"The Holy Innocents" (Matthew 2:13-18)

Why, O God,
must we remember
the words
of the slaughter
of the Holy Innocents
today?

Just days ago,
we sought the Christ-child.
The heavens exploded
with joy
and proclamation
and we raised our candles
as if they were
the soft twinkling
of stars in a
night's sky.

We heard once again
the story
of shepherds running
from their flocks,
to the very place
where Love was born
and our hearts
were filled with their
excitement.

We are now looking East,
toward the horizon
for magi
bearing gifts
and we wonder
what gifts
might we also bring.

Why, O God,
must we remember
these Holy Innocents now
when we have knelt
at a manger
to witness Love
first-hand?

It is
less painful
and sorrowful
for us
to close
our eyes
to this.

Is it because
there are still
Innocents today?
In Nigeria or Pakistan ...
or in our own streets?
Nameless and named?

Is it because
there are still
Innocents today ?
Hungry
and cold?
Nameless and named?

Is it because
there are still
Holy Innocents today?
Battered and bruised
in the very place
they call home?
Nameless and named?

Why, O God,
must we remember
the Holy Innocents?

"Because, my child,
there are Innocents
in this world today,
and 
mothers
weeping and
refusing to be
comforted.
There are still
Herods who
have both 
great power and
great fear
within them.

You must not forget
and you must not
look away."
  
c) 2014 revised   anna murdock

"What Do I Want for Christmas?"

(Please read Luke 2:8-20)

Each year, my family insists that we spend some time writing Christmas lists so that the lists might be shared with each other.  I always have a difficult time with this.  My needs are very practical and not very “Christmasy”.  What I want for Christmas is much different than what any one family member can give to me.  You see, I want to be one of the shepherds!

What do I want for Christmas?  In the midst of what is usually a very predictable Christmas for me, I want to be surprised by angelic announcements.  I want just a glimpse of the glory of the Lord on this silent, familiar-story sort of a night.  I want to be calmed by “fear not’s”.  I want to find myself holding my breath for a moment at the sounds of a heavenly-host chorus.  I want to be one of the shepherds!

What do I want for Christmas?  I want to hurry to Bethlehem, running down the hillside much like I remember doing as a child.  I want to risk running so fast that my feet might outrun my body … running, tumbling, picking myself up and running once more.  Yes, I want to hurry to Bethlehem with spontaneity and anticipation to see the One whose birth the angels sing. I want to be one of the shepherds!

What do I want for Christmas?  I want to kneel at the manger and realize that God has brought me to this place and has asked me to soak in the sights, the smells, the night air, the infant cries, the faithful parents and that first birth announcement.  I want to kneel for a moment in awe, wonder and recognition that God’s long-awaited Promise is before me.  I want to be overwhelmed by God’s love. I want to squint at the Light that has come into this dark world.  I want to be lost in the wonder of it all.  I want to whisper, “Immanuel” and hear God whisper back, “Yes, I am with you.”  I want to sigh a relieved sigh at this news.  I want to be one of the shepherds!

What do I want for Christmas?  I know that I must return to my “hillside” … to my job and my routines.  But I want to return from looking heavenward, from running to the manger, from kneeling at just the thoughts of being in the presence of the long-awaited Messiah to a different sameness.  I want to return to my world, to my hillside, glorifying and praising God for all things that I have seen and heard.  I want to be so taken aback by it all that I can’t help but share what I know with others.  I want to be one of the shepherds!

What do I want for Christmas?  I want company on the hillside on this most holy of nights.  I want other shepherds with me, privy to the angelic announcement, being offered a glimpse of the glory of the Lord and running toward the manger with me.  I want to kneel with others in prayer and praise and wonder and know that this “Promise Kept” is not just for me but for all.  I want to walk back to our hillsides together, changed forever.

What do I want for Christmas?  I want to be a shepherd.  Care to join me?

(c) 2006  anna murdock

"Ready to GLORIFY" (Thoughts on the 4th Sunday of Advent)

Last night, I drove by the church (Broad Street UMC / Statesville, NC) and glanced at the sign that shares with all passersby the worship times, our pastors' names and the sermon title. The sermon title is "GLORIFY!"

I smile as I think of that early this morning in the warm glow of the four Advent candles (and just a few days before Christmas). I wonder ... hmmmm ... just days before the birth of the Christ-child, were the angels "warming up" their proclamation and praise and glorifying ways? Were they antsy to burst through the heavens? Did God restrain them for a few more days? In this one word, GLORIFY, I sense the stage being set ... the angels giddy with joy (and ready and waiting to explode the heavens) and this babe, the Christ-child, being held in the very hands of God. On this day, the waiting of Advent for me becomes thoughts of the waiting of angels and the waiting of God and the waiting of the world. GLORIFY! It is filling our hearts and on the tips of our tongues. It is drawing ever closer!

In our Advent waiting, may we be much like the angels ... ready and waiting and maybe even a little giddy with joy as we prepare to proclaim the birth of the Holy Child.

"GLORIA IN EXCELSIS DEO!"  (I'm practicing!)

"An Advent Joy-Sighting!"

Last Sunday (Advent 3), many of you who are pastors pointed us to ADVENT JOY. The choirs sang of JOY.  Some of you chose scriptures that reminded us of Mary's JOY.  We left our churches and wondered if there would be a joy-sighting in these hectic days before Christmas.   We hoped for that. Yesterday, I witnessed just that ... JOY.

