The story of the widow in Mark 12:41-44 recounts the story of a woman who puts her last two cents into the treasury at the temple. I believe that Jesus points to her as an example because in her giving all she had to live on, she is giving herself into God’s hands. In this act, the woman expresses a complete dependence on God. We are often encouraged to give because the cause is worthy or because there is some implied or expressed benefit to our giving. The difference that the story of the giving widow illustrates is that our giving helps us practice following Jesus. Practicing giving in a repeated fashion leads us to more and more live a life rooted in a dependence on God.
We concluded our Redwoods worship series this past Sunday but we haven’t concluded our emphasis on these practices, sometimes also called marks of discipleship. We continue to encourage you to grow into Redwoods by engaging these practices:
- Reading Scripture Daily
- Engaging in Daily Prayer
- Devoted in Spiritual Practices
- Worshiping Weekly
- Openly Sharing the Gospel
- Demonstrating God’s Love to Others
- Sharing Our Resources
We approach the end of our current worship series, “Growing Into Spiritual Redwoods,” and our related small groups. The elders have done a great job leading these groups and we hope that you’ve had an experience of spiritual growth and deepening of your relationship with God. As a part of Lent, we’ve been exploring these spiritual practices and marks of discipleship: Reading scripture daily, Engaged in daily prayer, Devoted in spiritual relationships, Worshiping weekly, Openly sharing the gospel, Demonstrating God’s love to our neighbors, and Sharing our resources. Such practices are important for at least 4 reasons as Dorothy Bass reminds us:
- these practices address fundamental human needs and conditions through concrete human acts
- these practices done together and over time lead us to discover that we are part of a community that’s been doing them for centuries
- these practices possess standards of excellence that shine God’s light on all we do
- these practices, tangled up with our daily living, help us perceive how our lives are tangled up with what God is doing in the world (Practicing Our Faith, Josey-Bass 1997, 6-8).
While Lent quickly draws to a close and Easter season is around the corner, the practices can continue and need to continue if you desire to grow in your relationship with God and others around you. I hope that you will continue to read scripture daily, engage in daily prayer, devote yourselves in spiritual relationships, openly share the gospel with others, demonstrate God’s love to others, and share your resources. I am convinced the routine of these practices leads us into deeper relationship with God and one another. Early Christians were often referred to as people who followed The Way – meaning they were followers of Jesus and his way of living and relating to the world. We are still people of The Way and these practices help us travel, following Jesus into the world.
Lent is moving along quickly and Holy Week will soon be upon us with our most important celebration on Easter Sunday when we gather and proclaim again, “Christ is risen! Alleluia!” Tradition says that we don’t say “Alleluia” during Lent but Easter is close and I’m ready to hear that “Alleluia”! Maybe you are as well?
During this Lenten season, almost 60 folks have been participating in our small groups. Some have asked if the groups could continue and others have inquired when the next groups would start and if they could join. Our next small group opportunity will begin the week of April 12 and will center on the theme of our next worship series theme: “Get Real with Your Faith.” We’ll offer a variety of times and opportunities for small groups. If you’d like to sign up for a small group, please complete a signup sheet or contact the church office. Also if you have questions, please call or email me at your convenience.
Preparations of candidates for baptism is well underway as we approach and get ready for our Easter celebration. In the midst of this time each year, I remember vividly my own baptism. It was a day when I felt deeply the love of God shared through the love of a congregation. As I go further and think about claiming my baptism and learning to follow Christ, I cannot point to any one specific moment that brought everything together – or to put it another way, there was no Damascus Road experience. Instead, I can point to others who helped me to know what it means to follow Jesus and who continue to help me on my faith journey. They have names like Traci, Joan, Bill, John, Tom, Nancy, Lee A., and Sandra.
These folks who have mentored me, and continue to do so, model with their own living what it means to follow Jesus. I’ve watched, talked and served beside them in all sorts of settings and I’ve learned about the blessings and challenges of faith and life. I give God thanks for each of those I’ve named and many others that go unnamed. Watching, talking, and serving beside all of these folks, I’ve begun to learn what it means to love God with my whole being and to love my neighbor. I’m again reminded of the quote of Albert Schweitzer, which I also shared in worship this past Sunday. When asked to name the greatest person alive in the world at that moment, the doctor and missionary replied, “The greatest person alive in the world at this moment is some unknown individual in some obscure place who, at this hour, has gone in love to be with another person in need.” Those who show us best how to follow Jesus – they show us love and how to love.
God of Grace and Compassion, we gather remembering and giving thanks for those who have gone before us and pointed us toward Jesus and his way of living. We remember before you their work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. Now as we gather at this table, we recall Jesus the Christ, our Companion in life, death, and resurrection. Bless this bread and cup with the gift of your Spirit, that it might strengthen us to be reconciled and restored to one another – that we may live in ways that draws others to live in your Garden of Love. In the name of Jesus, we pray. Amen.
Everything I’ve read, written by folks describing their experiences in forests of Redwoods, describes the sound of sheer and utter silence that pervades these forests. Several folks have shared personal stories of experiencing this silence as well. In all of these descriptions, I find a common idea. When we get used to the silence, we then begin to hear the forest – the birds, the other animals, the wind, the branches of the trees, the grass, and the ferns. The descriptions describe almost hearing the forest grow.
