher mentioned the soul. Without missing a beat, Sienna began to sing the familiar song, “I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.”
In all three synoptic Gospels, Jesus says, “Let the little children come to me.” Our experiences with Sienna are examples of how children give adults a glimpse of God’s Kingdom and how our littlest ones can minister to us. We need only to have eyes to see and ears to hear!
After reading Matthew 10:40-42 I’ve been reflecting on what it means to give and to receive hospitality: How I might offer a “cup of cold water” – hospitality – to someone in need – or how I might receive it.
In the midst of my reflections, I had two telephone interactions with the IRS. Yes, the IRS whom so many of us fear!
The first call was regarding a non-profit whose contact and address information I’d been trying to update by mail for close to two years. When a letter from the IRS was miraculously forwarded to me, I filled out paperwork for the changes. And then I still waited. Finally, with a bit of trepidation, I picked up the phone and called the person whose name was on the letter. Within 20 minutes the changes were implemented by an incredibly helpful and gracious IRS representative. He ended our conversation with, “May God bless you.”
My second call was related to our personal taxes. I decided to save on our accountant’s fee and – perhaps bolstered by that recent experience – made the call to the IRS. Lo-and-behold, I ended up with another super helpful and gracious IRS rep who thanked me each time she had to put me on hold. She sorted everything out quite efficiently, and she thanked me yet again for my patience!
What they probably saw as routine actions made a deep impression on me. They made me feel as though I’d received a cup of cold, refreshing water – just like the cup of cold water Jesus refers to in Matthew 10:42.
That’s when I realized that most of my own acts of welcome are simply part of my daily or weekly routine.
As 21st-century disciples, we bear Jesus’ presence to whomever we encounter, whether it’s at home, at work, at the grocery store, or even on a service call. And we do this through simple, everyday acts of kindness. Because each simple, everyday act of kindness, of grace, embodies God’s love for our neighbor. Each simple, everyday act of kindness, of grace, bears witness to the extravagant welcome of God’s kingdom. Each simple, everyday act of kindness can grow and spread and lead to something greater – to more – when we offer it in Jesus’ name. Each simple, routine act of kindness can begin to transform our broken world into a world more attuned to God’s will for us and more aligned with God’s Kingdom values.
Those who know me have heard me quote the statistic that 99.2 percent of the church are laity. That is true across denominations in the U.S., and that means that all the clergy comprise less than one percent of the church. Laity – just like the ordained – are called to exercise their ministry 24/7/365. And if we laity leave “being church” up to the clergy, we’ll kill the ordained with too much work and too many expectations, while leaving the work of the Body of Christ largely unrealized.
A recent blog posted by Michael Piazza is titled “From Theology to Biography.” It is a powerful reminder of the work God has called all of us Christians – through our baptisms – to do as our everyday response to God’s claim on our lives:
“What does it mean for our theology to become biography? It can’t happen only when you are at church. It also must happen when you are fishing or filing. Ninety-nine percent of the ministry of the church takes place Monday through Friday in shops and offices and factories. The deep purpose of our lives must extend to every area of life, and our purpose also must extend beyond the boundary of our own lives. Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said:
“You ask why are we here, and I will tell you. We are here to serve. Success is not defined by the number of servants you have, but by how many people you serve.
“According to a parable Jesus told, only a fool thinks the purpose of life is gaining more and more. The most certain formula for misery is to have as your only purpose for rising in the morning and working through the day to be what you can accumulate for yourself.
“If you can summarize the purpose of your life with the words “me” and “mine” then you have succeeded in sentencing your soul to hell. Oh, not the hell of eternal fire, but the hell of a shallow, vain, and meaningless existence. Look at the great lives that have made this a better planet:
What if Beethoven had been only an organist?
What if Edison had been only a mechanic?
What if Rosa Parks had been only a seamstress?
What if Desmond Tutu had been only a priest?
What if Mother Theresa had been only a nun?
“Great people are those who have most enriched the lives of others. Isn’t it time for us to rise up to become great people?”