While I am normally not at my apartment when the school buses arrive, I was yesterday afternoon.  As I was leaving to go back to work, I saw a sight that I had never seen before.  There were mothers waiting at the top of the hill with young children who were too young to go to school. The bus was at the bottom of the hill. Of course, I waited until all the children stepped out of the bus. The first child to step down was a boy (10 years old would be my guess). His steps were faltering and painful to watch. The others piled off of the bus and ran through the trees and grass, up the hill to their mothers. The first child struggled to walk. I feared that he would fall but he kept trying to make his way through the leaves and around roots of trees and up the hill. I heard a young child scream with delight, “There he is … There he is!”  I turned to see a little boy squirming to break free from his mother's arms.   The mother released the little one and he tumbled through the leaves and down the hill, straight for his older brother. He grabbed him and held him tight. There was great joy in their smiles.

As I drove back to work, I thought that this might be a reflection of Advent JOY for me this year … an example of our own belovedness in God’s heart.  At the end of the day, when there is weariness and an accumulation of moments that has placed some faltering, stumbling and struggle into my hours, I trust that it is God who meets me where I most need to be met, with an anticipation, excitement and love beyond any word-pictures that I might paint.  Yes, my hope in this was renewed when I saw LOVE run to the young boy and JOY shine from the both of them.

Today, I joyfully give thanks that God loves us in this way.  Advent 3 opened my eyes and heart to witness this.   Now, I am looking forward to the 4th Sunday of Advent!   In that anticipation, I am praying for you all as you prepare for this Sunday.  I am truly thankful for clergy and worship teams, choirs, scriptures and liturgy that point the way for us to experience such moments as this.

"God Sings!"

"The LORD will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing." (Zephaniah 3:17)

Recently, our church welcomed two distinguished musicians ... an oboist and a violinist. Their first offering was called "Antiphonal Praise". The musicians stood apart from each other ... first the oboist played and then the violinist responded. Back and forth they "sang" to each other with their instruments until finally, they played the last notes together. As I heard someone later say, "It was achingly beautiful."

When I read the scriptures this morning, I thought of this. We come together on Sundays and join our voices in songs of worship and praise to God. Until this morning, I had thought of these beautiful hymns as being one-sided ... worshipers singing to God. After reading Zephaniah 3:17 this morning, I sense that we are like this offering of music by the oboist and violinist. We sing ... and of all things, God sings! Back and forth, we sing to each other until finally, like the oboist and violinist, we sing together in holy and beautiful music.

God rejoices over us with gladness ... God loves us so much as to renew us in his love ... and GOD SINGS!

"For All Who Feel Like Nose-less Camels"

I have been waiting for the first day of Advent for so long. If I could have stepped into Advent last week or the week before or even a month before, I would have done just that. Even the "waiting" DURING Advent begins with "waiting" FOR Advent, doesn't it?

Sunday morning, I awoke hoping beyond hope that I would feel like the sweet and peace-filled angel standing near the 63-year-old manger at my mother’s house... oh, not the angel hovering precariously above, proclaiming the birth of the Christ-child, but the one standing so close that she might hear an infant's cry and see both the tears of a mother and the wonder on a father's face. Instead of feeling sweet and angelic, Sunday morning I felt a bit more like the nose-less camel found in Mom’s nativity, burdened by all that was placed on the camel's back (the other camels aren't bearing any noticeable loads and are resting ... what gives with that???). Where it is placed year after year, this particular camel never has a good view of the Holy Family. For some reason, the camel with no nose is the only camel that needs a handler.  I wonder why ... I wonder if there is restlessness within that one because life has wounded him a little.

So, during this first week of Advent, I will pray for all of those who feel a bit like nose-less camels on this journey to Bethlehem ... wounded, burdened, restless and in need of coming closer to see the Christ-child in a manger.

"It Was an Ecclesiastes-Sort-of-Morning"

“Vanity of vanities,” says the Teacher, 
 “vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
 What do people gain from all the toil 
  at which they toil under the sun?”

The truck blocked my view
of the traffic light this morning.
I relied on its movement
to tell me when the light
had changed to green.
It moved, slowly at first,
creeping up to the speed limit.
Leaves flew out of the
bed of the truck,
hitting my windshield …
so many leaves …
so much hard work and effort
in raking and gathering
the leaves by those
I shall never know
and for what purpose?
I couldn’t help but think
of the words of the “Teacher”.
It was an Ecclesiastes-sort-of-morning.

“The wind blows to the south,
  and goes around to the north;
round and round goes the wind,
and on its circuits the wind returns.”
(says the Teacher).

Once the leaves discovered
their escape route,
more and more flew
out of the truck,
dancing about joyfully,
flying through the air
with a freedom
beyond description.
Although there was
a windshield between
the leaves and me,
I had the urge to pick them
out of my hair or
brush them off of my clothes
or spit them out of my mouth.
So many leaves …
so much hard work and effort
and for what purpose?
Yes, it was an Ecclesiastes-sort-of-morning.

“All things are wearisome;
more than one can express;
…  What has been is what will be,
  and what has been done is what will be done;
there is nothing new under the sun.”
(says the Teacher).

I wondered if these very leaves
had once been discovered
by children.
Had they seen
the delight and smiles
and heard
the giggles
of little ones?
Had the leaves
first been raked into piles
that were calling out
for children and dogs
to “come and play” …
crying out to them
before the beautiful
golds and reds and oranges
were finally tossed
into the back of this truck?

If not,
then for the leaves alone,
the “Teacher” is right …
Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher, 
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.

