Category: Meditation

THE SPIRIT AND THE GIFTS ARE OURS

There are three great festivals of the Church: Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost. Pentecost was neglected for a long time and, in some ways, is not given much attention even now, if you consider that retail merchandising and greeting cards have not figured out a way to make money from it. What happened on the Day of Pentecost and why should it continue to be important to us?

Pentecost is the Greek name for the Jewish festival that took place 50 days after Passover. The Hebrew name is Shavuot. Shavuot is the second of the three major festivals (Passover being the first and Sukkot the third) and occurs exactly fifty days after the second day of Passover. This holiday marks the anniversary of the day when God’s people received the Torah at Mount Sinai.

The word "Shavuot" means “weeks.” It marks the completion of the seven-week counting period between Passover and Shavuot. During these seven weeks the Jewish people cleansed themselves of the scars of Egyptian slavery and became a holy nation ready to enter into an eternal covenant with God with the giving of the Torah. So, the day celebrates a gift from above.

Jesus had commanded his followers to wait in the city of Jerusalem until the Holy Spirit came upon them. They needed the empowerment of the Holy Spirit in order to do what he required them to do. Suddenly, their waiting was shattered by the noise of a strong driving wind. They saw what appeared to them to be tongues of fire spreading over and resting on each person there. Everyone touched became filled with the Holy Spirit. The apostles began to speak in different languages. Moving out into the street, they encountered devout people who were in Jerusalem for the feast. As the apostles preached, people heard the message in their own languages and asked, “what does it mean?” And that is the question we ask today. What does it mean that the Holy Spirit has been poured out upon us? When we baptize people in this Church, we declare that they are “sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” What will that mean for them? And, what does it mean for you who also in Baptism have been sealed by the same Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever?

The Holy Spirit creates and renews the Church.

As the Spirit spoke to Ezekiel while he was standing in the Valley of Dry Bones: “I will put my breath in them, bring them back to life, and let them live in their own land.” The Spirit who draws people to God draws them into God’s Church and there God shapes and molds them according to God’s will into the creatures they were designed to be. God’s indwelling Spirit brings order and unity, inspires, illuminates, and gives the gifts that are needed for the Church to carry out God’s mission, as it is constantly being created and renewed.

The Holy Spirit enables us to speak God’s message.

In the Acts of the Apostles, we read, “The Spirit enabled them to speak.” This is the same Spirit who called the Prophets. We are in the communications business. By that I mean we are the instruments, the delivery system for the message of God. In our words and actions, we are called to communicate that message wherever we may be. And, because it is not our message, the giver of the message provides everything that is necessary to deliver it. If we could do it on our own, we’d have to question whether it was God’s in the first place.

The Holy Spirit enables us to hear God’s message.

The Acts of the Apostles also tells us that the people gathered for the festival heard the apostles “speaking in the native language of each.” St. John tells us that Jesus said, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth.” The miracle of Pentecost was not so much a miracle of speaking as it was a miracle of hearing. Each person heard the message in a language he or she could understand. We have to first hear the message if we are going to deliver it to others.

The Holy Spirit comforts and heals us.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus refers to the Holy Spirit as “counselor,” “comforter,” “helper.” The Holy Spirit speaks to our hearts when we are hurting, afraid, angry, or struggling with the cost of discipleship. The Holy Spirit is the breath of God, the presence of God, the power of God at work in and among us to give us the sense, the awareness of God and to recognize God’s hand at work.

The Holy Spirit convicts us of our sin.

Jesus said, “And when he comes he will convince the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment.” Sometimes, we attribute this phenomenon to our conscience. For Christians, the conscience is inspired and guided by the Holy Spirit. When we become aware of our sinfulness, it is the Holy Spirit moving within us, providing us an opportunity to turn in a new direction.

The Holy Spirit assures us of our salvation.

In the eighth chapter of St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans we are told that when we do sense our need of God, we are giving the assurance of the Holy Spirit. “The Spirit bears witness with our spirit.” That’s how we know, truly know, that God loves us, forgives us, and restores us to a relationship that we cannot either create or sustain on our own.

The Holy Spirit magnifies Christ.

Jesus said, “he will glorify me because he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” St. Paul wrote to the Corinthian Christians, “No one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except in the Holy Spirit” (I Cor. 12:3). When we gather for worship and when we are sent out into the mission field, the Holy Spirit prompts us to magnify Christ in words and actions.

To be filled with the Holy Spirit is to want others to know God’s deeds in Christ. The Holy Spirit moves people to praise the mighty works of God and to offer themselves, their souls and bodies, to participate in those mighty acts for the sake of the world.