Keep, O Lord, your household the Church in your steadfast faith and love, that through your grace we may proclaim your truth with boldness,and minister your justice with compassion; for the sake of our Savior Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. (Collect, Proper 6, Year A, RCL)
In the daily devotional of The Oriental Orthodox Order in the West, “Witnesses to Truth,” dated Friday, June 16, 2023, Abbot Lynn Bauman opened with quotes from playwright Tennessee Williams and theo-philosopher David Price:
No one is ever free until they tell the truth about themselves and the life into which they’ve been cast…. We are all here to be a witness to something, to be of some aid and direction to other people. – Tennessee Williams
The first truth we have to tell is the truth of the culture of outrageous violation we find ourselves in. Our essential self is violated from early days in our lives. There’s no other word for it. We have to heal ourselves with truth. This is work, and it often goes slowly. – David Price
Witnesses to Truth, Abbot Lynn Bauman, 2023
Abbot Lynn goes on to say, “We are here as witnesses – to both be in and watch the world from our vantage point, and speak its truth no matter how difficult that may be for us, but also more importantly to be of aid and direction for other people. That is a divine calling – a higher purpose, and it gives direction and meaning for our lives. Obviously, the stakes are high as we perform this task (duty or vocation) as we feel it.”
I read “Witnesses to Truth” on Friday, June 16, then turned to the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) to prepare for Sunday, June 18.
God winked. Abbot Lynn, RCL year A, and I were thinking alike, it seemed.
The collect for Proper 6 (Sunday closest to June 16 and printed at the beginning of this article) prays for our steadfastness in proclaiming the truth and ministering in justice and compassion. And the selected scriptures for Proper 6 weave into this truth-telling-tapestry, too.
Personally, I find that balancing my bold proclamations of truth with my ministering with justice and compassion requires continual awareness, patience, practice, and prayer. I require a full team of support to keep my balance. I am grateful to my accountability partner, my family, my community, and God’s voice and presence for reminding me moment-by-moment to shift my weight a little this way or that in order that I don’t fall. I shout for joy when I see old things in new ways and new things from different perspectives, and I am learning that part of staying centered is accepting help and hearing God’s voice when it comes out of the mouths of others.
In Track 2 of Proper 6, Year A, the appointed Psalm is 100. It is a joyful shout to God – a great, bold proclamation of truth. “Give thanks to [God] and call upon [God’s] name,” says the psalmist. Listen to this psalm set to music by Adam Wright of The Corner Room. “Sometimes, we unknowingly stumble upon a life-long pursuit and don’t immediately realize its impact. For Adam Wright, that life-long pursuit is setting Scripture to music, a resource to help God’s people engage and treasure the Bible more deeply. [Adam] arrang[es] each piece into a singable work that makes memorization and meditation a joy.” (https://www.cornerroommusic.com/ )
Yet, boldly proclaiming God’s name is not our only call; we are also called to minister with justice and compassion. Our Psalm 100 shout of joy is tempered, this week, by our Gospel instruction from Jesus, from which we hear:
…proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons…I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Beware of them, for they will hand you over to councils and flog you in their synagogues; and you will be dragged before governors and kings because of me, as a testimony to them and the Gentiles. When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you at that time; for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” (Matthew 9:35-10:23)
We are called to proclaim with boldness and minister with justice and compassion, and, by the Spirit, with boldness and shouts, we can.
Jesus did; the apostles did; through the generations our abbas and immas have, and now we do.
To adapt the words of Henri-Frederic Amiel to this writing: Life in this space-time is short, and we have too little time to journey this way together, so gladden each other’s hearts whenever you can by being swift to love and make kindness. Be bold to proclaim the name of God, and minister with justice and compassion…and may the blessing of God – Father and Mother, Incarnate in Jesus, and Holy Spirit – be with you now and always.
Mandy Patinkin as Inigo Montoya, The Princess Bride
Shakespeare, in Romeo and Juliet, has Juliet ask, “What’s in a name?” In what’s become a famous soliloquy (Act 2, Scene ii), Juliet wonders why her family and Romeo’s should keep their love from being known.
Semiotics, the study of signs and symbols and their use in communication and meaning making, has been applied by philosophers, linguists, anthropologists, theologians, and others. Ferdinand de Saussure (1857-1912) was a Swiss semiotician who worked in the subfield of semiology, focusing on the bilateral nature of the sign – the signifier and the signified. Saussure taught that words only have meaning in social context. What I say and think I mean only have meaning when you hear it and assign it value.
