journaling – Writing to Pray

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.

16th Sunday, OT 2019

Abraham and Martha

I strive to be the hostess with the mostess, as people come to visit me in me new town and me new apartment. Some seem to think I’m anxious and attempt to reassure me. “It’s all good… you don’t have to try so hard… I just want to hang out with you,” they say. But I’m not worried about my company having a good time— I’m excited they have come and want them to have the best time ever.

I like to think, with my effort to plan favorite foods and things to do, that I’m a hostess rather like Abraham serving his guests in today’s first reading. Abraham and Martha are doing the same things, and together, offer a beautiful either or.

We generally understand the either-or of Mary and Martha … to do or to be … to listen or to serve. Through the washing of the feet at the Last Supper, Jesus is crystal clear about the importance of serving others. This suggests, perhaps, when He says to Martha, “Mary has taken the better part,” He is pointing out Mary’s contentment, peace and joy in contrast to Martha’s worry, resentment and pettiness.

According to the archeologists of Time Team, in the Middle Ages, in addition to caring for the sick, hospitals also served as hostels and hotels: they looked after those traveling or on pilgrimage. It strikes me these two groups of folks are very similar in a spiritual way, for every illness seems a sort of journey, and every journey carries an element of vulnerability, often physical. Who among us does not find needed restoration and healing from normal wear and tear when greeted with our favorite food and drink, smiles and kind words?

Unlike Martha, Abraham’s joy and enthusiasm, hope and liveliness cascade off him in ripples as he serves and waits on his guests. I wonder, “Does he know he’s welcoming the Lord and/or His messenger?” The word enthusiasm, which Abraham embodies perfectly, comes from Latin, en theo or in God. God encourages us, through the example of His friend, Abraham, to go over the top, to pull out all the spots and to travel the extra mile for our guests, whether stranger or friend. Like Abraham, are we not welcoming the Lord Himself?

To Journal About:

1. I recount a time when I was a traveler and a stranger helped me. I also remember a time when I was ill and needed looking after. I then compare and constrast these two different situations.
2. How do I evaluate my efforts when I play hostess? What changes might I make if I remember it ’tis the Lord visiting me?

14-15th Sunday in OT

Neighbors and Internal Peace

I met a Congregational minister the other day as I was leaving work; we stood in the parking lot for a solid twenty minutes talking about this and that. She said in reference to her job, “It’s the best job in the world; all’s I have to do is love people. That’s it!” Me too, I had said. I work as an Activities Specialist serving those with Dementia. My job is to know, listen and pay attention to folks, to bring joy, love and peace where possible.

But even loving people all day long ain’t a cake-walk. It’s too easy to become absorbed in intentional or accidental insults or dismissals; personal insecurities and anxieties creep and/or leap into word, deed and perception.

My mom used to say that while the compromising and negotiating required in an intimate relationship is not a breeze, when we live alone, we are super susceptible to self-absorption, selfishness and self-centeredness. As I have lived alone most of my life, she used to advise me to put myself into situations in which I was compelled by circumstances to think of others not myself.

This week’s gospel reading, the parable of the Good Samaritan, led me to reflect on Mom’s words. When I started to analyze the time and energy I spent on self verses other as an either/or I was appalled and embarrassed at the imbalance.

I’ve begun to intentionally recalibrate this equation. I encourage myself to ask, “What’s going on for Suzy-Q? How is God present here? Is there anything merciful or compassionate I could be doing to help?” Considering these questions brings me more peace and joy then crossed-eyed, near-sighted, navel gazing.

In last week’s gospel Jesus promises internal peace, but perhaps this is not possible if one is not focused on others to a greater degree than on oneself. What do you think?

Journal Questions:

1. What is the current proportion between time and attention I give to myself vs. others?
2. What could or might I do to shift the balance?
3. I will return to this journal topic in a few weeks to discuss the impact of any changes I’ve made.

Theology within English Grammar

I was shocked at the age of 50, despite having taken a plethora of courses for my BA in English eons ago, to learn that our language does not have a future tense. According to the Cambridge Grammar of the English Language, the word we assume and use to indicate a future tense, will, does not behave as it should, but rather acts like a mood marker and is thought to specifically signal the hypothetical.