It was an Ecclesiastes-sort-of-morning.

"1 of 1,034,000"

Every Tuesday, I head to the local cafeteria for what has become known as my "Tuesday Eat-and-Read".  Yesterday (Veteran's Day Nov. 11),  I chose to look for news on my Kindle instead of diving into the book that I’m currently reading.

A lady who was sitting two booths from me was talking in a very loud voice to the man sitting across from her. “HOW DID UNCLE J.B. DIE? DID YOU KNOW THAT SO-AND-SO HAS EYE PROBLEMS? RALPH CAN’T EAT HEAVY FOOD SO I’M GOING TO GET A TAKE-OUT OF MASHED POTATOES BEFORE WE LEAVE. WE’LL GIVE IT TO HIM WHEN WE VISIT HIM.”

This went on and on … she, shouting her words and the elderly man whispering so quietly that I couldn’t possibly hear him. I struggled to concentrate on the news for the day … “only 1,034,000 U.S. World War II veterans still living … 555 die each day … by 2036, there will be no World War II veteran alive.”

Again, the woman yelled. “ARE YOU READY TO GO?” I heard nothing from the man. He placed his World War II Veteran cap on his head and slowly slid out of the booth. He stood straight and proud, steadying himself with his cane, and then walked through the restaurant with determination, leaving the woman behind to catch up with him.

It occurred to me that during my "Tuesday Eat-and-Read", I was staring at the back of the head of one of the 1,034,000 World War II veterans mentioned on the screen of my Kindle. “O God, be with this man and the other 1,033,999 today. Remind them that they are beloved by you and appreciated by so many. Amen.”

"Yes, You Can!"

Do not fear for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God;  I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand … For I, the LORD your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Do not fear, I will help you.”   (Isaiah 41:10 and 13  NRSV)

There will be days
when others say
“No you can’t”
and you know
without pause
or doubt
that God has whispered,
“You can.”

When all things,
even the weather,
seem to side
with the naysayers,
you still know
with all certainty
that there is another way
to be revealed,
a better path to take,
for God doesn’t place
ideas
and hope
and joy
and perseverance
within a person
without purpose.

Wait for the next day
or the day after that.
Wait for
the “You Can’t” from others
to be watered down
and weakened
by the power
and strength
of the“You Can”
from God.
Wait for
perfect timing
that is of God’s design
and direction.

Trust
that the right time
will come
and that
when you walk away
from those who say
“You can’t”
you will come
face-to-face
with those who say
with a smile,
“You have come
to the right place!”

And once again,
God whispers
not just
“You can”
but “You will.”

"O God, Let It Be So!"

Last Friday afternoon, I pulled into the busiest gas station in High Point (lower gas prices naturally create long lines and lengthy wait times). I was fortunate.  I found a spot quickly.  As I was pumping gas, I noticed a car creeping around the rows of gas pumps, the driver obviously looking for the best and fastest lane. We all know the ways of this … unless absolutely necessary, waiting behind vans, suvs or trucks probably isn’t the best choice and the majority of vehicles that day were those. I was almost finished so I motioned for him to pull in behind my car. He did.

Suddenly, his door opened and out jumped an African-American man in his 40’s. “Excuse me … may I show you something?” I don't think that I've ever had anyone ask me that at a gas pump. Hmmm… ok, there were men pumping gas in the lanes beside of me so why not. So, I said, “Sure!” He reached into his car and pulled out a cotton shirt in the most beautiful African print. It was obviously new, still with the creases in it from shipping. He held it up and asked, “What do you think?” It was beautiful and I told him so. Then the man’s face lit up and his grin turned into an ear-to-ear smile. He said, “I think so too! I ordered the shirt from Africa and it has just arrived. I couldn’t WAIT to show someone. I’m SOOO proud of it!  Can't you tell?” I laughed and said, “I can tell by your face … by your smile! You chose the perfect shirt. It is very beautiful.” “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” the man said. He returned to the driver’s seat and I finished filling up my car and drove off.

This Monday morning, as I think back on that and as I ready myself for a new week, I wonder if there will be a moment in my week that will arrive like a long-awaited package, just for me, that will light up my face when I recognize the moment as beautiful and holy, and that will give me words that I can't wait to share with another person.

O God, let it be so!

"Perfect Provision - a prayer"

(Exodus 16:2-15 ... lectionary scriptures for 9-21-14)

Too often,

I look to the heavens

for the decade’s

greatest snowstorm

of blessings ...

and pray

for an accumulation

in amounts that

are astounding.

Oh God,

thank you for my friend

who said,

“Look down

at the blessings

that have softly fallen

like manna

all around us….

fallen silently

like a dusting of snow,

to be gathered in amounts

of Perfect Provision

for this one day alone.

Amen.

(c)2011 anna murdock

"Never-Ending"

(Matthew 18:21-35 ... Lectionary Scripture for 9-14-14)
 
Jesus says, "Seventy-seven times.  It is never-ending... this forgiveness."   May we see no end to forgiveness, no end to God's assurance, and no end to the Great Love that binds us together.  May the One who is without limits send us out to share this 'never-ending' good news with others.  This is the community of faith that we are called to be.  


I saw an older man
dressed in torn and dirty clothes.
He was in need of a shave
and surely a hot shower
would have felt good to him.

This man, walking along my route,
was mumbling to himself
and counting his fingers –
touching each finger to his thumb;
first the right hand -
one, two, three, four …
then his left hand -
one, two, three, four …
then back to his right hand -
one, two, three, four.