In The Princess Bride, a 1987 comedy-adventure film based on the 1973 book of the same name, Inigo Montoya says to Vizzini, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Finnish academic Osmo Wiio’s somewhat satiric, yet accurate, laws of communication, state, “If communication can fail, it will.”
I live in Texas. Our Legislature meets every two years. In the last several sessions, one topic has held traction in the House and the Senate – anti-LGBTQ (especially anti-trans) legislation. Session after session, activists and advocates in the legislature, in the lobby, and in the public square have thwarted efforts to disenfranchise LGBTQ Texans. This year was different.
Texas, as of Friday 19 May 2023, is near enacting a law banning diversity offices in public universities. SB14 passed and will go to Gov Abbot, who says he will sign it. This bill bans minors from receiving trans-affirming medical care. The House has approved SB15 which bans transgender athletes from participating in sports based on gender. A bill that would have ended a law criminalizing homosexuality in Texas did not make it to the floor.
What’s in a name?
My name is Brandon. It hasn’t always been, but it is now.
He and She are signifiers of gender. The person to whom the pronoun refers is the signified. My pronouns are he/him. I am male.
How do you know what someone means when they use a word to describe a group of which you’re a part? Does the word really mean what you think it means?
Supporters of SB14, during the hearings, described transgender Texans as a “social contagion.”[1]
Communication fails.
Even Jesus’ Law of love:
43 “You have heard that it was said, You must love your neighbor and hate your enemy. 44 But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who harass you 45 so that you will be acting as children of your Father who is in heaven. He makes the sun rise on both the evil and the good and sends rain on both the righteous and the unrighteous.46 If you love only those who love you, what reward do you have? Don’t even the tax collectors do the same? 47 And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing? Don’t even the Gentiles do the same? 48 Therefore, just as your heavenly Father is complete in showing love to everyone, so also you must be complete.[2]
We enter a covenant with Jesus and reaffirm it again and again at Baptism:
I will follow the apostles’ teaching; I will be in community, break bread, pray; I will resist evil, repent, return; I will proclaim by word and example the Good News; I will seek and serve Christ in ALL PERSONS; I will LOVE my neighbor as myself; I will strive for justice and peace among all people; I will respect the dignity of every human being.
This love that Jesus teaches – of whose name we seem to have forgotten, whose signified is nearly lost, whose meaning seems absent these days – this love of Jesus we have allowed to fail to be communicated to our neighbors In Biblical Greek “love” is ἀγάπη (agape), considered the highest form of love – that between God and God’s Son – incarnational love – sacrificial love – perichoretic love – mysterious love. Nothing should be desired more or shared more than the love we receive from heaven.
When we promise to live baptismally, repeating those words everytime we support a newly baptized sibling in Christ, what are we signifying? What do we really mean? Do our words and actions toward all our neighbors, no matter their name, demonstrate the love of God – Three-in-One?
Several months ago, I returned to the gym for the first time since the pandemic started. It wasn’t easy. Not because I was physically incapable of resuming regular exercise, but because working out at the gym was no longer a daily practice. I made excuses not to go. However, as I eased into a new pattern of working out, I began to feel better. As I expanded my regimen, I felt my muscles firming up. I felt much better physically, mentally, and spiritually. And a bonus was my joyful reunion with many of my former “workout buddies.”
The church where I serve describes itself as a spiritual gym. It’s where we work out in ways that shape our character and our values. Just like physical muscles, our spiritual muscles call for specific exercises – such as worship, prayer, and Bible study – to stay in shape and stretch our faith.
Church is not only a place where we find the tools for our spiritual workout. It’s also where we find community to guide, support, and encourage us. Worshipping with fellow parishioners deepens our faith as we practice together what it means to be a follower of Jesus. Praying together transforms us and our church community.
A spiritual gym – like a physical gym – brings people together from different locations, generations, and life situations. We all are blessed with different gifts, which we share with one another, growing stronger together. We may even discover new gifts, which, in turn, are strengthened from learning and practicing – exercising – together.
And although our spiritual workouts transform our lives and community withinthe “gym,” they are primarily meant to prepare us for daily life outside the “gym,” in the world. Our spiritual workouts and mutual support strengthen us so that we can be Jesus’ hands and feet wherever God may lead us.
Living God's Mission 