Epiphany Week

 

Happy Epiphany or is it Merry Epiphany?  I always get so confused on the proper way to wish you a holy, awe-filled, and mysterious Epiphany.  I pray you have read Matthew 2:1-12.  I pray you have held in your hands the three Wise Ones.  I pray you are finding ways to stay open to God’s grace guiding and love leading you in these early days of 2021. 

Even though Matthew doesn’t specify, tradition teaches us that there are three Wise Men.  We assumed three because there are three gifts mentioned and it would not be wise to show up uninvited at a home without a hostess gift, right?  (I am joking here).  The church even went so far as to give them names; Melchior, Caspar and Balthazar.  Good old Balthazar always the one with a quick joke and Melchior could sing like an angel and Caspar was such a friendly ghost.  Just kidding.

If you Google their names you might discover, “Melchior was the name of a Persian scholar; Caspar was said to have been from India; and Balthazar was the name a Babylonian scholar.  There is a variation on the name Casper, Gasper, which is found in the book, The Acts of Thomas (as in the dude in the Bible who doubted).  The earliest we find these names are in a Greek manuscript probably composed in Alexandria around 500, and which has been translated into Latin.  Just so you know, Syrian Christians name the Magi: Larvandad, Gushnasaph, and Hormisdas

Our imaginations have filled in the spaces between the small words of print in your scriptures.  Our imaginations have written in the margins of our Bibles.  This is good.  What is difficult, even damaging, is when what we as humans have created becomes written in stone traditions that can never be challenged or changed.  Rather, I pray we would continue to let scripture awaken our imaginations and for us to write our own words in the spaces between and the margins of our Bibles. 

For me, I find the visit of the Wise Ones fascinating because people came from afar to worship Jesus and perhaps those who lived next-door didn’t even notice.  How often do I miss the holy hovering, humming, knocking on the door of my heart looking for room?  I find it fascinating that the powers-that-be, Herod, is threatened by a baby?  Really?  Yet, those in power are often afraid of losing power and will do anything to cling tightly to it.  That truth is as current as the headlines you read this morning.  I find it fascinating that the Wise Ones return home by another way.  This year, I long for new roads and new ways of being.  But like the Wise Ones those might not just appear.  We, you and I, make the road by walking.  Step-by-step.  Day-by-day.  At the same time, the road has always been there.  It was paved by someone before us, who we may never know. 

On this Epiphany, I ask you to prayerfully ponder the roads you are traveling.  I ask for you to stay open to God’s revealing presence here and now.  One prayer tradition on Epiphany is to take a star (either a wooden one or one cut out of paper) and write one word on it.  Here is a list to get your imagination going:

 

Kindness                                           Compassion                                       Love

Openness                                          Understanding                                   Laughter

Discipleship                                      Service                                              Depth

Prayerfulness                                     Playfulness                                        Praise

Gentleness                                         Acceptance                                        Imagination

Friendship                                         Contentment                                      Creativity

Courage                                            Confidence                                        Clarity

Strength                                            Thoughtfulness                                  Patience

Forgiveness                                       Tenderness                                        Enthusiasm

Sharing                                             Healing                                              Rejoicing

Justice                                               Mercy                                                Humility

Wisdom                                            Wholeness                                         Wonder

Curiosity                                           Graciousness                                     Flexibility

Generosity                                         Steadfastness                                     Serenity

Humor                                              Vision                                               Thankfulness

 

There are 45 words above.  If you add seven of your own, there would be one for each week this year.  Play with these words.  See which ones sing to your heart and which ones cause you to think, “Meh…not so much.”  Why?  Why do you have the response, reaction you do to these words?  Words create worlds and have meaning within us.  Hold these words.  You may want to write them on stars or a piece of paper or on a Sunday for each week this year.  Let the language of faith guide you and ground you and stir/speak/sing within you this day.  Happy and Merry Epiphany. 