You might argue, if I use a word to indicate the future, then that is what it does, however, our language seems to instinctually understand we simply cannot know the future. Any plan, intention or expectation for a future occurrence is never certain. For example, I might say, “I will take out the garbage… it’ll rain… you’ll have a great time when you visit.” These are indeed hypothetical: a million things could prevent them from coming to pass. In fact, all that can go wrong in the course of a day causes most of us significant anxiety and we put great effort into steering our ship so our desired future is more likely.

But we are not each a universe of one. Other people, with their attitudes, motivations, preoccupations, often derail, interrupt, and interfere with our clock-work precise plans. Conflicting agendas abound. Very frustrating …

… but then I remember we together comprise The Body of Christ, the Church. The Lord has counted the hairs on annoying people’s heads and knows their hearts and souls as well as He knows mine. I do not know the invitations He has issued to them. I have no clue as to the options, potentials, hypotheticals which might spring into my life as a result of their response, their acceptance or rejection of His Love and Gifts.

With the Lord at our side, witnessing the unfolding of hypotheticals can be rather like watching a draw bridge open when we did not realize that that piece of road could swing and shift, rotate and be moved.

Reflection Exercises:

- - With a three or 5 minute time-limit, jot down your hopes for your future.
  - Then return to the list, asking yourself, if it is a hypothetical, what other possibilties or options may surface. Write about each in turn.
  - Finally, reflect on how you feel after reframing your future as a hypothetical.

Fourth Sunday in Lent 2019

Three stand-alone explorations sprung forth from the parable of the prodigal son and on notions of home

Thought 1: The Prodigals

The Prodigal Son is referred to as such because, as the first definition of the word prodigal indicates, he has recklessly and wastefully squandered his share of the inheritance. He returns home, but we do not call him the Homecoming Son. He confesses to his father, “I have sinned against Heaven and against you,” but we do not call him the Repentant Son.

He remains to us as the static Prodigal Son. We do not know if the repentance-inspired transformation is permanent, or if it fades as his belly fills. This detail is not overly important.

But this parable contains a Prodigal Father, as well, which is noteworthy.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the second definition of the word means having or giving something on a lavish scale. Our Prodigal Father offers grand-scale forgiveness, a lavish banquet, an over-the-top welcome home, while the Prodigal Son personifies gluttony, greed, and selfishness.

So today, will I be the Prodigal Son or the Prodigal Father?

Reflection Questions for Journaling

1. 1. When I am prodigal, as in wastefully extravagant, what do I over-do? Because prodigal also means to have or give lavishly, I also ask, what is it I do and/or give lavishly?
  2. The prodigal son came home because he was hungry, but this parable is also the story of our spiritual home-coming. So, I might ask myself, what do I hunger for?

Thought 2: What Comes First

The Prodigal Son’s home-coming reminded me, early people had no homes. In modern-day Turkey, there is a pre-pottery Neolithic site, Gobekli-Tepe, 11,000 years old, at which there is archeological evidence of religious belief. The site was inhabited before the domestication of plants and animals, before people ever established homes. “It may be that because so many people were gathered at this site— creating stone rings, carving the standing stones, and so on— that greater supplies of food were needed” (Archaeology, National Geographic & Great Courses, 2016). This lead to the domestication of plants and animals, which lead to the establishment of fixed abodes.

While we do not know what beliefs they were seeking to express, we know their desire and need to express them was their number one priority, superseding other concerns (such as the available food supply).

Could it be that expression of religious belief is so innate, instinctual, primary, and fundamental to our existence that it must come before we address our other needs? How does this play out, here and now, for you and I?

Reflection Questions for Journaling

1. 1. Putting aside my actual religious beliefs, for a moment, how does the need to express them impact, guide or shape my life?
  2. What have been some of the results or consequences of my expressions of religious belief?

Thought 3: A Little Story of Sisterhood

I’d never been on the floor before; it was my first day of a new job. I stepped off the elevator and onto the memory care unit. A woman ran up to me, huge grin on her face, beaming, “How have you been! I’ve been waiting for you; it’s been an age!” Before I could say anything in reply, she told all those around us, “This is my sister! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you!”

There’s a saying, a stranger is a friend not yet met. Therefore, if I follow Christ, a stranger is simply a sister or brother I’ve not met yet. The Lord’s home is Heaven, which makes it our home too, so should I not greet everyone as if I were welcoming my brother or sister, friend or stranger, home and into Heaven? It’s something to strive for, certainly.

Reflection Questions for Journaling

- - - Do I greet others as if I am welcoming home a long-lost friend or relative?