Psalms 27 88, 95; Job 19:21-27a; Heb. 4:1-16; Rom. 8:1-11

God's Wingman

It is a privilege to write the conclusion of these 40 devotionals. But I admit it was a bit daunting. It felt like we had been on a long journey together and I hoped I could provide something worthy of the end. As always, our God provides. In this case, it was this passage: "For the word of God is living and active" Heb. 4:12.

How absolutely perfect for the conclusion of our Lenten discipline! Thank you, Lord. Several of our contributors wrote about being open and receptive to doing God's work-- about the importance of being an agent for Christ and trying to live out His message, His word, in this world. This is something I know firsthand.

Several years back, my son-- then six-- showed me this lesson. We were sitting in the McDonald's on Broad St. and I was preparing to make a presentation to a local woman's organization. He was with me mainly because at that age he still thought what I said was interesting. About fifteen minutes before addressing the group, I learned that my brother had been caught up in the military surge of 2007 and was heading out early to a part of Iraq which at that point had been very deadly. While this was not my brother's first deployment it was extremely frightening and, unfortunately, my son, saw my fear. Before then, we had been fairly successful in masking it, but this was shocking and unexpected news. He heard the phone conversation. At least my half.

After ending the call, my sweet little boy said, "We should pray about this." Again, I was shocked. All I could say was, "You're absolutely right. That's actually all we can do." And that baby, that child, countered with the most amazing response. I swear to you, he replied, "No. That's just where we start. Then we have to do what God needs." He was right, of course. Otherwise they're just words. Empty words offered to an empty god.

But our God and His Word remain living and active. We are here to be His wingmen and women (a term my sister applied when she heard of her young nephew's insightful statement). We are here for a short time, but we are here to serve Him and His people.

Over these last 39 days, I've read the most wonderful reflections. They have inspired me to seek our Savior, to serve Him, trust Him, and to know there is always hope, and light, and that Christ desires a relationship with us. We are part of a wonderful community. But don't let what we've learned stay only with us. Go out in the world, as Christ's wingmen: Loyal, fearless, and willing to do what our Savior asks of us.

Amen.

Psalms 22, 95, 40, 54; Wisdom 1:16 - 2:1, 12-22 or Gen. 22: 1-14; 1 Peter 1:10-20; John 13:36-38, 19:38-42

I recently had the opportunity to hear the lecture of an eminent scholar of the New Testament. His knowledge of scripture and how the New Testament was created was awe-inspiring. But in the question-answer session following the lecture, a woman asked if he was a believer. "No," he replied, "I am agnostic." He went on to explain that it was not his erudition that had compromised his once born-again faith. It was suffering. How could an active God, a good God, allow suffering? I was saddened and troubled by his personal revelation, because it prods me to ask the same questions about suffering and those times when God doesn't seem to care about suffering or hear our prayers. David is suffering intensely when he cries out in Ps. 22 "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer. . ." That sense of abandonment, the feeling that God isn't listening, creates an angst that seems impossible to bear. Jesus, knowing of His impending horrible death, felt that agony in the garden of Gethsemane and on the cross, when He repeats David's cries. Abraham, too, must have suffered greatly, in Genesis 22, as he was preparing to sacrifice his only son Isaac. And Peter, too, when in John 13: 36-38 he learns that he will deny the Lord he believed he was willing to die for. I feel abandoned and weak in suffering. I do not want to suffer, and it hurts me to see the suffering of others.

I, a sinner, would stop it if I could. So why doesn't God? I know that I cannot know the answer -- does that make me agnostic if I recognize that I can't expect to understand? But no; I cling tightly to my faith, repeating David's words in Ps. 40: "I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry" and expecting that "weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning (Ps. 30)." Just as it did to David, to Abraham, and to all of us through Christ's resurrection

Psalms 102, 142, 143; Jer. 20:7-11; 1 Cor. 10:14-17; 11:27-32; John 17:1-11 (12-26)

From your lips to God's ear

Interestingly, all but one of today's readings uses what I'm terming a "divine conversations" format (you know, talking to God). Certainly, the Psalms do. It's as if we are eavesdropping on private exchanges between people that know each other well. The three entries start almost identically: "Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry for help come to you" Ps. 102:1.

But that's kind of what you expect with the Psalms. Less expected, was how this was also seen in Jeremiah (Jeremiah talking-- umm, grumbling/ranting-- to God) and in John (with Jesus speaking to His heavenly Father). And the topic, too, for many of the readings shared a common subject: the challenges, necessities, and difficulties of living as a Christian in this world. I Cor. 10: 21 summarizes well this repeated theme with the statement that "you cannot have a part in both the Lord's table and the table of demons."

So, looking at all of these readings in total it seems there are several "take away" points. First, it's hard to live a Christian life. There are always-- for each one of us-- stumbling blocks. Second, and serving as a counter balance, is the invitation to always bring these tribulations to God. If you have a moment, please read the Jeremiah text. Jeremiah is really giving it to God-- "O, Lord, you deceived me and I was deceived" Jer. 20: 7. There is no sugar coating here. Jeremiah is mad. But the key is he is mad at our God, who is big enough to handle our anger. Like Jeremiah, we can be real. And that brings me to my third point, the one that I want you to deeply consider, and that is just the conversational tone of the readings. The simple, on-going-ness of it all.

