View from the Pew

"Here I Am, Such as I Am"

2012-02-22T12:55:00.000-05:00

(Ash Wednesday)

Here I am, such as I am ...
Imperfect.
Weak.
Broken.
In need of forgiveness.
In need of your Presence.

Here I am, such as I am ...
Confessing.
Repentant.
Hopeful.
Listening.

Here I am, such as I am ...
Willing to be melted
and molded.
Wanting a newly created
pure heart.

Here I am, such as I am ...
Branded with a mark...
your unmistakable mark.

Lead me, O God,
walk with me
in these 40 days....
walk with me always.

Amen.

"This is our Tomorrow"

2012-02-22T12:50:00.000-05:00

(Thoughts on the day before Ash Wednesday)

Neglected,
it rests on the corner,
visible to all,
yet ignored by most …
for it has been empty
far too long.

This morning,
this day before
Ash Wednesday,
the front of the building
has been painted
a brilliant white
and the windows
on each side
of the entrance door
are now adorned
with new, royal blue awnings.

Yet the “For Sale” sign
is still posted,
weather-worn
from the years
of begging
and pleading
for someone to look…
just look and consider
the property’s value.

If one dares
to look closer,
beyond the brilliant white paint
and the royal blue awnings,
the other sides
of the building can be seen.

Three other sides
are a dingy beige
with peeling paint
and windows have been broken
by those who think nothing
of doing damage
to something that is not theirs.

The flat roof
can no longer withstand
the weight of
years of debris
or torrential rains
that only accumulate
and puddle
in its flatness.

The property is
overgrown with weeds
and littered by those things
that others have so carelessly
and thoughtlessly
thrown its way.

What are we to think
of an appealing façade
of fresh paint
and new awnings?
What are we to think
of neglect
and damage …
of brokenness
and litter …
of weeds
and debris
and puddles?

Perhaps this is exactly
what we will bring with us
tomorrow …
on this day we call
Ash Wednesday.
We bring with us
freshly painted facades
and new awnings,
hoping beyond hope
that those around us
will not see the
neglect and damage,
the brokenness and litter,
the weeds and shattered hearts.

The black soot
marks the façade
with a cross …
and the ash
falls onto the awning.
The difficult admission
that there are
other sides to be seen
are whispered in prayer
and are heard by the One
who has clearly seen
all four sides
of each of us.

This is our tomorrow.

Holy God,
we come to you
in need of repair …
not in part,
but throughout
our whole being.

Create in us
a newness in our days,
a wholeness and healing through you,
a purpose in your kingdom,
hope in your love
and a pure heart before you.

Amen.

2011-12-03T09:18:00.000-05:00

God-of-Our-Advent-Waiting ...
What a time this is for our pastors. Be with each of them as they walk through these days of Advent with those whom you have placed into their care. Give them strength to help others wait for, long for and anticipate the peace, hope, joy and love that only the arrival of Jesus into each heart and into our world can bring. Place within these pastors a sweet longing and anticipation in their own Advent waiting. Open the hearts of all so that they might hear your promises spoken through the words of your prophets of old and your servants now. Open the eyes of all souls so that they might see the Light in the darkness that grows ever-stronger as the days draw nearer to your Promise-On-Earth.

Forgive us all if we find it easier to passively await the coming of your Son. In the waiting, may your disciples lead others to place the longings of their hearts before you in prayer; may they help others prepare a place for Jesus to be born anew and may they pray that they also will make ready for such an arrival.

My childhood memories beg me to pray for something else for your servants. During the coming days, place within each of them the excitement of a child; the excitement that causes eyes to sparkle and songs to be hummed in the middle of their busiest of days; the excitement that fills each one of them with hope in your Gift to come; the excitement that brings with it a portion of sleepless anticipation.

These are your servants for sure. You have placed a call within them to love others and to share your great Love in ways that are, at times, much different than our own ways and for that I am most thankful. Love them as they love others, O God. Lead them as they lead others. AMEN.

Hint of the Holy

2011-10-22T13:57:00.000-04:00

I found myself outside on the balcony at the beach at 6:30am yesterday morning to watch it all unfold. The whole process lasted almost an hour, from the first faint promise of light to the glorious sunrise. There was a lone man walking in the opposite direction from the sunrise. I wanted to scream from my balcony, "TURN AROUND ... DON'T MISS THIS!" I didn't ... and he missed it.

I shared this with someone and he said, "This perspective, this sunrise, is meant for you only. It is a gift for you."

I thought that sunrises are all the same, certainly equally spectacular, perfectly timed as only God can do. But this morning, unlike yesterday

morning, those few who were walking on the beach in the cold morning air stopped and turned to watch it unfold. A small boat moving in the opposite direction turned toward the sunrise as well. And then, instead of the sunrise that I saw yesterday, there were hints of brilliance outlining the clouds and peaking through the clouds. This is surely what God does every single day, isn't it? Peaking through and into our lives, hinting at the brilliance of Holy Presence. How beautiful a thought that this happens every day, at some point in our day and in some way in our lives. So, this morning, I'm sharing the 'hint of the Holy' as a reminder to stop and turn, to look around, to see God's Presence in the most unexpected moments of our lives.

Perhaps my friend's words were right on target. How can we tell another person to stop, turn, look around, seek and receive if we first haven't received the gift of the hint of the Holy ... if we first haven't done the very same thing?

"Through the Eyes of Faith"

2011-10-08T10:57:00.001-04:00

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.(Hebrews 11:1)

(The words of Helen Keller)
I, who cannot see, find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine.... I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me.

Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song.... At times my heart cries out with longing to see these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight.

Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted.... It is a great pity that, in the world of light, the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.

(Now words from me)

It is the promise of Fall that the foliage will change from greens to golds and reds and oranges. I have heard that the colors are beautiful in the higher elevations of North Carolina, but on my hour's drive yesterday heading in the direction of the mountains, I saw only greens. Yet, I know that there is such breath-taking beauty there even without seeing it ... and I know that soon the greens in my world will change to golds and reds and oranges as well. I know this to be true because the Creator of all promises this to me each and every Fall season.

"See" with everything that is within you, friends ... even (and especially) through the eyes of faith!

Blessings ... anna

"Just When ... "

2011-08-27T17:38:00.001-04:00

(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 ...
just 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.”

"In Remembrance of Crumbs"

2011-08-13T22:56:00.001-04:00

(Please read Matthew 15:21-28)

“In remembrance”,
the young minister said
as he pointed to a prepared table.
Whispers could be heard.
“Christ’s body … Christ’s blood”.
Over and over again -
“Christ’s body … Christ’s blood”.
The words ended only
when all had been fed.

The crumbs of the ripped-apart loaves
had fallen at his feet.
When all had been served,
the minister,
a guest in the church,
bent down to pick up one crumb.
“Tidy”, I thought.
“He is so tidy.”

The service soon ended.
While all others were shaking hands
and discussing where to meet
for Sunday lunch,
the minister,
this guest in our ‘house’,
fell to his hands and knees
and began to pick up crumbs.
One at a time ... crumb after crumb …
finally brushing them
with one hand
into a small pile of crumbs.

I whispered to him,
"You shouldn’t do that.
I will clean the crumbs
from the carpet.”
He looked at me,
still on his hands and knees,
and said …
“I have been made worthy
to receive these crumbs.
I do this in remembrance.”

And then with a smile, he whispered,
“Would you care to join me?”
And so, that morning
I found myself on my knees,
picking up crumbs,
brushing them into a small pile.
This, too, I did ‘in remembrance’
of the day that Grace filled me,
(yes, even me)
with a holy nourishment.

"Let anyone with ears, listen ... "

2011-07-04T13:22:00.002-04:00

(Please read Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23)

Listen!

God-whispers are flying through the air

as if seeds carried in the beaks

of birds ...

ready to be dropped
wherever they might be dropped.

God-Love is bouncing all around
as if millions of tiny steel pellets
have been loosed from barrels
of confinement ...
rolling and bouncing haphazardly
into the most unlikely of places.

God-Hope is being flung into the air
like seeds from a careless sower
without concern for waste ...
with no plowed ground
or fertilized field in sight.

Listen!

The Sower has plunged a hand
into a sack of promise again ...
throwing seed everywhere.
Can't you hear it?
They bounce off of the rocks
and sink deep into the wet sand.
They are buried in the crevices
of dry, cracked earth
and some find home
in warm, rich soil.

The Sower slings the seed
without regard to soils
or rocks or thorns or drought.
The words "too lavish, how wasteful"
are whispered by naysayers
and those who want
perfectly-prepared soil
before joining in
with the seed-sowing.

The Sower sighs and bends down
to admire the delicate violet
growing from a crack in the cement.
The hand reaches into the sack of
seed and brings out so much
that the hopes and promises spill
and puddle onto the ground.

"Listen", the Sower says.
"Let anyone with ears, listen ...
Be lavish and extravagant
and even what seems a bit
wasteful to some"
(as more seed is hurled into the air).

This Sower walks away,
his path marked by a trail of seeds,
by orchards of fruit-bearing trees
and by violets growing
from cracks in cement.

Let anyone with ears, listen ….

An Ascension Prayer from an Earthly View

2011-06-05T07:25:00.001-04:00

(Acts 1:1-11 and Luke 24:44-53)

Gracious and Loving God …

I don’t know how to look at Jesus’ ascension
in the same way as the Twelve.
I really don’t.

You see, we haven’t seen with the same eyes.
We don’t wear the same sandals
(my walking shoes are actually sneakers)
nor do we have the same dust on our clothes.
I haven’t eaten with Jesus. I haven't laughed alongside him.
I haven’t looked into Jesus’ eyes or wept with him.
I haven’t walked with Jesus in quite the same way,
questioned as they did, feared with the depths of their fears
or stared at his hands as they must have stared at them.

I don’t know how to look at Jesus’ ascension
in the same way as the Twelve,
with the same history or intimacy,
with earthly eyes at such a holy glimpse.
I really don’t.

But what I do know is that I long for something.
There are times when I sit in the dark coolness
of the evening and look heavenward,
hoping for a glimpse of holiness.
There are other times when I look into the eyes
of everyone I pass on the street,
hoping to see you … longing to see you in the
faces of others. Have you come back to us?
Have I looked into your face?
Have I held the very hand that the Twelve
once saw and touched?

Yes, the longing is there, so strong ….
to stand before you in awe,
to walk with you and listen,
to be filled with your Spirit and be surprised,
to be sent out as a most unlikely disciple.

Is that why you ask us to gather in one place?
Are you telling me that others have the same longings?
I am bound by earthly thinking
so perhaps I will never understand Jesus’ ascension completely.
What I am beginning to understand is that I am not
so different than one of the Twelve.
I just wear different sandals and have accumulated
different dust in my journey.

Oh God, give me holy glimpses but do remind me
to stop gawking. Give me a longing that has movement to it,
words to share with the longing, and eyes to see you in every place.

Amen.

"In the presence of my enemies ..."

2011-05-14T17:05:00.000-04:00

(Please read Psalm 23)

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

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
in such a generous way.

The table was not mine,
the guest list certainly wasn't mine
and 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."

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.

"Good Friday (again)"

2011-04-22T10:16:00.001-04:00

It was now about the sixth hour, and darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." When he had said this, he breathed his last. (Luke 23:44-46)

My childhood memories are of Mom always telling me to watch the skies. "The clouds will move in today and the sky will grow dark." So, I would always watch and wait. To this day, I do this ... I watch and wait, now knowing that I must watch and wait at the foot of the cross that bears my Lord. I must look at the cross when I most want to look away.

Today, it is grey and rainy. The clouds have moved in. The sky is dark.

It is Good Friday (again).

Prayers for each of you as you stand at the foot of the cross this day... as you gather with others who are watching and waiting ... as you then go your separate ways.

Standing with you in the darkness of this day,
anna

"This is the Day ... "

2011-04-12T13:18:00.001-04:00

(Please read Psalm 118:1-2,19-29 and Psalm 31:9-16)

So, here we are …. just days before Palm Sunday ... just days before we wave our palms branches and shout our own Hosannas. And just days before joy and celebration turn into a journey that none of us would ever want to make.

But, in a way, we do make this journey. No matter who we are, what our age or what status we hold in the community, in our jobs, in our schools or within our families, we do find ourselves moving from joyous celebration, as found in Psalm 118, to the very personal cries of anguish, heartache and sadness as found in our Psalm 31 reading tonight. As we eavesdrop on Jesus in Gethsemane and as we stand at the foot of the cross and hear his cries, we realize that the One who called out to his Father, recognizes our own pain and loves us through it.

I want to place a thought before you to consider. Just as the music of my own praise and thanksgiving sounds to God, in whatever form it takes, so it is with yours. And it is the same with our cries. Anguish is anguish. Pain is pain. Sadness is sadness and fear is fear. There is no scale that weighs whose is greater than the other. A child’s fearful cries to our LORD are heard with equal attention as mine or yours. Our lives write our own Psalms and none is greater or lesser than the other when heard by God. To say that they are is to discount another person’s silent, private cries and pain and heartache.

