Don't Look Up-- Look Within: Homily for Ascension Day, 2018

Last week as I was mucking about online, this statement caught my eye when I saw it posted somewhere: “We will never change the world by going to church. We will only change the world by BEING the Church.”

In response to this statement, a friend of mine asked me about a claim she had heard from one of her friends, who is an evangelical pastor, saying that the Church needs to be more wide awake than ever so that it can continue to “run things” as it has supposedly done for the last 2000 years, to make America great again. 

That pastor’s claim to a very specific wedding of national political power to the message of Christ is particularly interesting as we celebrate Ascension Day—the day when Jesus launched the Church out onto the vast sea of mission. And it was a question that was on the minds of the apostles too, especially after Jesus’s resurrection.

It’s right there in our reading from Acts. After his resurrection, Jesus appears to the disciples several times, urging them to stick close to Jerusalem and wait. The disciples, with their heads still spinning from the events they have been through since Jesus’s arrest, once again show that their heads are still in the same place as my friend’s friend: they ask when Jesus is going to assume political power and make himself an actual king, restoring the fortunes of Israel to become the pre-eminent power in the world. They want to know when Jesus is going to make Jerusalem great again.

And Jesus shuts that down, and once again reminds them what he’s been about all the time they’ve known him: he has been about making disciples for the life of the world, about awakening us to our potential to act as God’s beloved friends in the ongoing establishment of the shalom—the peace, justice, and integrity of all things living in relationship and mutuality-- that God wove into the universe at its beginning. And now he entrusts that mission to us. Especially today.

As disciples of Jesus in the year of 2018, our situation is this: after Jesus’s bodily ascension, until Jesus’s coming again, we ARE the Body of Christ in the world. As Christ's Body in the world, we are not meant to "be in control" in an imperious, political sense any more than Jesus was "in control" in an imperious political sense. (Hint: that means "not at all.") Indeed, Jesus's refusal to be a political or military leader may have been the reason why some of his followers, including, famously, Judas, became disenchanted with him. We are meant to love, not compel. we are meant to be the Beloved Community-- a community that transcends national borders.

No, as Christ's Body in the world, we are called to literally embody his greatest commandment, which is repeatedly made very clear to us: to love all persons, and to love God, who dwells in all things. And loving one another is not about "lording it over one another," as Jesus reminded his disciples in Matthew 20:26.

Jesus promises the apostles the power of the Holy Spirit, and then he ascends into heaven, and that’s often where we get distracted. Right there with the apostles, we tend to focus on the image of Jesus flying up into heaven rather than think about what that leave-taking means. It’s a scene that has been depicted in art thousands of times over the centuries, by everyone from Donatello (the sculptor, not the teenage mutant ninja turtle) to Salvador Dali, in icons, and paintings, and reliefs and stained-glass windows. One of the weirdest ways to depict the scene shows only Christ’s feet dangling at the top edge of the scene, as if he were doing an Olympic high dive in the wrong direction.

But even the angels who suddenly appear at that moment remind us that focusing on looking upward is pointless, a hindrance to getting about the holy charge that Christ has placed upon us of witnessing to his truth in the world. It’s an awesome responsibility and an honor. It's a sign of how very much Jesus loves us that’s every bit as breathtaking as his laying down his life for us on the cross. Jesus loves us so much that, by the power of the Holy Spirit, he commissions each and every one of his followers to carry on his holy work of redemption, reconciliation, and healing into the world: to carry him and bear his image within ourselves for the sake of the world.

The question those angels ask is one that we need to hear today, too: "Why are you standing there looking up toward heaven?" And that may sound harsh—I imagine the apostles were once again feeling a sense of loss, and like most of us, didn’t want to tear their eyes away. But the Ascension does not represent Jesus’s leave-taking from the world. Rather, it represents a placing of the mantle upon our shoulders, and reminds us to redirect our orientation from receiving to giving.

Because we are not called just to watch and wonder. We are called to witness, and to love, not bully, as we do it.