As we move out of Lent, a season which is so contemplative, I don't want us to lose the connection that we've built or strengthened with our Lord over these last 38 days. For a bit now, I've been working to have conversations with God throughout the day-- in the car, in the pool, wherever I find myself (I like the word conversation, perhaps more than prayer. It seems to relay an intimacy, as well as allude to the give and take of communicating). These impromptu chats require discipline, like with any relationship, but I have started to talk-- AND listen-- in a more authentic and genuine way. God knows my anger, fears, concerns, love, excitement, and joy. Certainly, He's always known these things but the difference is I've asked Him to share in the experience of my life. It's kind of exciting.

Psalms 55, 74; Jer. 17:5-10, 14-17; Phil. 4:1-13; John 12:27-36

Disappointment. Disillusionment. At some point in our lives we run into situations that thrust us into these places of despair. Maybe it is the loss of a job that we yearned for, someone of authority that we respected in our workplace that hasn't lived up to promises given, or perhaps, someone we thought was a friend we realized is actually an acquaintance. Whatever the cause, disappointment and disillusionment are real with their accompanying feelings of loneliness, stress, and mourning.

During these times it is very easy to retreat into the darkness of our feelings. However, when we do so we are missing one of the most beautiful opportunities we have as followers of Christ. In the days before His crucifixion, Jesus said, "If you walk in the darkness you cannot see where you are going." Think about it. In the dark we are paralyzed, fearful of each step. We are unaware of what lies ahead. By seeking out His light through prayer and placement of our burdens, worries, and fears into His hands we are able to become free to receive His blessings and walk in the light.

Our heavenly Father desires a relationship with us, His children. Nothing, except our own tendency to shut down, can prevent this from happening. Instead of hiding in the dark, open the window to God's blessings. Let His light illuminate and guide you through all of life's stormy time-- "Blessed are those who trust in the Lord and have made the Lord their hope and confidence." The key is trust. Trust implies humility and vulnerability, two things we as humans struggle with in relationships. Scripture continuously urges us to not be beholden to man and turn our hearts away from the Lord. We cannot have God's blessings being apart from Him. Being part of Him means we must call upon Him. When we do so, He is eager to step beside us and lift our load.

Psalms 6, 12, 94; Jer. 15:10-21; Phil. 3:15-21; John 12:20-26

"He who plants a seed beneath the sod and waits to see believes in God."

For almost as long as I can remember, my mother had this verse worked in needlepoint and mounted under glass in our dining room. She spent many hours of her life cultivating flowers and vegetables. She shared much of what was produced to the nourishment or beautification of others' lives. Thanks to her, my grandmother's magnificent peonies continue to flourish in my yard. Thanks to her, I can see a seed as a profound statement of faith.

In our passage from John, Jesus stands at the peak of His earthly popularity. He has recently raised Lazarus from the dead. Crowds of people in Jerusalem have just acclaimed Him as King. Not only Jews seek Him relentlessly, but also Greeks from the cultural center of the world are asking for an introduction. Jesus Himself says, "The time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified." What happens next stunned His followers, confounded His enemies and continues to humble and challenge us today.

Jesus became the single, lowly seed. His glorification was accomplished by His death on the cross in obedience to God's plan. Buried in the dirt, He sprang up in resurrection life calling us to conform to His image and produce fruit in our lives. Rather than capitalizing on His earthly position, Jesus again demonstrated His humility, selflessness and sacrificial nature. The one who denies self will receive eternal life. The one who loves self will perish.

Through self-sacrifice, let us place ourselves where God can work away at the hard shell of our life. Can we trust God to nourish and bless us (like Jeremiah) during this process that may be lengthy? Can we give God the glory for the fruit that is reproduced? Jesus is always our perfect example.

Psalms 51, 69: 1-23; Jer. 12:1-16; Phil. 3:1-14; John 12:9-19

Psalms 51. "Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me!" Is that not every soul's most fervent desire? Does not every soul on earth know God whether his mind acknowledges Him or not? Has He not written Himself on every impure heart?

In my wonderings through this life I have at times sought God desperately, drifted away from Him seeking my own road, looked for Him again, drifted away again, and explored worldly things with abandon. I have spent years without regular prayer and years out of the company of those who love God.

Now I am seeking Him again and He is filling my heart with joy as I read, and pray, and study His word, and surround myself with people who love Him. He has never cast me from His presence and His Holy Spirit has protected me and cared for me when I chose to wonder away.

I have always known God was there. He is written on my heart. But now my mind is being awakened to what His love really means and how I am to respond to it.

Psalms 42, 43, 137, 144; Jer. 31: 27-34; Rom. 11:25-36; John 11: 28-44 or 12: 37-50

Is Jesus One of Your Friends?

Friends are an essential element in a person's life. Most of us have numerous acquaintances, but few friends. A friend is someone with whom you share a special bond of trust, commitment, and responsibility. A person is fortunate to have three or four such individuals throughout their lifetime.

Jesus had such a friend--Lazarus. John's Gospel refers to Lazarus as the one whom Jesus loved. When Lazarus became gravely ill, his two sisters, Martha and Mary, immediately contacted Jesus and asked Him to hasten to Bethany, a "suburb" of Jerusalem. Even though Jesus had recently avoided being stoned in Jerusalem because of his teachings, His friendship with Lazarus was more important than His own safety.

