Lent 5: Turn the Radio Up

I grew up in a home with an eclectic taste in music. The kitchen radio was always set to the country music station but that wasn’t the full soundtrack of our lives. While my dad had a tendency to have that station on for news and sports updates, I know there were songs that would drift into tune that he enjoyed and still does. My mom on the other hand enjoys a good country love song, but also enjoys the dark side of Johnny Cash, the power of Elvis, the boom of Thunderstruck by ACDC and the gentleness of the Medical Mission Sisters. I grew up with two brothers who were invested into all types of genres including the sounds of Bryan Adams, Bruce Springsteen, Shania Twain and Eminem and my sister enjoyed Bon Jovi and Alanis Morrisette. As for me the musical palate includes Dolly Parton, Corey Hart, a touch of The Family Brown, Roch Voisine, Glass Tiger, Serena Ryder and Matt Maher, to name a few. All of this came to mind as I reflected on the gospel story about Lazarus, his death and his sisters and their reaction to Jesus (John 11.1-45). Why you may ask?

I was pondering how we all come to different points in our lives from different paths. Much like how each of us have varying tastes in music, our life journeys are unique and a particular song can speak to the depths of one person, to another it can be a faint whisper of a different message or a teeth-grinding 4 minutes. This made me think about how Martha and Mary, Lazarus’ sisters, had come to know Jesus and experienced his message in different ways.

Music speaks to each of us in different ways, just like how the words of life which Jesus speaks resonate differently with each of us. The message in a song can awaken us to the truths of our heart and can also challenge us to live our lives differently much like the parables Jesus spoke and the gospels we read and rely on today connection us to our Savior.

The song, if you will, Jesus was singing when he encountered the grieving sisters was that of hope. It was a message of hope for them then and it is a message of hope for us still today. It was about looking beyond the current moment of pain and hurt and relying on lasting hope. It was a message of hope because in hope is the glory of God, and the light which he knew was within each of them and is in us. It was a message of hope which promised them eternal life, resurrection beyond the current state of life and the agony of loss. It was a message of hope with gratitude for blessings great and blessings small, for an awareness of who we are as God’s children and the consistency of God’s promise of always. It was a message of hope that even in our trials, even when the world around us feels dead or is dying we are called out of our tombs, to be unbound from all which traps us and to embrace life. It was and is a message of hope because hope is about believing – believing beyond ourselves, beyond the lures of the world, beyond the struggles we face, beyond the many deaths we die before we are embraced in God’s loving arms. The song continues on, do we hear it? Can we hear it? Are we too busy busying ourselves so as not to have to hear it? What message is Christ singing to you through the songs of your life, through the messages of hope he gives always?

As we continue another week of self-isolating, public distancing and hearing news that challenges us and the freedoms we have come to need or want where can we find hope? What song(s) do we need to listen to? What is its message for these days and this time?

The story of Lazarus’ death caused me to pause and attempt to listen to the song which is playing in my heart. I wish it was all Christmas carols and love songs but it is not, there are songs of lament and songs of being lost, there are songs which seem to stumble along with me and others which cause me to tap my toes. Regardless of the song, I rely on a hope greater than any song. In these days which have felt at times freeing and at other times frustrating I am keeping myself grounded by turning to the One whom I now is “the resurrection and the life” and who will weep with me, but also will raise me up to new heights and who is the full soundtrack of my life. This is hope, yes this is the hope we are promised and for that I say "Amen" and turn up the radio up a bit more.

As this week unfolds may songs fill your home with hope, may their messages lead you to the depths of who you are and may you know the hope which Christ promises us each and every day… life – new life in the resurrection.

