St. Paul's Lenten reflections

Once again we bring you reflections for each day of Lent written by members and friends of St. Paul's. The first, by poet priest Doug Vest, is posted for Ash Wednesday. Please have a look and come back each day. The link to the reflections is HERE, and you can also click on the colorful cross icon on this page to get there.

I am still learning to grow in your love

For me, Lent is a time for getting back to basics, for brushing up and brushing off my prayer life. I feel blessed to enjoy a regular prayer practice every morning, but I've let a key part of my practice lapse in recent months --the "examen" at the end of the day.

The idea is to take the time to reflect on the moments of God's grace in the day that is closing, and where I might have fallen short in responding. It is a practice from Ignatian spirituality, the underlying foundation of the Jesuits (all of my spiritual directors have been Jesuits, so it rather fits with how I pray).

I have a card that helps me make this self-examination at the close of day. The card is tattered and in need of tape, but I still carry it in my prayer book, a gift from a member of one of our Education for Ministry groups. Here are the questions.

Light a candle, and try it out yourself tonight:

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Praying the Jesuit Examination of Conscience

1. Thanksgiving: Lord, I realize that all, even myself, is a gift from you.

Today, for what things am I most grateful?

2. Intention: Lord, open my eyes and ears to be more honest with myself.

Today, what do I really want for myself?

3. Examination: Lord, show me what has been happening to me and in me this day.

Today, in what ways have I experienced your love?

4. Contrition: Lord, I am still learning to grow in your love.

Today, what choices have been inadequate responses to your love?

5. Hope: Lord, let me look with longing toward the future.

Today, how will I let you lead me to a brighter tomorrow?

By James Richardson, Fiat Lux

I am from the common earth

Sequoia National Park
Photo courtesy of the National Parks

From my friend Bishop Stephen Charleston...

I am from the common earth made, shaped by calloused hands, fashioned by a working God, whose design was to create a useful art, a mechanism mysterious but functional, a creation that could do something worthwhile, that could serve a good cause, and return value for what it cost, by making life for others just that much better. We are all from the common earth made, sisters of the soil, brothers of the ground on which we stand, varied but same shaped, built for the same goal, organic machines of love, durable in every season, set to a task shared in every part.

Keeping a true Lent

The other day, I came across a poem by Robert Herrick (1591-1674), who lived during a time of enormous religious strife and bloodshed, and was no stranger to the Taliban of his own time. Herrick survived the English Civil War, a multi-layered conflict that pitted Puritan Protestants against royalist Anglicans.

At the time, Herrick was the vicar in Devonshire. He was ejected from his vicarage for refusing to sign an oath supporting the imposition of Puritan government and religion into England and ejecting anything resembling "papism."

The English Civil War had one amazing silver lining. It brought forth a generation of poets and prose writers the likes of which have seldom been matched in English letters. Here is Herrick's poem about the deeper meaning and practice of Lent and I highly commend it to you:

TO KEEP A TRUE LENT
by Robert Herrick


IS this a fast, to keep
The larder lean?
And clean
From fat of veals and sheep?

Is it to quit the dish
Of flesh, yet still
To fill
The platter high with fish ?

Is it to fast an hour,
Or ragg’d to go,
Or show
A downcast look and sour ?

No; ‘tis a fast to dole
Thy sheaf of wheat,
And meat,
Unto the hungry soul.

It is to fast from strife,
From old debate
And hate;
To circumcise thy life.

To show a heart grief-rent;
To starve thy sin,
Not bin;
And that’s to keep thy Lent.

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Source:
Herrick, Robert. Works of Robert Herrick. vol II.
Alfred Pollard, ed.
London, Lawrence & Bullen, 1891. 240.

The First Sunday of Lent: Prayerful paths and slowing down

Lo, we descend into the valley of Lent…

This is supposed to be a time of simplicity, introspection, fasting and penitence. But it gets complicated quickly at St. Paul’s.

This morning we will chant the Great Litany, as complex an opening to worship as ever there was. We will be commissioning our new pastoral care Stephen Ministers at 10 am, and Pastor Ann Willms will be preaching today.

Later in the day, I will be offering the first in a seven-week course leading to adult baptism, confirmation or reception into the Episcopal Church.

Meanwhile, Pastor Heather Warren will be offering an introduction to the work of author-speaker Brian McLaren who will be joining us next Saturday and Sunday.

