Have you ever felt like prayer is a one-way conversation? I have.
It occurs to me that it must seem like that to God quite often, with me doing all of the talking and none of the listening.
For that reason, I'm going to devote myself to listening prayer during Holy Week.
"My sheep hear my voice, and they know me, and they follow me." – Jesus (John 10:27)
The Annunciation
Luke 1:26-38
So much of our conversation regarding faith is centered on what each of us is doing about it. We are preoccupied with human liberty, some notion of “the individual,” and overly concerned with the subjective experience of God. We tend to want to play the leading role in the story, which we are writing, and we offer God a supporting role in a cast of thousands. We like to be in control of our universe.
The Annunciation is a reminder to me that what I'm doing about my faith is always in response to what God is first doing in my life, even when I'm not thinking of it in that way. God sent Gabriel to make an announcement to Mary about the role she would play in God's story, not to ask her to "volunteer."
Like Mary, we are often perplexed when God enters our lives uninvited and calls us to do what seems humanly impossible.
Reflect with me on that thought today in pursuit of a more God-centered and objective life of faith.
St. Augustine was aware of the divine initiative when he wrote, “Thou didst strike on my heart with Thy word and I loved Thee.” – from Confessions (397-398 A.D.) If you know anything about Augustine's life, you know he started out as a very self-absorbed and strong-willed individual. It would take a major epiphany to get his attention. God's undeserved grace knocked on Augustine's heart and by God's grace he was able to love God in response.
C.S. Lewis offers this perspective:
Christianity “does not tell of a human search for God at all, but of something done by God for, to, and about Man. And the way in which it is done is selective, undemocratic, to the highest degree. After the knowledge of God had been universally lost or obscured, one man from the whole earth (Abraham) is picked out. He is separated (miserably enough, we may suppose) from his natural surroundings, sent into a strange country, and made the ancestor of a nation who are to carry the knowledge of the true God. Within this nation there is further selection: some die in the desert, some remain behind in Babylon. There is further selection still. The process grows narrower and narrower, sharpens at last into one small bright point like the head of a spear. It is a Jewish girl at her prayers. All humanity (so far as concerns its redemption) has narrowed to that” (Chapter 14, Miracles:A Preliminary Study, Harper Collins, 2001).
And, because I love the poetry and music of our faith so much, this 19th Century hymn comes to mind:
I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
he moved my soul to seek him, seeking me;
it was not I that found, O Savior true;
no, I was found of thee.Thou didst reach forth thy hand and mine enfold;
I walked and sank not on the storm-vexed sea;
'twas not so much that I on thee took hold,
as thou, dear Lord, on me.I find, I walk, I love, but oh, the whole
of love is but my answer, Lord, to thee;
for thou wert long beforehand with my soul,
always thou lovedst me.
Maybe today would be a good day to say with Mary, “Let it be with me according to your word.”
I recently attended a workshop on reconciliation during which Episcopal priest and theologian Michael Battle introduced me to "Eleven Proven Techniques to Help You Become Depressed and Miserable" by Charles B. Beckert, Ph.D. I commend them to you as part of your Lenten self-examination.
1. Dwell on past mistakes and failures. This is most effective when you focus on things that cannot be changed.
2. Set unrealistic expectations for yourself and others. Expect perfection TODAY. This way you can guarantee failure.
3. Constantly compare yourself with others. To get the most out of this technique, compare your worst traits with their best.
4. Avoid all involvement and responsibility. It would be unwise to try something new and risk success and satisfaction.
5. Remain negative and problem oriented. Spend all the energy and effort you can criticizing and judging yourself and others. There are always faults to be found if you look long enough.
6. Allow yourself and others to be controlled by people and circumstances. This way you can dislike yourself for being weak and others for controlling you.
7. Internalize and personalize the problems of others. Believe that you are somehow to blame and should have the responsibility to make things right.
8. Don’t forgive yourself for anything. You deserve to be unhappy. To really suffer,hold long and deep grudges against yourself as further proof of your unworthiness.
9. Seek isolation and avoid contact with those who care about you. Be cautious and reject any help offered.
10.Do everything you can to please others. Believe that your personal value depends on their acceptance of you. You might find that compromising your standards and values for someone else will help you feel even worse.
