SamEpisco

The 6th Wednesday in Lent

This week's mediation started to make me sad.  Mostly, because I think about how much pressure we receive to "do more", and how we get defined by our "success" to do more, to do more effectively, to make more money, to attain more power, to earn more authority, to DO and DO and DO and DO! 
But what if we were really radical, really counter-cultural, and just said, "no."  Not even that sort or yelling and defiant "NO!", but a quiet, self-assured, non-confrontational, even comforting, and simple, "no, no thank-you, not today, I think I am just going to sit here, quietly, alone with my thoughts, my prayers.  I think that's how I will define myself at least today, or at least in this moment of today."

What if instead of thinking of our self-worth in terms of doing more, we defined ourselves by doing less.  What if we did less judging of others?   What if we were less harsh?  We if we stopped being mean?  Maybe being so busy, doing so much, feeling so under pressure to perform at such high levels of expectation of our success, that all of that "doing" is drowing out our ability to "be" anything of substance at all?  Maybe we are so hectic, we don't have the inner emotional focus to be in touch with our kindness, our gentleness, our compassion?  Maybe that's why we are all too often in a place that feels brittle, dried out, and easily splintered into a million pieces?  Maybe that's why we need to stop?  Maybe that's why we can't really start until we stop?

What do you think?

Read John 6:1–21
When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to
make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.
Read Isaiah 56:1–8
Blessed is [the one] who refuses to work during my Sabbath days of rest,
but honors them. (TLB)

When I am so hard on myself for not being able to slow down to make
time for God, I am reminded of the United Methodist bishop who
serves my conference—Judy Craig—who a year ago was nearing surgery
and the first of her chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer. The bishop
admitted to the Annual Conference gathering of some 4,000 people
that, much as she appreciated the retired bishop assisting her (so that she
could rest), she could not sit still in her room. Knowing the conference
continued on under the care and control of the other bishop, she told
us that she paced her room, unable to rest. “What are they doing now?”
she says she wondered, physically removed from the action.
I think of her, a bishop, who by example has been a mentor in the
faith, and am somewhat comforted to know that she is—as I am—facing
the human condition: the inability to let go. We want to seize control
even when we are not in the room.
Lord, teach me to sit still.
I am listening, Lord, for _______________________________________

The Fifth Wedneday in Lent

The meditation below reminds me that we are in Spring Break season.  I know many of you have just returned, are currently at, or just getting ready to leave on Spring Break.  For some, Spring Break represents a time of escape, escape from the stress, the pressure, the discontent, of College life.  Frankly, I think that's ok, and sometimes we really do need that.  But we all are well aware that the way in which we sometimes escape is really only a bandaid, and doesn't really refresh us to be prepared to "re-enter" the life that awaits us.  One of the great things to me about Benedictine spiritual practice is the value they place on finding balance in life.  So what if, on Spring Break, you find some balance in "re-freshing" your soul.  Find some quiet time to rest, connect, go for along walk, talk talk to God, pray.  Is that too naive?  That's a real question, I want to know your answer.  I have been asking each week, "What are you listening for?"  Have I sent my expecations to high?  Do you really have the time, or even the interest, to hear from God?  I hope you take some time to answer.

Here is the mediation for this week that got me thinking:

Wednesday in the Fourth Week of Lent

Isaiah 41:1–4

Quiet down, far-flung ocean islands. Listen! Sit down and rest, everyone.
Recover your strength. Gather around me. Say what's on your heart. Together
let's decide what's right. (The Message)

As a parent of young children, I fight to get them to "sit still" at least
once a week in church and usually more often. There is a limitless energy
in kids; you have seen it. Part of their fight with me is power: they do
not want to give in to me, to let me "win" the battle. I see in them a fear
of holding still, that letting me have the power relinquishes their control
of the situation.