For this reason, I have chosen to speak of a child… but he could you or me. He is forgotten. He seems very much to be a broken vessel. He most certainly hears the whispers of many around him. As he is to me, he is to others … and that is nameless. But he is very real, for I often see him standing along the side of the road as I go to work. In this young boy, I have seen the anguish of Psalm 31. I can almost see Jesus wrapping his arms around this child in Gethsemane, assuring him that he understands. And I know, for sure, that this young boy must know what it’s like to stand along the road to Jerusalem with a great hope in his heart that he will be noticed by a man on a lumbering donkey.

So, let me share this broken vessel of a child with you. On my morning drives to work, I see children standing by the side of the roads, waiting for school buses. There is a particular section of my route that has two school bus stops extremely close to each other. At one stop, I see a group of really cool-looking kids, laughing and talking with one another and texting to other kids. But at the other bus stop there is one child, away from the other children, looking pitiful and sad.

This young boy might be 12 years old. I first noticed him because he stood so far apart from the other children. His back was to the street. His book bag wasn’t old, but it certainly wasn’t “cool” like the other kids’ book bags. In fact, it reminded me of the one I had as a child … an olive green canvas one that surely was bought at the local Army/Navy store. His head was down and he was kicking the dirt. I couldn’t see his face. But for some reason, I waved. I don’t know why. After all, his back was to the street. I felt as if I was seeing the words of Psalm 31 where it says, “I have passed out of mind like one who is dead”, In other words, forgotten. I sensed that he was a forgotten child among many unforgettable “cool” children of his school.

The next day, this young boy faced my way. Even from my moving car, I could see that he was in great need of braces on his teeth. His arms and legs were alarmingly skinny. His glasses reminded me of military-issue glasses. His hair was sticking out in all directions … and certainly not on purpose. For a young boy, his clothes were definitely not “cool”. Again, I waved as I drove by. He didn’t wave back, but I noticed, as I glanced in my rear view mirror, that he turned and looked my way. The next day, I waved again and once more, he turned and looked my way as I passed by. The fourth day, he threw up his hand when I waved. And the following day, he stood on the edge of the curb and he seemed as if he was looking for my car. HE was the first one to wave on that morning. I found myself praying for him. “O God, please, please tell me that his days at school are much better than I think they are. Tell me that he has a group of friends who like him, who laugh with him and encourage him. Please make his days good ones. Please let him know that he is your beloved child.”

As I think ahead to Holy Week, as we pick up our palm branches and journey into Jerusalem with Jesus, I see a child like this young boy, standing by the side of the dusty road that leads into the city - maybe not standing with us but away from us. Perhaps he is the one standing far apart from the throngs of people who have gathered – finding himself at the very end of this “triumphal entry” route. He is the one who has a very personal hope in this man named Jesus. While others are shouting “Hosannas” and speculating on “who” Jesus is, while others are hoping for a conquering hero, this child dares to say, with a great hope, even in his sadness, “O give thanks to the LORD for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever!.” He stands by himself and whispers in his joy and hope, “You are my God”… and likewise in his fears and anguish, “You are my God. I trust in you to help me through my days.”

THIS is the day that the LORD has made …

I picture my young friend as the one whose palm branch might be bent and broken and who, because of life’s circumstances, doesn’t have much energy to wave the branch. He has no spare garments to place in the donkey’s path. But this child is there … one of the very least among the celebrants. He has moved to the very edge of the road, looking for this man riding on a slow-moving donkey, hoping that when Jesus passes by, he might glance his way. He barely whispers, “Oh, please look my way. Please wave at me. Please tell me I am not as forgotten as I feel that I am. Please give me hope.”

And this man on the donkey, the One whose entry into Jerusalem has caused so much commotion and so many questions, looks at this lone child at the end of the road. He waves, smiles and mouths out the words, “BELOVED CHILD”. The young boy no long feels invisible or forgotten. “He looked at me,” he whispered. “He looked my way and waved.” The young boy waves the bent and broken palm branch. Alone, he runs ahead and places the branch in front of the donkey’s path. For the first time in his life, he feels “cool” for he has been told that he is indeed beloved.

THIS is the day that the LORD has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.

My young friend is a very real person. I can attest to that. But he is also you and me. One day rejoicing and filled with joy and praise to the LORD. The next day, crying out in our fears, sadnesses and heartaches. We are all broken vessels and out of the broken places, God’s Love will flow. That is reason enough for praise and thanksgiving. We are beloved children of God and that also is reason enough for praise and thanksgiving. In both our joys and in our heartaches, we can say, “You are my God. I trust in you” and time and time again, we find that God is completely trustworthy and steadfast in his love for us.

In one way, we have all made this Lenten journey somewhat alone, haven’t we? We have stood apart from the “cool” people of this world and hopefully drawn closer to God. But now all of our paths intermingle. Now we are called to pick up our palm branches and come together on Sunday, waving them and shouting our Hosannas. And we will be asked by the One who has resolutely set his sights on the cross for you and for me, “Who do you say that I am?” Is he the chief cornerstone of our church? Is he the Messiah, the Lord and Savior in and of our lives?

THIS is the day that the LORD has made …

Next week, we will find ourselves walking through Holy Week. The following Thursday night is Holy Thursday. It is Jesus who prepared the table for his disciples then and he prepares the table for us now. He is the host. It is good and right that we come together for that evening.

For THIS is the day the LORD has made …

On Good Friday, we find it quite needed for us to come together once more … to stand in the shadows of the cross. To hear both the whispers and the cries of Jesus. It is overwhelming for sure to be reminded, even in Jesus’ anguished cries, of this unfathomable love that flows from the cross for each of us. And on this day, on Good Friday, we find ourselves saying, “When, O God, will you lead us from our Psalm 31 anguished cries to our Psalm 118 joys and Hallelujahs?”

We will gather together at the Easter Vigil, in the cool night air of our hopes and Easter morning we will hear a resounding echo from an empty tomb for ALL the world to hear - for all who stand along the sides of our roads and wait ….

THIS IS THE DAY THAT THE LORD HAS MADE, LET US REJOICE AND BE GLAD IN IT.

Psalm 118 brings us together with joy and celebration, with shouts of praise. It places palm branches in our hands and compels us to walk to the temple steps and lay them there. It places the words, “You are my God” on our lips. Psalm 31 finds us alone, in anguish and pain and in a voice that is barely recognizable as our own, and in the very same trust as found in Psalm 118, we whisper, "You are my God."

This very God who is both the recipient of our shouts of praise and the One who shoulders our heartache and pain says, “You there … standing along the side of the road … and you, with your head down and kicking the dirt …. and you, with the bent and broken palm branch … YOU are my beloved children.”

As we walk together into Holy Week and out into our world to assure the forgotten, the hungry, and those who find themselves alone that they too are God’s beloved children, we all say once more (and let’s say it together), THIS IS THE DAY THAT THE LORD HAS MADE, LET US REJOICE AND BE GLAD IN IT.

Amen.

"Did You See ....?"

2011-04-09T14:25:00.003-04:00

(Please read John 11:1-44)
Ahhh, as I read this, I want to run from person to person and ask "Did you see.....?" I want to find an on-looker who might sit down and share with me what had happened. Every detail. But there were no witnesses when I was beckoned. I was alone with the One who weeps ... and shouts out ... and beckons .. and rejoices.

Did you see him weep?
Were there tears?
Could the sobs be heard
even though they came
from a place so deep within?

Did you hear his shouts?
Was his voice commanding?
Did it shake eternity?

Did you hear the name?
I did. I know that I did.
Clearly and distinctly.

"ARISE and LIVE!
REMOVE YOUR GRAVE CLOTHES!
LET GO!"

Did you see the moment
when I left the darkness
and walked into the light?
Did you see me
look into his
tear-stained face?

Did you see him weep?
Did you hear him call me?
Tell me, did you?
Did you see my joy?

Did you see me weep
at the thoughts of
such a beckoned life?

(c) 2011 anna murdock

"Ash Removal"

2011-03-09T06:01:00.000-05:00

She asked a very legitimate question yesterday. After all, my friend has never attended an Ash Wednesday service. She has never had ashes placed on her forehead. She has never truly journeyed through Lent other than to give up chocolates for a period of time ... "just because."

"Anna", she said ... "What is the proper etiquette for the removal of the ashes from my forehead? Am I to wipe the cross off during the service? On the way home? Before I go to bed? Do I sleep with the ashes on my forehead? I just don't know what I am to do."

I assured her that it was a very good question. I suggested that she remember the actual touch, the very action of the ashes being placed on her forehead. "This, my friend, is the moment of reminder of who we are ... a person who has become very 'sooty', a person in need of forgiveness and renewal, a person who is truly a beloved child of God." I told her of what is important to me and that is to look into the mirror at this mark of terrible beauty and be reminded that this is the brand I choose to wear forever ... each day ... in some way. "You will wash it off when you are ready, and yet, you will wear it forever."

Tonight, the ashes will be placed on my forehead as they have so many times before. Tonight a friend will experience this for the first time. But for each of us, there is great news in the midst of the hymns-in-a-minor-key, the dimness of lights, the whispers and prayers and ashes and quietness. We are beloved children of God, branded forever by this mark of terrible beauty.

"Never-Ending"

2011-03-05T11:08:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning,
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, five …
then his left hand -
one, two, three, four, five …
then back to his right hand -
one, two, three, four, five.

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 mumble to themselves
as they walk 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.

(c)2011 anna murdock

"The Reminder"

2011-02-05T09:53:00.000-05:00

(Please read 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!"

(c) 2011 anna murdock

"Perfect Provision"

2011-02-03T07:00:00.000-05:00

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.

(c)2011 anna murdock

"Blessed is she ..."

2011-01-30T09:58:00.000-05:00

(Please read Matthew 5:1-12 "The Beatitudes")

Ahhhh, the Sermon on the Mount. So many of us picture Jesus standing on the mountain, shouting down to the crowds of people who had begun to follow him from town to town. As I read the Scriptures, I’m sensing something different than what I had once envisioned. Could this be an intimate moment of teaching between Jesus and his disciples on the mountainside, with the crowds of people not yet hearing these words of hope? Could Jesus be telling his disciples of this kingdom-on-earth-and-in-heaven thinking that was being ushered into the world, even as they walked among the meek, the mourning, the peacemakers, the poor in spirit, those who hungered for righteousness as deeply as any starving person would hunger for a morsel of food? Jesus might have pointed to the crowds and whispered to his disciples, "Look into their eyes. These are the eyes of the blesseds.”

This week, as so many of us read the Scriptures that we have grown to know as The Beatitudes, as we read of Jesus teaching the disciples of this upside-down thinking (or is it a rightside-up thinking?) I overheard, "Blessed is she, for she has witnessed the holy.”

Allow me to share with you this holy moment that I witnessed on Tuesday …
The man's hair was grey and straggly. His shoulders looked as if they were carrying the weight of the world on them. Perhaps they were bearing the weight of HIS own world. He had tried to walk across the busy road with a garbage bag filled with crushed soda and beer cans. He didn't make it. His bag broke and out spilled his treasure of crushed cans. The traffic was rush-hour, going-home traffic. He stood on the curb, out of danger and watched car after car drive over the cans and around the cans. And then it happened. A car stopped. Emergency lights were turned on. A man in a dark suit stepped out of the car, held his hands up to stop the traffic and together a man with the grey straggly hair and a man in a dark suit picked up cans.

I shared this moment with a friend and he quoted Matthew 25:35-36 with a minor addition: “… for I was hungry, and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty, and you gave me drink. I was a stranger, and you took me in. I was naked, and you clothed me. I was sick, and you visited me. I was in prison, and you came to me. I was broke and you picked up crushed soda and beer cans.”

Blessed is she who witnessed Jesus in a dark suit ... or was it Jesus with grey straggly hair? Blessed is she, either way! Blessed is she, for she has witnessed the holy.

anna

"The Heavens Exploded"

2010-12-24T10:08:00.000-05:00

(Please read Luke 2:8-14)

Too long ... it had been too long since the words of the prophets had been heard. It seemed too long since they had heard promises of a Messiah. Could anyone remember the last time word spread of angel visitants or God speaking to one of their own? The town of Bethlehem was filled not only with those who still longed for and looked for the promised Messiah but also with those whose hope had dwindled. Those who continued to look to the heavens and those who lowered their heads in weariness and near hopelessness both cried out, "How long, O God? How long must we wait?" The wait continued in their darkness. Their hope, no matter how great or small, peered through this darkness for the Promised Light. With a gulp of first-breath and the piercing of the night air with infant wails, God said, "The wait is over."