"Hope means to keep living amid desperation and to keep humming in the darkness. Hoping is knowing that there is love, it is trust in tomorrow, it is falling asleep and waking again when the sun rises. In the midst of a gale at sea, it is to discover land. In the eye of another, it is to see that you are understood. As long as there is still hope there will also be prayer. And you will be held in God's hands." - Henri Nouwen 

Lent 4: Be The Moon

I have an old t-shirt with a glow in the dark caption: Be the Moon – Reflect the Son. For no predetermined reason, I grabbed this t-shirt to wear today. As I was sitting in quiet prayer reflecting on the scriptures for the 4th Sunday of Lent I had to chuckle to myself, as this t-shirt could be the caption for this weekend. The story of the man born blind  (John 9.1-41) and his witness of Christ Jesus speaks to being a bearer of light now matter the circumstances or persecutions. The man born blind was open to the light and choose to reflect the Son by being a witness to truth, to life and to transformation.

We are reminded of this theme in Saint Paul’s letter to the Ephesians (5.8-14) as he states we are to live as “children of light” (Ephesians 5.8). If we reflect the Son, we are lights shining in the darkness around us. In offering hope where it is needed most, not just in words and prayers but in actions and choices which allow all people to be reflectors.

There is a quote by Marianne Williamson which is stuck in my head as I wear this t-shirt today and ponder scripture. She said, “Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.” The power of being light bearers is life-changing and truly amazing. Why are we afraid to reflect the Son? Is it because our true selves, which we hide, will shine through? Or our actions and choices will be found “good and right and true” (Ephesians 5.9)? Or that the power we carry will call us to bigger and brighter things – both in times of trial and times of rejoicing?

That’s what I’m left pondering today, all because of a crazy glow in the dark t-shirt I bought long ago. The message of the t-shirt when I bought it many years ago and still today is what I strive to do.

Still the Light Remains

In worry and concern…

When frustrated and short-tempered…

During chaos and upheaval…                                                     

Still the Light Remains

In the darkness here…

In the darkness I create…

In the darkness we contribute to…           

Still the Light Remains

When the burdens are too heavy…

When I fail to see others…

When we deny the light within...

Still the Light Remains

During the walking through the muck…

During the times I don’t radiate…

During the trials we face as a human family…

Still the Light Remains

We are light because Jesus who was born as the Light of the World remains us. We often forget this, as we often fear this light which is entrusted to us, instead of letting it shine. In our blindness, he restores our sight. In our brokenness he shines through the cracks. In our backwards glances he calls us forth to new life.

We are light, and this we should not fear, for we are “children of light” called to what is “good and right and true.” The source of all light lives and moves and breathes through us today and each day – good days, bad, days or other wise.

We are sent forth to shine, to awake and rise up, to be light in our world today. Not an easy task, but one we are equipped for because still the Light remains. Always.

How will you be the moon this week? How will you reflect the Son?

How can you let go of fear and shine?

How will you be light in these days of self-isolating, restrictions, 

and social distancing?

How can you be like the moon and reflect the Son?

God’s unfailing light to surround and bless you this Lenten week.

In These Days of Uncertainty

Friends,

In these days of uncertainty during this world pandemic we must remember that we still need each other, that together we are a human family. Self-isolation is one thing, being isolated is whole other thing... let us rise up and be truly brother and sister for each other. Let us remember hope is the burning embers at our core and love is our natural calling.

I share with you a poem written by a Friar in Ireland, which I believe offers hope and perspective. I also share with you a prayer which was sent to me, may I suggest it be the prayer for hand washing.

Let us continue to be signs of hope, to sing and to find reasons to smile and be thankful.

Lockdown

By Fr. Richard Hendrick, OFM, Cap - Ireland

March 13th 2020

Yes there is fear.

Yes there is isolation.

Yes there is panic buying.

Yes there is sickness.

Yes there is even death.

But,

They say that in Wuhan after so many years of noise

You can hear the birds again.

They say that after just a few weeks of quiet

The sky is no longer thick with fumes

But blue and grey and clear.

They say that in the streets of Assisi

People are singing to each other

across the empty squares,

keeping their windows open

so that those who are alone

may hear the sounds of family around them.