When Jesus arrived in Bethany He was told that Lazarus had died four days earlier. Jesus, along with Lazarus's other friends and family, openly wept over the loss of their friend. Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, not to show His power, but to prove to the crowd that God had sent Him as the Messiah. Lazarus was the third person Jesus had resurrected from the dead; yet, despite these revelations of God's power, many of the witnesses still disbelieved and immediately reported Him to the religious authorities in Jerusalem, who were seeking to kill Him.

Do you think of Jesus as your friend? Do you constantly having to remind yourself of His presence? When we seek His help, do we ascribe the fulfillment of our prayers to something other than His intervention? If you treated your earthly friends like you do Jesus, how long would the relationship last? Jesus is still there whenever we call, despite our arrogance, disbelief, and indifference. Isn't that the mark of a good friend?

During this Lenten season, renew your friendship with Jesus. Have Him over for coffee when you do your morning readings. Take Him and an old friend you haven't seen recently to lunch. Share your evening meal with Him and a sick neighbor. Thank Him at the end of the day for your family, friends, and neighbors. You will feel better, and Jesus will enjoy renewing His conversations with an old acquaintance.

Psalms 22, 95, 141; 143:1- 12; Jer. 29: 1, 4-13; Rom. 11: 13 -24; John 11:1 -27 or 12: 1 - 10

"For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you." Jer 29:11-12

"I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die." John 11:25-26a

One phrase I recall my dad saying is "Life is not fair." We would have many discussions regarding the truth of this statement. I would naively argue, but why not? But it should be! It is "so and so's" responsibility to make it fair! While listening to me, I recall his steadfast, wise, and calm agreeing with me, yet still saying, you're right, but "life isn't fair" so, you have to decide how you are going to deal with it.

For all of us, life deals us tough blows and many frustrating times. Whether confrontations at work, tense times at home, or when life feels overwhelming by too much "busyness." We all have them. During times such as these, words in our readings are reassuring and comforting. God does not magically erase the blows and our troubles; God enters them with us. God, after all, took on our human flesh and went to the cross, not sparing Himself from the human condition so that we might join Him in the divine condition.

Prayer is our refuge. God is always there for us. The readings for this day are consoling, calming, and promising. We are reminded over and over again we are not alone. We are reminded of hope, and that our lives are of utmost importance to the God of the universe.

Psalms 131-133, 140, 142; Jer. 26:1-16; Rom. 11:1-12; John 10:19-42

Before a difficult examination in school, a fellow student asked me the answer to an important study question. I gave him my answer, which I knew to be correct, but he argued with me about why I was wrong. I walked away thinking, "Wow, you just can't give some people the right answer." Can you imagine what Jesus thought when He shared God's word with us?

In the Psalms we hear petitions for the Lord to protect us from those who would do us harm. I pray such prayers every day, but am I not asking God to do my work for me. Faith is a verb requiring action, not on God's part, but on my own. If tomorrow I choose to see past my own interests, to focus on my brothers and sisters and do my part of the heavy lifting, there is no limit to what can be accomplished. Every time I act without considering what is in it for me, I receive more than I give, and yet tomorrow I disappoint God and myself once again.

If there is a formidable enemy in the fight for my salvation, I fear that enemy is I. I pray that a lifetime is enough time for me to learn how to love my Father, accept His grace, and do His will. That is no small task, but it is possible because our Father loves us! It is the Good News. Thanks be to God!

Psalms 119: 145-176, 128, 129, 130; Jer. 25: 30-38; Rom. 10: 14-21; John 10: 1-18

"I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd." John 10: 16

How many times have you heard the Good Shepherd calling to you? How often do you stop and pause, listening for that still, small voice? Often I find that my life races forward, full of activities and work and friends and duties. I spare little time to stop and listen.

Yet when I do, I hear the voice of the Good Shepherd, quietly telling me what I ought to be doing. I ought to be loving others as myself, showing His love and grace to all I meet. I ought to be seeking His will in my life, not asserting my own. He whispers words of love and encouragement that I realize I desperately needed to hear. Why do I not stop and listen more frequently?

Through Christ we are co-heirs to the Kingdom of Heaven. We have been brought to the same sheep pen, one flock, one people, listening to the voice of God. Have you stopped to listen today?

Psalms 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127; Jer. 25: 8-17; Rom. 10: 1-13; John 9: 18-41

Rom. 10: 1-13 and John 9:18-41. Have you ever felt like there was this something inside of you; a place of insight, a force revealing things to you? Some may call it your intuition or conscience; that little voice that your mother always encouraged you to listen to. But, I think it is something far deeper. Something I've always known was there, but just couldn't bring to a consciously full understanding. I'm currently reading, as part of my personal study, the book Wisdom Jesus by Cynthia Bourgeault and in the book she refers to "the contemporary Christian mystic Thomas Merton who once wrote, 'At the center point of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and illusion, a point of pure truth, a point of spark which belongs entirely to God.'" She goes on to suggest that it is through this point that we step out of ourselves into something much larger where God is one with us and we are one with Him.

I hear this reflected in Paul's letter to the Romans. Paul is calling us to have a personal relationship with our Lord beyond the Law or perhaps the Orthodox practices of Christianity, but through the truth and wisdom revealed to us in that pure and intimate place within us. A place that exists in each citizen of mankind where we know God with an inner wisdom beyond the knowledge we've gained through study or practices.