Epiphany Week

 

Today is a day betwixt and between.  We know that Christmas isn’t over – Epiphany is tomorrow, which means this is Epiphany Eve.  And while there is no special service planned, we can faithfully engage and encounter this day.  You can re-read Matthew 2:1-12.  So often with Scripture we think of passages as one and done.  But to keep coming back to the stories letting them speak and sing to our stories is a wonderful prayer practice.  Second, you can take time holding each of the Wise Ones from your nativity scene in the palm of your hand.  The Wise Ones traveled a great distance, like us who have traveled emotionally and spiritually a long way in 2020.  The Wise Ones took a wrong turn.  Yup, I relate to that a lot!  The Wise Ones go to the traditional place of power – the palace of King Herod.  How often do I get caught up in going to the same places and spaces expecting to encounter something new?  We live the truth of Einstein that it can be insanity to do the same thing over and over and expecting different results.  Eventually, the Wise Ones get back on track, find Jesus in his home with Mary (I guess Joseph had gone back to work?), and give him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.  I hold the Bible close to my ear and hear Mary saying, “So glad you have all stopped by unannounced and unexpected.  And I was just saying to Joseph to pick up some more myrrh on the way home today.”  Seriously, this is a funny scene in many ways. 

Epiphany means 'revelation' or ‘divine appearance’.  In these early January days, we continue to stay open.  The watching and waiting of Advent wasn’t only for Christmas Eve.  We engage in that prayer practice in the dwindling of one year to carry the openness with us into a New Year.  As Ann Weems said yesterday, “It (hear meaning God’s movement in our midst) isn’t over”. 

How is God moving in your heart and home and whole life today?

What is stirring and swirling within you?

As you look at the way which lay before you today, how can you keep open to those you encounter and the experiences that fill these hours searching like the Wise Ones for the holy?

May you and I on this Epiphany Eve continue to find our way toward the One who is with us and for us always.  Amen.

Epiphany Week

 

It is not over, this birthing. There are always newer skies into which God can throw stars. When we begin to think that we can predict the Advent of God, that we can box the Christ in a stable in Bethlehem, that’s just the time that God will be born in a place we can’t imagine and won’t believe. Those who wait for God watch with their hearts and not their eyes, listening, always listening for angel words. Ann Weems “Kneeling in Bethlehem”

For many, this first full week of 2021 can feel like a return to our regularly scheduled programing, to the routines and rhythms of life, to normal (whatever that will mean in 2021).  Kids go back to school; parents face a full week of work; we start to think about taking down the decorations; some of the hustle and bustle of the past few weeks fades away as there is open space in each day.  Yet, before we step out of the straw of the stable and turn toward living in this New Year, there are a few truths to take with us.

First, no matter how much we want to leave 2020 in the dust, the lessons and losses will continue to linger not just this first month of 2021, but for years to come.  Just because we put up a new calendar doesn’t mean the old year is finished.  I think of the Israelites in the book of Exodus when wandering in the wilderness, having secured their freedom from Egypt.  But on the other side of the Red Sea they actually long to go back.  You can take the person out of Egypt, but it will take time for Egypt to be taken out of the person.  Or you can be done with 2020, but it takes a while until 2020 is done with us.  We need to continue to have spaces and places for us to live the questions that linger from last year.

Second, from a church perspective, Christmas isn’t finished.  Leave that tree up, continue to blast and blare carols, and hold the nativity close because this Wednesday is Epiphany.  This is the day when the Christian tradition says the Wise Ones arrived.  (By the way, this story is in Matthew 2:1-12 – I encourage you to read the story today letting it sing to your soul.  As you do notice that Matthew doesn’t say there are three Wise Ones – but more on that later this week).

As Ann Weems says, “It isn’t over”.  God’s birthing new life and new possibilities and promises continues moment-by-moment; day-by-day.  Read Matthew today listening for the angel’s words to sing to your soul and enliven your heart in this Monday morning. 

Prayer: God of this first full week of a New Year, continued to ground me and guide me with the promises of Christmas, as with the Wise Ones, I continue to search for Your star of wonder, star of light that can lead me on to Your perfect light. 

New Year's Day

 

We cross the threshold into this New Year, I think back on a story from last year.  When Pfizer released its vaccine many of the vials had an extra dose or two.  Medical professionals had been told that each vial had five doses.  But suddenly there was more inside, enough to inoculate at least one and in some cases two more people.  This was because there were different syringes being used and the company wanted to make sure there was plenty inside the vial.  That sound you hear is angels singing, “Hallelujah!”  But wait, was it safe?  Was it really okay to give the extra to a sixth or even seventh person?  Inquiring minds needed to know.  Some places threw away the excess and extra.  Insert the image of Van Gogh’s painting, “The scream” here.  Noooo!  Pfizer immediately released a statement that, “Yes the extra was safe.  Yes, please use every last drop of the vaccine.”  Still some insisted to throw the leftovers away.  