Lent is supposed to be a time of slowing down, but it does not yet feel that way for me. So I feel somewhat hypocritical in urging you to slow down and have a Holy Lent (as my mother used to put it, “Do as I say, not as I do”). So please let me offer a few brief ideas about what Lent should really be about, and I offer this to you much as a reminder for myself:

Lent is a gift to the heart. Lent can be a time not of obligation but of careful and prayerful discernment about our life path, and how God is calling us to live our life of faith in the world. It is a time of confession, of looking honestly at where we have fallen short. It is also a time to feel reconnected in our deepest self to God our creator and celebrate the gifts God gives us. This can be a time a feeling affirmed on our path, or feeling called to new directions, or maybe a combination of both.

Traditionally the Church asks that we “give up” something for Lent as a way of focusing on what is truly important. Fasting can nudge us into being less self-indulgent and more aware of the needs around us and the places God is calling us to go. Fasting that is falsely pious is no fast at all.

My suggestion is to make your fast something important and hard. Maybe instead of giving up chocolate, give up fear. Or instead of giving up meat, give up gossip. Or instead of giving up ice cream, give up petty complaining.

Lent is a time for renewal of prayer. There are many ways to pray, but all require practice. Find a regular time in your day to pray that works for you and stick to it. Get up earlier if you need to, or turn off the television or computer earlier in the evening. Use the prayer book or pray spontaneously from your heart. Reading the Bible daily in small doses can enrich your prayers and your life. Rather than getting hung up on the factoids of the Bible, let you imagination find the Holy inspiration between the lines.

You can get instant help on this: We’ve provided a series of reflections for each day of Lent written by members of St. Paul’s, and each reflection is connected to the Scripture readings for the day. All of this can be found on a special blog by clicking HERE, and the blog has links to each day’s biblical passages.

Sometimes the biblical passages fall flat with me, and that is perfectly OK. But sometimes they touch my deepest core. Today’s Epistle from 1 Peter 3:18-22 is written in coded first century language, but decoded it is a declaration of hope, that no one is beyond grace and redemption, that Christ went to the grave to find people in the grave:

“He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison.”

Finally, let me leave you with a poem for Lent that I rather like, by Madeleine L’Engle (1918-2007), whose writing reflects her deep faith and her interest in science.

For Lent, 1966
By Madeleine L’Engle

It is my Lent to break my Lent,
To eat when I would fast,
To know when slender strength is spent,
Take shelter from the blast
When I would run with wind and rain,
To sleep when I would watch.
It is my Lent to smile at pain
But not ignore its touch.
It is my Lent to listen well
When I would be alone,
To talk when I would rather dwell
In silence, turn from none
Who call on me, to try to see
That what is truly meant
Is not my choice. If Christ’s I’d be
It’s thus I’ll keep my Lent.

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May your Lent be filled with holiness and hope.

Spirit of Promise, Spirit of Unity

I haven't written much myself here this week for a number of reasons, though I have been re-posting from other sources. As you may know, Lori injured herself while ski instructing in February.

She had surgery Monday to repair her right knee and she is doing quite well. I've been learning the art of home nursing and discovering the amazing restorative properties of ice packs and sleep. This is turning out to be a very different Lent for both of us than we expected.

Lori found this prayer yesterday morning, and I pass it along to you in the Spirit of all that binds us together in this amazing universe where we dwell:

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Spirit of promise, Spirit of unity,
we thank you that you are also the Spirit of renewal.
Renew in the whole Church, we pray, that passionate desire for
the coming of the kingdom that will unite all Christians in one mission to the world.
May we all grow up together into him, who is our head, the Savior of the world,
and our only Lord and Master. Amen.

- Olive Wyon

Photo: Galaxy NGC 5584, which is 72 million light years from earth, photo by the Hubble Space Telescope, credit NASA Astronomy Picture of the Day, March 30, 2011.

Why pray?

This Lent, quite a number of churches are offering daily reflections written by members of their congregations (and I hope you've seen the daily reflections written by members of St. Paul's; you can reach it by clicking the purple cross to the left).

Among those that have touched me the most is by my dear friend Carolyn Foland, at Trinity Cathedral in Sacramento. Her reflection is based on my favorite psalm.

Here is her reflection:

Psalm 139 

O LORD, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways.

Then why pray? God knows everything anyway.