Through our love—the love that we live, the love that we speak, the love that we advocate for the powerless and the marginalized—we are Christ in the world. Why are we looking up to heaven? Look within ourselves—Jesus is alive and well in our hearts and minds and souls whenever we live into the commandment to love and serve and honor each other.

Jesus speaks to all of us right here: “You will be my witnesses in St. Louis, in the hearts and the minds of our neighbors, and to the ends of the earth.”

What if we lived our lives as if we were the only representation of Jesus that others could know?

Because, often, we are.

Jesus’s ascension into heaven is not an end, but a beginning. It enables the true beginning of the Church being called to its mission to BE Christ’s body in the world.

The ascension of Christ into heaven does not mean that Christ is gone, or that Christ is remote, sitting enthroned in heaven and now aloof from our earthly concerns. Christ does not ever cease being incarnate, fully human as well as fully God. Yet his earthly ministry at the Ascension is translated into an act of true faith and trust in us as his followers. As the incarnate Son of God, Jesus reminds us all of the divine image that rests within us, and all that he teaches us is meant to call us into living into the beauty of that image, to remember God’s ongoing acts of creation within us.

The gift of the Ascension is the gift of true discipleship. It’s the gift of living into the image of God planted within us. It’s the gift of Christ placing the yoke squarely upon our shoulders--in proclaiming the life-giving gospel, in healing the sick and the sick-at-heart, in revealing God’s love visibly and tangibly in the world, through who we are and what we do as Christ’s representatives.

As Christians, we can’t spend our lives gazing upward to heaven- we've got things to do.

And we don’t need to, anyway. Christ is right here, within the hearts and spirits of those who seek to do his will in actions and words and attitudes both great and small. By his earthly example, Jesus modeled for us God's love and mercy that we all can emulate, even to our enemies, to those who set themselves against us. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, at his ascension Jesus empowers us to be a testimony to justice and peace, and to band together in the name of love, amity, and charity.

Take heart, Beloveds: Jesus, our Shepherd and Savior, is not gone. He abides in us and invites us to abide with him. He calls us to share in his priesthood by proclaiming mercy, reconciliation, and love throughout the world by our words and our deeds, and to serve the oppressed and the outcast for the glory of God.

“We will never change the world by going to church. We will only change the world by BEING the Church.”

Don’t just stand there, looking up. Look within—Jesus is there, sanctifying us to be his Body in the world. Alleluia!

Preached at Christ Church Cathedral on May 10, 2018, at 12:10 pm.

Readings:
Acts 1:11
Psalm 47
Ephesians 1:15-23
Luke 24:44-53

Prayer, day 1930: Ascension Day

(For Ascension Day)
Blessed Lord Jesus,
you are our Shepherd and Savior:
remember all those for whom
you lived and died and rose again.
Help us to spread your message
of love, service, sanctity, and compassion
throughout the world
by our words and our deeds.
Help us to be a testimony to justice and peace,
and bind us together
in the name of love, amity, and charity.
Send the Holy Spirit to empower us
to serve the weak and outcast
and to make disciples of all who seek you.
Through your example, let us unfailingly act
with love and mercy,
even to those who set themselves against us.
Let us always be witnesses to your truth,
and servants of your truth.
Lifting our eyes to heaven,
where you are enthroned in glory,
we lift our prayers and petitions before You, Lord Christ,
especially for those we now name.

Amen.
1581, 842

Prayer 1929: Trusting in God's Love

Holy God, Our Shield and Our Redeemer,
you have brought us in safety to this new day,
refreshed and renewed by the cool springs of rest,
shielded by the awning of your love and mercy.

May we guide each step today
by your reconciling, healing love, Blessed Savior,
that the world will know your healing presence
through our living witness--
through our care of each other
and of this good earth upon which we depend.

Spirit of the Living God,
lead us in paths of integrity and holiness,
growing in wisdom, faithfulness, and hope,
that our hearts may be filled with your compassion
and we proclaim our gratitude for your grace.

