19th Sunday; OT 2019

From time to time the subject of faith pops up in coversation and I hear someone say, “I just can’t say I believe it all. I want to. And I try to be good, do good. But I just don’t know if I really have faith.” I remember in high school, I wasn’t sure either, so I made an appointment to talk to our priest, who said, “Faith is a gift, abgrace given by God. Not everyone is given the gift.” I was crushed, what, the Lord decided not to give me any faith? You got it or you don’t? Talk about haves and have-nots, but maybe that’s a consumer-society spin and not the Lord’s perception or intention. 

What strikes me as I ponder and pray about Sunday’s readings is what the word faith lacks … it has no verb form. Faith is only a noun. We can’t be caught faithing, nor have we faithed in the past. Given the emphasis in scripture on God’s creative movement in the world, the Holy Spirit’s power to animate, and Jesus’ saving actions through the Passion, the word seems inaccurately flat and inactive. 

The word faith, if followed back to its earliest form, comes from the Proto-Indo-European word bheidh meaning to trust, confide, persuade. This suggests, by default, if I have faith I should have confidence and be capable of persuading others to believe as I do. A bit daunting; easy to fail at such a task and doubt one’s strength of conviction. 

The word belief (bileave) is similar, confidence reposed in a person or thing; faith in a religion. It replaced the Old English word geleafa, stemming from a root word meaning to care, desire, love, and a prefix which acted as an intensifier. Caring and loving an idea or understanding dearly and intensely is something we do and intuitively, is a bit more in line with the passionate creativity of the Lord. The word trust or traust, a conceptual cousin from Old Norse and Proto-Germanic means help and confidence, protection and support, comfort and consolation. 

Walking around these synonyms for the word faith suggest new questions, leading me to ask myself, do I trust God to protect, care for and comfort me? Do I share His Word and the doctrine to help and console others? Do I protect this doctrine, this Word which I say I have faith in and believe? Do I care about, love and desire it to be true? Do I live as if it is true?

Geleafa and traust — helping and protecting, loving and caring deeply, comforting and consoling — are actions which the Lord performs for His people, and which we are called on to do for others. But that’s not all; we must do the same for the doctrine and Word as well.

 

Reflection Questions:

    • Do I trust God to protect, help and comfort me? 
    • Do I share His Word and doctrine to comfort and console others? Do I protect this doctrine, this Word, that I say I have faith in and believe? 
    • Do I care about, love and desire it to be true? Do I live as if it is true?

 

References:

Online Etymology Dictionary, Douglas Harper. 2001-2019. Accessed on 8/11/19 for the origins of the words faith, hope, trust, belief.

 

© 2019 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved

18th Sunday in OT 2019

Herding the Wind

Modern translations read, “Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth, vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity!” Hebrew scholar, Robert Alter, however, translates these words differently. (The first audio link is a recording of his translation (1)). “Merest breath, said Qohelet, merest breath. All is mere breath.” This is very concrete imagery to the temporary, intangible nature of existence. “What gain is there for a man in all his toil…” he then asks. Perhaps Qohelet is legitimately seeking answers, but he seems to me instead to be looking for others to attend his pity party. But, who can blame him? We have all been there before, wondering the point of it all, haven’t we?

Verse 8 suggests man is never satisfied, and our author certainly appears to be voicing discontentment. Before he also dismisses the wisdom and knowledge he has been striving to obtain as useless frivolity, he says, “I have seen all the deeds that are done under the sun and look, all is mere breath, and herding the wind.” But, who among us has not attempted to do things as ridiculous as herding the wind? Do we not become a bit depressed and anxious when we either fail altogether or figure out we were not thinking rationally?

In truth, a bit of biblical basics and verses 4-11 can offer hope for our Qohelet inspired existential angst. These verses, and Robert Alter’s footnotes, beautifully express the repetitive and cyclical nature of life on Earth. We have a bit of a negative attitude towards repetition; “Here we go again!” We sigh, but Robert Alter’s books, The Art of Biblical Poetry and The Art of Biblical Narrative teach us a powerful new way to understand repetition. Sacred texts do repeat themselves, but with each reiteration something is added or left out.

The Lord states through both Jeremiah and Ezekiel that He will write the law in or on our hearts. This makes each of our lives a sort of sacred text. I don’t know about you, but mine seems to sport lots of repetitions. When I notice a situation looks similar, I would be wise to ask, “What’s missing and what’s been added?” It is through paying attention to these differences, these cracks, that I can trace the Lord’s presence in my life and notice how He continues to co-create me through reforming and transforming my heart and head.