And so it went,
on and on
and on and on.
The counting seemed
to never end …
from right hand to left,
from finger to finger
to finger to finger.

What was so important
to this man of the streets?
What words were needing
to come out and be spoken?
Was he just “another one of those”
who mumbled quietly
as they walked along
the roads of our lives?

As I continued my drive to work,
weary from the day before,
angry from two days before,
feeling very alone
from the week so far,
I too began to mumble
and count the ways
to weariness,
to anger,
to aloneness.

How many times
am I to forgive
(both myself and others)?
From right hand to left,
from left hand to right,
and back to the right hand
again…
from finger to finger
to finger to finger …
the counting seems
to never end.

How many times and ways
are the words “Be not afraid”
whispered, written, shouted
to all who fear …
(and don’t we all fear)?
From right hand to left,
from left hand to right,
and back to the right hand
again…
from finger to finger
to finger to finger …
the counting seems
to never end.

And what about God’s Love?
How many times is this Love
seen, felt, whispered,
promised, given and received?
From right hand to left,
from left hand to right,
and back to the right hand
again…
from finger to finger
to finger to finger …
the counting seems
to never end.

If this man is “one of those”,
who mumble and count,
then I am one as well …
one of those
who cannot fathom
such forgiveness,
such assurance,
such Love ...
for it is all
NEVER-ENDING.

"I SEEEEE YOUUUU!"

“But you have God-blessed eyes—eyes that see! And God-blessed ears—ears that hear! A lot of people, prophets and humble believers among them, would have given anything to see what you are seeing, to hear what you are hearing, but never had the chance.”
(Matthew 13:16-17 from The Message)

Once again, I saw the man along my way to work.  He is always seated on a stump or a large plastic can, saying a few words to himself, smiling a sweet smile.  I have noticed that he wears a toboggan in all seasons (a toque, for my Canadian friends).  I have wondered what he sounds like, what his smile looks like up close, if his eyes twinkled.  I wonder no more.

One night this past week, I met a friend for supper.   We walked into the restaurant and there HE sat!  Toboggan on … smile ready for the next person to walk through the doors … eyes twinkling.  His laugh was deep and that of a blend of Jim the Shoeshine Man, years ago, standing at his shoeshine stand on a downtown corner of my hometown and Uncle Remus on a much loved story-book album (both men, I loved in my childhood).   The man pointed to my friend and said with great joy, “HEY, it’s good to see you again!” She smiled and said, “Hi! It’s good to see you (although she had never seen him before).”  When the man smiled, his cheeks became more pronounced, making his eyes squint and twinkle even more.  He asked if she was OK.  “Yes, I’m doing well.”   “Good, good,” he said as he shook his head from side to side and smiled as if praising God for that good news.  He asked if she was still going to church.  When she said YES, he said, “Good, good, I’ll keep praying for you.”  My friend thanked him.

Then, he looked my way, pointing and said, “Who is this?”   My friend said, “Oh, she is my friend.”  The man’s smile couldn’t have grown any bigger.  He held up his large hand and said, “Hi FRIEND!  I see you!” Then, he put his hands up to his eyes as if they were binoculars and said with a huge belly-laugh, “I SEEEEEEE YOUUUUUU!!!!!!”   For some reason, my response was a reciprocated smile and the words, “I see you too!”   “Good, good,” he said with a laugh that echoed with joy.

My friend and I were ushered to our table and our thoughts turned to the news of our families and work and life in general.   The man had come and gone with a take-out box in hand, leaving his smile and laughter bouncing around in my memory.

The following day, as I drove by him on my way to work, I could “SEEEEEE HIMMMM” in a way that I had never seen this invisible man on the streets before.  I could see the twinkle in his eyes in a different way, hear the laughter that surely followed his great big smile, hear the things that were important to him such as a person doing well or going to church or prayer.  I knew that one of the most important things for him was for someone to “SEEEEE” another person.   He taught me that with his “hand binoculars”, seeing me at a time when it was I who felt a little invisible.

"Just When ... "

(Please read Exodus 3:1-15)
  
Just when the young
have their hectic schedules
finalized on their calendars …

Just when baby boomers
have their lives
carefully mapped out …

Just when retirees
think that they have
indeed retired …

Just when our lives
become routine and settled …
and just when we think
that we will never
hear the voice of God,
IT HAPPENS.

Yes, just when we begin to believe
that we are who we are
and are who we will always be,
God calls our name,
not once, but twice …
commanding attention
as one might do
to a child who hasn’t listened.

Just when we put on
our well-worn bedroom slippers again,
comfortable and familiar,
we hear
“Take off your slippers.
You are standing on holy ground!”

Just when you call our names,
O Great I AM,
and as we lean upon you
to remove our slippers,
forgive our initial fears and excuses;
forgive us if the first words
from our mouths are
“B-b- but  G-G-God …
I haven’t had a pedicure yet!”

Just when our names spoken
still echo in our hearts …
just when our feet are bared,
and our favorite slippers
are tossed aside,
may our prayers be
that when called,
each of us might say,
“Here I am.”
 

"The Question"

(personal ponderings on Matthew 16:13-20)

There are those days
when my head is lowered
in the “I should haves’
or  “I could haves” but “didn’ts”.
In those days, my eyes are downcast.
He is looking directly at me.
I don’t need to look his way …
I sense in his voice, disappointment.
I can hear an occasional sigh.
Yet, his eyes don’t turn away from me.
He has seen my stumbling.
He has heard words carelessly pour out of my mouth
and he has heard my deafening silence of omission.
And yet, if I would only look up
I could see his love for me,
even as he shakes his head and whispers,
“So like Peter.  So, so like Peter.”