It reminds me of the story of Elijah when he is fleeing the threat of Jezebel and Ahab (1 Kings 19):
At that place he came to a cave, and spent the night there. Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He answered, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.” He said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Kings 19:9-13).
Prayer slows us down and invites us into the silence. When we slow down and enter into the silence, we can then begin to hear the movement of God’s Spirit in our lives. We begin to experience God’s presence within us in ways that are closer than breathing, thinking, or even consciousness itself. Prayer is the foundation of our relationship with God and when we pray we nurture that relationship.
One of my favorite stories in scripture is the story of Jacob wrestling at the Jabbok River in Genesis 32. The context for this story is that he is returning home after he had run from his brother Esau after stealing his brother’s birthright and after he has gathered and taken his uncle’s resources. After sending his family, servants, and herds across the river, Jacob spends the night alone on the other side of the river. He wrestles through the night with an unnamed man. As the sun is rising, the man asks Jacob to release him but Jacob refuses unless the man will give him a blessing. The blessing he receives is a new name – Israel – and his hip put out of socket. As a new day begins, Jacob limps into an embrace from his forgiving brother.
I appreciate this story so much because I know that I have often wrestled with God and the story of Jacob reminds me that there is a blessing in that struggle. I think that is what Rowan Williams is getting at when he writes about the role of scripture in the life of those who seek to follow Jesus. In the following quote, he’s referring particularly to stories of Jesus in the gospels but I think it applies to all of scripture.
Now, that means that the whole of the story is intended to have an effect. It is intended to draw you in and make you think about yourself in relation to God. It does not mean that Jesus is endorsing everything that everybody in the story says. How could he? When Jesus tells a story about an unjust judge or a murderous tyrant returning to his kingdom and slaughtering his enemies, Jesus is not saying that is a good thing to do. He is telling a story in which such figures appear, and at the end of it he is going to ask you where and who you are (R. Williams, Being Christian 27).
The importance of the spiritual discipline of reading scripture daily is that it reminds us of our family history and keeps this question before us, “Where are you in this?” This question keeps us in an active relationship with God even if the answers we find or don’t find aren’t always simple or easy. There is a blessing in them though because they lead us deeper into this holy relationship.
So I’m wondering what your favorite stories are from scripture and why they are your favorites? If you are so inclined, I invite you to post your answers here in the comments or to send them to me via email.
We gather before you, Holy One, and confess our brokenness, that we walk in darkness, stumbling to find our way and to know how to live as your children. We long to be made whole and to have your promises of grace and love written upon our hearts. Recognizing our own limits, we ask you to pour out your Spirit upon these elements that this bread and cup may be as a light burning through the darkness that writes upon our hearts your promises and strengthens us to live lives full of compassion. In the name of Jesus the Christ. Amen.
I think of Lent as a more disciplined time, a time when I increase my focus on my relationship with God and with others. So in this time, I have looked to take on a faith discipline, a classic Christian practice, as a means of nurturing my faith. I want to do the same thing this year as Lent approaches.
Taking something on may sound strange to you if you have always heard about the self-denial and “giving something up” perspective about Lent. I know it did to me the first time I heard it. But really the practice of “giving something up” (or maybe better stated as letting go of something) is the act of taking on a discipline. For example, we discipline ourselves like an athlete to pay attention to what we take into our bodies. So we choose to not take certain things into our bodies and we take on the discipline of “not doing something.”
Chocolate, soda, or coffee/caffeine are popular items for folks to give up for Lent. When I’ve asked various folks about these choices, they describe their choices as acts of self-denial but in the same breath they will say that they aren’t always very good at honoring their choices. I hear great frustration and disappointment in these confessions – I know well that frustration and disappointment in my own faith journey. As I have thought about why this “just say no” approach is such a struggle and one that often ends in frustration, I reached the conclusion that just saying no doesn’t really work if it is not a part of a larger yes.
So this year I’m letting go of something, but I’m considering how it is a part of a larger yes. I’m asking myself “How is what I’m letting go of and then taking on nurturing life within me?” And I’m trying to ask myself, “If I need to let go of this for Lent, do I need to give it up for good?” Then I’m asking myself, “How is this act a part of my larger yes to the discipline of honoring the body as the temple of God and drawing me into deeper relationship with the holy?”
Lenten disciplines are intended to extend beyond Easter into every part of our faith journeys in order that they may draw us closer into relationship with God. I’ve used chocolate, soda, and coffee as examples of things to give up for Lent. However, I know that in my life there are a number of patterns and actions that are more difficult to let go of. Perhaps, you would say the same thing. As we journey through Lent, I hope you will join me in reflecting on living life in relationship to Jesus Christ and how we can move deeper into relationship with God.
Here at your welcome table, we gather coming with many burdens and challenges in our lives. We come weary and tired; we come frustrated and confused; we come brokenhearted and with bodies failing. Here at your welcome table, we feel your touch through Jesus the Christ, who in his life and ministry brought your healing grace to give us abundant life. Pour out your Spirit on this bread and cup that we once again may be reminded of your promise of redemptive wholeness. May these elements also strengthen us to go proclaiming the Good News with our living. In the name of Jesus we pray. Amen.