They say that a hotel in the West of Ireland

Is offering free meals and delivery to the housebound.

Today a young woman I know

is busy spreading fliers with her number

through the neighbourhood

So that the elders may have someone to call on.

Today Churches, Synagogues, Mosques and Temples

are preparing to welcome

and shelter the homeless, the sick, the weary

All over the world people are slowing down and reflecting

All over the world people are looking at their neighbours in a new way

All over the world people are waking up to a new reality

To how big we really are.

To how little control we really have.

To what really matters.

To Love.

So we pray and we remember that

Yes there is fear.

But there does not have to be hate.

Yes there is isolation.

But there does not have to be loneliness.

Yes there is panic buying.

But there does not have to be meanness.

Yes there is sickness.

But there does not have to be disease of the soul

Yes there is even death.

But there can always be a rebirth of love.

Wake to the choices you make as to how to live now.

Today, breathe.

Listen, behind the factory noises of your panic

The birds are singing again

The sky is clearing,

Spring is coming,

And we are always encompassed by Love.

Open the windows of your soul

And though you may not be able

to touch across the empty square,

Sing.

  

Lent 3: Tired Out

The gospels are full of great stories, this is no surprise. The season of Lent provides us with several stories about people and their relationship with Christ. The story of the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4.5-42) is one of these great stories. The story about the interaction between Jesus and this woman and then the response of the disciples and the people of Sychar is very intriguing. Time and time again when we hear or read this gospel story, we often see reflections of our life in the characters. There is a line however, which stands out to me more so this year as I read this scripture.

“Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well.” John 4.6

It is a simple line, one that often gets passed over for the more powerful lines of this story, such as “Give me drink.” or “If you knew the gift of God… he would have given you living water.” or “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty.” or “I am he.”  The power of the dialogue of this text is rich and plentiful and wakens us to the stirrings of our hearts, our struggles and our thirsts. However, I believe that this little about Jesus being tired near the start of the story gives us much to reflect on.

Jesus like us in all things but sin knows what it is like to be tired out. Have you ever considered this? I know that I don’t consider this very often, but it has captured my heart and thoughts today. It is causing me to pause and to consider what is causing me to be tired, what tires me out and to ask if I am spending enough time resting at the well of living water?

Come all you who are tired from the days work and daily demands.

Come all you who are tired of the burdens of responsibilities too great to carry.

Come all you who are tired because of sickness and appointments.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

Come all you who are tired from the chaos that bombards the news.

Come all you who are tired of the loneliness that surrounds you.

Come all you who are tired because of fear grasping holding of your life.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

Come all you who are tired from the poor choices made long ago.

Come all you who are tired of family conflicts and brokenness.

Come all you who are tired because of lack of support and answers.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

Come all you who are tired from saying yes and meeting expectations.

Come all you who are tired of regret which leads to shame.

Come all you who are tired because community is an illusion.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

Come all you who are tired from living a lie.

Come all you who are tired of empty sermons and liturgies.

Come all you who are tired because your ideas feel lifeless.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

Come all you who are tired from having to deal with hurts.

Come all you who are tired of false promises.

Come all you who are tired because of poverty and needs not met.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

Come all you who are tired from too much information.

Come all you who are tired of having to be on all the time.

Come all you who are tired because rest is for those we deem lazy.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

Come all you who are tired from being a lone voice.

Come all you who are tired of the lack of action for justice.

Come all you are tired because your faith feels weak.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

Come all you who are tired from the state of panic our world is in.

Come all you who are tired of us forgetting we are all one family.

Come all you who are tired because the well feels so far away or overcrowded.

Come and rest by the well of Living Water.

I have found that in my constant going and doing I lead myself to empty seeking and filling up on non-essentials which is not the life-giving water Jesus offers time and again. Jesus gives living water everyday, enough to ease our burdens and enough to call us to life. I know I come to him time and again and say, “give me this water” and he always responds and I am nourished and replenished. He chooses time and again to stay with me and gives me living water, for “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given us” (Romans 5.5).