11.Base your worth as a person on external things. View things as “How you look”(appearance), “What you can do” (performance), and “What you have”(possessions), as measures of your personal value. In other words, love yourself conditionally.
NOTE: If you really want to be unhappy and miserable, do several of these at the same time. Remember, the more of these you can make a part of your life, the worse you will feel.
If by chance you are not happy being depressed and miserable, turn each of these statements around and do just the opposite. You could discover miracle.
Here's a wonderful way to keep a Holy Lent, by William Arthur Ward:
• Fast from judging others; Feast on the Christ dwelling in them.
• Fast from emphasis on differences; Feast on the unity of life.
• Fast from apparent darkness; Feast on the reality of light.
• Fast from thoughts of illness; Feast on the healing power of God.
• Fast from words that pollute; Feast on phrases that purify.
• Fast from discontent; Feast on gratitude.
• Fast from anger; Feast on patience.
• Fast from pessimism; Feast on optimism.
• Fast from worry; Feast on divine order.
• Fast from complaining; Feast on appreciation.
• Fast from negatives; Feast on affirmatives.
• Fast from unrelenting pressures; Feast on unceasing prayer.
• Fast from hostility; Feast on non-resistance.
• Fast from bitterness; Feast on forgiveness.
• Fast from self-concern; Feast on compassion for others.
• Fast from personal anxiety; Feast on eternal truth.
• Fast from discouragements; Feast on hope.
• Fast from facts that depress; Feast on verities that uplift.
• Fast from lethargy; Feast on enthusiasm.
• Fast from thoughts that weaken; Feast on promises that inspire.
• Fast from shadows of sorrow; Feast on the sunlight of serenity.
• Fast from idle gossip; Feast on purposeful silence.
• Fast from problems that overwhelm; Feast on prayer that [strengthens].
What do Christians mean when we use the word faith? Often, we are speaking of a set of beliefs or doctrines. But there is a more important meaning without which all our doctrines and words are empty.
That more important meaning has to do with hearing and responding to God when God reaches out to us, offering us a promise, wooing us, calling us into a living redemptive relationship. Scriptures for the Second Sunday in Lent this year reveal a pattern having to do with God's invitation into a covenant relationship and our response to it. It is a pattern duplicated in dozens of similar stories throughout the Bible. And, it is a pattern we can recognize in our own lives today. It goes like this:
We see it in the life of Abraham and Sarah. We see it in the life of Moses. We see it in the life of Jeremiah. We see it in the life of Mary and Joseph. We see it in the Apostle Paul.
And, of course, we see it in the life of Jesus. In his baptism and on the mount of Transfiguration there is the call. In the wilderness there is the question and the divine reassurance that comes to him. Then, there is the faithful response.
When we meet Jesus in this Sunday's Gospel reading (Luke 13:31-35), he is ministering to people up in the Galilean territory. Some friendly Pharisees have come to warn him that the tetrarch of that region, Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great, is out to get him. They urge him to leave the area. He gives them a response that is to Herod but also to God. "I will finish what I need to do here but then I am going on my way to Jerusalem where my work will be fulfilled." He does not let either the warning of his friends or the threat of his foe deter him from what God has called him to do and the promise which lies before him.
In his book, Living Faith While Holding Doubts, Martin B. Copenhaver writes, "There are times when we must make a 100% commitment to something about which we are only 51% certain" (Pilgrim Press: Cleveland, OH, 1989).
But let's be clear about something. Faith, in this sense, is not a momentary phenomenon, an act at one point in time. Faith is a long-term trust, a committed, continuous response to the promises of God. Out of real doubts and deep questions, Abram ventures forth with God. The venturing forth does not erase those doubts and questions. Rather, he gathers up his doubts and stumbles on behind God into a future on the basis of nothing but the promise. This is what we Christians mean when we say, "faith."
John Dillenberger says that in Christianity, the term faith refers to the "dynamic and vital stance of the believer's dependence on God…faith is a living confidence and trust in God in the experience of knowing God's gracious presence as manifest in Christ…a reality that one would not have unearthed by oneself but that has come to be present as a sort of miracle, a happening that encompasses but does not seem to be dependent either on one's seeking or on fleeing the divine (A New Handbook of Christian Theology, Nashville: Abingdon, 1992, p.182).