Lord Jesus, you share our fears and our sorrows,
our hopes and our joys:
may we abide within your loving embrace,
knowing that you walk alongside us with every step we take.
Have mercy on all who are in turmoil or danger, O God,
and give your angels charge over all who weep or worry,
especially those whose needs we lift before You.

Amen.

Prayer, day 1928: On the Feast Day of Dame Julian of Norwich

Holy One, your love makes all things new:
creation lifts its voice in praise,
and we rise to give you thanks: alleluia!
In tenderness and sweetness You have created us, O God:
may we live gladly this day to bring You honor.

O God, let us know well your meaning, your perfect wisdom incarnate,
that Christ is love, and we are in Christ.
May we trust in God forever,
assured that we will never be overcome,
though tempests rage about us and travails ensnare us.
For we begin and end in the love in which You bore us, Lord Christ:
as our Mother you bear us for joy and life unending.

Holy Spirit, confirm us in love and hope
as we pray for mercy and compassion
to guide us this day,
and grant us peace.

Amen.
1564

Prayer 1927: Being Good Seed (Matthew 13:1-16)

O Love Above All Loves,

we are borne aloft by your abiding love:
may we sing out your worship all the day long.
May our prayers and praises rise to You,
O Almighty Creator,
who sustains us in tenderness and mercy.

God of Joy,
we celebrate the thrum and pulse of the Earth beneath our feet,
the insistent reminder of your ongoing creation,
and of your embracing us with your abundant love.
Bring us to a deeper knowledge and obedience
of your call to us to care for creation
and care for each other.
Send us forth into the world,
scattered like good seed on fertile, faithful ground,
that we may produce an abundant harvest
of joy, justice, and peace.

Gather us to your bosom, O God,
and sow your blessing within our hearts.
Bless and keep all who seek You,
we humbly pray.

Amen.
829, adapted

Love Without Limits: Sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year B

A couple of weeks ago, a beautiful story made its way around the internet. In April, Pope Francis was visiting with the children of a working-class parish in Rome. The children took turns asking the pope questions. One little boy, probably about 7 or 8, however, lost his nerve when he approached the microphone, and he started to cry. So the pope urged the little boy to come up to him and whisper his question. Pope Francis embraced him and they spoke to each other in whispers, and then the little boy returned to his seat. The Pope then said the little boy, named Emanuele, had given his permission for the Pope to share what was troubling him.

The little boy’s father had recently died, and had been a non-believer. However, even though a non-believer, he had had his four children baptized, and had been a good man and a beloved father. The boy’s tears for his father, which the Pope characterizes as “brave,” proved that Emanuele’s father had been a good person.

“Is my father in heaven?” the little boy worried.

“The one who decides who goes to heaven is God,” the Pope explained. “But what is God’s heart like with a dad like that? What? What do you think?” he asked the crowd of schoolchildren. He paused. “A Father’s heart. God has a dad’s heart. And with a dad who was not a believer, but who baptized his children, and gave his children that courage, do you think God would leave him far from himself? Do you think? Speak up, with courage.”

The crowd murmured, “No!”

“Does God abandon his children?” the Pope continued.

“No!” the crowd responded, stronger this time.

“Does God abandon his children when they are good?”

“No!” came the immediate response.

“There, Emanuele, is your answer,” the Pope said, looking at the little boy now in his seat. “God surely was proud of your father because it is easier as a believer to baptize your children than when you are not a believer. Surely this pleased God very much.”

The pope makes an important point here. We humans are the ones who try to limit and create barriers—and we are really good at doing that, even in the Church. In doing this, we diminish God and try to control God’s grace. This tends dangerously toward the original sin of Adam and Eve—of deciding that we know better than God does.This story has captured the hearts of thousands—especially those who have been told they are outside the circle of salvation because of some reason—whatever it is, it’s based on others’ judgment of sinfulness.

The Episcopal Church is certainly not immune to this kind of exclusionary thinking, either, Three years ago, when we last encountered these readings, national news picked up the story of a controversy over baptism that came out of the Diocese of Central Florida. Two men who were parishioners at the diocesan cathedral there in Orlando adopted a little boy, and of course wanted him to be baptized. However, at the last minute the baptism was postponed when some complained about baptizing the child of two gay men. Eventually, the baby WAS baptized—but the irony of this situation coming up at the same time we hear our lectionary readings decry denying baptism to anyone was not lost on many of us.