Jesus being tired out gives me hope for the days that feel way too long, the days which go off the rails, and the days when too much information fills my mind. Jesus resting at the well reminds me that I too must stop and be from the long journeys of the mind, of the body and of the soul. Jesus resting at the well reminds me that if the Saviour of the world took time to rest so must I so I can go forth to share what I have heard and seen.

As our world deals with the crisis at hand, let us be mindful that many are tired and many need support to ease their tiredness. How can we offer rest for the weary and tired even in this crisis? Together we are family, and although isolation may be the new norm for now, let us not become isolated cutting ourselves off from each other, the greater good of humanity and our true source of Living Water. How can we offer life-giving water at this time for those who most need it? Let us not forget that we are called in hope and to be hope.

In this Lenten week ahead in all that tires you out may you find rest at the well, there you will find Jesus with Living Water.

Lent 2: Transfiguration Gifts

I have always loved the Second Sunday of Lent. I know it’s a bit of an oddity to love one Sunday in a liturgical season, but I do love it. I love it because every year no matter which cycle of scripture readings we are in it is always the gospel about the Transfiguration of Jesus (Matthew 17.1-9, Year A). I think this gospel offers so much for us. With each passing year and each new crisis our world seems to face, for me, this reading always offers hope. I believe it offers hope because it emphasizes hope in qualities, we can all appreciate.

                It speaks about friendship – “Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John…” (Matthew 17.1), “Suddenly there appeared with to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him” (17.3). Friendship is about the depth of bond, about being present to another, about truly seeing one another. Friendship speaks to us about our God and God’s desire to be one with us. Friendship is what our world needs these days and yet we fill the void with so much destruction and fear. Friendship is a greater source of hope than an empty void.

                It speaks about transcendence (wholeness, state of grace) and light – “he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white” (17.2), “a bright cloud overshadowed them…” (17.5). Transcendence is at the core of each one of us. It is the piece of the divine which is woven into our DNA; the light at our core. It is our lives yearning for more, and striving to grow, to be transformed, to radiate and shine forth what is truly at the heart of who we are. Transcendence awakens us to authenticity – the God-gifted goodness which we all have and which calls us to be light to the world – to shine and dazzle. Light is always a source of hope.

                It speaks about community – “It is good for us to be here… I will make three dwellings here…” (17.4). Community reminds us of our past but does not ground us, instead it provides a path for our future. Community challenges us to be in relationship with one another because we are all children of God. Community is about celebrating the successes and enduring the hardships, it is about building together the kingdom. The hope of community is that come to see the vast of God’s amazing creativity.

                It speaks about being beloved – “from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased…” (17.5). Being beloved is about being valued and our inherent dignity. Each one of us are beloved of God, no matter our life journey: our greatness or our sins. Being beloved is closely tied to transcendence. Being beloved is knowing and seeing in each other that there is goodness and a desire to be our best selves. In a society which is stripping us of our “belovedness” and dignity, we must rise above this darkness and trust that the light at our core oozes out regardless of who we are. God looks on us with love, we must not forget this is a gift of hope.

                It speaks about listening – “listen to him!” (17.5), Jesus said, “Get up and do not be afraid” (17.7). Listening is a key element of friendship, transcendence, community, and being beloved. Listening moves us beyond our own little world and in a sense forces us to be aware of another’s world. Listening stirs within us and causes us to ponder where we hear God, who is speaking truths to us, what it means to be a person of dignity, how does light penetrate my darkness and how do I see and acknowledge that each person I encounter is the beloved. Listening is what our God does for us and what our God asks us to do for each other. Listening is a spark of hope in what can often be darkness for so many.