Just as with Mary, God sent greetings - one angel initially sent to the shepherds. God knew that what was about to happen would have "scared the shepherds to death" if they had not first heard "do not be afraid." For you see, God was about to part the heavens for a glimpse of God’s glory in a way that had never been witnessed. The heavens exploded and suddenly a great company of the heavenly host poured out in unbridled song. The angels knew “who” was in the manger. They knew that Jesus, the God Almighty Incarnate, had come from his throne in heaven to the wandering people below for the salvation of mankind. They knew that this was the Lord's plan from the beginning and God has now said, "It is time." How could they keep from singing?

Yes, the heavens exploded with all honor and praise and majesty given to God Almighty. The heavens exploded with the highest of glory to God sung by the angel choirs. The heavens exploded because the angels knew that this newborn was the promised Savior - the fulfillment of the ages. He is the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. They knew and they flooded the night sky with their joy and song. They sang the highest praises that they had ever sung because God's power and love, faithfulness and mercy and justice all reached God’s highest expression with the birth of an infant in a stable. They could do nothing other than sing in full voice and glorify God in the highest ways possible for they knew that this baby, the Infant Jesus, is the promised One … the looked-for, the long-for, and the prayed-for Messiah.

The heavens exploded that night - the glory of the Lord burst through in revelation and the Light of Jesus Christ pierced our own darkness forever. God comes into our world with God’s plan of salvation. Emmanuel. God-with-us. The angels could not contain themselves. Oh my, we should be no different! How can we keep from singing? How can we keep from glorifying God? How can we not live with a song on our hearts and words to share on our lips?

SING WITH EXULTATION!

anna

"... And you shall give him"

2010-12-18T11:35:00.000-05:00

(Please read Matthew 1:18-25)

He awoke from his dream
having heard words
that spilled into his life
and disrupted his plans.
Yet, in the midst
of this unsettling holy mystery
came the very settling words
“…and YOU shall give him
the name Jesus.”

The father of this
soon-to-be-born child
had given the one
who would be the infant's
earthly father
this joy, and right
and privilege
and responsibility,
“…and YOU shall give him
the name Jesus.

It was a first gift given
with a Great Love.
The gift tag read…
“From father
to father,
with love.
Yes, YOU shall give him
the name Jesus.”

The gift tag continued …
“There is a righteousness about you,
and tenderness and compassion.
There is strength in your humbleness,
and obedience that doesn’t hesitate.
There is hard, honest work in your days
and character in your life.
Yes, YOU shall give him
the name Jesus.”

A father lifted an infant
high to the heavens
and to the world
and declared,
with all authority,
“His name is Jesus.”

He then kissed the face
of his newborn son,
realizing
that in this gift of love,
from father to father,
this would truly become
his own journey of love.

anna

"The Face of Advent JOY"

2010-12-11T10:12:00.001-05:00

I was reading the Isaiah 35:1-10 and Luke 1:46b-55 lectionary Scriptures this morning and found that I so wanted to revisit someone in whose face I have seen Advent Joy. As I reread what I had written about this gentlemen, I realized that the reflection of his joy was the very same as Mary's. They both looked back to what they had heard and knew and understood to be forthcoming through the words of Isaiah. They looked in the present and saw the radical possibilities of bearing Jesus into this world of ours. And they both hummed and sang the most beautiful songs of praise in their hope of the foreverness of the Lord's reign. I have enjoyed picturing this gentleman and Mary, sitting across the table from each other, putting God's puzzle pieces into place ... and then both bursting into a duet of songs from their souls when the picture is revealed. I can hear Mary saying what this gentleman said to me ... "Isn't God grand!"

(Please read Isaiah 35:1-10 and Luke 1:46b-55)

On a December day in 2007, I found myself in Duke Chapel, beginning my own Advent time of waiting and worship with the Chapel choir’s offering of Handel’s MESSIAH. I could spend my morning sharing with you those glorious hours. The Chapel is breathtakingly beautiful. The voices raised in song and proclamation filled the sanctuary with God’s promises and victory. The orchestra lifted the words even higher. And yet, all of these proved to be secondary to my looking into the face of "Advent Joy".

As I sat in the sanctuary, an elderly, very distinguished gentleman sat beside of me. The first thing that I noticed was that he had a ready smile. Well before the music began, we began to talk of God and Jesus. We spoke of writing and poetry and of those God-placed friendships in our lives. And then, the face of Advent Joy began to appear on this man’s face in such a way that is almost beyond description. He opened his program and, with great joy, said, "May I show you the incredible mix of Scriptures in the MESSIAH?" This gentleman pointed to the combination of Old Testament and New Testament Scriptures, intermingled in such a way that God’s love, promises and intentions would radiate throughout the music. With a twinkle in his eye, he smiled and said, ‘Isn’t God grand!" The face of Advent Joy began to glow in a very special way.

The music began. His eyes were closed and a faint smile emerged, as if he knew something that perhaps I didn’t. Scriptures of joyous glad tidings were sung and his smile couldn’t have become any larger. He even chuckled at the words of Isaiah, knowing full well that they would come to pass. He cried tears of joy in those places where hope in the face of death was so beautifully sung. As we stood for the "Hallelujah" chorus, he looked to the heavens for a while and then bowed his head in prayer. And as the last chorus was sung, "Worthy is the Lamb", he sat with his hands folded in his lap, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The music stopped. He threw his arms around me and hugged me saying, "Wasn’t this marvelous? I have loved hearing God’s words in this music and I have enjoyed sharing God’s words with you." Then he disappeared into the crowd, but not before I noticed a countenance of praise on his face that was gentle and beautiful and radiant beyond description. I had looked into the face of Advent Joy.

How do you tell someone else about an encounter such as this? I search for words. And I search for those who might understand what I am about to say. I walked away from those hours in Duke Chapel not quite sure "who" I was sitting beside. I voiced this to a pastor and he reminded me of Hebrews 13:2. The man seemed angelic as if he had been afforded special holy glimpses. Perhaps that is what Advent Joy is about … being filled with the words of Isaiah as we wait for and pray that the Christ-child be born anew in us … being filled with the promises of God as we wait for the coming of Jesus once more … being filled with Jesus in such a way that our soul, too, magnifies the Lord as did Mary’s … and being willing to become a servant of our Lord, for God’s radical change in this world

Oh, that we too might have the face of Advent Joy, the heart of a lowly servant and the songs of praise of the both of them within us.

anna

"Today, I Sought Peace"

2010-11-27T14:35:00.000-05:00

(Thoughts for the first Sunday of Advent)
Please read Isaiah 2:1-5, Psalm 122, Romans 13:11-14 and Matthew 24-36-44

I sought Peace, this day before Advent begins. And so, with coffee in hand, I sat on the sofa … in the early hours … in the silence … with only small white lights on an otherwise bare tree to break into the darkness of the early morning hour. And it was good.

I sought Peace, this day before Advent begins. And so, I moved to another sofa, in front of the only nativity I’ve ever known; you know, the one that was bought when my older brother was born, 59 years ago. I remembered days of my childhood, standing on my tiptoes, in “footie”pajamas, with my hands on top of the cabinet, trying to pull myself up to see the wonder of this story of animals and a stable, of shepherds and sheep, of singing angels, of a young mother and a father kneeling with folded hands before a little baby, and of magi and gifts. I felt a bit of the wonder again. And it was good.

I sought Peace, this day before Advent begins. And so, I began to read the Scriptures. Words of Isaiah … words that say that we shall stream to the mountain of the LORD’s house. Isn’t that a glorious thought … “streaming” toward God? I heard the beckoning. “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” I heard words of promised peace. Swords into plowshares. Spears into pruning hooks. In the twinkling lights of the tree, in the darkness of my morning, I heard “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!” And it was good.

I sought Peace, this day before Advent begins. And yet, I heard “KEEP AWAKE! BE READY! YOU DO NOT KNOW WHEN THE LORD IS COMING!” Such yelling broke into the silence of my morning. Such questioning crept into the feel-good sights of twinkling lights and a nativity that is worn by the careful touch of little fingers and the toll of years. I read of a thief in the night and suddenly realized that Advent is not such a quiet, still or safe time. And it was good.

I sought Peace, this day before Advent begins. But I heard, “You MUST be ready” and I wondered how many times the Son of Man has come to me … in unexpected places … with a face of the unexpected … at a most unexpected time and in a most unexpected way. I have been brought to a place of unpeace this day before Advent, so that I might seek Peace anew. What is it that you want of us? To be heralds as well?

And it is good.

O LORD, do break into that place where our hearts are housed. Break in, O God, into the darkness, into our complacency, into those places where we are not ready and help us to become ready. Open our eyes and our hearts so that we might recognize Jesus in the unexpected. Teach us your ways so that we might walk in your paths, illuminated by your Light. Amen.

anna

"Kingdom Words - Kingdom Ways"

2010-11-20T10:19:00.003-05:00

Ponderings on the Reign of Christ the King

Sure, it's easier to some to avoid the words "Christ, The King" but when have we, as disciples and Christ-followers, found that the easiest routes are the ones to take! (or ?) My best advice for our "Christ the King" focus is to not allow this to be a case of not being able to see the forest for the trees. This is a king who leads by example, who kneels on a dirty floor and washes feet, who pours out hope and grace and mercy, intermingled in his blood. So, as Christ-followers, isn't it topsy-turvy and somewhat unbelievable that we too want to be a part of this kingdom? Perhaps this reflection is most important. Are we also active participants in this kingdom?

“KINGDOM WORDS - KINGDOM WAYS”
(Please read Luke 23:33-43)

Just hours earlier, it was pre-dawn and they stood, face to face. The
room was filled with the golden glow from lit oil lamps. The governor,
in a robe befitting of his position in life. The accused with a
bruised face, looking nothing like a king. And yet, Pilate asked, "Are
you the King of the Jews?" The answer echoed throughout the halls of
the headquarters and echoes to this very day. "My kingdom is not from
this world." Jesus said, "My kingdom." With that declaration, a piece
of wood was soon found and the words “This is the King of the Jews”
were carved into it.

Both this “King” and this inscription would soon be hanging from a
cross at the place that is called The Skull. To his left and to his
right were criminals, nailed to similar crosses, who surely heard the
words “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing”
coming from the lips of this “King”. Kingdom words. Intermingled
with the blood flowing from his cross were words of grace and mercy
flowing down as well. This is the proclamation of the kingdom? This
“King” died as he has lived, among sinners, among the questionable
ones, among the outcasts. In his dying words, he spoke as he had
always spoken - with words of hope and promise and words of grace and mercy. One criminal demanded that Jesus prove himself to be “King”. He scoffs at Jesus. The soldiers join in. All are sarcastically
demanding that Jesus put on his “kingly” robes and save himself. All
except for one, that is. The other criminal took to heart the words
spoken from this “King”. Forgiveness for his criminal ways at this
late hour? Is this possible? Did this “King” just give a thumb’s-up
instead of a thumb’s-down? This unbelievable, last-minute hope
brought the words “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” from the weakened voice of the criminal. From the like-wise weakened voice of the “King” came “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” Grace and mercy indeed!

Such a strange time to place these Scriptures before us, isn't it? Or
is it? Soon we will find ourselves in Advent waiting. We will once
again hear the words from the prophets of the promise of a Messiah, of
a Wonderful Counselor, of the Prince of Peace. In the weeks ahead, we
will look into a manger as we have done year after year and call this
baby the Newborn King. We will hear an angel proclaim that Good News has been born into this world. A Savior. Christ, the Lord. And yes,again the heavens will explode with "Glory Be to God" from the heavenly host, right on cue! But this day, before we step into a time of Advent waiting or look into the face of the Infant Jesus, we find ourselves standing at the foot of the cross and overhearing words of grace and mercy. We look into Jesus' face. We remember him telling us to look at his own birth in a different way. "My kingdom is not from here. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice." Kingdom words from the King whose birth we will soon celebrate.

Today, we too look into the face of Jesus the Christ as we prepare in
the coming weeks to look into the face of a newborn king. We can
understand the confusion as to this kingship. The King we worship wore the most unlikely of crowns. It was brow-piercing. His "royal" robe was placed around his shoulders with mocking allegiance and later gambled away. His scepter was a shepherd's staff. His royal chalice was filled to overflowing with forgiveness. Our King was lifted high by human hands, not on an elevated throne, but on a cross. Yes, this is Christ the King, the One who proclaims the kingdom of God to be on this earth. As he walked with his disciples then and as he walks with us now, we hear his kingdom words. "Love the Lord your God. Love your neighbor as yourself. Forgive them. My Peace I give to you. Follow me. Pray this way. Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Our King kneels at the feet of all, both leader and servant by example, with commands to go and do likewise. Kingdom words. This is a reign different from any other.