I don’t pray for God to understand what I need. I pray to understand what I need. Okay, what’s the problem I need help with? Well, it’s this . . . . no, wait, the more I think about it, it’s more this. What did I do to get here? Why did this happen again? What help do I need to get out of here? What action do I need to take?

This inner dialog, I believe, is the process of being in relationship with God. It’s rather like guided meditation. I’m trusting the process to lead me to understand what I need from God and to be open to receiving it. It is a process of learning what to let go of and what I should be doing for myself. I can learn, if I am honest, what there is in the situation in which I find myself that I can affect and what is beyond my control.

There are times, of course, when there is no time for inner dialog. Times for instant surrender. These prayers are spontaneous utterances, usually in the form of four letter expletives. They are also likely to be the most heartfelt requests for deliverance from what’s happening that I am capable of articulating. The one I remember most is when I rolled my MG after encountering black ice in Wyoming. God and I knew exactly what I meant.

Intercessory prayer is a reminder that I need to think of others. I need to remember that there are others with problems. I ask God to help those of my friends in trouble, to heal those who are ill. I could say “this is Your will, God, not mine,” but because I believe that God knows what I want – those I love to be well and free from hardships or danger – it’s less than honest to pretend that I’m cool with whatever happens. I care. I may later pray to understand why something happened or to accept the final outcome, but as long as the future is uncertain, God and I are both clear with what I want. Because whether I say it or not, he knows.

Psalm 139:23 Search me, O God, and know my heart.

Carolyn Foland

Lenten Rose

I am not in the pulpit today, but you can read today's lessons: Genesis 12:1-4a, Romans 4:1-5, 13-17, and John 3:1-17.

In case you've missed it, we've prepared a booklet if reflections written by members of St. Paul's for each day of Lent. You can read the reflections online by clicking on the Lenten Cross to the left.

This came across the other day from Barbara Crafton, who will be with us in December, and I commend this to your Sunday reflections:

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Lenten Rose
By Barbara Crafton 

Most graciously, our last spring with this garden has dawned early -- daffodils ready to pop in mid-March, the little reblooming irises deep purple against all the brown. And the dusky Hellebore has been in bloom for at least a week.

The Hellebore is a favorite of mine. So early, as early as the snowdrops, but with such a sophisticated palette: its flowers are mottled purples and greens. The assertive brightness of the later spring flowers is one thing, but the Hellebore is subtle, almost sly in its sudden appearance --one day just the promise of shiny new leaves and the next day the blooms are there, as if there had been no budding in between.

One of Hellebore's folk names is "Lenten Rose," although the plant is completely unrelated to roses of any kind. Some of their blooms look a little bit like a wild rose, I guess, which would be enough to prompt such a name among long-ago people who had pined another weary winter away longing for spring. But the Lenten Rose is as close as we're going to get to a rose for a while. No actual rose will bloom around here for a good two months.

The forsythia, swelling, ready to burst. The daffodils and then the tulips.
The irises and lilacs, and then the peonies, sturdy and dependable as clocks, already poking their red heads up from underground in their 80-year-old bed. The dogwood, lovely in every season, preparing to layer its drifts of white blossoms that seem to drift in mid-air like clouds. All these beloved -- can I really leave them behind? Strike out somewhere new?

Whether I think I can or not, I will. Life on earth only goes forward. It is
only in heaven, or in dreams, that we can go back.

And will people who come after us love the garden as we have? Will they be patient and let her unfold, showing them her successive treasures as week follows week in the growing season. You can't dictate to a garden new to you, no matter how old a garden it may be or how old a gardener you are. No. You first must let her show you who she is.

 The Almost-Daily eMo from the Geranium Farm Copyright © 2001-2011 Barbara Crafton - all rights reserved

Wearing a hijab this Lent

One of our former parishioners has decided she would wear a hijab -- a head scarf -- as a response to the Congressional hearing into Muslim influence in our country, and is writing about her experience. She's had some interesting responses, to say the least, and so she is writing a blog about it, which you can read by clicking HERE.

That may sound odd to wear a Muslim scarf as a Lenten devotion, but by doing so she is walking the path of a marginalized group of people and experiencing the prejudice they experience. I find that Christ-like. And perhaps all of us might learn something about ourselves from her experience this Lent.

Invited to a Holy Lent

Our Ash Wednesday services yesterday were smaller than the previous year, probably because it is Spring Break at the University of Virginia, and the academic calendar trumps all else in Charlottesville.