God promised Abraham that he would be a blessing to all the people of the earth and that the promise would be extended to his descendants forever. The old Rabbis used to teach that when God promised Abraham that his descendants would be like the dust, he was referring not only to numbers but to the fact that they would outlast those who trampled upon them. St. Paul tells us that all who trust God the way Abraham did are his descendants, not just those who have his genes. Jesus shows us that the way of the cross is the way of faith. God's promise of a relationship, a peace surpassing understanding, a permanent place at the banquet table of our heavenly Father, is absolutely dependable.
When God calls to you, how do you answer? With doubts, anxieties, fears? You are not alone! But can you listen beyond them to God's reassuring voice, calling you to trust God to lead you through them, perhaps even to use those obstacles to faith as bridges into the future where he is trying to get you to go with him? Can you say, I'm 51% sure, Lord, but I'll trust you with the other 49%? If you can, you are not far from the kingdom of God.
The covenant narrative found in Genesis 15:1-18 gives us a rare glimpse into some of the liturgical practices of the ancient patriarchs and an insight into how they understood their relationship to God. The story describing a covenant and the ceremony that sealed it was passed down through oral tradition for several generations before it was written in the form we read today.
The story begins with a visit from the LORD to Abram. The patriarch's name has not yet been changed to Abraham. The encounter is set in the context of a vision and later a deep sleep. The LORD tells Abram that he is favored and will receive a great reward. Abram is concerned because he does not have a natural heir. Nevertheless, the LORD promises Abram that he will not remain childless and that his descendants will be as numerous as the stars.
Abram trusted God's promises ("believed the LORD") and because of that he was considered to be in a right relationship with the LORD ("righteous"). St. Paul later uses Abram as an example in his explanation of "justification by faith" in Romans 4:3. In fact, for Paul, Abraham is the paradigm of justification.
The verses that follow deal, not with sacrifice, but with an obscure covenant ceremony called the "cutting of the covenant." Animals were killed and their carcasses were split in half. The person or persons involved in the ritual would walk between them and curses were called down if the covenant was not honored. The images of a flaming torch and a smoking fire pot are symbols of the divine presence, reinforcing the belief that the LORD was confirming the covenant.
God always initiates the covenant and our role is one of response. A covenant differs from a contract in that both parties to a covenant are bound to uphold their promises even if the other party does not. the story of the People of God is the story of God's faithfulness in the face of our unfaithfulness. Instead of cursing us, God comes to us and calls us back into a right and just relationship.
Ultimately, God's most profound act was to make covenant with the world through Jesus, though St. Paul makes it clear in Romans 9-11 that the new covenant does not take the place of the old one – it expands it. The Abrahamic Covenant was initiated for the benefit of Abraham and his descendants, who would be used by God to bring blessings to others. It is still valid. "For the gifts and calling of God are irrevocable" (Romans 11:29). The Christ Covenant was initiated for the world world and for all people, including you and me.
We don't carve up animals and pass through the carcasses with smoking fire pot and flaming torch. Instead, the covenant ceremony for us is Holy Baptism, in which we are joined to Christ in his death and resurrection, sealed by the Holy Spirit, and "marked as Christ's own for ever."
Sarah Henning, the Features Editor for the Lawrence Journal-World, asked me to respond to a question for "Faith Forum," which is a weekly Saturday column in which two local religious figures share their views on a topic. The topic for this week is "In this day and age, is gluttony still a sin?" I suppose the question is related to the season of Lent. Here is my response:
If sin is seeking our own will instead of God’s will, thereby distorting our relationship with God, others, and creation itself, and gluttony is overconsumption of the gifts God provides, then in light of what we now know about the impacts of overconsumption, there is more reason than ever to consider gluttony a sin.
The biblical revelation makes us conscious that we were intended to have a dynamic relationship with our Creator. The privilege of stewardship is a vocation given to no other creature. Caring for creation involves consideration for the needs of others. When my overconsumption (gluttony) results in a shortage of the necessities of life for others whom God also created and loves, my relationship with God, other people, and creation is distorted.