In the reading from John, the Pharisees wanted to disprove the miracle of the blind man. They anticipated the Messiah, but could not accept Jesus, as He did not fit the bill of the one they expected to come in splendor and glory. They practiced within the confine of the Law and their own perceptions of the Messiah; they were unable to open themselves to any inner wisdom. They were blind. The blind man appears uncertain in his first testimony: 25 "Whether he is a sinner or not, I don't know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!" And then I think the most remarkable thing happens. He engages in turning the tables on the Pharisees and begins to question them; a bold and brave action on his part. And through this bantering he listens within himself and comes to a realization that Jesus confirms for him later, 31 "We know that God does not listen to sinners. He listens to the godly person who does his will. 32 Nobody has ever heard of opening the eyes of a man born blind. 33 If this man were not from God, he could do nothing."

During this Lenten season don't be afraid to step beyond the safety of what is authoritative and conventional, but bravely open yourself to that point of pure truth and spark within you that belongs entirely to God and be one with Him.

Psalms 31, 35; Jer. 24: 1-10; Rom. 9: 19-33; John 9: 1-17

In John 9, 1-17 we read the familiar story of Jesus healing the blind man by spitting in the dirt, putting the mud on the man's eyes and telling him to go wash in the pools of Siloam. What strikes me in this story is the reaction of the people that know this man. "His neighbors and those who had formerly seen him begging asked, 'Isn't this the same man who used to sit and beg?' Some claimed that he was. Others said, 'No, he only looks like him.' But he himself insisted, 'I am the man.'"

How is it they didn't recognize this beggar? They had surely passed him many times every day.

Years ago I had the pleasure of meeting Sergeant Major Milt Servais of the Salvation Army. He told me his encounter with Jesus that left his life unrecognizable. When he was young, his father was in prison which left his mother on the streets with her four young children. The only social service program in their area was the Salvation Army soup line. The people at the Salvation Army saw that Milt was struck with polio and worked to get him medical attention. The polio went into full remission. The Salvation Army Chaplin went to the jail and "planted a seed of hope -- prayed --it took root" in his father. His father came out of incarceration to serve as an officer in the Salvation Army for the next 50 years. Milt told me, "I was told about Jesus and it has shaped my destiny for that day to this." Until Milt Servais passed a few years ago, he spent his whole life working in the poorest sections of Nashville. He received the Order of the Founder Award, the highest world-wide honor given in the Salvation Army. Milt Servais' son continues working with the poor to this day. This family was unrecognizable from the one that stood in that charity soup line so many years ago. Their encounter with a living, breathing Savior left them saying, "I am the man."

None of this would have been possible without that soup line. Jesus said that neither the father's or mother's sin was responsible for the man's blindness, "this was done so that the works of God might be done." We don't know what leads us to the circumstances we find ourselves in. It may seem hopeless as we sit in blindness and feel our way through the days. But once we encounter the living Christ, we may not even look the same to those who have known us all of our lives.

Psalms 33, 107: 33-43, 108; Jer. 23: 9-15; Rom. 9: 1-18; John 6:60-71

Rom. 9:1-18. Verse 17 -- For the scripture says to Pharaoh, "I have raised you up for the very purpose of showing my power in you, so that my name may be proclaimed in all the earth." This verse is a firm answer to all of us as we wonder from time to time as to what our individual purpose is on God's earth.

We frequently question our self-worth and our value to those around us. We openly question the meaning of life. But, in this verse from Romans, we clearly hear God's plan: I have raised you up for the very purpose of showing my power in you.

Wow! What a simple, direct and glorious plan that is! God wants to work through me, little ol' me! Notice it says: showing my power in you. Hmmm? God doesn't want to show His power to me. He wants to share, wants me to participate, wants me to engage in His gifts.

There is no better gift. Take a minute away from self-doubt and ponder God's desire to show His power in you. Engage.

Psalms 95, 102, 107:1-32; Jer. 23:1-8; Rom. 8:28-39; John 6:52-59

Why don't preachers spend more time preaching about the psalms? It is a beautiful book, full of prophecy and poetry, a story of sinners and salvation. It is one that uniquely foretells of Israel's long awaited liberation with God's return to sacred Zion, and it tells the human story -- my story. Somehow every time I read one of the 150 psalms I can hear my voice in the text as if I wrote it myself. "Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress." (Psalm 107:6)

Why do we relate to the psalms so much? Because it is our story. We all have cried out in our times of desperation, when there is nowhere to go except to God. When the waves begin to crash, and the boat begins to rock, maybe all we have to do is stop searching for a way out and give God a way into our situation. Psalm 107 continues, "he made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed." It's funny how the writer is not just talking about our lives, if only the young disciples had read a little closer they might not have been so frighten by the Sea of Galilee's waves in that fishing boat.

We get rocked back and forth by the waves of life, and that doesn't change when it comes to the season of Lent. Life will carry on with its troubles as we prepare our hearts for Holy Week. We will continue to get frustrated with our co-workers and seem to always get mad at the driver in front of us. But, may we not let those waves distract us from what is most holy. "O that today you would listen to his voice!" (Psalm 95:7) May we never lose sight of Him on High, and may we continue to be united in the psalms and the faith of the Church.

Psalms 69; Jer. 22: 13-23; Rom. 8: 12-27; John 6: 41-51

While reading and studying the Gospel for today, I kept returning to what Jesus said as recorded in John 6:48, "I am the Bread of Life", and John 6:51, "I am the living bread which came down from Heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread I shall give is My flesh, which I shall give for the life of the world." So what is this "Bread of Life"?