There are those days
when Jesus once more looks directly at me …
into my eyes.
He gently lifts my lowered head and asks,
“But what about you?  Who do you say that I am?”
All movement around me comes to a standstill.
The others near me freeze into place for a moment.
I can hear my own breathing
and even though I could turn my eyes away,
I don’t.

Others around me vie for his attention.
Hands shoot up as if they are children in a classroom.
“Pick me!  Oh, pick me!  I know the answer,” they shout.
Some are guesses … “A prophet!  Elijah!
John the Baptist!  Jeremiah!”
The others speak in words that are different from my own …
words that seem memorized,
pouring from the head and not from the heart.

There are those days
when I am asked THE QUESTION.
He waits for no answer other than mine.
In words that I barely recognize, I answer,
"You are the Messiah!  You are my LORD."
The words spill out from the seeking place in my heart.
Spilling out from his heart are words as well.
“Blessed are you.   These words did not come
from those who have memorized them
or from those who have borrowed words from others;
you have heard this from my Father!"

There are those days … actually each and every day,
when the implications of this answered question
cannot be ignored.
I have called him ‘Messiah’;
I have called him LORD;
He has called me ‘Disciple’
and placed me on a new path
paved with Solid Rock.

"A Superhero Sighting"

I saw a Superhero yesterday. Yes I did!

While I was at a stoplight at a major intersection, I glanced to my right to see a pickup truck in the lane beside of me. Inside of the truck were a mother and a little boy, probably no more than 3 years old. The back window was opened. A large tractor/trailer was slowly approaching the pickup truck from behind. Suddenly a little hand stuck out of the pickup's window. I could tell by the little shirt sleeve that it was Spiderman! The arm was held steady and straight out, the palm of little Spiderman's hand was facing the large tractor/trailer,steady and determined to stop the truck. Yes, the truck stopped and the small hand of Spiderman withdrew when his heroic duty was done. The little boy looked at his mother with an excited expression on his face and huge smile. I could see that he was saying, "I DID IT!" Yes, you did, Spiderman. You DID stop that truck with the palm of your hand. I am witness to that!

This morning, I posted the ‘heroic act’ on Facebook and a pastor commented that she never sees such interesting things in her day.   Why is it that some of us do see these special moments in ordinary days and others don’t?   I shared with her something that I have learned and take to heart.  I try to go into my day always anticipating that God will point me to a Superhero (or someone in need of a Superhero).  Often, I see that one or the other is very near to me.  And yes, there are times when God whispers, “Anna, it’s your turn! Put on your Spiderman shirt, hold your hand out and be a Superhero today!”

It’s a part of what we pray in our churches each Sunday, isn’t it?  “Thy kingdom come on earth ….”

"Something Kept Them Together"

(thoughts on John 14:1)

In the room,
they waited,
prayed,
and in
hushed voices,
wondered
why.

Something
kept them
together.

Surely,
they remembered
disturbing words
of betrayal,
of impending
death,
of denials,
of rumbles
among the people …
and of the
promised resurrection.

They were
in his presence
for so long.
Why?
Now they remembered
the words,“Wait.
Gather together and wait.”
That is what
they had come
together to do …
WAIT.

Something
kept them
together.

Then they heard
the words
from the One
whose death
and now presence
had moved them
from deepest grief
to bewildering joy …
“Believe in God,
believe also in me.”

They heard
“I am the way…”
and suddenly
it became
more about
the confidence
in the
continued journey
with him
than the
destination.

Something
kept them
together
to be sent
out for others.

The puzzle pieces
were falling
into place.
“Believe in God,
believe also in me.”
Teachings and words
that they
had heard for
three years
became
infallible promises.

The door was
opened
and the disciples …
the witnesses
waited no more.

(c)  anna murdock

"The Road to a Mess"

(Luke 24:13-35)

That particular Sunday morning happened to be one of those mornings when things just clicked for me.  The sun was shining through the stained glass windows in the empty sanctuary.  For reasons I can’t remember, I decided to spend some quiet prayer time in the sanctuary alone.  The timing was during Sunday school classes and well before our worship service.  I sat on a pew near the back - near the large “Road to Emmaus” stained glass window.

Suddenly, in the middle of this time of prayer that was coloured by the sun shining through the stained glass, the inner doors to the sanctuary opened and a stream of 3-to-5 year olds walked in with their Sunday school teacher.  “Shhh,” whispered the teacher. They quietly headed to the huge stained glass window near me – the one that depicted Jesus and the men on the road to Emmaus.  Their teacher had read them the story and now they were looking at the beautiful window as their illustration.

The first question from the teacher was, “What are the men wearing?”  “Dresses,” they shouted.  I had to smile (OK, so the robes do look a little like dresses).   The teacher asked, “Where are they?”  All but one shouted, “They are on the road to Emmaus!”  That one, a sweet little boy standing closest to me said, “They are on the road to a mess.”  Out of the mouths of babes!  