I invite you to join me in reflecting on the work of the Holy Spirit as you listen to my favorite Pentecost hymn, Come Down, O Love Divine. Together, let us seek the indwelling Spirit in our own lives and in the life of the Church.

Blessings,

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

May 20, 2021
Epiphany Through Doubt

The Reverend Ken Kesselus tells the following story:

Once when a certain preacher launched into a children’s sermon, she was confronted by a visiting child, an eight-year-old friend of a regular member. The boy was new to this church, but was a regular attendee at another congregation that did not have children’s sermons. Nevertheless, the visitor tried his best to follow the line of the preacher’s effort to connect with the children. Attempting to hook the children with something familiar before making her point, the priest asked the children to identify what she would describe. “What is fuzzy and has a long tail?” No response. “What has big teeth and climbs in trees?” Still no response. After she asked, “What jumps around a lot and gathers nuts and hides them?” the visiting boy could stand the silence no longer. He blurted out, “Look, lady, I know the answer is supposed to be ‘Jesus,’ but it sure sounds like a squirrel to me.”

Human beings usually want to give the “right” answer, the answer others expect. The eight-year-old boy had more courage than most of us might have had. He acknowledged what he thought others might want him to say, but he found a way to express his doubt.

Each year on the Second Sunday of Easter, we read the gospel account of St. Thomas the Apostle in which he expresses his own doubt about reports of the Resurrection of Jesus (John 20:19-31). He had not been in the company of the other Apostles when Jesus appeared to them that first Easter. When the others told him they had seen the Risen Savior, he couldn’t believe it. He may have wanted to “go along in order to get along” with the others, but he was compelled to express his doubt. He might have said, “I know the answer is supposed to be that I believe you saw Jesus, but it sure sounds like a ghost to me.”

A week later, Thomas had the opportunity to see for himself and confirm in his own experience that the Risen Christ was not a ghost. But for a period of time, he was skeptical. His questioning and doubting must have been as hard for him as it was for the little boy trying to understand the illustration about the squirrel. Because we too struggle with what may seem clear to others and with accepted norms, we can identify with Thomas and the little boy.

I am grateful to be a part of a Church where it is safe for people to express their doubts and ask their questions and challenge accepted norms. It is a Church where we don’t have to mindlessly accept what seems to be the accepted answer or point of view. It is a Church where it is okay to be doubtful, confused, and skeptical. It is a Church where we can remain in the company of others as we struggle with matters of doubt and faith. It is a Church where from childhood we are encouraged to ask questions and to wonder as we journey toward faith.

The example of Thomas’ honesty and forthrightness fosters hope in us and empowers us in our seasons of doubt. We need that kind of faith community as we wonder where God fits in with harsh and frightening realities of life and death. We need a faith community where we can be encountered by the Risen Christ who can lead us to the truth, just as he led Thomas. In such a community, we can work through our uncertainties and emerge on the other side with an even stronger faith, just as Thomas did.

The story of Thomas affirms that doubt can give way to faith, just as death is overcome by life. It assures us that the God we worship can handle our doubts and fears. It tells us that honesty is necessary in our relationship with God and God’s own people in times of uncertainty as well as in times of confidence.

The Apostles were blessed because they saw the Risen Christ and believed. The chief requirement for those first Apostles was that they were witnesses to the Resurrection. Their subsequent ministry was to nurture faith among others who had not seen. Jesus said to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The ongoing work of this Church is to continue the ministry of the Apostles and foster the even greater blessing that comes from walking by faith and not by sight.And for every generation of Christians since the first one, if we are honest about it, we have to admit that faith in Jesus Christ requires at least some struggle with doubt.

That’s really what Easter is all about. We are Easter People, traveling together on a marvelous journey toward those faith-filled moments when we discover the Risen One at work in our lives and in our world – moments so profound that we can only exclaim with Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”

Blessings,

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

April 8, 2021
Easter is more than a day

During the forty days of Lent each year we spend time getting ready for the celebration of Easter. There is fasting, self-denial, prayer, intensified devotion, scripture study, and other disciplines designed to cleanse our hearts.

Then, comes the big celebration. Easter. Like so many Christian holy days, Easter seems to disappear the next day as life returns to "normal." But Easter should be more than that to us! It certainly was to those early disciples. Easter is more than a day!

