Ash Wednesday

Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.
-- from "Ash Wednesday" by T. S. Eliot

How can I sit still?
Endure the relentless, internal chatter?
The chatter that says,
"Do more!"
"Achieve more!"

How can I embrace the Mystery...
Or be embraced by the Mystery
When I'm so busy
Running from place to place...
and from myself (and God!)?

Appropriate caring;
Appropriate activity;
Appropriate not caring;
Appropriate stillness;
Balance!

The elusive, dynamic fullness
that comes from emptiness.

Not striving to be so
Full of stuff, so
Full of self.

Another Lent -- a few days to
Repent.
Reflect.
Reorient.
Return.

While I've been busy.
God's been waiting to teach me
To care.
To not care.
To sit still.

Forty days.
So long.
So short.
I hope I'm ready
To (re)learn my lessons.

For the Last Sunday after the Epiphany

Proclaim the greatness of the Lord our God and worship him upon his holy hill.
For the Lord our God is the Holy One.
Psalm 99:9

Some people are "mountain people" and others "ocean folks". I've lived in the mountains (while in college) and by the seashore (before and after seminary). And, I confess, I'm one of those people who finds something irresistible in the allure of mountains. There's a certain majesty, timelessness and solidity about mountains. From their pinnacles one can both see the grand vistas of the valley below during the daytime and experience the vastness of space above during the night. No wonder mountains, throughout all cultures, become places revered as sacred meeting places between humanity and the Divine.

All of the lessons for today reverberate with the themes of God's presence on the "holy mountain" in the narrative of salvation history.

When Moses went up to the summit of Sinai to receive the Law of God, the smoky cloud of God's glory covered the mountaintop. There Moses received the "Ten Words" (Commandments). Upon his return to the camp from that first commandment-giving session, Moses discovered the people had crafted an idol for themselves (the Golden Calf). In anger, Moses throws down the stone tablets, destroying them. The lesson for this Sunday tells the story of Moses' second return to the Israelites from conversing with God again on Sinai (Exodus 34:29-35). This time, however, the people not only receive the tablets of God's Law, but Moses' face shines as it reflects God's glory. This "shining face" frightens the people (apparently God's holiness has that effect -- remember the story of Isaiah in the Temple last week?). And so, in deference to their fear, Moses veils his face when speaking with the people so they are shielded from the intensity of God's glory.

By the time of the Psalm (99:1-9), the "holy mountain" refers not to Mt. Sinai, but to the Temple in Jerusalem. The original Temple, built by Solomon in Jerusalem was built on the top of a hill -- the high ground, so that people literally had to climb uphill to enter the sacred space. In fact, the phrase "go up to Jerusalem" used throughout the Scriptures, refers to height of the Temple over the surrounding countryside. The Temple contained the "holy of holies" -- the most sacred space in the entire building in which the Ark of the Covenant was kept, symbolizing the presence of God with God's people. The Temple mount is still considered sacred by the Jews, but only a bit of the Second Temple (built during the reign of Herod the Great) remains and is know as "the wailing wall". The rest of the sacred Temple site is occupied by the Dome of the Rock, one of the sacred sites of Islam.

When Paul writes the Church at Corinth (2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2), he makes use of the passage from Exodus above in a form of rabbinic commentary known as "midrash", in which he takes the story of Moses' glowing face, and contemporizes it for his readers. He compares the reading of the Law in the "old way" as reading through a veil -- one cannot perceive the freedom of the Gospel. But, Paul is confident that, through the movement of the Spirit, the veil of misunderstanding can be lifted so that one can truly see the glory of Lord in the person of Jesus Christ.

Today's Gospel reading (Luke 9:28-36) also brings forward the symbolism of Moses' encounter with God on the holy mountain. This time, though, the glory of God is not reflected by a human face, rather, it shines directly through the person of Jesus. In offering this account, the Evangelist is making plain the direct connection of Jesus with God. The Law (represented by Moses) and the Prophets (represented by Elijah) are fulfilled in Jesus. The overshadowing cloud is reminscent of the Shekinah (glory) of God that hovered over Mt. Sinai in the Exodus story and that filled the Temple in the call of Isaiah (Isaiah 6:1-8). The heavenly Voice speaks (as at Jesus' baptism), and the disciples are overcome with fear (as the Israelites experienced in Exodus 34). This encounter with the Divine manifested through Jesus renders Peter, James and John speechless -- they tell no one of what they've seen.