In a way, these kingdom thoughts are unsettling for it requires of us
to consider who Jesus is in our lives. Within both a democracy and
monarchy, the people hope for an easier way of life. Within this life
of a disciple and Christ-follower, we find that this kingdom goes
against any of the little kingdoms of ease of beliefs and responses
that we have built for ourselves. I choose to follow this King. I
want to follow his example … to be an instrument of justice and grace
and mercy. Yes, I choose to follow this King even though it would be
much easier not to … for with this choice, comes the picking up of my
cross, daily.

I keep on my bookshelf a framed quote from Mother Teresa which has
become both a daily prayer for me and a “kingdom creed”. It seems
right to share these words with you as our closing prayer. Christ the
King has surely turned the kingdom upside down!

Gracious God … hear our prayer,

When I am hungry, send me someone in need of food.
When I am thirsty, send me someone needing a drink.
When I am cold, send me someone to warm.
When I am grieved, offer me someone to console.
When my cross grows heavy, let me share another's cross too.
When I am poor, lead me to someone in need.
When I have no time, give me someone I can help a little while.
When I am humiliated, let me have someone to praise.
When I am disheartened, let me have someone to cheer.
When I need people's understanding, give me someone who needs mine.
When I need to be looked after, send me someone to care for.
When I think only of myself, draw my thoughts to another.

Amen.

anna

"A Child in the Sanctuary ... Again"

2010-11-14T19:41:00.000-05:00

(Please read Ephesians 4:11-16)

When I was a very young child (soooo long ago) there was always a “buzz” in the sanctuary of Broad Street UMC/Statesville, NC whenever our missionary to Hong Kong, the Rev. Lonnie Turnipseed, would come back to the States and worship with us. I would hear those around me whisper, “Lonnie Turnipseed is here!” Oh, I was too young to completely understand the work of a missionary, but I knew that it was God’s work. So, when he worshiped with us, I would search the sanctuary, hoping to catch a glimpse of “the missionary” ... the one who had created such a "buzz"!

Today, after the worship service was over and most of the people had left, I heard the words "Lonnie Turnipseed is here!" I felt very much like a child in the sanctuary again. I looked around, hoping to see this person of my childhood. I saw him! He spoke to me for a few minutes and tolerated me telling of my long-ago memories of his visits to our church.

It was then when I REALLY looked at this man and saw that there was no aura surrounding him or halo above him. I heard no angelic voices singing in the background. He was an ordinary man called to do God's work. I was looking into the face of Lonnie Turnipseed, but seeing also you and me ... ordinary people called to do God's work.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to hear a "buzz" in the sanctuary when it begins to fill for worship each Sunday? "Look, look around at all who are here. HE is called to do God's work! SHE is called to do God's work! Just look!"

Today, I was a child in the sanctuary again. I pray that next Sunday I will be as well, as I find myself in the midst of those who do God's work.

Gracious and Loving God … You know our names and call each of us. You delight in the “buzz” that is anywhere when we gather and when your work is being done. Oh, how often we feel like children though, looking toward others as the ones who have answered your call. Help each of us to grow up in your ways, in your love, in your calling and in your rejoicing in the “buzz”. Help us to not feel so small in your kingdom-work. Amen. (oh, and thank you for Lonnie Turnipseed from this child of yours named "anna"!)

anna

"Huddle Talk"

2010-11-08T10:19:00.001-05:00

(Please read Luke 6:20-31)

It seems right to refresh our memories this morning with the words of Jesus that have become known as “The Beatitudes” (or blessings). Surely, these Scriptures could be the makings for weeks of thoughts but that isn’t why they have been given to us as Scriptures for All Saints Day remembrances. Jesus is looking at his disciples, then and now, and telling us that walking in his footsteps will most certainly not be easy, but the rewards will be great. It’s as if Jesus has brought disciples into a huddle and spelled out the guidelines for the saints of all of the ages. Take heart, my friends! Saints aren’t constrained by wearing cumbersome ornate robes nor are they made obvious by a constant halo floating above their heads! Saints are fishermen and tax collectors and you and me! They are those who have lived, and continue to live their lives according to Jesus’ “huddle talk”. Jesus warns the saints-in-training as he offers the “blessed’s” and the “woe’s” to us. It will not be an easy way of life. That which society claims as blessed is far from it! That which seems so difficult has been raised up! As one friend shared with me, “Jesus, in the Beatitudes, is setting his disciples then and is setting us now, apart. Being set apart is never easy but it is the way of the “saints”.

There is a time in many of our churches when we pause and give thanks for those in our lives who have taken to heart Jesus’ call to discipleship and accepted the shifting in their own lives of what all society thinks is “blessed”. Although the day after Halloween is All Saints Day, many will reflect, as a part of our worship services, on those who have been “set apart” in the ways that Jesus shared with his disciples.

You and I are, in part, products of those very special people in our lives who have chosen not to make excuses when Jesus looked at them and said “be set apart”. This morning, let us be thankful for these examples to us and remember that those saints we have never met have affected our lives by the trickling down of God’s strength and love from one generation to the next.

I am thankful for those who have claimed Jesus’ words from the huddle as the road to discipleship, trusting in the blessings to come. I am so thankful for those who loved me enough to partner with God in order to help shape my heart. Also, I am thankful for those in YOUR life who did the same for you. Why? Because you are becoming increasingly important to me in my life. I see this same partnership in you. I see faith in you ... and Christ in you ... and I am a better person for this. Who knew that the people of faith in your life, those you hold dear as "saints", would affect my life through you? God knew. I am truly thankful that God has chosen to cross our paths.

Today, I "Sing a Song of the Saints of God" which includes so many who have taught us all the meaning of love and friendship, of faith and courage, and who have encouraged us all in the ways of Jesus Christ. As the song goes ".... and there's not any reason, no, not the least, why I shouldn't be one too."

Let us huddle together this day, listening once again to the words of Jesus, hearing the familiar Beatitudes as the often difficult way of disciples and saints and trusting that there will not only be a blessedness in our own lives but through our lives, others will be “set apart” as well.

Gracious and Loving God, give us hearts of the faithful and loving "saints" in our lives that we might be a reflection of your goodness to others as well. Give us strength as you set us apart and as we accept this often difficult way. There are those who can’t afford for us to make excuses for an easier way. In your promises and in your constant presence, both now and always, we do indeed rejoice and leap for joy! Amen.

anna

"So Much Has Changed ..."

2010-10-22T10:41:00.000-04:00

(A reflection written on Morning #1 from the balcony at the beach of my childhood. A view from the pew can be found anywhere ... even overlooking the ocean!)

I awakened this morning
at the beach of my childhood.
Awakened by a body clock
that is most difficult to reset
and a light that was left on.
For a while, I remained in bed
thinking, “so much has changed”.

Many small cottages of my memories,
with wonderful coastal names
and towels hanging off of railings
have fallen prey to
high-rise resorts
with matching parking decks
that block the view
of the ocean
from the road.
“Sigh… so much has changed.”

So much has changed ….
No, everything has changed.
Well, everything but me.
I haven’t! No, not me …
I haven’t changed.
I arise, at the beckoning
of my body clock
and coffee …
too early for anyone,
much less anyone at the beach.
I haven’t changed.
No, not me.

I have spent the last hour
in the dark, on the balcony,
that overlooks the ocean.
Just as I do each morning,
(changeless, that I am),
with coffee in hand
I seek quiet
and peace
and God.

The fishing trawlers of last night
have long since moved on.
Sleep has silenced the sounds
of children, dogs and of seagulls.
And then,
with the touch of sea breeze
on my face,
and the constant sounds of
waves rolling in, rolling in, rolling in
and the stars above, winking at me
in the same configuration
as I remembered from my childhood,
I realized that the Creator of all,
my God, has not changed.

It is me who has changed,
for in my childhood
I would have never have heard God
in the breaking waves of the ocean,
or felt God’s touch
in the kiss of sea breeze
on my cheek.
I would never have been assured
of God’s constant Presence
in the twinkling stars that
stretch out over the skies
above the ocean.

It IS me who has changed,
yet it is God who has been
with me always.
And with this realization
of change amidst that
which is Changeless …
at that very moment,
I saw a falling star.

So much has changed,
since my childhood …
not in the vastness of the ocean
or in the cool morning’s sea breeze …
not in the canopy of stars
or in the sounds of waves
or in the tide’s perfect schedule…
so much has changed,
not in the Creator of all
of what is so very constant here …

So much has changed
since my childhood memories
of this beach …
and that change isn’t so much
in the startling change of the surroundings,
but in the startling change in me.
Thanks be to God
who replaces the old
with the new …
who changes small cottage thoughts
with high-rise hopes,certainties and assurances.
“Sigh (as I smile) … so much HAS changed!

5:00 a.m.-ish
North Myrtle Beach, SC

"Wounded and Blessed"

2010-10-14T22:03:00.002-04:00

(Please read Genesis 32:22-31 Jacob Wrestling With God)

No gasping, please! No gasping at the thoughts of wrestling with God! I realize that some of you might not understand, on a personal level, these Scriptures. But for many others, this account of Jacob wrestling with God is very personal. There is a first-hand understanding of the clinging, wrestling perseverance of Jacob and a vivid remembrance of that “touch” of God when, in essence, God said, “Enough.” There is an overwhelming thankfulness in that holy touch that wounds a person to a point of change. In it all, there are blessings that only God can bestow.

But before there is an encounter or this wrestling type of perseverance, before there is the wounding touch of God that leads to God’s blessings, there is a time when we find ourselves face to face with God … alone. Often, the aloneness is so silent that for a while this “stranger” cannot be seen or heard in a person’s darkness. But God is there.

This aloneness, just before we recognize that we are in the presence of God, is a gift as difficult as it might prove to be. Jacob stands squarely in an empty camp. Behind him are lies, schemes, ambitions and a stolen birthright. Ahead of him are his family and all of his possessions that have become bribes for personal safety, forgiveness and reconciliation. There is nothing remaining for Jacob to control or manipulate. Nothing.

The “stranger” appears and suddenly a wrestling match begins. The One who can stop the wrestling before it begins often allows this struggle to go throughout the darkness of the night. God does not engage in this wrestling match as an overwhelming force, but as One who is powerful enough, tenacious enough, smart enough and big enough for us to realize that we have truly found ourselves wrestling with a persistent, loving and forgiving God. And so the wrestling turns to clinging. Even in our exhaustion, we don’t want to let go. Out of the depths, the cries come … “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” It is not what we cling to in life that blesses our lives, it is who we cling to that gives us a new name.

Jacob limped away a wounded, transformed and blessed man. Blessed are those who have received such a wound, for they have seen the face of God!

Most Gracious God … A friend once told me that you do indeed wound us at times and out of the wounded place, love begins to flow from us. Where there is a need for such wrestling and wounding, prepare each heart for perseverance. May we cling to you tenaciously, knowing that we will be wounded and yet trusting that we will be changed. Give us new names. O God, thank you for the assurance that you fill the wounds from your touch with the healing balm of your saving grace. Amen.

anna

"High Hopes"

2010-10-02T21:02:00.001-04:00

The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!" He replied, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you. (Luke 17:5-6)

When I was a child and found myself discouraged … when I seemed to lack something, feeling as if I didn't have enough of that "whatever" within me … when I thought a task before me was impossible, I would sing to myself a wonderful little song called “High Hopes”. Surely you know the song. The lyrics are by Sammy Cahn and Jimmy Van Heusen and it was made popular by Frank Sinatra. The first portion of this song goes like this:

Just what makes that little old ant
think he'll move that rubber tree plant.
Everyone knows an ant can't
move a rubber tree plant.

But he's got high hopes,
he's got high hopes,
he's got high apple pie, in the sky hopes.

So anytime your gett'n low
stead of lett'n go
just remember that ant.
Oops, there goes another rubber tree plant.

The Scriptures found in Luke 17:5-6 take me back to that time when a child named “anna” said, "But I can't. I am just a child. I don't have enough within me". What I didn’t know how to say at the time was, “Increase my faith!” The apostles heard of the impossible. A tiny bit of faith uproots the mulberry tree and flings it, roots-first, into the sea. The child sang of the impossible. A bit of ant-sized high hopes moves a rubber tree plant.

Do you suppose that Jesus told the apostles of the mustard seed of faith and the uprooting of the mulberry tree to the tune of "High Hopes"? For the child in me, this is a delightful thought!

God of children, of apostles and of ants, of mulberry trees and of rubber tree plants, of mustard-seed-sized faith and of high hopes …. It is you who does the improbable and the impossible with our small faith. We pray that you work through the amount of faith that we have now, but O God increase our faith. Uproot and replant us when we say, “Here I am, send me.” Uproot and replant others when they hear the words of faith that you have asked us to share. Our faith is that you are always faithful. Thank you for knowing of the possibilities found within tiny ants, small children and disciples who find high hopes in you. Amen.

anna

"Accusations"

2010-09-18T23:47:00.004-04:00

(Please read Luke 16:1-13)
Am I willing not only to be accused, but convicted of squanderings? This isn't a message of the story found in the parable of what is often called The Parable of the Shrewd Steward. It is everything that flowed in response to the parable.