                It speaks about Christ with us – “As they were coming down the mountain…” (17.9). It is here that I may have finally realized why I have loved the Second Sunday for so long. I always thought it was about Christ being our light and the light we hold and share or about us being beloved and valued as well. It is true these qualities have greatly influenced me and have offered me comfort and strength; however, it is this “new found” reality of Christ with us on the other side of mountain of transfiguration which strikes me most. When I have been a good friend and when I failed to be a friend, Christ has been present. When I have failed to see how transcendence and light are part of me and when they have filled my eyes, Christ has been present. When I have built community and when I have failed to be a part of community, Christ has been present. When being beloved has only been an illusion and when I have fully embraced this gift, Christ has been present. When I have failed to listen and when I am all ears, Christ has been present. Christ with us – the promise made in the announcement of his birth, the promise made coming down the transfiguration mountain, the promise made on the Emmaus road, the promise made at the ascension. Christ with us, this is true hope. The whole spectrum of the life of Christ is hope for us all.

This hope is the way we are to walk our Lenten path with friendship and in community. Called to listen to each other (and God), aware that we carry a light which is the gift of being beloved and acknowledging that transcendence, which makes us who we are, is truly what molds us into the Body of Christ.

Christ you are ever present,

and you transform our ways.

You walk with us

down the mountains,

through the valleys,

on all the paths of life.

Christ you walked down the mountain

with your dear disciples

and you do the same with us.

This indeed is good news

for our Lenten journey

and each day of the journey home to you.

Christ you transfigure our ways,

you transform our lives,

you truly see us for who we are

you raise us to life,

and for this we give you thanks and praise.

Amen.

Lent 1: Door Knocking and Muffin Requests

The knock came to my door early this morning, not extremely early but still early. I was awake, sitting in bed; reflecting on the day ahead, entering into prayer and considering this Lenten journey. I thought the knock was surely not at my door, so I ignored the sound (I’m currently staying with friends of mine and they have four children, the knock could be anywhere). Then the little tap came again, so I stopped to listen. Nothing. Then the gentle but consistent tap rattled my door again. It was indeed my door. I got out of bed and answered the door. There before me was my four-year-old friend looking up with big eyes, “Are you getting up?” he asked.

I smiled and said, “not yet.”

“Okay,” he whispered and disappeared down the hall.

About twenty minutes later the same tap-tap-tap came to my door. I crawled out of bed a bit quicker this time. I opened the door but before I could say anything, my four-year-old friend declared, “Mom is in the shower.”

I said, “okay, and what do you need?”

With his big eyes twinkling he said, “We are having muffins for breakfast.”

I responded with, “would you like a muffin?”

With a smile, and a twist of the body he was heading down the hallway.

We met his mother at the top the stairs.

“Young man, what are you doing down there? Did you wake him up?”

“Nope!” came the response, “We are going to have a muffin!”

Well it was decided that after he showered the muffin would be ready for him. He went off to the shower and I got the muffin ready.

As I came back to my guest room, still in the quiet of the morning I was struck by this encounter. Is this not what Lent is? God knocking on our door and saying, “Are you getting up?” “Are you awake?”

In other words, through our words and actions, through our encounters and experiences, through our disciplines of fasting, almsgiving and prayer: Where are you going to encounter love today? How are you going to be a witness to living the good news? Who is going to remind you that God is present? What are you going to do to make this season count?

I had great plans for a quiet morning of prayer locked away from the distractions. It was however, the distraction of a knock at my door which reminded me that Lent is about being awakened to the depths of love and how I respond to carrying the cross.

May our Lenten journeys be full of door knocking, muffin requests and healthy distractions which will open our eyes to see our God with us and awaken us to what we need to truly do this Lent.

God of door knocking and four-year-olds,

“are you awake yet?” and muffin requests,

you are ever present to us in the simplicity of life.

May this Season of Lent awaken us to life,

to the everyday, to the truths you speak in our daily living

and awaken us to life-giving ways this Lent.

You who are ever with us,

awaken us again to life

in this season of transformation.

May we see with clear vision,

let go of burdens and things we don’t need

and be present to you with us and calling us to life.

(even in distractions)

Amen.