Thank you, God, (and this little boy) for reminding us that there are times when we do indeed find ourselves on the "road to a mess.”  We have followed Jesus.  We have heard his promises and trusted him.  We know that all he did, he did for us.  Our faith tends to be present-tense and future-tense.  We mumble through “Christ has died” and shout “Christ is risen” and “Christ will come again!”  But there are times when our present-tense faith takes on a past-tense air.  Changes in our lives do that at times.  Changes certainly did that for our friends on the road to Emmaus.  “He WAS a prophet,” Cleopas said.  “He WAS powerful in word and deed before God and all the people,” he continued.  “We HAD hoped …,” Cleopas went on to say as they walked along the way.  These two men had looked into the eyes of Jesus.  They had heard his very voice speak promises of hope and salvation.  They had witnessed the crucifixion and stood in the presence of eyewitnesses to his resurrection as they heard their accounts.  But crucifixion and resurrection brought with it great changes in the lives of these two men.  Past-tense faith stopped them dead in their sandals.  Past-tense faith made them downcast.  Past-tense faith caused them to see a stranger, not Jesus, along their journey.  Past-tense faith found them walking on the road to despair, hopelessness, grief and fear as they headed back home.  As my little friend so perfectly said, “They are on the road to a mess.”

Changes of any kind can indeed head us down the “road to a mess” if we walk by sight only and not also by faith.  Thank goodness, Cleopas and the other one strongly urged ‘the stranger’ to stay with them that evening.  Hospitality welcomed Jesus into the home.  It is there where they finally recognized this stranger who had walked with them.  In this one day, the Risen Christ walked with them, spoke to them and ate with them.  In this one day, our two friends’ faith changed from a past-tense faith to a present-tense faith that could not wait for morning to come to be shared.  No longer were they on the road to a mess!

"The Fragrance of Extravagant Worship"

(John 12:1-11)

As we read today’s Scriptures, there is this realization within us that there is a change of time and pace. Our Lenten journey toward Jerusalem has stopped for a while. We have waved our palms and shouted our Hosannas.  For so many days, we have been in prayer and have come before God with repentant hearts. There has been reflection and healing. But now Jesus wants to spend more time with each of us, apart from the growing crowds in Jerusalem. It is this change that brings a time of fellowship with him, when our hearts are exposed. Will we pour out extravagant love and worship our Lord’s way? Are we filled with a love for Jesus to the point of overflowing? This is what this change of pace is all about. It is a time to think about these things. Where are our hearts?

There is something quite breathtaking in Mary’s act of extravagant worship. Did Martha stop serving others and gasp at the sight of her sister loosening her hair, or was she too busy to notice? Did anyone hear the sounds of the perfume’s container being broken open or did all heads turn at the first scents that floated into the air? Were mumbles first uttered from the men around the table or were there shouts of "STOP!" Surely, spontaneous and extravagant acts of worship silence a room for a moment before any objections can be voiced.

Outside of the walls of Lazarus’ house, rumblings of fear, power and hatred could be heard as if thunder in the distance. Inside the home, disciples and friends gathered with Jesus to enjoy each other’s company. Suddenly "the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume." There she was. Mary,in worship, pouring her most costly possession on the feet of her Lord. Anointing his feet with nard. Wiping them with her loosened hair. This was an extravagant outpouring of love and spontaneous worship that could wait no longer. Judas objected, but it didn’t seem to matter. Mary, above all others, knew that Jesus was her Lord and Savior. While the others had failed to listen closely as they walked with Jesus, while the others argued among themselves, while the others slept, Mary had pondered Jesus’ miracles and listened carefully to his words. She had witnessed the power of God. She had experienced God’s love. She knew that the One who sat at her table was truly the Messiah. Down came her hair. Out came her most priceless possession. The perfume of adoration, love, worship, praise and offering filled the room and ultimately the world. That is what extravagant worship is like … spontaneous, overflowing, priceless and permeating.

Yes, there is a change of pace now that the palms have been laid aside. What will today bring in this new light? Extravagant worship? Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and smell worship’s fragrance.

O God … Suddenly we see that this change of time and pace calls for each of us to stop and claim who Jesus is in our lives. May our worship be akin to Mary’s worship … spontaneous and extravagant with a love for Jesus that breaks open our hearts and cannot help but flow, scenting our world with love and compassion for others and calling us to costly discipleship. Change our time and pace, O God. Change our time and pace. Amen.

Lenten Intercessory Prayers (based on John 9:1-41)

“Let us pray to the Lord” (pastor)    

“Lord, have mercy” (congregation)

O God of Light  … For the opening of the eyes and hearts of the people of faith during our Lenten walk with the One who is the Light of the world.  For our individual response to Jesus’ question, “Do you believe in the Son of Man”… let us pray to the Lord. 

Lord, have mercy

O God of the Downtrodden… For those who have too long been judged by their pasts. For those who have never seen the goodness of others.  For those who have been marginalized and overlooked along the dusty roads of their lives.  For those who have been belittled by their differences of abilities.  For those who find themselves begging for light in their darkness …. let us pray to the Lord.

Lord, have mercy

O God of Mercy… For those who are blind to the witness of others. For those who think God’s healing is only for them.  And yes, even for those who seek to discredit the Son of Man … let us pray to the Lord

Lord, have mercy

O God of the Church … For those in leadership who are praying for sight, direction and guidance for the good of the Church.  For their decision-making through you.  For congregations and pastors to grow together for one great and holy purpose … let us pray to the Lord.

Lord, have mercy

O God of our Calling … For the desire within us to become the hands of Christ.  For our willingness to muddy our hands and touch the blindness of others.  For the courage and strength to stand in the face of scoffers and point to your Light in this world …  let us pray to the Lord.

Lord, have mercy

O Listening God … For those prayers which we do not know how to speak, and the prayers we make in the silence of our hearts … let us pray to the Lord.