The question both the eunuch and Peter ask still obviously has relevance for today. For years, now, many denominations been wrestling with a much shorter version of Peter’s question: Who can deny baptism to those who ask (or in this case, whose parents ask)? How do we know that THIS incident isn’t the Holy Spirit moving among us?

The image the pope used in helping the children imagine God was that of a loving parent—a loving father, in this case, especially since that was what young Emanuele was missing most. In our gospel today, Jesus too, speaks of God as a father, one whose love is unfailing. “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love.”

This is a continuation of last week’s discussion about the vine. The fruit of the vine is love. The least mysterious thing about the mystery of the Trinity as we see it in our readings today is that love binds Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is a sacred dance: God loves Jesus, and Jesus loves God enough to come to us, and the Spirit empowers us through love to participate in the life of God Godself. We are drawn into that dance also through being loved and by loving. We are bound up in love with God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, which allows us to share in God’s will through our obedience to God’s commandments. And, as Jesus reminds us repeatedly through the gospels, the greatest commandment is love.

Thus, Jesus again gives the disciples “his” commandment: That we love each other as Jesus has loved us. Yet this commandment isn’t all that “new:” This wording is very similar to that John 13:34-35, where Jesus says, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Jesus then explains what this means: that we be willing to lay down our lives for our friends—and that includes Jesus as well as each other. We have been chosen by Jesus, not the other way around, and made the friends of Jesus by his sharing his knowledge of God with us, and then trusting us to use that knowledge to help establish God’s kingdom on earth. Jesus models his love for us in being willing to lay down his life for HIS friends- us. And perhaps “friend” is too mild of a word—in Greek, philos can better be translated as “loved one.” This is awe-inspiring- that each one of us continue to be loved and treasured by our living, risen Savior, who continues to live in each of us and in the Church—especially in our better moments. And when we fail, we are still loved, and strengthened to start again.

Our gospel makes it clear that that God’s victory is not won through might, or force, but through LOVE. And embodying that love that we receive from us is how we bear good fruit as branches of Jesus the True Vine. As Peter and the other disciples experienced in the Book of Acts, God’s Spirit of Love obeys no human limitations. The abundance of this love calls us to a life of courage allow the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Love, to move within our lives and help us break down those barriers to which we cling, barriers that we think will make us feel safe—but often only leave us feeling more alienated and isolated than ever.

Most of us have faced failures to love and to be loved at times in our lives, yet Jesus embodies a love that never fails. God’s love for us abides within us, and seeks to flip the poles of our existence that we can then not just mirror but embody God’s love in the world. And this IS possible, because we are loved and chosen specifically by being made in the image of God. In addition, we have the example and teachings of Jesus to remind us of WHO we really are, and to whom we really belong- not as servants, but as loved ones who, knowing how much we are loved, ourselves are willing to risk much by loving much.

The Spirit of Love still moves where she will, urging us to the knowledge that God shows no partiality. Our Risen Savior breathes the Spirit upon us so that we can bear Christ into the world as true disciples. My UCC friends have a slogan: God is still speaking.

God’s revelation to us did not end 2000 years ago on a cross, or even 400 years later when the Bible was assembled. Revelation of who God is and what love God calls us to continues, even today. One of the problems with the Biblical literalism that often undergirds is based on is that it denies the agency of God through the Holy Spirit in our lives today. And too often that outlook tries to draw bright lines about who is in, and who is out, who is a child of God and who is not, who is worthy of the name of “children of God”—and who is not. It also fossilizes Christ as a figure from the past who lived 2000 years ago but not now. It denies the ongoing power of the Holy Spirit to break through our knowledge to new understanding of who God is and who God calls us to be.

We are an Easter people. We proclaim a living, risen Savior. Either we believe that Jesus lives, and that the Holy Spirit was sent to us to continue to reveal who God is to us, or we deny a whole chunk of the Christian witness, then and certainly now.