What do you think Jesus would want us to do when we see people holding signs that say "will work for food (bread);" "please help me, I am hungry;" or even "give money, lost my job"? Do you think He would want us to go buy them food? Jesus was always concerned about the physical needs of people. That is why He spent so much of His time healing the sick, giving sight to the blind, and feeding the hungry. Don't you think He wants us to do the same?

Jesus wasn't just concerned about empty stomachs. He was even more concerned about empty hearts. One day after feeding over 5,000 people, Jesus said to them,"I am the Bread of Life, if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever." Jesus was saying that if they would believe and trust in Him, they would have everlasting life.

Jesus wants us to be concerned about physical hunger, but also about hungry hearts. Not only should we share our bread but also the story of Jesus, the Bread of Life, so that they may eat and never die.?

Dear God, we pray that we have strength to share our food and our story of Jesus, the Bread of Life. Amen.

Psalms 101, 109; Jeremiah 18:1-11; Romans 8:1-11; John 6:27-40

Paul is not exactly my favorite New Testament writer, and I usually don't approach his letters with an open mind. Every once in a while, however, a starkly simple and profoundly disturbing idea emerges from his tortuous syntax and bombastic prose. Today was one of those days.

In his letter to the Romans, Paul writes (v. 9) of the "Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead," making Christ not an agent or an actor in the drama of resurrection but merely the obedient subject of God's actions and decisions. If so, then Christ is, like us, the clay in the hands of the potter that Jeremiah had described half a century earlier.

If Jesus had to depend on the Spirit to raise Him from the dead, then He really was fully human and therefore in the same position we are. And if Jesus willingly volunteered to put Himself in that position, He must have wanted to show us what we can become if only we will let ourselves be, like Him, clay. Paul in fact insists that the same spirit that raised Jesus also gives life to our bodies. (v. 11) That is both an unsettling idea and an awesome possibility.

Psalms 94, 95, 97, 99, 100; Jer. 17:19-27; Rom. 7:13- 25; John 6:16-27

In John 6, verses 16-27, John talks about Jesus walking on water, how it is an impressive thing, and how the disciples are afraid of Him at first until He says "It is I; don't be afraid." But why is walking on water an impressive thing? We do it all the time. We use water-skis, surfboards, and those little pink almost clipboard looking devices I used to call "poor floaties"(they could never stay in my grasp). It's not hard at all, but we are still supposed to be amazed, astounded, and all that other stuff. Why was it Bible worthy?

Sitting on the beach, you might see some person jet-skiing past, and you think Cool! Jet skis! That must be fun! It's completely ordinary. But what Jesus did was not ordinary at all. He didn't need a surfboard. He didn't need to "poor floaties" to support His feet. All that He needed was the power of God.

You could compare it to the burning bush in Exodus. God burns a bush to tell Moses to free the Israelites from the Egyptians, leaving the bush unscathed when He's done. A regular burning bush is not remarkable; it doesn't leave an indentation in your head. You might wonder if someone from the fire department is coming to put it out, or you might grab a small bucket of water to put it out yourself, leaving the bush nothing but a pile of soggy ashes. But it is nothing out of the ordinary. Why was God's bush so different? Because when He was done it was as if nothing had happened!

That is why these stories are written about in the Bible. God takes the ordinary and turns it into extraordinary. Anybody can make water into something vaguely wine looking, just add red food coloring. Jesus turned it into actual wine, and not just any wine, the best kind of wine at the party. Without God, everything would be ordinary. Think about this: you can walk on water until the cows come home, but can you do what Jesus did?

Psalms 89; Jer. 16:10-21; Rom. 7:1-12; John 6:1-15

"The law shows us our sins, but it has no power over us once we have been saved." Romans: 7: 1-12

These verses connected with me in that we are all trying to follow God's laws or commandments. In reflecting on the verse, I see that God has made these laws to help us understand right from wrong and that once we fully believe and are baptized with Him we are no longer simply obeying the laws but rather living in the spirit of the laws and with Him.

This knowledge is a relief that the burden is not all on us, but rather we have died in the ways of sin and as long as we are uplifting God's laws we are all saved.

Psalms 87, 90, 136; Jer. 13:1-11; Rom. 6:12-23; John 8:47-59

"You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness." Romans 6:18

I am wrestling with this statement from Paul. I don't want to be a slave. Not to sin, surely, but in fact, not to anything. Freedom is a virtue that we cherish as Americans, a virtue that we will fight and die for. So how can I understand Paul when he says that we are no longer slaves to sin but have become slaves to righteousness-- how can I understand trading one form of slavery for another?

Memory prompts me to reconsider the words of Og Mandino in The Greatest Salesman in the World, a book given to me by my father when I graduated from college. In the eighth chapter, in the scroll marked I, the main character Hafid reads: "Today I begin a new life." He goes on to learn that the first law to obey in order to be born anew is this: "I will form good habits and become their slaves." Again this notion of slavery. The scroll explains that it's just as easy to have a good habit as a bad on-- as long as we are living, we will act out either bad habits or good habits. We must drive bad habits from our lives and replace them with good ones.

I understand now that I am not giving up freedom. My freedom is in my choice: either bad habits (sin) or good habits (righteousness). By my choice to be a slave to God, good habits are born, and I begin a new life, a good life.

"Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. His love endures forever." Psalm 136

Psalms 88, 91, 92, 95; Jer. 11:1-8, 14-29; Rom. 6:1-11; John 8:33-47

"Since we have died to sin, how can we continue to live in it? Or have you forgotten that when we were joined with Christ Jesus in baptism, we joined him in his death? For we died and were buried with Christ by baptism. And just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glorious power of the Father, now we also may live new lives" Romans 6:2b-4

At first, when I read the opening question in this passage it sounded like Paul was scolding Roman Christians for continuing to live in sin even though they were baptized, as though he were saying, "How could you keep on doing that?" I beat myself up all the time over this very contradiction. After all, is not NOT sinning simply a matter of will-- of knowing what sin is and then committing myself to not doing that, whatever that is? I wish it were that simple. Then I could claim at least to have earned my guilt.

Later in Romans, in chapter 7, St. Paul reveals the reality of sin, not as a result of weakness of my will but as rooted in my very nature. There is, he said a "power within me that is at war with my mind [i.e., my will]. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me." That is why "when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong." (verse 23 and 21) Try as he might, try as I might, that power persists, hating me and wishing me ill. As long as I think it is by my choices alone that I overcome sin, I remain a slave to it, wallowing in guilt and frustration and giving way to despair.

But Paul says there is another power that overcomes the dark power in me, that frees me from my enslavement to it. "Thank God!" he says. "The answer is in Jesus Christ." When I grow in love of Him, trust Him, cling to Him, through Jesus-dead, raised, ascended-my nature changes, and I am allowed to live anew. This lent, I am not seeking to overcome sin; I am seeking to grow closer to Jesus that He and I together can reshape my nature and grow in me new life. Thanks be to God.

Psalms 42, 43, 83, 85, 86; Jer. 10: 11-24; Rom. 5:12-21; John 8:21-32

In Psalms 42 and 43, the writer expresses a strong sense of despair, perhaps fear or abandonment: "My soul is downcast within me," he writes (42:4 NIV). But in the last verse of Psalm 43, he advises, "Put your hope in God." In Psalm 86 (still part of my assignment), we learn that our God "is not like other Gods (86:8). How so? Jeremiah 10:11-13 tells us how so, at least in part. Our God is the God of the universe. "When he thunders, the waters in the heavens roar; He makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth; He sends lightning with the rain, and brings out the wind from His storehouses." Is that so different from the gods of ancient Egypt or Mesopotamia?

Ah, but Jesus also controlled the forces of nature. He calmed the winds and walked on water. But Jesus, besides being God [In my Gospel assignment (John 8:21-32) the writer records Jesus making a series of "I AM" statements, words used by God to identify Himself as God.], is also human, fully human. And that's the difference! He is so human, albeit for the briefest moment just before He died on the cross, He too felt despair, a sense of abandonment: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" But with His last dying breath, He submitted to the will of God. Jesus, Himself, relied on the Father: "I do nothing on my own…the One who sent me is with me" (John 8: 28-29). God chose to become human to restore us to the full humanity that He created us to be, by submitting to His will and relying on His loving grace. Jesus shows us how to do it. We are called to try to follow that example.

Psalms 81, 82, 119: 97- 120; Jer. 8: 18- 9: 6; Rom. 5: 1-1; John 8: 12-20

This is the mid-point of Lent. Three weeks ago, in the flush of a renewed religious fervor that grips me every Ash Wednesday, I promised God and myself that I would take on a Lenten discipline and actually follow it the whole time. Some years, I focus on "giving up" a bad habit I enjoy; some years my focus is more on "taking on" a good habit I wish to make permanent. In the past, my Lenten discipline has included everything from eating right and exercising (those perennial New Year's resolutions of mine that always fall by the wayside the second week of January) to spending a certain amount of "quiet time" in prayer and reflection each morning. This year, I was trying to decide between brushing and flossing my teeth twice a day and swearing off Ebay for 40 days. (Uh, the Sundays in Lent don't count, right?) But then it occurred to me that perhaps I have been approaching this Lenten discipline thing all wrong.

In today's Old Testament reading, the prophet Jeremiah is stressed to the max (and he wasn't even trying to follow a Lenten discipline!) He wants to run away from his problems, especially the friends and family that surround him. ("O, that I had in the desert a traveler's lodging-place, that I might leave my people and go away from them!") The psalmist seems to echo this feeling, although he realizes he doesn't have to physically run away; instead, he finds his refuge in God. ("You are my hiding place and my shield; I hope in your word.") Paul elaborates on the connection between strife and hope in his letter to the Romans. ("We . . . boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us . . .") The words of Jesus in the Gospel of John complete the message: "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life."

Lent, then, is not about good habits or bad habits. Instead, it is a journey: from suffering to hope, from darkness into light, from the cold of winter into the warmth of spring. We are midway through our journey. In three weeks, it will be Holy Week. May Jesus, the Light of the world, guide you on your journey through the darkness into the light of life.

Psalms 78; Jer. 7: 21-34; Rom. 4: 13-25; John 7: 37- 52

I'm struck by how each of today's readings yields tempting strands that suggest that it might connect with the others, but find that any effort to conjoin themes breaks down. So I've got to give myself over to a different means of seeking meaning, one rooted less in interpretation and more in inspiration. I'm drawn to the images of natural cataclysm that pervade each of these readings, the violence inflicted by God on the natural world and the people's questioning their faith in the face of this violence.

