Trail Notes

Who’s your shepherd? 

These days, we talk about mentors in business, spiritual guides in religion, and buddies in grammar school.  But the Bible talks about shepherds…a lot.  Moses was a shepherd for his father-in-law Jethro’s flocks, before he became a shepherd of the Hebrew people.  David was the boy-shepherd in his father Jesse’s family, until he became the shepherd of a new Hebrew nation. 

We know well from many Christmas pageants that the lowly shepherd were the first to recognize the infant Jesus as Messiah – the one who would become “the Good Shepherd of his people.” 

Many sermons on this Sunday affectionately known as “Good Shepherd Sunday” have been preached about sheep and lambs: their docility, the vulnerability, and yes, their stupidity.  But I’d rather focus on humans this year.  Who’s your shepherd?  Who has led you, supported you at crucial times in your life?  Who has warned you from dangers, and perhaps challenged your youthful arrogance?  Who has been a friend when the world didn’t seem very friendly? 

I think of certain teachers I was blessed to have, and one or two priests too.  My music teachers and choral conductors saw potential in me, and encouraged me without trying to make me in their own image.  My parents shepherded me wisely when I was young, and my older brothers did when I was older.  Today, I have a few close friends who listen when I am confused, support when I am down, and steer me in the right direction when I am confused.  When I think about it, I’ve been blessed with shepherds throughout my life.  I believe God has worked through each of them. 

I hope you have, too.  I encourage you this week to think about the good shepherds in your own life.  Who are they?  Remember the times they guided and supported you.  Give thanks to God for them.  In them, Christ our Good Shepherd has touched your life.  JBM 

Practicing Easter (and flying kites)

What’s hard for me about Easter is that the climactic moment of Easter Day comes – with all its gorgeous flowers and shining brass, its grand music and big crowds, its joy and gladness – and then it fades so quickly.  The flowers of spring are fragile – when cut, they don’t last long.  The crowds in church don’t come back for the next Sunday.  How do we keep the spirit of Easter alive? 

Last Sunday, our guest preacher, Tricia Lyons, spoke inspiringly about the spirit of Easter in her family.  After suffering a tragic loss, the spirit was lost for some years.  They finally got it back by flying kites one Easter Day: feeling the tug on the string as the kite was lifted up by unseen forces of wind.  Often, we need to believe in things we cannot see!  The kites were lifted high and soared into the sky, just as Jesus was lifted up to live again.  Now, Tricia keeps a kite in her car at all times, so she is ready whenever she needs to recapture the spirit of Easter.  Tricia calls it, “Practicing Easter.” 

How do you “practice Easter” in your own life?  Are there certain places that restore the spirit of Easter for you – the roaring seashore, or a majestic mountain?  Such beautiful places do inspire me.  But when I need to recapture the spirit, the best thing for me to do is to do something kind, something loving and unexpected.  When I visit a lonely person, or bring a treat to someone who is suffering, I find I am the one who is helped.  My spirit is revived.  My joy comes back.  When I feel restored, it’s not hard to believe that The God of Jesus is the one who raises the dead to life, who breaks the bonds of sadness, anxiety, or regret, and sets us free. 

How do you “practice Easter” in your own life?  JBM

Babies are wonderful!  But they are also messy little creatures.  They spit up, soil their diapers, and get dirty exploring whatever they can get their hands on.  In essence, they are human beings.  We all live lives that get messy.  Whether baby or grownup, we often need a good bath.  Once we have one (or a shower), we feel clean, rejuvenated, and ready for life again. 

We are bathing a baby this Sunday at 10:45 a.m.: “Coco” Gomez – daughter of Julie Anderson and Tony Gomez, will be baptized.  Easter is the best possible time to baptize a child into the fellowship of Christ.  Baptism is itself a spiritual experience parallel to the journey of Jesus: with Jesus, we are moving through death into a new life – from dirty to clean, from messy to ship-shape.  With baptism, a new reality comes – a new child of God, a new member of the Body of Christ, a.k.a. the Church. 

Some churches do not baptize infants, because they aren’t conscious of what is happening, and aren’t able to make a decision.  We do baptize little ones, because we acknowledge a reality much bigger than any of us – the fellowship of God’s love – and we want our children to be included in that.  Being loved doesn’t require a decision; love is a free gift that showers over us, like clean water.  We simple experience it, and eventually we acknowledge it as the wonder that it is.  JBM 

Why Come to Church at Easter? 

The church proclaims its greatest message – Jesus’ resurrection from the dead – on Easter.  It’s also the hardest to believe for many people.  The ancient scriptures and creeds seem far from the modern world. To some, the church can seem like an artifact from an earlier time.  Many folks have objected to various church teachings, and of course the institutional church has sometimes not lived up to its own values. 

Still, I think people long for something greater than themselves, a source of deeper meaning and purpose than the world provides.  When I feel the coming of spring – the springing up of crocus and daffodils – the idea of resurrection doesn’t seem so far-fetched.  In fact, it appears to be part of the fabric of nature. 

