Audio – 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.

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).

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. 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?

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.