I suppose that in its own way, each reading seeks to prepare us for those times when it appears that God isn't in our corner, and to remind us of the virtues of steadfastness within these times of doubt. We want but God gives according to His own plan, and we do well to remember that we're not alone in expecting God's protections and being tested when they're not immediately delivered. Each verse describes the coming of deliverance in some way-- through emerging from the wilderness, through the emergence of David and Abraham as leaders, and through the confirmation of the messiah who is "raised for our justification" (Romans 5: 1-5). The passages seem collectively to express that God walks us through the wilderness in various ways-- doubts, calamities, losses, disappointments-- and affirms His plan most strongly after testing our faith.

Psalm 80, 77, 79; Jeremiah 7: 1-15; Romans 4: 1-12; John 7: 14-36

"I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on your might deeds." Psalm 77: 11-12

I seem to do a lot of my living in the past. The truth is, I spend an inordinate amount of time and energy thinking about all the things I could have done differently in my life. It is all too easy to dwell on the mistakes, failures, and missed opportunities - all of those times when I've let people down and failed to live up to my expectations for myself. All too often I look at my personal history only through the lenses of guilt, shame, and regret.

One of the exercises that is done as part of the Education for Ministry (EfM) program is a "spiritual autobiography," during which we are challenged to look at our life story in a very specific way, to look for signs of God's presence and power in the events and circumstances of our lives.

When I look at my history from that perspective, I discover all kinds of places where God's hand has been there, guiding me, shaping me, and putting people in my life who helped me along the road to where I am now. There are too many coincidences for them to be anything other than God-incidences, and it's hard not to be overwhelmed by a sense of God's loving care.

When the psalmist remembers history, he remembers it with a very specific perspective, the perspective of God's mighty acts of salvation in bringing His people out of Egypt and into the land that had been promised to them.

That same God who acted in salvation history to redeem His people, has also acted in my life. That very same God redeems my own history, making it holy and freeing me to live differently, no longer a prisoner to guilt, shame and regret, but a new creation who is able see in my history the loving-kindness of the Lord.

Psalms 23, 27, 75, 76; Jer. 5: 20- 31; Rom. 3: 19-31; John 7: 1-13

23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. 4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

One of the scripture passages for today is the 23rd Psalm. This is one of my favorite passages in the Bible, as it may be for some of you. Like many of you, I learned it as a child. It was not until adulthood I came to understand it as more than the words I had memorized so many years before. It is a passage that especially comes to mind when life turns in a difficult direction. It and others have propped me up and kept me going in low times. It reminds me of the direction in which I should be moving. It helps me find the silver linings in the events of my life and the lives of others, that on the surface look as if there could be no silver lining. How can something tragic or sad have something to teach or any good in them?

It wasn't until I was an adult, married and with children that I really learned to look for the silver linings in all that is going on around me-- the good, the OK, the not so good, and the bad. Thankfully, with God's grace, I learned that lesson many years ago and it continues to help me weather the storms of life. I hope and pray you too have learned to look for the silver linings in the events of your life and in the lives of those around you. The silver linings are not always easy to find and they are not always easy to accept as such, but with time you can find them and learn from them. I am confident if you work at it, they will comfort you as they have me. Amen.

Psalms 69, 73, 95; Jer. 5: 1-9; Rom. 2: 25- 3:18; John 5:30-47

As I read today's Gospel reading, John 5: 30-47, my first thought is control. I heard a priest once say, "I love to be in control." Don't we all?! Schedules! Agendas! What will happen today? What will happen tomorrow? What will happen next week? We want to be in control.

Jesus is telling us in this Gospel reading that God sent Him, God is endorsing Him. We are called to trust and be faithful in God-- to let go and let God be in control. Let Christ lead our lives. It seems so simple, but why is it the hardest thing in the world to do? I have asked myself that question many times. I have questioned God about this many times. Haven't we all? It is a daily struggle to Let Go and Let God. It is a struggle that we have to pray about, and then we actually have to do it! We will fail over and over again. But there is the good news, we will be forgiven every time. Thanks be to God!

Psalms 70, 71, 74; Jer. 4: 9-10, 19, 28; Rom. 2: 12-24; John 5: 19-29

Yet God my King is from of old,
working salvation in the earth.
You divided the sea by your might;
you broke the heads of the dragons in the waters.
You crushed the heads of Leviathan;
you gave him as food for the creatures of the wilderness.
You cut openings for springs and torrents;
you dried up ever-flowing streams.
Yours is the day, yours also the night;
you established the luminaries and the sun.
You have fixed all the bounds of the earth;
you made summer and winter.
Psalm 74:12-17

Perhaps it is "cheating" to pick up in the part of the Psalm where the situation seems to be turning around. If so, I'm not above it. I just thought, this time around, I might reflect on what it looks like for God to be, "working salvation in the earth," at least from my tiny vantage in the universe. I have also made a promise to myself that when I come across something unexpected or strange in scripture, I wouldn't shy away or skip over it. Dragons and sea monsters didn't seem like business as usual for the Psalms, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.

When I think of dragons, I think of a big old green lizard-things snoozing in caves atop of a pile of treasure. They hoard and fiercely defend without the slightest concern for the real vitality that the treasure affords. Then there are the sea monsters who spread chaos and wanton destruction, but who has really seen one? The uncertainty and fear they breed is enough to keep ships off the sea.

God's work of salvation in the earth is about slaying dragons and facing the tentacles from the deep. As we walk with Jesus during Lent, we prepare ourselves for the possibility of accessing the power in our lives that was hoarded up by greed and fear. After God slays the dragon, springs open up so that the revitalizing influence of our salvation might be a source of constant renewal. Once the monster is destroyed, there is order and room for creativity and light.