The church is our human attempt to be this resurrected Christ in today’s world.  God knows, it is flawed, as every community is.  We are always forming and reforming, seeking to be closer to God, better at loving our neighbors.  This community, the “Body of Christ,” invites us back, no matter how many times we stray, or how long we stay away.  Margaret Renkl, for the New York Times, writes this in an article called “Easter is Calling Me Back to the Church”:

The year away from church hasn’t made me miss the place itself. I don’t miss the stained glass. I don’t miss the gleaming chalice or the glowing candles or the sweeping vestments. But I do miss being part of a congregation. I miss standing side by side with other people, our eyes gazing in the same direction, our voices murmuring the same prayers in a fallen world. I miss the wiggling babies grinning at me over their parents’ shoulders. I miss reaching for a stranger to offer the handshake of peace. I miss the singing.

So, in the name of the church, I invite you to join with those wiggling babies and people praying for our fallen world: come to church.  Sing the hymns that proclaim the best of all possible news: Jesus Christ is risen today!  If that is so, then all things are possible.  JBM 

“I will write it on their hearts”

After centuries of tumultuous political and religious life in Israel, the prophet Jeremiah describes a new covenant with God, a covenant that will not be an outward contract between God and people – a contract often broken by humans – but an inward, built-in relationship that cannot be severed by our failings and waywardness.  I picture this new covenant as more like a familial relationship: like a parent who simply cannot and will not give up on her child, no matter what. 

I believe this new covenant which Jeremiah described six centuries before Jesus became embodied in God’s Messiah, or Christ, whom we know as Jesus of Nazareth.  The covenant shifts from a conditional, breakable, external agreement, to an internal, unconditional, unbreakable relationship of love.  Jesus described this kind of love in the Parable of the Prodigal Son (sometimes known as “the Gospel in miniature.”) 

This new covenant shifts focus from getting to giving.  God is not in it to get our adulation, devotion, or obedience (although these are not bad things!).  God’s intention is to give Godself to us, and hopefully inspire us to give ourselves away too – for each other, and for the life of the world.  The grain of wheat gives up its life, in order to bring growth and fruit.  We do not seek to preserve our lives and hoard our goods, but rather give ourselves away and find abundant life. 

The Prodigal Son lost it all, and found that in fact he still had what mattered: his father’s love.  His father gave up control over his son and his inheritance, and found that he was rewarded with the freely-given love of the son he adored.  This is the great paradox of Christian living.  Jesus demonstrates this new covenant by giving his own life on the cross, and finding new life in God – for himself and for all of us.  Go figure.  JBM 

“We detest this miserable food!”

Complaining about the food is a time-honored pastime – whether it’s the school cafeteria, the mess tent, or the company lunchroom.  Food is something almost all of us care about – it’s basic to our happiness.  When we don’t like, it, we say so. 

Sometime during the Hebrews’ 40 years of wandering in the wilderness, we have this story from Numbers chapter 21 about the people moaning and complaining against God and Moses about the poor food.  God apparently gets fed up with them, and sends poisonous snakes which bite the Israelites so that many died.  This seems a bit extreme, although it’s true that the Hebrews had been complaining about the food for a good 10 chapters.  When the people realized what God had done, they admitted their sin and asked Moses to intercede for them.  God, strangely, tells Moses to make a bronze serpent and lift it up on a pole. When those who were bitten by the snakes look at the bronze serpent, they are allowed to live. 

John’s Gospel, again strangely, compares this bronze serpent to Jesus lifted up on the cross, who also brings life to those who believe in him.  This comparison doesn’t work very well for me.  I get stuck on the fact that God sent the venomous snakes to kill in the first place.  What do you think? 

We don’t hear from the Book of Numbers that often on Sundays.  It is one of the first five books of the Bible, known as the Books of Moses or the Pentateuch.  Its name comes from the many lists and enumerations that fill the book, starting with a census of all the people and tribes of Israel.  Numbers tells much of the same history of the time in the wilderness that we also hear about in Exodus.  Numbers does give us a number colorful vignettes: Balaam’s talking donkey, the manna and the quails, the spies sent into Canaan, a man executed for gathering sticks on the Sabbath, and of course today’s bronze serpent. 

Numbers also gives us this beautiful benediction which is still often used, known as the Aaronic Blessing: 

“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.”                                         

                                                                                                                                    JBM

An Angry Jesus?

Today we encounter Jesus turning over tables and driving animals out of the Temple courtyard with a whip of cords!  This story has always stood out against the “meek and mild” picture of Jesus many of us grew up with – a Jesus usually pictured with pale, delicate features and blue eyes.  But the Jesus in this story is strong, vital, and athletic…and no doubt dark-skinned and swarthy. 

While the other gospels use this story near the end of Jesus’ life, just after Palm Sunday, John’s Gospel begins with it: it appears in chapter 2.  Maybe John wants us to know from the outset that Jesus can get angry when he encounters behavior that he believes runs counter to God’s will.  He is even disruptive. 

To me, Jesus’ anger is a reflection of God’s own indignation when we contravene God’s commandments – when we treat each other badly, make war, despoil the creation, and disrespect the God who made us.  Anger is the very natural reaction to events and behaviors that we abhor – how else would we react? 