A simple lesson for us to learn, isn't it, about our own hesitation to
hold still, to let God "win" the battle of power over us? What happens
when we relinquish control? Let us take a few minutes to stop the wiggling
we're doing as adults, the wiggling away from spiritual time, wiggling
away from prayer. Let us say to ourselves: this is important time for
me to let go and give God the control. It requires that we listen, that we
stop moving, that we let God have our attention, even if only for a short
time. With my children, I try many approaches—among the worst, I yell
that they are not cooperative, that their behavior is inappropriate. I wonder
now, does God think we are not cooperative? that our behavior is
inappropriate? I have learned that a more successful approach—the one
for which God as Parent is our example—is to quietly, gently, talk with
my children about the time ahead and what is to be gained from sitting
still. Let's see what will happen if we listen during this time. Let's see what
we will discover if we are quiet and paying attention.

Lord, teach me to sit still.
I am listening, Lord, for _______________________________________

 

Fourth Wednesday in Lent

When I read the meditation below, I was remined of the old saying that the job of a minister, and of the church, is to "comfort the affliected, and afflict the comfortable."  Its sort of reminiscent of the "Blessings and Woes" we hear from Jesus in Luke's Gospel.  (i.e. "Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be fed . . . . Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consulation)  There is of course, a major part of the spiritual life that we seek in order to be comforted, even relieved, to bring us joy, to remind us of our belovedness.  But there is also the major part of the spriritual life that is suppossed to unsettle us, stretch us, to move us out of our safety nets, move us out of our bubble, to move us out of our comfort zone, so that we can be more than what we currently are.  But why do we need that?  Maybe its because in our bubbles, in our comfort zones, we live our lives only concerned with our own needs, our own self interest, and ulitmately, the spiritual life is about moving out of sefishness, and into selflessness, i.e. living for the betterment of others, not the the betterment of our selves.

Read the meditation below, and let me know, what are you listening for? 

Read Jeremiah 6:9–16a

Thus says the LORD: Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient
paths, where the good way lies; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.

When I was in high school I heard a preacher whose name I have forgotten
but whose benediction I have not: "May the spirit of the Lord be
adequately disturbing." This message has traveled with me because I
find that if I do not feel disturbed by the Lord, I must not be letting the
Lord into my life. What does this disturbance mean? That I am uneasy
when I miss my prayer time, that I am uncomfortable when I witness
injustice and do not speak out against it, that I am riding along with all
going well and forgetting to give thanks, that I am stumbling along in
pain and afraid to ask God for help, certain that God has given up on
me. Like the apostle Paul, I try to live with Jesus Christ as model, but I
fail time and again. It is in this failure that God is more and more present
for me—disturbing me, challenging me to try again.

Lord, teach me to sit still.
I am listening, Lord, for _______________________________________

Third Wednesday in Lent

Well, I am getting better at keeping up with all the emails I am getting from the blog (at least a LITTLE better.)  I am so grateful to hear from so many of you, and hear how you are doing, and some very moving reflections from these mediations.  KEEP 'EM COMING!  Even if you can only take one minute to drop me a quick email, or post on the blog, its great to be in touch.  I wonder if any of you who went through Confirmation Class at St. Paul's remember the excerise we do with Galatians 6 "Bear one another's burden's, and in this way you fullfill the law of Christ", and one person who is laying on the floor is picked up over everyone's head, as each member of the group helps to lift.  I really do love that passage, and the simple excercise.  I hope this blog is way for us to "bear one another's burdens."

Here is the meditation for this week, I can't wait to hear your comments and reflections:

Wednesday in the Second Week of Lent

Read Job 37:1–18

Hearken unto this, O Job: stand still and consider the wondrous works of God.
(KJV)

The Psalmist writes that God finds us anywhere. Even if we turn our
backs on God—because we think we are too busy, because we are playing
too hard or working too hard—God is in our midst. If you have ever
been to an ocean, you know the constant roll and roar of the sea. For
me, there is no better place to witness at once the certainty and the mystery
of God's presence. The tide goes in and out every day; you can
expect it. The next wave returns and I am turned to an awareness of
God's creative force. I look out to the horizon, the end of this vast sea
beyond my vision, and I know in a moment that I am a very small part
of the creation of our enormous God. I cannot hear my own heart here,
because the tumbled crash of the breakers is louder than my own sense
of self, my breathing. Compared with this ocean, I am still. I am at once
humbled and grateful for God's watching over me, a speck of life on
this shore, standing in the tide. The water washes over my feet, and I
give thanks.

Lord, teach me to sit still.
I am listening, Lord, for ________________________________________