Easter is a season of celebration. The Risen Christ walked among his disciples for forty days after his resurrection. He taught them, ate with them, prayed with them, and loved them. Before he was taken up into heaven, he promised to send the Comforter, the Holy Spirit. The promise was fulfilled on the fiftieth day when they were in Jerusalem celebrating the Jewish feast of Shavuot, the Feast of Weeks. In Greek, it is called Pentecost. Pentecost is seven weeks, or fifty days, after the observance of Passover and commemorates the spring wheat harvest. This feast has also been associated with the remembrance of the giving of the Law to Moses. As the law was written on tablets of stone, the Spirit would write God's law upon the hearts of believers. When Moses came down from the mountain, he found God's people worshipping an idol and 3,000 of them died. When the Spirit was given, the disciples were obediently waiting in Jerusalem. 3,000 people were saved! The New People of the New Covenant were empowered by the Life-giving Spirit to be Christ's Body in the world, proclaiming to everyone the Easter message that Christ is alive.

Easter is a lifestyle. We are Easter People! As those early disciples in Jerusalem, Emmaus, and Galilee experienced the living presence of the Risen Christ, so we recognize that he stands among us today. To paraphrase Jesus, "believing is seeing." When we hear the Word and share in the Holy Meal, it is easier to experience his presence "enthroned upon the praises of his people." The challenging part comes when we go about our day-to-day lives. As Christ's Body touches the world through you and me when we are apart from one another, do you suppose the Living Presence is felt?

Easter is our only hope. St. Peter writes, "By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…" (I Peter 1:3). There is a lot of help out there for people with all kinds of needs. But Christians believe that beyond help, people need hope. So what if you are physically or emotionally well. Life is just not complete without hope. The Easter faith gives the world hope.

So, don't let Easter fade like the blooms on your Easter Lily! Easter is more than a day; it is a season, a lifestyle, and a faith that fills our lives with hope.

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

April 1, 2021
How is it with your soul?

A friend said to me the other day, “Maybe it’s just me, but 2021 is beginning to look a lot like 2020.” He’s right; it kind of is, isn’t it? An impeachment trial in the Senate, more pandemic, challenges of trying to get everybody vaccinated, brutally cold weather, a breakdown in the Texas power grid, loss of water pressure, and more. Surprises, disappointments, inconvenience, unfamiliar emotional terrain, and rising anxiety levels as we wonder what’s next. It’s enough to try one’s soul.

How is it with your soul? The Season of Lent calls us to grapple with that question every year, but this year it has a different intensity. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe the mounting pressures can move us to seek the help we need for the care of our souls. Maybe we will be more intentional in taking advantage of the spiritual disciplines of self-examination, repentance, prayer, fasting, self-denial, and reading and meditating on God’s holy Word. Maybe we’ll read the daily Lenten Reflections that members of our parish have shared with us.

If our faith teaches us anything, it teaches us that our God is the gracious Lover of our souls who will never leave or forsake us. In fact, that is the one thing that can never be taken away from us, no matter how bad things may be. In Baptism, we are “marked as Christ’s own for ever.”

The familiar hymn It is Well With My Soul was written after traumatic events in the life of Horatio Spafford. The first two were the death of his four-year-old son and the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, which ruined him financially. His business interests were further hit by the economic downturn of 1873, at which time he had planned to travel to England with his family on the SS Ville du Havre. In a late change of plan, he sent the family ahead while he was delayed on business. While crossing the Atlantic, the ship sank rapidly after a collision with a sea vessel, the Loch Earn. All four of Spafford's daughters perished. His wife Anna survived. Shortly afterwards, as Spafford traveled to meet his grieving wife, he was inspired to write these words when his ship passed near where his daughters had died. Phillip Bliss composed the tune for the hymn and called it Ville du Havre, from the name of the stricken vessel.

The series of tragedies could have broken Spafford. By God's grace, he dealt with the question, "How is it with your soul." The outcome was his echo of the response of the Shunammite woman in her encounter with the prophet Elijah, "It is well." Moreover, the hymn he wrote about the experience has brought reassurance and peace to countless souls for a century and a half.

So, I ask again, how is it with your soul? Seize the opportunity Lent provides to grapple with that question. Observe the Lenten disciplines. Your clergy are always available to help, as are members of the parish who have emerged from their own experiences with renewed spiritual health.

Blessings,

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

February 18, 2021
Getting Ready for Lent

Next Wednesday, we will begin our annual observance of the Season of Lent. Lent is a time for engaging our new life in Christ more deeply, risking new levels of trust. The purpose of Lent is not to dwell on suffering, or to spend forty days bewailing our manifold sins and wickedness for the sake of feeling our pain. Lent is about engaging in the ongoing process of renewal, regeneration, and new birth; it is about encouraging us to trust and to risk going forth and being sent out with the promise of new life.