The big question, however, is how do we respond in our anger?  We teach our children to own their angry feelings, but still control their responses. Spiteful words and destructive behaviors are not okay, even though we are angry.  Yet Jesus does overturn the furniture and wreak havoc with the livestock in the Temple courtyard.  Are there times when such acting out is warranted? 

We need our righteous indignation to fight some crucial battles in our society right now.  One such battle is over guns: who should have the privilege of keeping a gun?  What kinds of guns are reasonable for citizens to own?  How do we keep guns out of the hands of irresponsible persons?  The March for Our Lives is gathering on March 24, 2018 in Washington to demand a response.  St. Dunstan’s will be hosting folks from out of town that weekend.  Palm Sunday weekend will be full of meaning this year.  JBM  

“I would take a bullet for the kids.”

That’s what one of the Parkland, Florida teachers said to his wife after the shooting there.  We can all applaud his willingness to sacrifice for the sake of other. 

But I wonder how his wife felt hearing that.  If that were to transpire, she would face not only the loss of her life partner, but the father of her children.  Untold suffering would come with his selfless decision. 

Of course, without the evil of shooters such an act would not be needed.  But in our present climate where there is no political will to do anything to arrest this madness, this is the world we live in. 

This sad state of affairs helps me understand Jesus and his decision to “take a bullet for the world.”  Without human evil, it would never have happened, never have been needed.  But there was human evil aplenty in the first century, as in our twenty-first. 

Our Lenten theme is “Meeting God in the wilderness.”  Today we focus on “Meeting God in suffering” – a place I do not like to visit!  And yet suffering can be necessary.  Suffering can lead to a greater good.  Suffering can be sacrificial. 

If I were a school teacher, I have to wonder…if “I would take a bullet for the kids.”  JBM  

“Seasonal Affective Disorder”

It’s Lent again – how does that make you feel? 

I have a hunch that many of us don’t look forward to Lent.  I, for one, like the jovial spirit of Mardi Gras with its pancake suppers, dancing in the streets, and colorful beads.  As winter wears on (and on), we need a pick-me-up.  Lent doesn’t seem to be it. 

I also believe that we all have plenty to feel bad about these days without heaping more onto the pile.  We’re well aware of our own failings, the struggles in our personal lives, and the huge troubles and dangers in the world today.  Political systems aren’t working well in the U.S. or many other nations.  Nuclear war is back on the front page.  Violence, disease, and famine rage.  Do we need a church season to make us feel S.A.D.? 

No, we do not.  Fortunately, Lent has received a theological and spiritual makeover in many quarters.  It doesn’t need to be maudlin, with an air of self-flagellation.  Instead, we can use Lent to acknowledge the tensions and struggles in life and bring God’s life-giving message to assuage them.  We can, in fact, Meet God in the Wilderness. 

One way to counteract the world’s heaviness is to reinvigorate a relationship that brings you joy and comfort.  If you are like me, you have wonderful friends whom you just don’t keep up with.  They may live far away, but these days that’s not a big impediment.  Reach out and contact that person, and see if the spark of delight is still there in that relationship.  If so, you have a companion in the wilderness, someone to walk with you.  Maybe that person can be Christ to you.  Maybe you can be Christ to that person. 

Jesus was baptized in the Jordan River, with a booming affirmation from God.  Then he was driven into the wilderness.  Life’s highs are fleeting; the wilderness times are less so.  Jesus took with him, into the wilderness, his relationship with God.  He borrowed strength from God and his loved ones.  And he survived.  We might say, he got by with a little help from his friends.

Lent doesn’t have to bring with it “Seasonal Affective Disorder.”  It can be a season of claiming our joy, and treasuring those who walk with us, even with wilderness all around us.  JBM  

Our Jewish Lord Jesus

How easily the Christian world forget just who Jesus was!  How many paintings of a blue-eyed, fair skinned Jesus have you seen?  How can Christians continue to denigrate the Jewish people, when Jews was a devoted, practicing Jew his whole life? 

I’ve been reading a lot about Jesus in his historical and cultural context lately.  This may not sound riveting to you, but I continue to be fascinated by this man who changed the world from during his short earthly life in an obscure corner of the Roman Empire.  No matter what one believes about Jesus, there is no question he has changed the course of human events, and still propels humanity with his simple challenge to love our neighbors. 

Today’s story called “The Transfiguration” comes every year just before we enter Lent.  In it, a few disciples see Jesus on a mountaintop glowing a dazzling white.  He is conversing with Moses and Elijah, two leading lights of Jewish tradition.  The message is clear: Jesus is a continuation of God’s revelation to the Jewish people through Moses, Elijah, and many other prophets and leaders.  Christians follow the same God as the Jews.  Jesus did not supersede or dismiss the Jews’ relationship with God – how could he, since he was himself a faithful Jew? 

As we enter the season of Lent again this year, our parish theme is “Meeting God in the Wilderness.”  We wander with Moses, Elijah, and Jesus in our various wildernesses.  Let us trust that God will meet us there – on a mountaintop, or in a deep valley, or on a dusty road.  JBM