Who decides—God, or us? Who are WE to deny baptism to anyone who asks? Who are we to limit God’s action and put fences around grace? Jesus reminds us again in our gospel that our lives are meant to be lived for others and for God, grounded in love. If we spend our lives worrying about whether we ourselves will get to heaven in the next life, we end up with our priorities going the wrong direction. We spend our lives then concerned about ourselves, rather than about others or about God.

Ultimately, it’s not up to us who goes to heaven, as the Pope pointed out. As we have heard repeatedly throughout the witness of scripture, God’s mercy is broader than our mercy. We can’t earn our way into salvation. Rather, salvation is rooted right here, right now. The kingdom of heaven is becoming—right now, right where we are. As disciples, we are called to the joy of working toward that kingdom, toward reconciliation, toward justice and mercy intertwined that leads to true peace. The fruitfulness we produce is a life lived grounded in love, which means directed outward to others. This is the life God has created all of us to live, since we are all children of God—you, me, Emanuele, and Emanuele’s father and even the Pope.

We are known as Christians by our love—by the fruit we produce to build up the kingdom of God, whose foundation in love. As Pope Francis pointed out, the fruit of the father’s life that we had before us in this short episode showed a life grounded in love, especially in love for his children that lives on in his children. That’s why the Pope calls him a good man. His life was fruitful, even if not formally grounded in faith.

Pope Francis reassured Emanuele and all of us that God never gives up on us. The witness of scripture throughout time is that God never gives up on us even though at times we may waver and give up on God. Again and again, we all fall short of doing what we ought to do. We embrace doing things that we shouldn’t that harm our relationship with others-- and with God.

God is not done with us yet, nor is God done revealing who God is in the world. As our psalm reminds us, we are called to sing a NEW song because God IS doing new things, right before our eyes. God is calling us to actually live into the words we profess, especially during Easter, that Christ IS Risen, and that God’s love never fails. Can we open our minds to the possibility that what we say is true, and that God is alive and active in the world? And then can we live that for others, for love’s sake?

As the old song goes, there’s a wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea. That mercy manifests itself in God’s repeated pursuit of us, even when—especially when—we stray from obedience to God’s command to love. God chooses us as beloveds of God; as the Pope reminded young Emanuele, and God’s love will not admit defeat. And Alleluia for that!

Amen.

Readings:
Acts 10:44-48
Psalm 98
1 John 5:1-6
John 15:9-17

Links/References:
The story of Pope Francis and Emanuele can be found in many places, including at America Magazine: https://www.americamagazine.org/faith/2018/04/16/my-dad-heaven-little-boy-asks-pope .
Helpful commentary about the theology of the Pope's remarks is found here: https://www.americamagazine.org/faith/2018/04/19/was-pope-francis-right-tell-child-his-atheist-dad-may-be-heaven .

Video of the encounter:

Photos:
(1) Pope Francis comforts Emanuele, from America Magazine.
(2) Jesus blesses the children, Greek icon.
(3) Psalm 139:1-2 illustration.
(4) Banner carried during march in St. Louis, October, 2014, by Leslie Scoopmire.

Prayer 1926: The Sixth Sunday of Easter

O God, we gather before you in prayer and worship,
drawn before You in love.
As we rise from our beds and journey to your altar, O Creator,
let us sing to the Lord a new song,
for God is doing marvelous things!

May we rejoice in your commandment of love, Blessed Savior,
and serve God and each other in gentleness and hope.
Make us a priestly people,
guided and anointed by the power of the Holy Spirit,
that we may serve God and each other
for the life of the world.

Trusting in your abundant grace,
O Creator and Redeemer,
we ask your blessing upon those needs that weigh upon our hearts.
Envelop your children in a cloud of comfort, O God,
and place your hand upon those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer, day 1925: Morning praise

Almighty God,
your glory fills the eastern skies
as we rise to take up our lives in You.

Let us clothe ourselves in obedience to your greatest commandment,
which is to love each other.
We turn our eyes, hearts, and hands to you
as we gather before you in prayer.