He steps out from the crowds of this world,
the nameless one, with small offerings.
That which was given to him,
to keep his own stomach from growling
is placed into the hands of someone else …
for others.

And there are murmurs.
Frivolous!
Squanderings!
(Such accusations)

He reaches into the pocket of his heart
and draws out a handful of words.
They have been entrusted to him,
yet he lavishly scatters them
over the fields of those
who are debtors in need
of forgiveness.

And there are murmurs.
Frivolous!
Squanderings!
(Such accusations)

There is one who stands to
be without wages for a week.
And those whose hours have been cut
and salaries have been reduced,
ask, “May we give a portion of our pay
to this woman?”

And there are murmurs.
Frivolous!
Squanderings!
(Such accusations)

There is a man
who runs in a manner
that would bring dishonor
to any man of great position.
A father’s robe
covers a son in disgrace.
A ring is placed
on a hand dirtied
by life.

And there are shouts.
Frivilous!
Squanderings!
(Such accusations)

There is a steward
who, with a master’s ledger in hand,
forgives and forgives and forgives
as if he is in the world of his reality
yet strangely not of the world.

And there are accusations
of shrewdness …
of dishonesty ..
and above all,
of squanderings.
(Accusations only)

As I walk through my days,
and find placed in my hand
that which holds power
to hurt or to heal,
to feed or to starve,
to forgive or not,
I wonder if I will buckle
under accusations.

My questions are these ….

Will I, too, hear accusations
of squanderings
shouted about me
when I choose
what to do with that which
has been entrusted to me?

Oh God, I hope for such accusations.

And will the accusations
of squanderings
remain just accusations,
or will I be convicted
of such things?

Oh God, I pray for convictions.

anna

"Seekers and Rejoicers"

2010-09-11T14:01:00.005-04:00

(Please read Luke 15:1-10)

I love Jesus’ parables (well, sometimes, I do). They never seem to be about the lost sheep, the lost coin or the prodigal, as much as we would like to make them be or even as clearly as they pass through each parable. The focus always seems to be something else - another focus other than the ones we know so well. We personally identify with lost sheep, the lost coins and prodigals much more than we identify with the actual subject of attention in Jesus’ parables. The words “Which one of you” in the Luke 15:1-10 Scripture reading point me toward who I am to be. I am to be the seeker and the one who rejoices! “Rejoice with me” the Scriptures read. Jesus is saying, “This is what the Kingdom of God looks like. Be a part of it! Be in partnership with God!” He is saying this within earshot of all. The words are that of hope for the downtrodden and sinners, for the lost and the alone. Yet, perhaps they, too, are also called to this kingdom partnership as well, just as much as are the Pharisees and scribes. The law-driven, grumbling Pharisees and scribes are called to move beyond the laws toward becoming a reflection of God on earth - to come into this “Kingdom-come-on-earth” way of welcoming, reaching out, persistence, seeking and rejoicing. It seems too much of a shock for them, I’m afraid. Is it too much of a shock for us as well? Would we rather remain lost sheep, rolling coins, or prodigals? How can we grow to become one of those “Which one of you’s” of Jesus’ parables? How can we become seekers and rejoicers?

This morning, allow me to share with you one of the most important moments of my life. It seems fitting today because it happened on the evening of 9/11, nine years ago. Unlike many of you, I had no access to TV that morning. The receptionist where I worked had a small radio, our only source of news. The day flowed with a combination of deep emotion and that of responsibility to what I must do at work (life at work must go on in the midst of this time when lives of so many stopped or changed forever). I drove home at lunch. The sky was bright blue and cloudless. I looked toward a green hill where children were rolling down it, having a grand, giggly time. I wept for them, strange as it might seem. They were so oblivious to hate and fear and this kind of deep pain that will never be erased in its entirety from so many hearts. I wanted to protect these little ones forever from such things but knew that would be impossible for any of us to do. And so I felt alone and helpless, knowing that somewhere the skies were filled with dust and debris and death and my skies were cloudless and beautiful; somewhere there were tears and fears and unbelievable grief and yet in these children, there was only joy and giggles.

At the time, I had no church that I called "mine" in this city where I lived and worked. I had no church to run to that evening, yet I knew that I had to go somewhere. I sought out First United Methodist Church only because I am Methodist. I knew no one there. There I sat, in a sanctuary that was filled, yet I probably had never felt so alone in my life. When we sang, I only heard my voice. When we prayed aloud, no one else could be heard. Certainly others were singing and praying but this is the type of aloneness that I felt in this sanctuary filled with a church "family". As I sat at the end of the pew, listening to the pastor stumble through words that he could barely find, I felt a hand on my shoulder. A man had left his seat from across the aisle. He had walked down the aisle to me. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I didn't want you to think that you are alone." He squeezed my shoulder, patted it, smiled and quietly walked back to his seat. He was a stranger to me as I was to him. But he sought me out. Very deliberately, he sought me out. After the hastily-put-together worship service, I pushed my way through the people, trying to find this man. I couldn’t find him. I walked out of the church, down the steps and saw the young man with his wife and little girl. I went over to him, to thank him for seeking me out, for touching me, for assuring me that I wasn't alone in the middle of so many strangers, even as the pastor was speaking. I asked him why he felt such a need to do that. He couldn't really explain it beyond that I looked so alone even in this sanctuary that was standing-room-only that night and he felt very lifted out of his pew to walk toward me. He then turned to introduce his wife and child. I can't remember his wife's name but I do his only child. Her name was "Anna". I told him my name. He hugged me and said, "Maybe that's why I felt a need to whisper to you." There was a moment of rejoicing in the way that God nudges a person. We both felt as if we were the subjects of God's attentions that evening.

My remembering of that day 9 years ago is certainly of the horrific events. But it is also one of a stranger specifically seeking me out, touching my shoulder, smiling and whispering "I didn't want you to think that you are alone." That night, I learned how to be a seeker, how to touch, how to smile, and how to whisper to someone alone in a crowd of people, "You are not alone." That night, on a night that seemed as if no one was rejoicing, there was one such moment of rejoicing by a seeker and by one sought after.

Oh God, you seek us out when we are most alone, when we are that lost sheep, when we are a lost coin that has rolled across the floor and fallen through a crack, even a crack in a sanctuary. You climb through thorny brush to pull us out of our lostness. You throw us across your shoulders, holding us tightly. You sweep up dust to find us. You rejoice and rejoice and rejoice. But you also look at us and ask “Which one of you will do this as well?” Nudge us. Move us from our comfortable places. Place a broom in our hands. Lift us from our pews and walk with us down the aisles or out the doors. Give us hearts that are that of the seekers and rejoicers. Place “I will” on our lips when you ask “Which one of you will walk through a wilderness or sweep up dust or walk down an aisle for another?” Rejoicing God, thank you for inviting us to rejoice with you. Amen

anna

"Oh Woman, Dear Nameless Woman"

2010-08-18T06:31:00.003-04:00

(Please read Luke 13:10-17)

Oh woman, dear nameless woman,
your life isn’t as it should be.
What has held your head down?
What has bent your back and heart
so severely?

What has burdened you so, dear woman,
that you are bent over …
that you are unable to stand straight …
that you cannot look into the eyes
of others?
What has shackled you in this position?

Is it poverty … or abuse?
Has all sense of worth
been stripped from you?
Have the cruelties of life
spit upon you and mocked you?
Have you been used by men to the point
of losing your own name?
Has death taken the very ones
who would have taken care of you?

Oh woman, dear nameless woman,
how your heart must long
to look into the eyes of others once more;
to seek hope and acceptance and love.
But alas, you cannot, can you?
Your head cannot be lifted.
For whatever reasons, it is bent low.
You see only the dust of the streets
and the feet of those who
step over you and around you
and on you.

Oh woman, dear bent-low woman,
God has brought you to this place …
to this synagogue … to this person
who is teaching freedom from bondage.
On this day … yes, on this very Sabbath day
you will be set free
and will stand tall once more.

You must sense this hope, don’t you?
You made such a great effort to come.
You risked being turned away by the leaders
as being one so nameless that
you would be in the way …
a mere nuisance in their day.
But you have come to this place.
Dear woman, is this a last hope for you?

He has called you … not by name, but “Woman”.
Even before his touch,
even before you might stand tall,
he proclaims that those things
that had kept your head low
and your back so bent
be gone forever.

Did you hear his words, dear woman?
SET FREE!
Set free from all of the bent-down bondage!
His eyes are the first eyes
that you have seen in so long.
How can you not respond
in the way that you do!
Standing straight … Praising God!

Oh woman, dear nameless woman,
Have you heard his name for you?
"Daughter of Abraham".
Your great faith has given you a name
and this man whose own name is Jesus
has seen your faith,
even in your crippled posture.
What a beautiful name you have!

anna

"A Famine of Words - Psalm of Lament"

2010-07-20T06:53:00.003-04:00

The time is surely coming, says the Lord GOD, when I will send a famine on the land; not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD. They shall wander from sea to sea, and from north to east; they shall run to and fro, seeking the word of the LORD, but they shall not find it. (Amos 8:11-12 NRSV)

A famine on the land … that’s what he said.

Not a famine of bread
or a thirst for water;
he said, “It will be a famine
of hearing the words of the LORD.

I gasp for air.
I try to keep the tears from flowing.
I feel an emptiness
creep into my whole being.

LORD GOD … NO!
Do not take the hearing
of your words from me.
It IS my bread. It IS my water.
It IS my life-blood.

If all is silent
from you to me, LORD GOD,
I fear that all might fall silent
from me to you,
and from me for you …
for others.

If you do not speak words
in ways that I might hear,
then all of the words
that I know will
become unknown to me.

How can I find my own words
in the darkness of this silence?
There will be no words found
to tell others of your love and promise.
There will be no words found
to tell others of your grace and mercy,
for I will be starving
to hear of these things as well.

Even before you fall silent,
even before such a famine
of the hearing of your words, LORD GOD,
I already hear the gnawing of my heart
and feel a hint of its approaching emptiness.

I am wondering if
you will still hear my prayers.
Will my words to you fall softly
on your heart …
even in your silence?

Others know what it is like
to be hungry of body and soul.
Others know what it is like
to hear the echoes of your silence.
Others know because of
our own neglect and disregard,
not because of you.

Forgive me, O God. Forgive us.
You love without measure.
You delight in our times together.
How it must hurt you
to consider such a famine of words.

Before you fall silent,
What would you have me do, LORD GOD?
What would you have us do?

anna murdock © 2010

"A Shout From the Other Room"

2010-07-16T08:57:00.003-04:00

(Please read Luke 10:38-42)

I’m shouting from the other room with my arm around Martha’s shoulders. “Martha isn’t all that bad. Lighten up on her. She’s being hospitable, OK? She is giving her best.” (Oops, I should have stopped before that last sentence.) Martha might be cooking her best, never-fail meal and preparing her home to be a comfortable place for Jesus and his disciples. Welcoming them into her home is a way to serve her Lord. Hospitality, good food and a place of rest. She is offering to them something that they need. Those are gifts that she is giving to them. But Martha is tired, busy and missing out on fellowship. She is becoming annoyed.

What did we hear? Complaints from the hostess? Jesus says her name twice. “Martha, Martha”. My childhood memories tell me that nothing ever good comes from having your name said twice. But there seems to be a gentleness in Jesus’ voice as he seizes this moment of teaching and as he reaches out his hand and leads her into the place where Mary sits. From the protests of a sister from the other room and from the very words of Jesus, we too are taught and we begin to understand what it means to be a “Martha” with a “Mary” heart … a worship-filled, Spirit-led servant of our Lord who has listened well.

I will not bash Martha. Honestly, I can’t. I have been her and many of you can same the same thing. The good news is that there is plenty of room to sit beside of Mary. There is time to sit at the feet of Jesus to listen, learn and worship before going out and doing what we are called to do. There is more than enough time to pray for the Holy Spirit’s guidance as we go out to serve others.

Mary has chosen the better way. She has set aside her own things-to-do list for a while. She is being still and listening to Jesus, clinging to his very words. And she has set her priorities in order. The Marys (or Matthews) of this world know that there is no amount of obedience, no willing heart, no running here and there for the Church or for others, and no gifts that can be fully used without first sitting quietly and receiving the guidance of the Spirit. It is then when we catch a glimpse of God’s vision for the world.

Martha, Martha. Be still and know, Martha. Be still first before busyness takes over. Quit shouting from the other room, Martha. Sit with Mary. Listen to Jesus’ words. Know who he is. Receive his Spirit. Listen for the what’s, the when’s, the why’s and the where’s. If you do, your willingness and your gifts, yes, even your gift of hospitality will be best used in joyful and loving service for others.