 

Reflection Questions for Journaling:

      • I will list and reflect on 4 or 5 recent examples from my life of my efforts to ‘herd the wind.’ 
      • In which recent experiences have I said to myself, “Here we go again.” While this situation seems to be a repeat, what’s been added or subtracted from the previous renditions?

 

1- Alter, Robert, The Wisdom Books. WW Norton & Company, New York, 2010. Qohelet (Ecclesiastes).

 

© 2019 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved

17th Sunday in OT 2019

Like a Dog with a Prayer-Bone

Sunday’s first reading, the narrative of Abraham begging the Lord to save Sodom if He can find but 50… 10… 5 righteous people, has been amusing me all week. Abraham’s blind persistence is touchingly comedic; he just won’t let it go! Our dog with a bone! 

It is easy, too easy to draw parallel lines between Sodom and our current society. So, thinking instead of the perpendicular and intersecting lines leads me to ponder, “Where am I in this story?” I am probably somewhere in a tower smack in the middle of Sodom enjoying my craft brew, looking at the street below full of crazy people. Am I wise to the fact of an Abraham begging to the Lord to show me mercy?

Dollar to donuts, those of you reading or listening to this reflection petition the Lord daily on behalf of someone who has no clue you are praying for them. And likewise, no matter how great you think your doing someone is probably  praying for you. And you may be thinking, “They should spend their prayers on those in need, not waste them on me. I’m terrific.” 

And isn’t this sort of a double-blind prayer circle an incredible thing!? I wonder, Who is interceding for me? Because I’m rather self-absorbed and small-minded, I am betting they are asking the Lord for something wiser than I would be asking for myself. In other words, what we pray for for ourselves does not necessarily sync with what the Lord or others may know we need. I’m sure the folks down in Sodom would not have asked for themselves what Abraham prayed for on their behalf. 

We remember easily that the Lord decided to give Abraham decedents as numerous as the stars, but that does not appear to have been Abraham’s prayer for himself. No, he’s not praying for himself, but rather, for Sodom. Likewise, perhaps things here would be better if we did not ask the Lord for this or that on our own behalf, but accepted that our spiritual well-being is better left to the Lord and others. And instead, conversely, spent our prayer time considering others and their needs. 

 

Questions for Reflection:

      1. How much time do I spend praying for my own self vs. others? Might I make any changes? 
      2. In a few weeks time, after implementing some changes, I might ask myself, what sort of movement do I notice within me as I pray more for others and less for my own self-perceived needs. 
      3. What changes have occuried in connection to the people or situations I have been praying for? 

 

© 2019 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved

Ash Wednesday 2019

In Ash Wednesday’s gospel reading, Jesus offers instruction on prayer. 

There are times when I pray because I’m in desperate need of some major help! I’m ill-equipped to handle the tasks before me, missing vital information, or am simply overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of thoughts and ideas, to-dos and demands. 

Occasionally, however, the Lord throws me into a situation I perceive to be beyond human help; He asks me to do something akin to leveling mountains and straightening curvy pathways. “Lord,” I so often ask, “Why ever did You plunk me down into the middle of this mess? What are You thinking?”

Because Lent is a call to prayer, it is also a invitation to evaluate and understand these difficult circumstances. Only in solitude can I develop the interior disposition of single-minded and single-hearted attention to the Lord. This internal default is essential if I am to notice His Intervention in these impossible situations, and perhaps this witnessing of the Lord’s Presence is why He’s asked me to be there too. 

The Holy Spirit is waiting to open my eyes, to feed me with insight and intuition, to dazzle me with the Light of His Presence, but if I am to truly see, I must first discover Him in the dark … I must go to my room. 

 

Reflection Questions for Journaling:

      1. Do I need to develop or change the space in which I sit alone with the Lord every day? Have I set aside specific time and developed a prayer routine?
      2. What circumstances in my life do I pray for out of need for personal help? 
      3. What situations do I pray for because I perceive it requires essential transformation at bedrock? (In other words, the situation needs help beyond a human fix.) Do I notice the Divine Intervention in Motion? How might I become a better witness? 

© 2019 Marilyn MacArthur, all rights reserved