We thank you, praise you, and bless you
as the source of our strength and wellspring of our hope.

Help us to draw upon your love
as we move through the arc of this day
and tend to your creation with care.

We ask your blessing upon those for whom we pray this day.

Amen.
112

Prayer 1924: Inspired by Matthew 7:1-12

God of Mercy, God of Grace,
You have kept watch over us with tenderness
throughout the hours of the night,
and we awaken secure within your protection:
All our thanks and praise we offer before You.

Help us see clearly with generous and forgiving hearts, O Redeemer,
remembering the abundant grace that we receive,
the foundation of our life in You.
In your mercy, guide us, O God, in faithfulness and love,
that we renounce the leanness of spirit
that leads us toward selfishness and inaction
in the face of suffering and want.
Help us to treat each other with love, generosity, and kindness,
as we ourselves hope to be treated,
dedicating ourselves to the Gospel of Love.

Spirit of the Living God,
strengthen us in wisdom, hope, and faith,
that our lives testify to God’s wondrous acts throughout creation.
Beloved Savior,
breathe your spirit of healing and reconciliation upon us,
and place the seal of your blessing in those we now name.

Amen.

Prayer 1923: God's eye is on the sparrow

(Matthew 6:25-34)
Most Merciful God,
our awakening spirits give you thanks and praise,
and we rise from your rest secure in your embrace.

The Earth is illumined with the glory of God:
You adorn the dogwoods with a lacy veil,
and the forsythia glow with golden joy at your coaxing;
the canopy of pine and oak enclose a cathedral choir
as all the Earth sings out your praise, O Creator.

Your eye is upon the sparrow and hummingbird, O God,
you brood over the Earth like a hen over her nest,
and gather all safely within your care:
we are secure and comforted upon your breast,
and soothed by your steadfast love.

You spread your mighty wings, O Holy One
to shield and shade us in our need,
and nourish us in wisdom that we may grow in your ways,
upheld by your unending love and compassion.

Spirit of the Living God,
pour out your comfort over all who turn to You in need:
relieve the suffering, and dry the tear of those who mourn.
Lord Jesus, lead us in paths of healing and mercy,
and grant your blessing over those we remember before You.

Amen.

Photo: Yesterday, our beloved Brinkley (on the left) passed away: I was blessed to be able to sit with him for an hour and a half and remind him of what a good boy he is.

Prayer 1922: For the beauty of the Earth

Creator of the Universe,
your hands have molded stars and galaxies
in all their glory,
and also this small redbud blossom
that dances and shivers in the breeze.
It too is glorious,
and soon will carpet the earth in beauty,
making way for the heart-shaped leaves
that will canopy over our heads,
glowing with resurrection light,
offering luxurious shade and refuge:
in all things offering praise to You, O God.

It is the time of the greening of the Earth:
may our spirits also be revived by your abundant love,
that we may rest in your embrace, Lord Christ,
and breathe out our prayers with the morning breeze,
secure in your lovingkindness,
grateful that you call us beloved.

Spirit of Holiness, envelop us and mold us,
that we be set on fire to do the work of love,
sustained by the beauty
You have spread before us like a banquet,
putting our hands and hearts to the cause of peace.

Let us place our hearts within your peace.
Let us pause for a while in contentment,
grateful for the wonders You have created,
O Rising Light, O Blessed Trinity,
knowing that you sustain our hearts and minds
in all our journeying and our resting.

Merciful God, Lover of Our Souls,
we place all our cares and all our loves within your hands,
and humbly ask You to set your benediction and healing
over all for whom we pray.

Amen.

For Where Your Treasure Is, There Your Heart Will Be Also: Speaking to the Soul, May 2, 2018

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”—Matthew 6:21

For many months while I was in seminary, I went every week to visit a parishioner who was homebound. I would bring her communion right after worship, and we would sit and talk about her life, her husband, her love of sports cars, art, her collection of classical music, or little snippets of poetry from whatever she was currently reading. Sometimes we would just sit for a moment in silence, before we would share bread and cup brought straight from the altar of our parish.