Jesus is calling for us to come out from the other room … calling our names as he has called Martha’s name. He has invited everyone to begin again, to rest for a moment, to no longer be distracted. He has given every one of us a time to listen, a time to learn and grow and a time to place willing hearts before him. Jesus is saying, “Stop and choose the better way. Sit and clear your busy thoughts and make room for the thoughts of God.”

Oh God … Call out our names twice if you must. Maybe then we will look up from our busyness and listen. Lead us from the other room to our place at the feet of your Son. Raise our heads so that we might look into his eyes. Open our ears so that we might listen to his words. Give us rest and renewal and then lift us up and send us back out to serve others with hearts reflecting the One who has called our names and carrying with us a glimpse of your vision. Amen.

anna

"A Willingness Within"

2010-07-08T10:15:00.004-04:00

Please read Luke 10:25-37 (The story of “The Good Samaritan”)
Also, please read Thom Shuman’s “Half-Dead in the Ditch” at www.occasionalsightings.blogspot.com

If you notice, I have suggested that you not only read the Scriptures for the morning, but also Thom Shuman’s “Half-Dead in the Ditch” posting on his blog. Thom is a friend, a writer and poet, and a Presbyterian pastor. In his thoughts on Luke 10:25-37, he has reminded me that often we find ourselves right in the middle of the Scriptures in our everyday living. I call such things “God-sightings”. Thom calls them “Occasional Sightings of the Gospel”. As I read “Half-Dead in the Ditch”, I was reminded of a different look to the “Good Samaritan” story. It is a dog's story. At first glance it seems too remote to be considered an “occasional sighting” of this Gospel lesson for today. But actually, it IS this story.

Last Friday, a fairly large puppy was seen running across the parking lot of the business where I work. Well, let's just say “trying to run”. Her front paw was caught in the makeshift collar. One of our salesmen brought the puppy into our reception area. She collapsed and closed her eyes. The collar was for a very large dog; certainly not meant for a puppy. It had been cinched in with a twist-tie. That left a loop in which her foot had become entangled. There was no "give" in the collar so she was choking herself with each step. When she collapsed on the floor, she closed her eyes. She was so exhausted from both the heat and trying to run on 3 legs that she couldn't move. We petted her for a while and whispered to her. Still, her eyes remained closed. The animal control officer said, “She doesn’t stand a chance. Look at her face. She is part pit bull. Her ears have been trimmed by the owner. He probably has intentions of raising her for dog fights. If I take her away, she will only have 3 days.” The officer left with instructions to call her again if we chose to have this puppy taken away. The puppy never moved or opened her eyes as we talked about her.

Soon we found ourselves stepping over the puppy and walking around her. She was in our way. Someone picked her up and moved her into another room as a convenience to us. Still, she didn’t move nor did she open her eyes. There was talk of calling the animal control officer back. 4:00pm came. Still no movement. Still no opened eyes. 4:30pm arrived. The little 4-year-old daughter of one of our employees came into the office area from day school. Her mother told her little daughter to stay away from the puppy. “Don’t touch her. Don’t bother her.” The little one ignored her mother's request. She sat down on the floor, curled up beside of the puppy and began to gently stroke her. She firmly told everyone to “quit stepping over her.” She whispered into the puppy's ear. She placed her head on the puppy. I stood at the door and overheard her say, "I am here. You are OK." 4:50pm. The little girl and this puppy were walking down the hall! She was a bit possessive, keeping all of us who had been walking around and stepping over the puppy, away from the puppy. A few minutes later, I sat down with the little girl on the couch in the reception area. She was gently stroking the puppy. I asked her how SHE knew what to do. Her answer? “Because I am little and the puppy is little.”

All other days, this child hates to be called little. Normally, she would put her hands on her hips, stomp her foot and say "I'm a NOT little. I am a BIG girl." She's a stubborn little thing! Perhaps, in great mercy, she was WILLING to remember her smallness for the sake of this puppy.

There was a willingness within this child to become little again for the sake of the puppy ... there was a willingness within the "Good Samaritan" to recall his own days in the ditch and remember the best way out for the sake of the one who was beaten ... there was a willingness within Jesus to become despised and rejected, to be thrown into death's ditch and to be pulled back out by God for all of our sakes.

Most Merciful God ... There was a willingness within this child, this Samaritan and certainly within Jesus to offer great mercy. Is there a willingness within me as well? Am I willing to be the neighbor who loves and shows mercy? Oh, I pray that I am but in my heart I know that I have failed so many times. Forgive me... forgive us for stepping over others. Jesus points to this little girl and her puppy and then looks into our eyes and says, “Go and do likewise." Open our eyes, O God. Open our eyes and hearts to love and mercy. Amen.

anna

"This Week, I Remember"

2010-06-23T13:19:00.003-04:00

The drive is the same. Nine years haven’t really changed the route other than the trees that line the interstate are much larger, hiding new developments along the way. Last week, I was driving this route again as I do every weekend. Yet, I chose to wait a few more hours, moving my leaving from Sunday evening to 5:30am on Monday morning. I knew when to leave. The birds told me with a full chorus of “Morning Has Broken”, preparing for the event that they knew would come! Each little one knew to begin their song just before daybreak.

I thought that I remembered every single detail of that June morning in 2001. I thought I remembered every color, every gold-lined cloud and the very moment when the sun appeared. I remembered it to be so overwhelming to me, so breath-taking that I pulled off of the interstate and cried … and I heard God say, “Write again. It has been too long. But this time write for me.” I thought that I remembered everything.

I realized that nine years had faded some colors, had swept away some of the gold-lined clouds from my memory, had kept me from being blinded by the beauty of sunrises. Last week, I drove into the sunrise. A light fog hovered on the tops of tall grass and gathered more densely around the rivers along the route. Each mile brought with it more beauty and more surprises, more teals and blues, more peaches and pinks in the sky. The clouds were again gold-lined. At the very place where I heard God speak to me nine years ago, the sun seemed to rise quickly and with spectacular beauty. I heard, “Remember, I am the same, then as now. Forever.”

June 18, 2001 was the day when I first heard God say “Write again.” Few know how loving that gift was to me. I had written since childhood and kept all of my writings. In the late 60’s, something changed. I took every piece of writing that I had saved and ripped them up. And I stopped writing. I had allowed anger to strip me of the one thing that I loved to do. I had shredded the one passion in my life and almost proudly replaced it with a wall of protection. No more writing … until God’s love for me said, “Enough. Write again and start with my beautiful sunrise.”

June 18, 2001 … a morning of overwhelming beauty … and overwhelming love. Last week, I had an hour’s drive on an early Monday morning. Nothing much has changed along the route except that my days have been filled with thanksgiving … and there is writing once again.

This week, I remember …
anna

"What Are You Doing Here?"

2010-06-16T06:52:00.003-04:00

(Please read 1Kings 19:9, 11-13)

I don’t know why we do it, but we do. There are times when we crawl into our caves and stay for a while. Sometimes, it isn’t long enough for our eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. Other times, we spend the night there. And yes, there are those who make their cave a home. These are the caves of our uncertainties and doubts, of our frets and of our much-larger fears, and of our perceptions of inadequacies. These are the caves that we enter into when God seems to be silent. I don’t know why we do it, but we do – there are times when we choose the darkness of our caves over the light of God’s promises and presence.

We are never really at peace in the darkness. God will not leave us alone even though we might feel alone. If we truly listen, we will hear, “What are you doing here?” The question shoots straight into our dwelling places. The echoes seem to carry God’s question a bit deeper into our cave. Other words bounce off the walls of our self-imposed exile. “You know my promises for your life. You know that my strength will sustain you. You know my love for you is never-ending. You know I am forgiving. You know that I am with you always. So, what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” That is a good question. What am I doing here? When I find myself in a cave, all I can do is shrug my shoulders and say, “I know all of these things and yet, I have no good answer for you, Lord.”

Good question – no good answers – but GREAT NEWS. God asks us to come out of our self-imposed exile, out of our dark places and into the light. Not only that, God says “Let me help you focus again. Come to the top of the mountain. Stand out in the open. Be in my very presence. See my vision for your life from a most perfect vantage point. No obstructions. No caves.” Then comes the gentle whisper, “Abide in me, not in your cave. Trust in me.”

Holy God … Our fears and hesitations drive us into caves. Forgive us when we make a home there. Thank you for meeting us in our exile and darkness, for asking us a tough question and for loving us so much as to tell us not only to come out of our hiding place but to stand on the mountaintop in your holy presence. Your whispers to us are beacons of hope and light to lead us out again. O God, you have brought us out for ministry and service. You know that our renewal is strengthened by a freshness that can only be found in you. We give you praise this morning for your whispers to us. Amen.

anna

"I Have Something to Say to You"

2010-06-13T21:40:00.005-04:00

(Please read Luke 7:36 – 8:3 with all of your senses!)
Lectionary Scriptures OT 11-C

If ever there were Scriptures that needed to be read aloud and experienced with all senses, these Scriptures would be the ones! Don’t be embarrassed. Read the words with expression. Listen to the under-the-breath murmurs. Smell the aroma of food on the table and the fragrance of ointment from the jar. Feel the wetness of tears. See Jesus' feet being washed by tears and dried by hair. Pay particular attention to the body language. Feast on the Scriptures with all that is within you! Jesus is saying, “I have something to say to you.”

A Pharisee named Simon has invited friends and acquaintances for a meal. Surely there is a bit of pride to be seen on his face. After all, this man named Jesus, who was creating such a "buzz" in the area, has accepted his dinner invitation. Notice that Simon murmurs to himself at the sight of a woman, the uninvited, the sinner entering his home. The words that first leap off the page are the words of Jesus. “I have something to say to you". Surely Jesus has something to say to Simon ... and to this woman ... and to us. Jesus asks Simon a question and he answers it correctly, as any of us might have answered it. Perhaps he gives a sideways glance to his other guests when he does. Did I see smugness in Simon’s glance? Then Jesus turns the answer into words that a Pharisee doesn’t really want to hear, yet these are words that the woman needs to hear. Could she possibly have heard the word "forgiven"? Notice that after Simon answers Jesus' question, Jesus turns toward the woman, yet speaks to Simon. What body language! He speaks of all of the ways that Simon fails to show hospitality toward him and of the ways by which this woman, the "sinner", fills in the gaps for what Simon has neglected to do. Jesus’ feet are washed and dried not with water and cloth provided by the host but by tears and hair offered by the woman. The servant of the household brings no ointment for him, but the sinner in the room carries a jar of perfumed ointment solely for Jesus. Worship permeates the room.

Hear the quiet sobs. See the tears. There are many reasons for tears in this world -grief, joy, fear, pain and hope. Jesus mentions that this woman's sins (which were many) had been forgiven. Had Jesus already told her this, before she washed his feet with her tears and dried them with her hair? I wonder if her tears were the tears not of one whose face was still in the dirt of life, but the tears of one who had already heard the word "forgiven”. It seems that these were the tears of joy and hope and worship.

Jesus then has something else to say. “Your faith has saved you. Go in Peace." This is the “something” that the woman hears. The others hear words that tell them that things are no longer the same. It is not theirs to judge; it is Jesus’ to proclaim forgiveness. (Did I hear someone choke on their food at Simon’s table?).

Gracious God … You give us so much to think about. With words such as these, we can’t help but feast on your Word, feel the wet tears, hear Jesus speak to one then turn to look in another’s eyes, see hope make way for worship, even smell the aroma of forgiveness. Jesus is speaking to us, isn’t he? Forgive us when we are smug and proud; when we judge others and want little or no part of forgiveness for others. Give us the desire to welcome all to the Table. May we have the heart of Jesus so that we too might say to others, “I have something to say to you …” Amen

anna

"Trinity Faith"

2010-05-29T06:36:00.003-04:00

Trinity Sunday - I will admit that I, at times, find myself wounded and bruised when overhearing deep discussions of the Trinity. It is personal, I guess, as my own encounter and relationship with God is very much a walk through life with God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. The wounds and bruises come when I am told that what I know to be true in my own life might not be true at all and I shouldn't write in such "Trinity" words (that's what I get for hanging out with such a wonderful and diverse group of clergy, from many denominations, who love to ponder!). Oh, it is a mystery for sure! A child doesn't understand what is so hard with this kind of relationship! Maybe, I'm still a child ... and that is OK.

TRINITY FAITH

The child stands very small,
hidden in a great tall crowd
of ponderers and speculators,
of those who rename and rework
and those who murmur …
“There is no way. I don’t believe.”

She strains to see,
who holds their attention,
who is causing such commotion …
but she cannot see.
Their tallness surrounds her
and their voices try to drown out
the voice she is so wanting to hear.

But then she hears …
“Come unto me, little child.”
She looks around.
She seems to be the only child.
So the little one squeezes and pushes
her way through the crowds
who are still murmuring,
“There is no way. I don’t believe.”