Lent may require us to “think outside the box” of piety and religiosity, just as Abram and Sarai had to break with their past, and Saul and Nicodemus the Pharisees with theirs. The promises of God bear not only upon the future of our individual lives in relationship to God, but also upon the future of our parish, our diocese, and our Church as a whole.

To respond to the promise for new life means we have to be ready to redraw and rename the places on the journey. When the ancient ones told the story of Abram and Sarai, they were also inscribing new place names and creating a new social geography on the territories of their migrations in company with God.

God may be inviting us to rethink how we do Church in light of the socio-geographies of the times we live in. When Saul the Pharisee became Paul the Apostle as we know him, he brought new words, images, and new community structures into being, “calling into existence things which do not exist,” by trustfully following Jesus into new life.

Lent is for listening to that call in our own lives. In the words of James Russell Lowell, “New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth.” Lent is for careful thinking about how to step into the as-yet-unmapped future, to deepen our relationship to God, to trust the picture of new life in Christ, and for identifying the breaks with the past that we need to make in order to respond to the promises of God.

I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word.

Blessings,

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

February 11, 2021
What Moves You?

Mark uses miracle stories in his gospel to illustrate a point the way Matthew and Luke use parables for that purpose in theirs. Jesus’ cleansing of a leper as recorded in Mark 1:40-45 is an example.

A man who was afflicted with leprosy confronted Jesus. The leper broke the code of ceremonial cleanliness just by speaking to Jesus. It was a very bold thing to do. Here is one who is considered unclean and wretched by his people because he has contracted a hideous disease. Leprosy represented sin to the people of Jesus’ day and, like sin, it was considered contagious, more to be cleansed than healed.

A leper was banished from the community and had to dwell alone or with other lepers outside the community. This man had to go about with torn clothes, bared head, and a covering upon his upper lip. As he went, he was required to give warning of his polluted presence with the cry, “Unclean! Unclean!” The leper had not only to bear the physical pain of his disease, he had to bear the mental anguish and heartbreak of being completely banished from human society and totally shunned. So, it is incredible that he would approach Jesus at all, let alone dare to speak to him.

Even more remarkable than that is the fact that Jesus responded to him as he did. He could have run away. He could have had the leper killed. He could have reacted with horror. But he didn’t. Instead, we are told in the story that his response was one of compassion and understanding. Jesus was “moved with pity.” He broke the code and defiled himself when he reached out and touched the leper. In so doing, his power over evil was demonstrated by a miraculous cure. He broke the law and, at the same time, he fulfilled it.

Then he sent the man to the priest and in so doing placed before the religious establishment a difficult problem. Only the priest could certify the cure. To reject it would be to break the code. To accept it would be to acknowledge Jesus’ power and authority. To make matters even worse, this cleansed leper couldn’t keep all of this to himself, even though Jesus had asked him to. Is it any surprise?

In this miracle story, we see that it was Jesus’ nature to be moved by the sight of human need. But sympathy isn’t worth a dime unless it leads to action. Jesus was first moved to pity, then to action. He continues to be moved to compassion and he still reaches out and touches those in need of help. People who have experienced this compassionate power find themselves moved. They become enthusiastic about life and they glorify God in whatever they do.

I’ve always enjoyed the movie Bad News Bears. In it, there is a character named Lupus. Lupus is a little boy who had a runny nose all the time and was smaller than the others. He had learned to stay in the background because that’s where everyone else told him he belonged. One day, some boys on another team put ketchup in his hat and slapped it back on his head. One of his teammates took both of them on in defense of Lupus. He lost the fight, but afterwards, Lupus said to him, “You’re the first person who ever took up for me.” A short time later, the coach sent Lupus in to play during the championship game and he actually caught a fly ball. Nothing could ever stop Lupus again because someone finally believed in him. That gave him the courage to get out of the background and take his God-given place as a full-fledged member of the team.

Like the story of the cleansing of the leper, the story of Lupus is a miracle story. It tells us what can happen on an infinitely greater plane when Jesus Christ touches a human life. His touch tells us that he believes in us and when we know that touch, we’ll never be the same. We’ll have a new perspective on life, a new confidence in ourselves, and a new ability to reach out to others, especially those who have been pushed into the background, marginalized, and condemned.