Yet, I found it all four services to be a cathartic experience, more so foe me in the past. Perhaps it was because I am more aware of the pain a number of people are feeling both in our congregation and elsewhere. Perhaps it is because of my own need to slow down, take stock, turn back to basics, and experience the Holy right in front of me.

I would like to mention once again the gift from members of St. Paul's in the writing of reflections for each day of Lent. You can read a new reflection for each day by clicking the purple cross on the left of this page, or by clicking HERE.

May you have a good and holy Lent.

James+

Ash Wednesday and our journey through the valley of Lent

Tomorrow we descend again into the valley of Lent, into the darkness before the dawn, into the time of introspection and repentance -- the time of confession and turning back to the saving grace of God. It is also a time to simplify, slow down, and fast. It is a time to be more intentional in prayer, and a time not just to "give up" something, but to give to those who are neediest.

And Lent is more than that.

The liturgy of Ash Wednesday is a reminder of our mortality and the finite nature of life on earth. Easter and new life will come, but first comes this humbling reminder of our limits. I hope you will join us for one of our Ash Wednesday services and the imposition of ashes.

Our Ash Wednesday services at St. Paul's are at 7:30 am, 12:15 pm, 5:30 pm and 7:30 pm. We also have a booklet of Lenten meditations; you can receive a copy at the office, and we will be posting each meditation on a special blog which you can reach by clicking HERE. I will say more about that tomorrow.

Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori has recorded her Lenten message for this year, and I commend it to you:

Presiding Bishop Lent Message 2011 from The Episcopal Church on Vimeo.

Lost Generation?

I am taking a break from typing words for a few days. First, a gentle reminder: the mediations written by St. Paul's members for each day of Lent can be found be clicking HERE.

And this: My cousin Sarah in Los Angeles sent this to me. It is called a "palindrome" -- it can be read forward, then each sentence can be read in reverse, and the meaning reverses when read in reverse. Trust me. Just watch. This is definitely worth a few minutes of your time.

"Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield"

Today's sermon is based on Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35

“Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield.”

Do you notice the first words the Lord Almighty tells Abraham? “Do not be afraid.” It is the same thing angels say when they make an appearance in the Bible: “Do not be afraid.”

What is this about being afraid and God? Maybe there is something scary about encounters with the sacred that make people feel afraid.

Maybe God knows that people become afraid when talk turns to religion: the road map of the Spirit is very sketchy, and religion can get you into a lot of trouble in a hurry in the world.

Look at the lessons this morning: fear laces throughout: God challenges Abraham to go on a long journey to a land far away; he has no idea where he is going, or how to get there, or who he might meet along the way. That is scary.

Or take the letter to the Philippians: Paul is writing to a persecuted Christian community that is facing death at any moment, and he is telling them to not be afraid.

Or take Jesus in the gospel lesson from Luke: His followers tell him that Herod is out to kill him, and Jesus ignores them. “It is not my time yet,” he tells them, “I have much to do, and besides I need to get to Jerusalem first. So stop worrying.”

All of these stories are about journeys that are filled with peril. These stories aren’t necessarily about great people with great faith.

Some people have faith, some people don’t. The stories don’t all have happy endings. What ties these stories together is God’s faithfulness to God’s people. In each story God is present, and God finds a way to bring people home from their journey, no matter how bleak or frightening the situation looks at the time.

So, that raises a question for me: Were those who wrote the Bible unafraid? I don’t think so. Then as now, there was much to fear: wars, disease, crime, natural disasters, and all manner of evil.

Then as now, bad things happen to good people through no fault of their own. All of us here know that – all of us – no matter our age or station in life.

And into that uncertainty comes our God who implores us: Do not be afraid.

Why do we hear this now, in Lent? Maybe because this is the time of year when we are most in need of hearing it.

The fact that Lent comes in the middle of winter is no accident. Lent is the 40 days leading up to Good Friday and Jesus dying on the Cross. Easter is coming, but not yet. First is the journey through the valley of the shadow of Lent, and it is tempting to not go there. But go anyway.
On this journey, we are asked to pay attention to what we see and experience on our walk to Easter.

Lent is a time of surprises. It is a time that we set aside for being just a little more intentional about our walk with God, the time to look inward at what separates us from God, and what separates us from those around us.

The reason we “give up” something for Lent isn’t out of masochistic obligation, but to bring ourselves into a place where we notice the presence of God in the ordinary.