As much as 64% of the adult U.S. population is overweight. One-third are obese. The chief causes are simple: eating more food than the body needs, drinking too much alcohol, and getting too little exercise. The impact on healthcare alone is startling. Studies indicate that increases in the prevalence of obesity in the U.S. accounts for 12% of the growth in health spending.
Our appetites are enormous in a world where people are starving. The World Health Organization estimates that one-third of the world is well-fed, one-third is under-fed, and one-third is starving. During the time you’ve been reading this, at least 200 people have died of starvation. Over 4 million will die this year.
This condition is a distortion of God’s vision. To live my life in a gluttonous way contributes to the perpetuation of the distortion. So, yes, gluttony is still a sin. Since I’m 20 lb. overweight, I’m among the sinners and need to repent. Better stewardship of the body God has given me expresses love for God and for my neighbor.
P.S. The following sources were helpful to me in preparing my response and I commend them to others who are exploring the relationship between gluttony, obesity, and world hunger.
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention
The official feast day for the Transfiguration of Our Lord is August 6. Since it is normally not on a Sunday, it doesn't get much attention. However, the planners of the Sunday lectionary have placed the Transfiguration on the Last Sunday After the Epiphany each year. You can read Luke's account here.
Peter, James, and John were with Jesus on the mountaintop when they saw this itinerant rabbi in a whole new light. It was one of the most powerful and numinous of all the manifestations of Jesus as the Messiah. They heard the voice of God confirming the divine nature and mission of the Only Begotten.
The appearance of Moses the Lawgiver and Elijah the Prophet assure us that Jesus was the One who had come to fulfill the Law and the Prophets. It was as if Moses and Elijah were passing their ministries on to Jesus the Messiah for him to complete.
Peter's suggestion that they build dwellings and take up residence in the experience reminds us of our tendency to want to stop the procession. When something wonderful happens, we feel as if it can't get any better than this and we want to preserve everything just the way it is. But Jesus had to come down from the mountain, respond to human need, and face the cross. Mountaintop experiences have their place. But there is always more to be done in the mission to which we are called.
I once heard about a university commencement in which the president's lapel microphone remained on as he was presenting the diplomas to the graduates, broadcasting his voice as he said to each one of them, "Congratulations! Keep moving."
Perhaps that is a message for us when we have an epiphany, a mountaintop experience. It is an important and wonderful thing, but not an end in itself. We draw inspiration and derive courage from it and we keep moving toward new opportunities God is preparing for us to walk in. "Congratulations! Keep moving."
Next Sunday's gospel is Luke 5:1-11. It is the story of Jesus' encounter with Simon, James, and John on the shore of Lake Gennesaret (the Sea of Galilee). You might want to read the story here to refresh your memory of their miraculous catch of fish and how Jesus told them they would be catching people.
The Greek word zogron, which means "catching," was commonly used of teachers: they "caught" their students and brought them new life. At dinner one evening, my wife, Gay, who is a high school English teacher, was talking about a new data projector she had been issued by her school. She explained how she can project a movie on an entire classroom wall for the students to watch and she described their response to a movie she wanted them to see. One of our dinner companions exclaimed, "You caught them!" That is what Jesus means when he says to Simon, James, and John, "don't be afraid; from now on you will be catching people."
The sense in which the followers of Jesus are called to "catch" people has to do with inclusion in a redemptive, prophetic, community of faith. We are woven into a network. Someone has said, "Christianity is more easily caught than taught." Another person expressed it like this, "We belong before we believe." Our life and witness as disciples, students, followers of Jesus Christ is not done in isolation either from Jesus or from the community of faith.
The First Baptist Church of Austin, Texas is remarkable for its progressive faith and its architecture. It is one of the few Southern Baptist Churches with the pulpit on the side instead of in the center. A large communion table sits in the center, surrounded by seats. Rising above the table in a recessed area are about four stories of organ pipes. And draped in the opening in front of the pipes are two enormous fish nets. I don't know that I've ever seen a more powerful reminder of the network of disciples Jesus has called to carry on his work in the world.
As we live and grow in our relationship with him and with one another, we are woven into this amazingly strong and reliable net that the Lover of our souls casts out into the world so that his love manifested among us may catch others, draw them in, and give them life. This net really works!