Lord, have mercy.

(prayers by anna murdock)

"In the Presence of My Enemies"

(Thoughts on a portion of Psalm 23)

You prepared a table before me
in the presence of my enemies
and, at first,
I was nothing more
than a bleating sheep,
unable to understand.

It was when you asked me to help,
O God, that I truly understood ...
or at least understood
in the way that you asked me
to understand.

You handed a chalice to me
from the table you prepared
and whispered, "For all."
I gulped.
"Oh God... really?
For all?"

You whispered again,
"Look into their eyes,
offer to them what I have prepared,
Some might be your enemies,
but none are mine."

And so I stood,
at the end of an aisle,
with chalice in hand
and wept at the thoughts
of my enemies welcomed
to the table
that was prepared for me
in such a generous way.

The table was not mine;
the guest list was not mine;
the chalice never ran dry ...
nor did the grace and mercy.

Once again, I heard,
"Do this in remembrance ...
and remember,
these are not my enemies."

Over and over again,
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies,
and then you say, "All sit ... together."
And still the chalice never runs dry
for those around the table -
not even for me.

(c)2011 anna murdock

"Coming With Questions"

This is my personal encounter (in 1995) with John 3:1-17. As Martin Luther said (in essence), this is the beginning of when I began to daily put on the garment of my baptism.

She stood outside
in the dark
of an August night ...
so uninvited,
so unannounced.

She stood outside
ringing the doorbell,
knocking on the door,
wondering what words
might come from her mouth;
she had no thoughts as to
what sentences,
if any,
might flow.

The pastor opened the door
and welcomed her in ....
even without the fair warning
that he deserved,
he welcomed her in.
His wife pointed to the sofa
yet she chose the floor.
It seemed right
for some reason.

Her first words were,
"I don't know
what has just happened"
and her words continued
to fall into a jumbled,
confused mess.

His words were simply this ....
"Nicodemus.
You remind me
of Nicodemus."
She knew nothing
of this Nicodemus
and was too embarrassed
to ask.

He then picked up a book
and read to her
from the Gospel of John.
The words were
of someone who encountered
this man named Jesus,
in the dark,
alone,
seeking answers
to questions,
yet not understanding.

Her heart beat faster,
for she recognized
this encounter
and this man
named Nicodemus
for this was her encounter
as well.

Her heart beat faster still,
as she heard that
God loved her before ...
before she asked for this Love,
before she admitted to
needing this Love,
before she sought to
understand such a Love,
before she realized that she
wanted this Giving Love.

She knew nothing
of Nicodemus then,
but claims
this encounter now,
for she remembers
the darkness
of a sanctuary
and the Light
that walked in,
so uninvited,
so unannounced
and from her questions
he said to her,
"For God so loves you...."

"Take A Deep Breath"

(Preparing for Ash Wednesday)

Take a deep breath and know that the air we soon will be asked to breathe will be different. Look in the mirror and see a face that is a canvas on which an ashen cross might be drawn. Pause for a moment and remember that we will once again be fitted with new sandals for our forty-day Lenten journey. Yes, let us take a deep breath for we are preparing for the "ifs" and "thens" that will surely be placed before us in these forty days.

There is the smell of ashes awaiting us in dimly lit sanctuaries. Last year’s shouts of hosannas and the sense of excitement that we had as we waved the palms have been reduced to a bowlful of charred remains. Oh, to once again find "hosannas" on our lips and to be filled with a hope that always seeks the Messiah. But a year’s worth of days takes a toll on us, doesn’t it? Our "hosannas" have often been silenced and we lower our heads knowing (but hating to admit) that we have succumbed to the "ifs" and "thens" of the tempter in the wilderness. "Ifs" and "thens" are tempting, sparkling words for sure.

So, let us take a deep breath and prepare to face the "ifs" and "thens" that have made a home in our hearts. Our Lenten journey begins on Ash Wednesday as we carry with us into our sanctuaries all of those "ifs" and "thens". Do I really want to see what I will bring into the sanctuary with me? What an accumulation. Thoughts and attitudes, apathy and omission, all of those temptations that I fell for that eventually came between me and God. What benign words I have used. I don’t really like the word "sin" but it is what it is.

Yes, let’s take a very deep breath. There is a silence in our first moments of Lent that draws us into a time of aloneness. Even in the midst of the others who have entered through the sanctuary doors with us, we will find ourselves alarmingly alone. And then, the silence is broken by the admission of our hearts. "Here I am and this is what has become a burden to me. Here is what I have allowed into my life that clouds your face, O God. I am needy. I am sorrowful. I am incomplete without you completely in my life." For just a moment, all we hear is our own breath and the whispers of our own hearts. My head feels so heavy, bowed as it is. Why is it so difficult to raise.

What will it take for our heads to be lifted once again? Suddenly we are reminded. It is the fire of God’s tremendous love for us, the fire of forgiveness and the fire of God’s saving grace that has provided the ashes for this day of repentance. These promises raise our heads and bring us to our feet. They move us down the aisles. They make us deeply yearn to be marked as God’s own children – beloved and forgiven.