This is a parable about God’s grace.  There is always more than expected with God’s grace.  And unfortunately, too often, we toss and throw out what we don’t think we need.  Sometimes we do that because we are unsure that we can really share the grace with that person.  Sometimes we do this unintentionally.  Sometimes we just make a mistake.  Sometimes are minds are so hardwired in scarcity that we don’t know what to do with abundance. 

God’s grace is the original inexhaustible resource.  God’s grace is new each and every day and especially on this the first day of 2021.  To live each day this year as though God’s grace is unceasing and God’s love unconditional and that truth changes everything.  That is my prayer for you and me on this New Year.

God of all time, help us enter the New Year quietly,
thoughtful of who we are to ourselves and to others,
mindful that our steps make an impact
and our words carry power.
May we walk gently.
May we speak only after we have listened well.
Creator of all life,
help us enter the New Year reverently,
aware that you have endowed
every creature and plant, every person and habitat
with beauty and purpose.
May we regard the world with tenderness.
May we honor rather than destroy.
Lower of all souls,
help us enter the New Year joyfully,
willing to laugh and dance and dream,
remembering our many gifts with thanks
and looking forward to blessings yet to come.
May we welcome your lavish love.
In this new year, may the grace and peace of Christ bless us now and in the days ahead.

- Vinita Hampton Wright

New Years Eve

 

New Year’s Eve can in some ways feel like we are on the threshold of something new.  Today is the cusp of beginning to paint on new canvass or turning the page to a new chapter.  At the same time, there are things we carry with us into the New Year.  Tomorrow morning, January 1, 2021, will still have some of the lingering leftovers of 2020.  We are still facing a pandemic and polarization.  And.  And there is possibility and potential.  And there is hope that is willing to see what is and what can be.  As Maya Angelou said, “If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is be present in the present... gratefully.”  Here is one of my favorite prayer/poems by Jan Richardson

BLESSING THE THRESHOLD

This blessing has been waiting for you for a long time.

While you have been making your way here,

this blessing has been gathering itself, making ready, biding its time, praying.

This blessing has been polishing the door, oiling the hinges, sweeping the steps,

lighting candles in the windows.

This blessing has been setting the table as it hums a tune from an old song it knows,

something about a spiraling road and bread and grace.

All this time it has kept an eye on the horizon, watching, keeping vigil, hardly aware of how

it was leaning itself in your direction.

And now that you are here, this blessing can hardly believe its good fortune

that you have finally arrived, that it can drop everything at last to fling its arms wide

to you, crying welcome,

welcome,

welcome.

God's love be with you now and every day in 2021.  Blessings ~~

New Years Week

 

Alongside the joy of s’mores I talked about yesterday, I led more funerals this year than I have in any other year before.  Wait.  Don’t quit reading, yet.  I know this may sound like a topic you would prefer not to read, but in keeping with Richard Rohr’s quote on great suffering being a teacher, I want to share five lessons I hold from being with people in grief this year.  I pray these words will resonate with you as truth from this year.

1. Grief is hard and we are all grieving.  Some of you are grieving the death of a spouse or family member.  Some are grieving the loss of a way of life.  Some are grieving relationships.  There is anticipatory grief where we know that someone we care about is about to die.  There is ambiguous grief, like a divorce, where the person still is alive, but we no longer are connected.  There is a cultural/collective grief around the pandemic, systemic racism and discrimination, and still lingering with the election.  There is good grief where we cry cathartic tears. There is grief where we push down the pain and refuse to deal with it.  Yet, we need to name and claim our wounds and wants.  Our brains are wired and will shout, “Don’t!! It is too difficult!”  I would suggest that having a safe space with a few people to check in on how your soul is doing can be one of the most important gifts we can offer each other.