The story of Jesus' Transfiguration is always read by the Church on the Last Sunday after the Epiphany. This event, of the Light of God shining through Jesus is the climactic story of this season. God in Man made manifest (Hymn 135)! These stories of signs and wonders -- at Jesus' baptism, making water into wine, the authority of Jesus' teaching, the great catch of fish -- prepare us for the journey through Lent, when we tell different stories -- stories of temptation, conflict, betrayal and death. Next Sunday we will find ourselves in the wilderness, but this Sunday we are on the mountain. Savor the view. Strain for one more glimpse of the Epiphany star.

O God, who before the passion of your only-begotten Son revealed his glory upon the holy mountain: Grant to us that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross, and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. (Collect for the Last Sunday after the Epiphany)

For the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany

When I called, you answered me; you increased my strength within me.
-- Psalm 138:4

There is an interesting juxtaposition between the words of the Psalm (138:1-9) and the other three lessons the lectionary gives for our consideration this week. In this passage, the language is language "from beneath", as the psalmist speaks from a posture of worship -- giving thanks (v. 1), bowing down toward the temple (v. 2), recognizing the glory of God's Name (v. 3) and recounting the certainty that God has answered the psalmist's call (v. 4). The writer is certain that, upon hearing these words of praise (v. 5), rulers everywhere will be drawn into worship of the Lord as well.

Isaiah has a vision "from above" (Isaiah 6:1-8) in a dramatic encounter with the Holy One while going about his regular temple worship. We don't get the sense that Isaiah was doing anything out of the ordinary in fulfilling his duty and yet, the Holy One "breaks in" to Isaiah's routine, with all sorts of heavenly pyrotechnics. After seeing the smoke of God's presence (Shekinah), feeling the heaviness of God's glory (not to mention the shaking of the ground beneath his feet!), seeing the angels dart about the room and hearing their song, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory" (sound familiar?), Isaiah is overwhelmed by the sense of his own unworthiness -- a person of "unclean lips". And yet, it is just this sort of person that God calls into service as a prophet, to tell the message of God to God's people.

Paul, testifying of his vision of the resurrected Jesus (1 Corinthians 15:1-11), recounts a similar theme. He has, as well, been called "from above". He notes that receiving this appointment as a messenger of the Gospel was akin to being "one untimely born" -- an overdue birth in the great scheme of God's plan of salvation. Paul still seems somewhat mystified that he should have been the recipient of such a vision, claiming he was, "unfit to be called an apostle" because of his former persecution of the church.

The Psalmist finds an experience of the Holy "from below" in the glories of worship. Isaiah and Paul receive an experience of the Holy "from above" in life-altering visions. But Simon Peter and his companions hear the call of the Holy from a very different vantage point -- right beside them! The call comes in a human voice, the voice of the one who becomes their Rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth (Luke 5:1-11). In the aftermath of the unprecedented catch of fish (after a night's worth of unproductivity), Simon is overwhelmed by the experience. In some mysterious way, this bountiful blessing immediately reminds him of his own unworthiness ("Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man!). Then he and his friends hear the words which change their lives for ever: "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." However the fishermen understood this invitation, it was irresistible -- so compelling, in fact, they left everything (even the huge pile of fish!) and followed the Teacher.

What are we to make of these accounts in our own lives? We might wish for (or fear!) some sort of divine interruption to our routine so that we can truly know that we are on the right track in our efforts to serve God. We might share Isaiah's, Paul's and Peter's sense of unworthiness (isn't it great to be in such great company?). But, what I take from these various stories of God's initiative toward humanity is the realization that we are ever-surrounded by the presence of the One who keeps inviting humanity into relationship. This One calls continually. Sometimes "from below". Sometimes "from above". And sometimes, calling right beside us, within earshot. But wherever and however we may hear the call, the question of the Holy One is, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?"

May God give each of us the strength to say simply, "Here am I; send me!"

Set us free, O God, from the bondage of our sins, and give us the liberty of that abundant life which you have made known to us in your Son our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.