Today is a good day to keep my eyes open to watch for a miracle. Today is a good day to experience a miracle for myself. Today is a good day to help a miracle happen for someone else. God, let me live today in miraculous expectation!

Blessings,

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

February 4, 2021
A Response to a Lawless Mob

Yesterday, the United States Capitol building, a symbol of our nation’s covenant to live together as one people governed and protected by laws, was assaulted by a lawless mob, urged on by reckless and violent political rhetoric. While we are relieved that order was restored in the Capitol, we can’t ignore the fact that a national symbol was violated and desecrated. It’s going to take some time for the soul of America to recover.

This event ceased to be about politics when the boundaries that protect our common life were breached. The work of Congress was interrupted by violence and intimidation. It was an assault on democracy itself and calls for a united response in asserting the shared values that bind us together. We need to remember that our liberty is upheld by those shared values, those objective standards that bring order to the way we live together.

Many of those values are enshrined in the Constitution, which is itself an objective basis for law and order in our land. I want to emphasize three that are essential for the restoration of our national life.

Truth – One value that is necessary for our life together is a commitment to truth. Lies and conspiracy theories have become so common that in recent days I’ve found myself wondering if, in addition to an epidemic of COVID-19, we might also be experiencing an epidemic of psychosis, with millions of people believing hallucinations are true. When a lie brings harm to the life or reputation of another, it is bearing false witness. That’s an objective standard that we believe to be given to us by God.

Justice – Then there’s justice. The classic symbol of justice is a blindfolded figure holding a balanced scale in one hand and sword in the other. The scale is for weighing the evidence with the truth. The sword represents the concept that justice can be swift and final. The blindfold symbolizes the philosophy that justice should be rendered “without passion or prejudice.” Considering only the facts on scale, justice does not let emotional impressions of the accused enter into the implicit equation. When our legal system is misused, when the evidence is lacking or false, when justice is delayed, our life together is deprived of confidence of fairness before the facts of the case and the judgment of Justice.

Trust – We also have to be able to trust our leaders and one another. Betrayal of trust wounds the ones betrayed and erodes something essential in our ability to work together and promote the common good. Trust begins with each one of us being trustworthy. If I want to be trusted, I must be trustworthy. Maybe that’s why in the Scout Law the first law is “A Scout is trustworthy.”

None of these objective standards requires a belief in God. However, those of us who do profess that belief bear the responsibility of the conviction that such standards are in harmony with God’s will. Living faithfully in accordance with the will of God is a way we honor God because in so doing we honor our neighbor. If you turn to the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:2-17 and Deuteronomy 5:6-21) you will notice that the first four pertain to how we are to honor God and the next six are about how we honor people. Jesus summed up the entire Law of God when he said, “The first commandment is this: Hear, O Israel: The Lord your God is the only Lord. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these” (Mark 12:29-31). St. John took explained it this way, “Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen” (I John 4:20).

For Christians, love is not essentially a feeling. Love is how we act regardless of how we feel. Love is how we behave toward God and our neighbor because it is the right thing to do even if we don't feel like it. There is an objectivity about such love. Love is real not because of how I feel but because love is of God. Love transcends my subjective experience and will continue with or without me. For my part, I'll hang on to that love. And, when I fail in love and let go, I'll grab hold again.

We can’t change the unloving behavior that occurred at our nation’s Capitol yesterday. But we can have an influence on the response. We can love God and our fellow citizens by seeking truth, pursuing justice, and fostering trust. And we can expect the same from those we elect to public office.

Let us pray.

O God, you have bound us together in a common life. Help us, in the midst of our struggles for justice and truth, to confront one another without hatred or bitterness, and to work together with mutual forbearance and respect; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

(The Book of Common Prayer, page 824)

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

January 7, 2021
Will the New Year Really be New?

As I reflect on the past year, with enormous help from the media, I'm faced with these questions: Will the new year really be new? Are we going to be in for more of the same with the Coronavirus Pandemic? Will we make any progress in healing the racism, wealth inequality, and political divisions in our nation? What's the difference between December 31 and January 1? Really? Will January 1 be any different from December 31? Why is it we make such a fuss over the changing of the year?

The fact of the matter is that even those among us who are most committed to following COVID protocols will be engaged in some degree of revelry on New Year’s Eve. I suspect even many of the “stay the course” brigade will have a list of resolutions. Our lists might include things like losing weight, getting more exercise, having a healthier diet, doing a better job of recycling, gaining discipline in attending worship and saying our prayers, spending more time with the family, reading more books, wearing a face covering in public, and being a generally all-around-nicer person.