Perhaps it is at this one moment when we gasp instead of merely taking a breath. This very moment is when a pastor cares enough to whisper, "Raise your head and look into my eyes. This is who you are. This is who God is." The sensation of the drawing of an ashen cross lingers long enough for us to be still for a while and then move toward a mirror to see our reflection. Take a deep breath. The reflection is both startling and beckoning. You see, there is a little corner of wilderness reserved for each one of us. The same Spirit who led Jesus into the wilderness will lead us into these forty days of Lent. The same tempter will entice us with "ifs" and "thens". Take a deep breath and prepare for it all. Wilderness air is different. It is the most costly air of all for it is in these upcoming forty days when we will begin to breathe in, once more, what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ in all of its costliness. So, take a deep breath, pray, listen and be steadfast in God’s promises.

(Prayer)
God of our redemption and wilderness journey … Help us to breathe in your Spirit and steadfastness in amounts never before received. We face such enticements by the one who loves to whisper "Ifs" and "thens" into our hearts in very familiar ways. Help us to breathe in the wilderness air and plant our feet firmly in your promises with a recreated heart and a steadfast spirit. We pray for strength and your Presence in our lives for we know that our own days in the wilderness will soon send us resolutely to Jerusalem with Jesus … and that will be much different air to breathe. Amen.

"Shhh ... Listen!"

(ponderings on Matthew 17:1-9 The Transfiguration)

C.S. Lewis, in “Letters to Malcolm Chiefly on Prayer” writes, “We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God.  The world is crowded with God.  God walks everywhere incognito.  And the incognito is not always hard to penetrate.  The real labor is to remember, to attend.  In fact, to come awake.  Still more, to remain awake.”

God is with us, incognito, as Lewis writes.  But oh, when the veil is lifted and a portion of the glory of God’s presence is revealed to some … what happens then?  There is no mistaking that something extraordinary has happened and there is indeed an awakening.

Some call this moment of revelation a "Thin Place". I have a dear friend who calls such a time a "Heaven-Touching-Earth moment." For me, I refer to this as a "God-Moment". There are no words to adequately give name to the moment when the Divine Veil has been lifted in a person’s presence. The radiance, the glory, God’s presence and our deep desire to put an experience such as this into immediate words all cause some stammering on our part.   There is even confusion as to what has taken place.  It is then when a holy finger presses against our lips and we hear, "Shhhh … This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" And so, the Divine Veil is lifted if only for a moment. The Holy is so radiant that we could easily be blinded yet, in such a Heaven-Touching-Earth  moment, there is tremendous love. "Shhhh … Listen!  Listen to him first before finding your own words."

What words does one choose to describe such a holy moment as this? As I read the Scriptures, I wonder such things. If I had been one of the chosen disciples, how long would I have kept silent? What words would have finally fallen into place to bear witness to something so holy as the Glory of God radiating from the face of Jesus, enveloping his whole being? Are there words to describe the intensity of brilliance that had to be tempered by clouds? And what about hearing the voice of God? After my trembling had stopped, after brushing myself off, after stumbling down the mountain and back into my surroundings, what words would form on my lips? What words would you have shared?

For those who have recognized a time when the Most Holy has chosen such a moment of revelation, there seems to be a quietness about the experience for a period of time.  Something so amazing, so intimate, so private is beyond our words. But there must be a reason for such a ‘mountaintop’ experience. There must be a reason to find oneself in the presence of God Almighty, knocked face down by such Holiness. Perhaps it is so that our hearts might hear "This is my Son, whom I love, with whom I am well pleased. SHHH … LISTEN TO HIM!" It is the voice of the Most Holy that beckons us to believe in and listen to Jesus in a renewed way.

Soon we will begin our Lenten journey.  Perhaps our prayers might be that God awakens us in the journey and reveals a portion of this Glory to us that brings us to our knees in wonderment.  Do we have the courage for such a prayer?  This moment between God’s revelation and our words is a good beginning to our Lenten journey for it does take courage when we find ourselves resolutely setting our sights on Jerusalem with Jesus. It takes courage to stand at the foot of the cross. And, yes, we will need to remember the words, “This is my Son” as we peer into the empty tomb.  All along the way, we will find ourselves in the presence of the Most Holy.  Shhh… Listen! This IS God’s Son, the Beloved, the Chosen.

Transforming and Holy God … The glory of your presence is much too brilliant for our stammering words to make sense in telling others. We find ourselves face down in awe and yet these moments truly do become our faith story. With great love, you have whispered "Shhh… Listen." With tremendous love, Jesus lifts us up and veils your holy radiance once more so that we might keep our eyes upon him. And with unimaginable love, your Son walks to the cross. O God, awaken us.  Help us see your presence with a brilliance that is unmistakable. Be with us in our silence as we soon prepare to step out on our Lenten journey. Form our sentences in your most perfect of timing, sending us out to tell what we have seen as truth. Give us blessed eyes to see your Holy Presence around us and a renewed understanding of what you would have us tell others. Amen.

"Perfect Provision"

Too often,
I look to the heavens
for the decade's
greatest snowstorm
of blessings ...
and pray
for an accumulation
in amounts that
are astounding.

Oh God,
thank you for my friend
who said,
"Look down
at the blessings
that have softly fallen
like manna
all around us....
fallen silently
like a dusting of snow,
to be gathered in amounts
of Perfect Provision
for this one day.

Amen.

"The Reminder"

(Matthew 5:13)

"You are the salt of the earth,"
 he said.
 What curious words ...
what can he mean?

 And then I remembered
 the teachings of my grandmother.
 "Anna, always say
 'Yes ma'am' and 'No sir.'
 Say 'I enjoyed my supper;
 may I be excused?'
Say 'Please pass the salt.' "

 And now I understand
 the curious words.
 He is reminding me to
"Please pass the salt!"