In the clearing … in this place
between the murmuring ponderers
and the One who said, “Come, little child”,
she finds herself running,
with arms open wide,
as any child would run
toward LOVE.

The little one expected a hug from the One,
but instead, he took her hand and saw the bruise.
“What happened?” he asked
(knowing all along that someone had slapped
her little hand for not being a part of
the renaming and reworking and disbelief).

Yes, the little one expected a hug from the One,
but she received hugs from the Three.
The One who whispered, “beloved child”,
the One who healed her tiny bruised hand and
whispered, “Forgive and forgiven,”
the One who whispered, “I will not leave you as an orphan.”
It was too mysterious, yet entirely enough for her.

She looked at the huddled-together ponderers
and knew that they saw only One.
And she herself pondered …
Is that why he called out,
“Send the little children to me,
for such is the kingdom of heaven?”

The child embraced the Three….
and those huddled together
still saw only One,
and still murmured…
“There is no way. I don’t believe.”

anna murdock 2010©

"The Fire That Consumes Us"

2010-05-19T21:06:00.002-04:00

(Please read Acts 1:4-5 and Acts 2:1-4)
Lectionary Scriptures - The day of Pentecost

Moses saw the fire – a fire that did not consume the burning bush yet consumed the remainder of his life. Out of the fire, he heard the words, “Remove your sandals. You are standing on holy ground.” Out of the fire, he heard, “I AM GOD.” Just as the burning bush marked the ground as holy for Moses, the tongues of fire that separated and rested on each of the disciples on the day of Pentecost marked that very moment and place as holy ground. For those disciples, as it was for Moses, this was a fire that consumed the remainder of their lives.

There were 120 gathered in a room, waiting for the "gift" that had been promised. They had been told by Jesus to wait in Jerusalem, and so they did. They came together in one place and waited in expectation, but for what? These disciples and followers would soon discover that this "place" where they waited was a place where the Holy Spirit would fill their whole being and where their Lord's own prayers for them would be answered. But first, they found themselves together - waiting and praying.

There was a hodge-podge of people gathered together for sure - good, yet stumbling disciples. There were those who had once admonished Jesus and denied him and those who had fled in fear after his crucifixion. There were doubters. Some had stood sobbing yet steadfast at the foot of the cross. Others had returned to their sameness for a while. These were the men and women who had walked with Jesus, who had heard his words and who had witnessed miracles. Among those in this gathering were the very ones who first looked directly into the eyes of our Risen Lord. All had different pasts and bumblingS and shining moments. All had their own personal encounter with Jesus.

In this room, they waited and prayed. They were shaped, molded and transformed much like babies yet to be born. The disciples found themselves, at last, to be moving toward one accord as was Jesus’ prayer for them (and for us). A sound like a violent wind filled the whole house and what seemed to be tongues of fire rested upon each of them. The fire consumed the very hearts of those who are present yet burned nothing around them. There was an immediate empowerment of the Holy Spirit. The place where Jesus' prayers were and are answered is not to be found in the square footage of this gathering room. This "place" of answered prayers is to be found deep within each believer. The gift of the Father is given and the Church begins to take shape as a living, breathing entity in this world and those who gather are "birthed" into Spirit-filled, Spirit-empowered and Spirit-led disciples.

This is the story of the birth and empowerment through the Holy Spirit of our own churches and of our own lives as disciples. And so we gather together in our churches just as Jesus commanded his disciples to gather together. We too are disciples with very different pasts. We gather. We worship. We pray in earnest that we might be of ONE accord - free from attitudes of who is the greatest, free from trivial pettiness, free from prejudices, from fears and from apathy. Perhaps our greatest focus in renewal and revival is to be gathered together in worship and expectant prayer, to move toward the body of Christ that is truly with "one accord" and to prepare our own hearts so as to make a welcomed home for the Holy Spirit to dwell within us. It is then when the doors of our churches will fling open, and we, the gathered, the hodge-podge of disciples, will go out into the world as Spirit-led disciples of Jesus Christ with hearts consumed by this holy fire within us.

Gracious and Giving God … Your Son has said that this fire that consumes is your gift to us. Perhaps we are too hesitant to pray for such all-consuming fire for our lives and for our churches. Forgive us for not reaching out to receive this incredible gift. In this moment, in both our alone times and in our gathering-together times, we pray that we might have willing hearts to receive your great gift. May each of us be consumed by your Holy Fire so that we might be a part of bringing the impassioned Church into this world, fueled by the flames of your Spirit and fanned by holy winds of your very breath. Come, Holy Spirit, Come. Amen.

anna

"But Wait !"

2010-05-10T09:28:00.003-04:00

Please read John 17:20-26
Lectionary Scriptures Easter 7-C

Do you remember the moment, the very moment when you first heard someone sweetly and earnestly pray for you in your presence? Whatever the reason might have been, someone looked to the heavens and called out to God for you and you overheard. The feeling that swept over you surely is etched in your memory. The actual words might have faded over time but the sense of humility, of peace, of healing and of purpose remains forever. It is overwhelming. God’s ear is turned on words offered on your behalf by another. Often it is that very moment that fills us with God’s strength and sends us into the world as disciples.

Jesus’ disciples had gathered and were waiting together as instructed. In their waiting, no doubt there were whispers as they prayed, as they wondered and as they pieced together the words that Jesus had earlier offered to them. Oh, how they must have felt to have overheard Jesus’ beautifully intimate prayer for God’s glory to shine through his life and in his suffering. How powerful and yet how humbling it must have been to be counted among the disciples as they overheard his prayers for God’s power and protection to come upon them. They now found themselves in a room, waiting for this holy power to come and send them out into the world.

But wait! What is that we hear? Did Jesus offer prayers to his Father for us as well? These very prayers have brought us into the room with the disciples. We are listening even closer than before. Jesus is praying in earnest for us. Staring death in the face, Jesus remembers you and me. We are always on his mind.

We hear Jesus whisper “may they be one.” His words resound throughout the ages. This is a prayer for complete unity among believers not unlike the unity of Jesus and God … a unity of love and faith-filled obedience. This overheard prayer is for the body of Christ to be of like mind, realizing that the diversity of its parts is not a division in the body. He prays for us, the body of believers, so that we might stand before the world in Jesus as he is in his Father. He prays that through this strength found in unity, of like purpose and of love, the world will come to know that the very same love that God has for him, God has for us as well. In our unity, in our oneness, Jesus prays that we mirror his divine relationship with God so that the world might know of this tremendous love for all and that we might bear witness to it.

And just as we want to run out into the world, filled with the loveliness of Jesus’ prayer for us, he says “But wait … You are witnesses of these things. I am going to send you what my Father has promised, but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.” There are times when it is good to be overwhelmed by the prayer that Jesus has prayed for us in our presence. It is good as well to be wrapped in the swaddling of this love before going out into a world fully clothed with this holy power. So wait … wait until …

Holy God … Thank you for allowing us to overhear such intimate conversations. This prayer that has been whispered on our behalf has truly touched our hearts in overwhelming ways. But who are we to be counted among the disciples? Who are we to be chosen to share your great love with others? Who are we to have our very names whispered by Jesus in such a way that they might fall before you? We are yours and we are loved and that is enough, isn’t it? Give us like purpose, Oh God. Bring us to that place were Pentecost happens. Amen

anna

"MY Peace I Give"

2010-05-05T06:08:00.003-04:00

(Please read John 14:23-29)
Lectionary Scripture - Easter 6-C

We gathered together behind closed doors to share those most unexplainable moments in our journeys of faith. Time and time again, I heard variations of the same words. "I can’t explain it. It was a peace that washed over me." Every person in the room, as they shared their spiritual journey with the others, ended by saying those same thoughts in some manner. Had they not heard the others speak of this same Peace? It was as if they must end their own sharing by saying these very words or their stories would not be complete. This unexplainable Peace proved to be the common denominator in our many different experiences. God’s Peace-giving was too defining of a moment in our lives for it not to be told once more. It was a Peace that had washed over every person. A holy Peace that now flowed through them, at times more recognizable than other times, but always there. It was that Peace that passes all understanding.

This is the very same Peace that put a song in the hearts of the imprisoned Paul and Silas. This is the Peace that lifted the eyes of Stephen in his last hours on earth. It has carried so many through the challenges of life and finds its way into the darkest of days. And this is the Peace that keeps us resting in the arms of God. It is not of our making for it is holy through and through.

Search as hard as you can. Try to find this kind of peace in possessions, in books, in money or in the words of others. You will not find it. Jesus looked at his followers and said, "Peace I leave with you; MY peace I give you." Did you hear that? He said, "MY Peace." This Peace is certainly not as the world gives and one that passes all understanding for Jesus’ Peace comes from an intimate relationship with his Father. He has seen God’s face. He has rested in God’s loving care. He has trusted his Father in all things. And Jesus has heard God call him “beloved”. THIS is the Holy Peace that flowed like a river through the veins and heart of Jesus himself. THIS is what Jesus calls “MY Peace.”

Oh, the glorious words. “MY Peace I GIVE to you. It is a gift, this Peace. Not earned, but given. As much as I would like to give it to you myself, I can’t. It is Jesus’ Peace, not mine. It is his gift for you, not mine to give. How can one preach or write about something so intimate as the giving and receiving of such Peace? I don’t think that we can. But we can offer the hope that comes in the waiting and the testimony of those who cannot share their faith-journey without ending with the words of such Peace.

Holy God, Giver of Peace … You know just the perfect time to give this gift to each one of us. Often it is when we least expect it. Many times you pour out this Peace upon us when our lives seem to be farther away from you than they should be. You are patiently persistent, carrying this gift with you always, waiting for a time when an ounce of faith slips out from a broken-apart heart or your name falls from our lips in a way that surprises us. You wait, with this gift of Peace in hand and wait and wait until the time is right for the gift-giving. Thank you, oh God, for this Peace-With-Us that washes over us and quenches our thirst with the waters of Shalom. Amen.

anna

"Kingdom Words ... Kingdom Works"

2010-04-26T07:04:00.004-04:00

(Please read John 13:31-35)
Lectionary Scriptures Easter 5-C

He says, “Follow me” ….
and nets are dropped ….
and first faith-steps are taken….
and healings and teachings begin.

We say, “Lord, Teach us” ….
and we are taught to pray …
and we are taught to live …
and we are taught to forgive.

He says, “I AM” …
and the hungry hear “Bread of Life” …
and the thirsty hear “Living Water” …
and the lost hear “Good Shepherd.”

He says, “It is finished” …
and love flows down from a cross …
and out from an empty tomb …
and we will hear, “Go and tell.”

He says, “Peace be with you” …
and he breathes on us the Holy Spirit …
and so we are sent out, as he was sent …
and we say, “My Lord and my God.”

He asks, “Do you love me?” ….
and waits for an answer.
And he says, “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep” …
and hands us his own servant’s towel.

He says, “I give you a new commandment” …
and “just as I have loved you” …
and “love one another” …
and “everyone will know you are my disciples.”

And suddenly, in these very words
of this new commandment
to love others as he has loved us,
we become a part of kingdom work on earth.

THY KINGDOM COME … THY WILL BE DONE ON EARTH AS IT IS IN HEAVEN.

Amen.

anna

"Telling our Psalm 23 Story"

2010-04-20T05:55:00.001-04:00

Psalm 23 (in a version other than KJV)
Lectionary Scriptures Easter 4-C

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. (Psalm 23 NIV)

Oh, so you have looked at the Scriptures this morning and said, “I know this by heart. I’ll just glance over the words and move on.” Think again. More often than not, we have memorized the King James Version of Psalm 23. The words found there are beautiful to be sure. But there are no “Thou’s” in the version above. The words don’t “floweth” in quite the same way, do they? That is why I chose another version of David’s beautiful testimony of faith. There are times when the familiar is too familiar and we forget to listen to the words that are offered to us. So, this morning, I ask that you reread Psalm 23 in a different light. Sit on your porch, in a garden or in a quiet room. Read the words slowly, as if you are reading them for the first time. Perhaps choose several versions to read. Allow the words to take shape not just as David’s walk of faith but that of yours as well. These words are for the living! They are for each of us in our own days.

When I turned to my Bible this morning, I first read “Psalm 23 … a psalm of David”. These words are David’s testimony to the everyday relationship with the LORD in and of his life. TESTIMONY. The words in the wonderful book of Psalms, whether they be words of joy and thanksgiving, words of lament, or words of praise and worship, are all testimonies to God’s involvement in the life of an individual or community. TESTIMONY. That word stops us in our comfortable tracks, doesn’t it? It asks more of us than we are often willing to give. TESTIMONY. If you had pen in hand, what would you write as your own Psalm 23 words of faith? What would you share?