Psalms 72, 119:73-96; Jeremiah 3:6-18; Romans 1:28 - 2:11; John 5:1-18

In my first reading of these scriptures I had a feeling of dismay. Each Psalm speaks of God's faithfulness, truth, and constancy; and of man's nature to willfully reject His commandments, which were given to draw us toward faithfulness, truth, and constancy.

Jeremiah continues to proclaim the steadfastness of God and His commandments and man's wanton rejection of Him through refusal to obey. My dismay continues as I read in Romans of God's judgment of mankind for our rejection of His path to righteousness.

I ask myself, why? And then I read on. When I finish reading the verses in John, my dismay turns to hope. The message hasn't changed - God is still faithful, truthful, and constant. And, He has given us all that we need: the Law, the Judgment and the Love, to focus our minds, our hearts, and our will towards obedience, which grows our Faith.

I once took a class on love languages. The class taught us to recognize how our actions communicate love to others and, how those actions also communicate to others how we need to be loved. I think these verses are quite clear about how God loves us and just as clear that He desires our love back- our faithful, true, and constant love.

My prayer is that through obedience, giving of my time, talents and treasures, and looking only to Him as my guide, that I may offer Him the faithful, true, and constant love He has shown to me.

 Psalms 61, 62, 68; Jer. 2: 1-13; Rom. 1: 16-25; John 4: 43-54

The Power of DOING Nothing

--John 4: 43-54

In this passage, a man in power, an "official," is desperate for help for his dying son. He begs Jesus to help him, perhaps expecting to bring the savior to his home to lay hands on his son and heal him. But instead, Jesus tells him to…well, to do nothing: "go and your son will live." Imagine how this man must have felt. An official, he was probably accustomed to being in control, having some power to order the world around him. His son was sick, so he wanted to DO SOMETHING to make him better.

I relate. Once, my three year old son was having surgery, and at the moment they wheeled him away to anesthesia, I panicked. My stomach fell and suddenly my hands had nothing to do. I felt the sensation of falling as I walked to the waiting room and sat alone, looking at my empty hands and realizing that there was nothing I could DO. Like the official who was told to go home, I was told to DO NOTHING.

There is nothing more humbling than to be a parent when a child is sick, except maybe to be told to DO NOTHING. But the truth is that what Jesus asked of the official is what He asks of all of us: have faith. Jesus prefaces His instruction with the complaint that people have trouble believing without seeing, and He offers up the miracle of the son's healing as a sign. The official takes Jesus "at His word" and obeys. He relinquishes the control he is so comfortable with, falls into faith, and he is immediately rewarded. Before he gets home, he receives the news that his son is well.

Faith means believing without knowing, without DOING. It is a state of belief. When we are faced with helplessness, when there is nothing we can DO, as we stare at our empty hands and panic washes over us, may we remember Jesus's command to DO nothing, take Him at His word, and fall into faith.



Dance With the One Who Brought You
--Jeremiah 2: 1-13

When we think about faith, we often focus on difficult times. "Have faith!" we are told. "Your faith will see you through!" But sometimes, the most difficult thing is to have faith when things are going well. That is, we forget to give credit for our blessings and often begin thinking they are our own doing.

Often, we parents demonstrate this quality. When our child does something wrong, behaves badly, performs poorly, we blame the teacher, the coach, a circumstance. Or, we ask for help, seek a diagnosis, draw up a plan for improvement. And when that doesn't work, we ask "why me?" When the child succeeds, though, the parent beams. When a child is complimented, the parent says "thank you."

In this passage, Jeremiah expresses God's frustration with His people when they forget Him and turn to other gods instead. "I brought you into a fertile land / to eat its fruit and rich produce. But you came and defiled my land / and made my inheritance detestable." God's message reminds me of the old saying: "dance with the one who brought you."

It is easy to turn to God when we are in trouble. Faith is never easy to maintain, but it is easier when you have no other options. When things are going well, though, our human nature turns us inward, and we feel proud and self-righteous. But the truth is, God is who brought us here.

May we always remember, in bad times AND in good times, who really brought us here.

Psalms 56, 57, 58, 64, 65; Jer. 1:11-19; Rom. 1:1-15; John 4: 27-42

". . . in God I trust; I will not be afraid."

If only that were true! That's the intention of every single day: to trust in God, and to not be afraid. What is there to fear? Getting sick? Not making enough money? Losing my Mom? A thousand things… and they may happen. During fearful times, "what ifs" block the light. Gloom and despair breed in the darkness.

". . . in God I trust; I will not be afraid."

But, dear God, I am afraid, and it makes me feel weak and hidden from You. God our Father has promised to never leave us or forsake us; there is no darkness He cannot overcome. The slightest shimmer of God's presence, God's light, has the power to overcome the enormity of my darkness and weakness.

So, how can I turn this around? Let me start by presenting thank offerings to God. I am thankful for dear friends who walk with me through dark times. I am thankful for a church that strives to present God's light and promises to each other and to our community. I am thankful for a healthy husband. And most of all, I am thankful for my sweet Savior, Jesus Christ, who also walked a dark path.

Please God, today, let me walk in the light. And if not in the light, then help me walk toward the light. Please help me, help me, help me. Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.

". . . in God I trust; I will not be afraid."

Somehow that sounds a bit different now.