2. Grief can be cumulative and past wounds will come up when you start to share with others.  The cliché about opening the flood gates is true.  You name and notice one pain and suddenly all that is unprocessed within you will raise its hand wanting to be called upon.  I still grieve my mother’s death over six years ago.  It is there within me and has become a part of me.  Walking through her death and all that was unresolved has begun to help me in moments like this year when I am swimming in so much grief with others.  I try to listen, and I especially try to love and remember that grief can make us feel isolated but we are not alone!  Others will walk with us through the valley.

3. This year, there were a fair number of funerals for people who loved to be on the water.  I often returned to this quote, “Sometimes God calms the sailor.  And sometimes God calms the storm.”  Sometimes God gives me strength to navigate my boat even as the storm rages on outside my control.  Sometimes God causes the storm to pass and calm waters around me to arrive.  Both are a gift.

4. There is a playbook for grief.  You can Google Elizabeth Kubler Ross or David Kessler to learn more.  There are patterns to grief like feeling the brain fog of disorientation; moments when waves of grief knock you over unexpectedly; and times emotions come up and out at the most inconvenient times. Secondly, there exceptions to everything I just said.  Your grief is as unique as your fingerprint.  To hold the beautiful tension of the ways we are connected to each other in shared grief and that we never, never fully know exactly what someone else is feeling are both true.  Finally, if I could, I would forever tear up and toss out the phrase, “I know exactly how you feel.”  We don’t, but we can offer the space and grace to listen alongside someone as she or he tells us (as imperfectly as the words may feel) what their soul is trying to express.

5. Finally, grief is fierce and faithful work.  I think of Elizabeth in Luke’s story.  Elizabeth lets loose with a joyful shout and blesses Mary.  Elizabeth knew grief well.  Year after year of not being pregnant after trying and realizing there is much beyond her control.  The layer of thick dust on the dream of being a mother.  The pain of an ache as she went to baby showers or held the infant of another.  Grief comes in many forms.  Grief calls us to the fierce and faithful work of our souls.  Your grief is paint longing for a canvass.

My prayer is that these insights might awaken within you wisdom from your own soul into how you are painting your grief on the canvass called, “Your life” in these days. 

Prayer: God who heard Jesus cry from the garden and the cross, listen to our tears this day we pray.  Amen.

New Years Week

 

Roasting s’mores around a campfire.  That is one moment that warms my heart and stirs my soul from this past year.  I’ll explain.  Our family had rented a cabin in a small town in Georgia.  We needed to get our kids out of their bedrooms, we needed to stop staring at the same four walls, we needed a change of pace and to breathe some different air.  We had been searching for somewhere we felt safe to get away.  Finally, we stumbled across this cabin with several hiking trails at nearby state parks softly whispering our names.  The cabin had a pool table, foosball, an indoor basketball hoop, and a firepit outside.  It felt like we were taking a leap of faith to leave what was known behind and venture out at a time when an invisible virus could be lurking anywhere.   But, our mental health said we needed to get away from the heat and humidity and feeling cooped up inside.

We went.  We had a blast.  We laughed.  We played games.  We went tubing down a river.  We reset our souls with relaxation in a year when stress and strain and change had been the only tune we were dancing to.  And, of course, we roasted and ate s’mores around a campfire.

2020 has taught me the lesson that I am not as in charge or in control as I like to think.  There are many things beyond my ability that I cannot snap my fingers and change.  No matter how tightly I grasp or cling, there are many things that are like sand and will slip through my fingers.  I cannot change someone else.  I cannot stop people from hurting each other with words or actions.  I cannot magically wave a wand so that everyone is vaccinated. 

At the same time, I do have responsibility for my response, that is what I can control.  I can acknowledge the joy and anger and fear and hope that stir within me.  I can be curious about why I am feeling this way or doing that action.  I can listen to my own life.  There is no separation between your spiritual life and your actual life.  God doesn’t just show up on Sunday mornings at the prescribed hour you prefer to worship.  God shows up disguised as your own life, every day.  And somethings even in that person who pushes all your buttons!  To listen both to the moments of joy; to accept what we can change and what we cannot and the wisdom to know the difference; and to realize that this year will continue to leave a lingering impression that will last long beyond putting a new calendar up this Friday.  There is both gratitude and grief in this year – both can be our teachers.

Prayer: God keep showing up disguised as my life today.  Amen.