We often sat facing a window that overlooked a community garden, and there were bird feeders on poles, wreathed with flowers that changed depending upon the season: first the daffodils, which then subsided to tulips, which then subsided to iris with a backdrop of lilac, which then subsided to gladiolas and lilies. As we would sit and savor our companionship, a goldfinch or wren might swoop into view, grabbing a seed from the bird feeder and then darting away to perch on some leaf or pole which working assiduously to open the shell to get to the kernel. Our gazes would rest upon the scene, and she would turn to me, with her blue-gray eyes shining, and whisper, “Isn’t that marvelous?” with the delight of a person fully content.

I am thinking about my friend today as I sit in my garden and watch the birds at my own feeders dash about like mad. I am able for a few minutes to be at rest while they swoop in and out, in search of food, in search of water, in search of materials to reinforce their nests. Yet they sing with joy at their work, and I think, “That’s the way I want to be when I work. And isn’t it marvelous?”

It is at last that season of the year when I am able to sit amongst the plants on the hillside in my backyard, and simply tune my senses to what is going on around me for a few moments as I pause in the otherwise busy day. The hostas are unfurling and uncurling with a determination that will not be denied. You can feel the vibration of earthworms as they slide into view to escape the water that has puddled around the emerging fiddleheads of ferns. The temperatures finally are above 60 degrees, and there is a breeze in the air that stirs the cathedral bell chimes hanging from the boughs of the pine, providing the bass and the middle to the joyful sounds of the birds all around me. Remembering that friendship that was so dear, I carry the memory of my friend into this moment right now, and her joy and wonder in simple things, her rootedness and contentment in each moment as we sat together.

I breathe, and listen to the birdsong, and the chimes, and the slough of new leaves rubbing against each other as a gust of wind brings them together. Sometimes my busy minds tries to count or categorize the different types of birdsong I hear, but I try to shut down that striving part of my mind and just enjoy being in the center of such a symphony of sound. “Oh, hey, it’s only 75 degrees, and my neighbor’s air conditioner just clicked on,” I think, and then immediately realize I am doing it again. Back, back, mind. Be at rest, and be content. My friend treasured simple moments in her heart, and reminds me still to do the same.

Too often I get caught up in the concerns and petty annoyances of everyday life. I allow myself to put my focus on things which do not generate a sense of peace, but rather a sense of anxiety. And I know I am not alone. We are programmed to respond instinctually to a sense of scarcity, to a sense that we are somehow being at rest places us at a disadvantage. We are too eager for distraction, too afraid we will miss some peak experience or some bit of news.

But my time with my friend showed me that rare gift of contentment and wonder that is so easy to lose. She treasured each moment, and that was where her heart was. She responded with joy to little things of beauty that could easily be overlooked. And though she has been gone for over a year, I remember her and feel like I am sitting with her again, enjoying the industry of the dun-colored sparrow, watching a redbud bloom flutter to the ground to make way for a tiny, heart-shaped leaf that will soon join with her fellows to provide a cool green canopy all summer long. This is a moment I will treasure in my heart. And isn’t it marvelous?

(This essay was first published at Episcopal Cafe's Speaking to the Soul on May 2, 2018.)

Prayer 1921

Gracious and Merciful God,
Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer,
we rise from our rest to give You praise,
You who have guarded us in tenderness
through the watches of the night.

Our lips pour forth the praise of God,
whose mercy and love endure forever!
You are our light and our hope, O Lover of Souls:
may we seek to walk in your paths
and set our shoulders to the wheel of peace and justice today.
Burnish our hearts, Lord Christ,
that they may reflect your wisdom and truth,
and give light to all who seek You.

Guide the hands of doctors and nurses
as they use the wisdom You have given them
to bring about relief
and aid the work of recovery.
Comfort all who are in distress, O Holy One,
and pour the balm of your healing over those who are ill,
we humbly pray.

Bless all who call out to You, O Nurturing Spirit,
and gather within your mercy and respite
all those for whom we pray.

Amen.