I have friends who are opposed to new year's resolutions. They believe having resolutions only sets one up for failure. That may be so, but then any resolutions, goals, or objectives do the same thing, don't they? Any attempt at change, growth, or progress involves some risk of failure. I happen to like resolutions because I believe it is better to fail at trying to do something worthy than to succeed at doing nothing.

With or without resolutions, I ask again, how will January 1 be any different than December 31 or any other day?

If there is a difference, maybe it is one of perception. The slate is not really going to be wiped clean, but we like to try to see it that way. And, in so doing, perhaps there is at least some extra room for something new to emerge in our consciousness, in our pattern of behavior, or in our way of life. Maybe, just maybe, looking at this particular tomorrow opens up room for something new and different. If that happens, we may understand God's words to the Prophet Isaiah, “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it” (Isa. 43:19)?

So, I'm going make some resolutions. And, I'm going to look at January 1 as a different kind of day and as the start of something new – a transition – and pray with all my might that God will have something to do with it so that it will not just be up to me. When I am forced by circumstances to spend more time alone, I can use that time to open up to God and God’s new thing. Maybe my first step, or yours, will create space for grace to see things through. Let’s do it together!

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

December 30, 2020
The Wondrous Gift

While visiting the Holy Land in 1865, The Rev. Phillips Brooks rode on horseback from Jerusalem to Bethlehem to assist in the Christmas Eve midnight service. That blessed moment in his life inspired him to write one of the most cherished of all Christmas carols, “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”

How silently, how silently, the wondrous Gift is giv’n;
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His Heav’n.
No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.

God in the flesh IS the “wondrous gift” that is given to those whose hearts are meek enough and trusting enough for the gift to make a difference. So, come. Together, in our hearts, let us go to Bethlehem to receive this wondrous gift so the world of need at our doorstep will become a better place when we step into it.

Have a Merry Christmas!

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

December 22, 2020
What I Am Giving God This Year ~ My Trust

I'm reflecting on the custom of gift-giving, which is grounded in God's greatest gift to us. We spend a lot of time selecting just the right gifts for our loved ones. And what shall I give to God? Advent provides me with the opportunity to consider that question.

Today, I'm thinking the gift of my trust is something God would value.

John the Baptizer had the task of pointing others to a greatness into which he himself did not enter. That required a great deal of trust on his part. In a Bible study course on the gospels, when we came to Matthew 11:2-11, the passage where John sends his disciples to ask Jesus if he is the Messiah, the question arose, “Was John having second thoughts? Did he have doubts that Jesus was the long-awaited anointed one?”

I don’t think John was having second thoughts about Jesus. I think John realized his particular task was just about complete. His fate was sealed. The last thing he needed to do was to send his own disciples to Jesus so that they could join in following him. It was not John but John’s disciples, therefore, who needed convincing that day. So they said to Jesus: “Are you he who is to come, or shall we look for another?” And, Jesus reply was meant for them that they might believe – as eyewitnesses to his Messianic work: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And, blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.”

Someone tells of how from the windows of his house every evening he used to watch the lamplighter go along the streets lighting the lamps. But the lamplighter was blind. He was bringing others light that he would never see. Like the lamplighter, John had to trust that his work had a purpose beyond what he could see with his own eyes.

Trust! That’s something I want to give God this year. But it is a costly gift.

It is so easy to fall into doubt and fear, especially during this horrible pandemic. The best way to resist doubt and fear is to practice trust; Trust God and one another to get us through. Frankly, practicing trust is harder than giving in to doubt and fear. We don't need God's grace to be afraid, do we. We need God's grace to be able to trust.

When I turn my life over to God, I give God leadership. Doing that means I will advance even though I do not know where God will lead me. It means I have to reshape my thinking to make my thoughts large enough for God to fit in! I have to let the size of my trust set the size of my aims and objectives in life so that my expectations match God’s abilities.

One of the things my Father and I always did together at this time of year was to string lights on the roof of our house. At first, my help was confined to checking the bulbs. Then, later, I could stand on a ladder and hang the ones under the eves. Finally, I was allowed to get up on the roof. But that required assistance. I needed a boost getting up and help getting down. The booster and the helper was my dad. If I wanted to help put up the lights, I’d have to trust him not to drop me. Because of that experience, I knew Dad could be trusted not to drop me.

The everlasting arms of God are even more trustworthy. They undergird all of us. They boost us up and they keep us from falling. Blessed are we when we trust God above all others.

I’m giving God my trust this year.

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

December 10, 2020