So if you want to give up something, give up being distracted, or give up being too busy to smile or to laugh. Give up being too busy to pray.

Or this: how about giving up being afraid to hear the small still voice telling you that you really are loved, you truly are the beloved of God?

How about giving up fear for Lent?

Find a way to simplify, slow down, lighten up and discover again what really matters in life. That might lead you to saying yes to a new adventure in your life. It might lead you to reaching outside yourself by participating in one of our ministries in the community that we are celebrating today as part of our Centennial.

Notice one more thing: After God tells Abraham to not be afraid, Abraham replies, “O Lord, what will you give me?”

That sounds like a rather impertinent question: What’s in it for me?

And God replies: everything is in it for you: You will have many heirs, and much abundance; grace upon grace is yours forever. So stop worrying. “I am your shield.”

God tells Abraham that no matter how hard the journey, no matter how terrifying the darkness descending, God will be there with Abraham and his descendants.

“I am your shield,” God tells us.

We are the descendants of Abraham, each one of us. God’s promise of faithfulness to Abraham is God’s promise to us – and is ours forever. AMEN

Photo of the Abraham stained glass window at Canterbury Cathedral; the window dates from the 12th century and is south facing.

While I am away...

There is a lot going on at St. Paul's tomorrow, so I hope you will be there. It is the First Sunday of Lent, and it begins with the chanting of the Great Litany. The cantor (Daniel Hine) will be chanting the "prayers of the people" in the opening litany, including the names of those who have asked prayers for healing, and those who have died.

We also have a double-header Sunday in adult education. I hope you will avail yourself of one of these opportunities:

An authentic Haitian Meal Fund Raiser with The Rev. Elisa Wheeler of Episcopal Relief and Development after the 10:00 am service. The Rev. Wheeler will be our guest preacher at both the 8am and 10 am worship services, and will speak at the luncheon about ERD’s work in the aftermath of the devastating earthquake in Haiti.

We are also launching Lenten series on end-of-life issues, led by The Rev. Ann Willms, our associate rector. "Talking About Death Won't Kill You: A Lenten Series About Grace-Filled Endings" continue on Wednesday Feb. 24 and through Lent. This Sunday we have a guest speaker, Marcia Childress, who will be joining Ann for this.

Before you decide that this topic is too grim for you, please do think again. Even those of you who are in your 20s need to know about these issues, not just for yourself but for the care you might need to be giving your parents one day. I can tell you from personal experience having cared for my father before he died, I wish I had known more than I did at the time.

Our Lenten reflections are now in the blogosphere

Some very talented members of St. Paul's have written a series of mediations for each day of Lent, beginning with a poem by Anna Askounis for today. The mediations are a gift from the people of St. Paul's Memorial Church to you, and come in a booklet that is yours for the asking.

We've also put the mediations on a blog; a new mediation will appear each day on this new blog. The name of the blog is St. Paul's Lenten Mediations, and you can access this site by clicking HERE. I hope you will bookmark it and go back each day for a few minutes. You can also leave your own reflections in the comment section of each entry.

Thanks to all of our authors, and especially to Nancy Brockman for coordinating and editing this huge effort in honor of our Centennial celebration.

Journey to Jerusalem: Join us on the walk this Lent

Lori came across this the other day: a website with a 40-day walk through the Holy Land that leads to Jerusalem and the Cross, sponsored by the U.K. organization Christian Aid. For those unfamiliar with the organization, it describes its purpose:

We have a long history of working in this region. With an outspoken resolve we work with Israeli and Palestinian organisations to protect human rights, secure access to services and resources, and build peace based on justice and security for all.

In the last decade, Palestinian poverty levels have trebled and violence on both sides has escalated - there is still much to do.

Each day Christian Aid is taking us to a different place along the road to Jerusalem, to places you would expect to see, but places that will startle you nonetheless. This walk to the Cross is not sugar-coated. Yesterday, on the walk, we went to Bethlehem, and we had to get through a check-point at the massive wall separating Palestinians from Israelis. Each day has a description and photos and sometimes a video.

This is a tough walk to Jerusalem, even if the closest you get to the Holy Land is the computer screen in front of you. I commend this journey this Lent, and Lori and we will take it with you each day. Click Journey to Jerusalem to begin your journey (and you can go back a few days to catch up, it won't take long). Also, I am putting the Christian Aid logo on the left side of this blog, and you can click it each day to return to the journey.

May you have many blessings this Lent,

Jim+