I daresay that the words of faith that find themselves flowing from us would still be those of a consistent, unchangeable, ever-present, loving LORD. David’s shepherd is our shepherd! His LORD is our LORD! Just think for a moment … the LORD, the very One who created all is our shepherd. Imagine that! The One who caused the floods and dried the land is our shepherd. We are God’s priceless possessions for sure, loved both in our “bleating” times and in our times of rest.

How precious to me are the verbs of my shepherd. God MAKES me to lie down, LEADS me to quietness, RESTORES my soul, GUIDES me in paths of righteousness, COMFORTS me in dark places, PREPARES a table before me even in the presence of my enemies, ANOINTS my head with oil. Yes, I am LED by the shepherd and FOLLOWED by goodness and love. These verbs are not only the promises and testimonies of David and not only mine that I claim, but be assured that they are yours as well.

The LORD is David’s shepherd. The LORD is my shepherd. The LORD is your shepherd. We are part of a wonderful flock. How sweet it is to hear the voice of our shepherd. How powerful it is to testify to his care for us and presence with us. Just as David’s words are to us, so might our words be for others.

Holy Shepherd of our lives … This day, we pray that we might stop “bleating” long enough to hear your voice. Place within each of us a testimony to your ever-presence and to your loving care. Pour out of us words that can no longer be kept to ourselves. Open hearts of wayward sheep so that they might hear you calling for them and live into their days being loved and cared for and led by you. Amen.

anna

"Gone Fishing"

2010-04-15T20:47:00.005-04:00

Please read John 21:1-19
Lectionary Scriptures Easter 3-C

This week has been a strange one for me. This is the first time since I began to write weekly devotions in 2001 that a Scripture has weighed so heavily on me that it became impossible to choose other verses, yet at the same time, the words would not flow from heart to page. I was so tempted to simply e-mail you with the words “GONE FISHING" or "GONE FISHING. WILL BE BACK SOON" or maybe even "GONE FISHING. WILL BE BACK AFTER BREAKFAST" and leave it at that.

I had read the Scriptures over and over again. What I have wanted to share was trying its best to flow in poetry form and yet didn't. I tried to write in prose, and couldn't. Each time I read "Feed my sheep", tears welled up in my eyes. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday came and went. So what am I to do? This morning I realized that I am to share the best that I can even if it is Thursday evening.

It seems that this quietness of mine had a lot to do with the glow of a charcoal bonfire, the smell of the smoke and the eye contact between a disciple and Jesus. Not along a lakeshore as in these Scriptures, but in a courtyard. Surely the bonfire, the smell, the eye contact made with Jesus along the lakeshore transported Peter back to his three denials. I felt for him and quite possibly even for me.

In this moment when Jesus sought Peter out and invited the disciples to breakfast, I have seen myself this week with bread in one hand and reaching out to receive a piece of fish from Jesus. Sitting with the disciples, with the warmth of the bonfire on my own face, I have remembered my own goof-ups and misspoken words and suddenly realize that Jesus loved me through them, time and time again. I have remembered denials and omissions, and have sensed this breakfast prepared on the edge of what is comfortable and familiar and safe to me (as it was to Peter) is Jesus' way of pursuing us in spite of such things. I have heard, "Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep" and "Do you love me?” and the tears have flowed. This is what has slowed my words for the week. After Jesus loving Peter (and me) through goof-ups, after pursuing Peter (and me) through omissions, after raising a shamed head at a sunrise breakfast invitation and at the very place where Peter (and I) find it easy to climb back into a comfortable, safe and familiar box (or boat), Jesus gives great affirmation to what Peter is called to do as a disciple on earth.

And what about me? What about you? What about others? This would be the most "delicious" breakfast ever, for any one of us, when all of the puzzle pieces fall into place and we recognize what Jesus is doing. Jesus LOVES us even in our Peter-like responses. He PURSUES us even after omissions. He gives AFFIRMATION in our calling (whatever shape that puzzle piece might be).

Listen to the words spoken at this breakfast. Listen as if Jesus speaks them directly to you. “Do you love me? Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep. Follow me.” We are made whole once more and sent out to feed and tend in Jesus’ name.

God of mercy and grace … When we put up a “Gone Fishing” sign, you meet us at the lakeshore and point to the school of fish. When we can only see a bonfire that flickers with shameful memories, you invite us to breakfast around a new bonfire. You raise our heads so that our faces might reflect your Light. When our last memories of eye contact were that of omission and denial, you ask us to look into your eyes once more … and we now see love and forgiveness. When we hunger to be the disciples you have called us to be, you hand us bread and fish and affirm our callings. And when we struggle with words of love for you, you help us form the words. O God, thank you for this great breakfast. Amen

anna

"Without A Doubt!"

2010-04-05T23:30:00.000-04:00

Please read John 20:24-31
Lectionary Scriptures Easter 2-C
“But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.” (John’s words … an eyewitness to the risen Christ and to Thomas’ hurting hopes transformed into unwavering belief and faith … without a doubt!).

I’m afraid that, over the centuries, a huge “D” has been sewn onto Thomas’ robe. The word has been branded across his forehead. And fingers point as whispers are said. “Doubter". Oh my. For us “Johnny-Come-Lately’s” to the faith, we know deep within our hearts that this is a misnomer. The word “doubter” becomes such an obstacle that we often turn a deaf ear to probably the greatest affirmations of faith in all of the Scriptures. “MY LORD and MY GOD!” There is not a shred of doubt in the words that spill out from the lips of Thomas. Not one.

Of course, we do wonder why Thomas wasn’t with the others at Jesus’ first appearance in the room. That’s our nature to wonder about such things. There is no indication as to the why’s in the Scriptures. Perhaps it hurt too much for Thomas to hope. Just maybe it was that same hurting hope that brought him back into the house to be with the disciples and the others. Yes, Thomas grew up with the words of Isaiah telling of the coming of the Messiah. So have we. Yes, he walked with Jesus, listened to his teachings and witnessed miracles. And yes, he was a disciple among disciples. An eyewitness to Jesus’ crucifixion. He should have believed without any other proof. So, why should Thomas have had such a need to see Jesus, the risen Christ for himself?

Thomas heard the words “We have seen the risen Lord” from the other disciples and yet didn’t believe. Neither did the disciples when Mary exclaimed the same. Haven't we heard the very same words from those who have shared their own faith with us? … “I have seen the risen Lord.” The witness of others opens our hearts to believe but there is a need within each of us for a personal encounter with our risen Lord.

There is such beauty in these verses. Thomas voiced what he truly needed. Jesus offered only what Thomas’ heart required. To see the nail marks in Jesus’ hands. To place his hand there as well as in Jesus’ sword-pierced side. There was no mention of nail-pierced feet from Thomas nor did Jesus offer to show him those marks as further proof. The risen Lord was (and is) the Good Shepherd seeking to save the lost lamb. Jesus loved this one person enough to address Thomas’ hesitations and hurting hopes. He said, “See my hands. Put your hand in my side.” Thomas found that he had no need to do that. His affirmation of faith was immediate and it has echoed throughout the ages. “MY Lord and MY God!”

Thomas’ proclamation, without a doubt, is the clearest profession of faith, allegiance and loyalty in the Gospels. Without a doubt! “MY Lord and MY God!” Let’s remove all doubt. Jesus says that those of us who believe without seeing will be blessed. John ends this account, underlining what is most important and that is our ultimate response to Jesus Christ. When Jesus presents himself to any of us, will we fall on our knees and proclaim, without a doubt, “MY Lord and MY God”?

Prayer: God-among-us … You find us everywhere, don’t you? Behind closed doors, waiting, but not knowing what we are waiting for. Wandering among other wanderers, hoping beyond hope that we might see you for the first time or see you with greater clarity. Ready to share with another that we have indeed seen you. Praying that just one might say “My Lord and My God”. Remembering when we once said those same words. O God, make your Presence known wherever we are and in whatever way is needed to place “My Lord and My God” on our lips and no doubt within our hearts. Amen.

anna

"Father, into your hands ... "

2010-04-03T06:21:00.000-04:00

Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Holy Saturday – Our seventh step into Holy Week
There is a quietness in this day and a vigil to keep

You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.

“FATHER, INTO YOUR HANDS I COMMEND MY SPIRIT”

Darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon (the sixth hour), while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Having said this, he breathed his last. (Luke 23:44-46)

The Scriptures say that Jesus’ last words came in a loud voice. What great effort must have been found in his last breath to produce words that were heard above a whisper. “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Jesus says, “Father”, and the Father-Son relationship is restored. He affirms his trust in his Father. There is no longer what seemed to be separation and silence when the sins of the world slammed hard upon the shoulders of Jesus. Certainly, his Father had not turned away from him. Through it all, Jesus decides where to put his trust. And at the time of his very choosing, when ALL has been said and done, Jesus breathes his last breath. The crucifixion comes to an end with the total oneness of Son and Father. “Father, take what I have offered … my suffering and sacrifice. Into your hands I commend my spirit.”

Reflection: What burdens, what things that hurt and pierce your soul do you need to leave at the foot of the cross today? “Father, into your hands I place these things.”

Prayer: Holy Sacrifice …. You have suffered so much for me. Your words have flowed down from the cross in puddles of forgiveness and love and hope and promise. My gratitude can only be adequately shown if I offer the same to others. Make my heart tender toward others, O Lord, and give me the strength and endurance to do what you have called me to do. Into your hands … into your hands. Amen.

anna

"It is finished!"

2010-04-02T08:04:00.000-04:00

Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Good Friday – Our sixth step into Holy Week

You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.

"IT IS FINISHED!”

When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” (John 19:30)

From the cross, words of forgiveness, hope and love had been softly and painfully spoken. From the cross, came a cry of anguish as the Sinless One had taken on the sins of all mankind and as he had felt an alienation that he had never once experienced from his Father. The journey to the cross began with an angelic birth announcement illuminated by the glory of the Lord. “A Savior has been born to you; he is Christ, the Lord,” the angels shouted from the heavens. The journey seemed to have ended in the darkness of this very moment with the words “It is finished.” All stood in the darkness of their questionings and doubts. “It is finished” sounded much more like resignation than it did a victory cry from the one the disciples had called Lord. We need to experience this darkness of Good Friday, to reflect on the One whom we too have followed and to wonder about the words “It is finished” before we can translate these words to “Paid in Full.” IT IS FINISHED. Satan knows full well the meaning and impact of the words, for he no longer has a stronghold on mankind. The eternal destiny of humankind hangs on the cross. IT IS FINISHED. The sacrifice has been made on our behalf. The gap between sinful man and holy God has been bridged. Sins have been forgiven. We have been reconciled to God. Our debt has been paid in full. IT IS FINISHED. In just a few days, we will understand. “It is finished” is a victory cry! The tomb will be empty!

Reflection: Jesus gave his life, his love, his all for me. How completely have I given my life, my love, my all to him?

Prayer: Holy Finisher of our faith …Your work is done. You have painfully and lovingly brought me into a “forever” relationship with God. I have stood at the foot of your cross and cried tears of sorrow, wanting to bring you down and yet at the same time I have whispered, “But I need you to do this for me.” Your grace and mercy and love fills my heart with gratitude and love. Place in me a desire to be your hands and feet and heart in this world so that others might feel your undying love for them. Amen.

anna

"I am thirsty"

2010-04-01T05:38:00.000-04:00

Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Holy Thursday – Our fifth step into Holy Week

You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.

“I AM THIRSTY”

Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scriptures would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. (John 19:28-29)

Immanuel. God with us. The Creator of rivers and seas, the One who washes the lands with rains, THIRSTS. Never have we understood the words “fully human” in terms of Jesus any more than we do when we look into Jesus’ eyes as he hangs on the cross and hear his whispers, “I am thirsty”. And yet, we cannot possibly understand these three words completely for it is this Holy Thirst that has brought him to this place. The One who says, “I am thirsty” IS the Living Water. His “thirst” is what holds him on the cross for a little longer. His “thirst” is not only human, but it is the “thirst” of God who has an unfathomable love for us. He “thirsts” for us to live as children of faith, children forgiven and forgiving, children of new life. “For God so loves YOU (and the world), that he gave his only begotten son, that if YOU believe in him, You will have everlasting life.” Thirsts are quenched in your faith … God’s thirst for abundant life for you and your thirst for the love of God in your life.

Reflection: There is such longing in God’s thirst. Have I fully allowed the depth of his longings to sink into my heart? When will I recognize the thirst of God’s love for me and respond with my life and my love?

Prayer: Holy Living Water … you wash over me to cleanse me. Your cries of “I am thirsty” have my name attached to it. My love for you and my life given to you quenches your thirst and mine, doesn’t it? Open my heart so that I might hear your cries of thirst from the cross today. Give me a longing to be found by your love and a heart that wants nothing more than to carry your thirst-quenching love to others. Amen.

anna

"My God, My God ... Why?"

2010-03-31T12:20:00.000-04:00

Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Holy Wednesday – Our fourth step into Holy Week

You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.

“MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?"

From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani ?” which means, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:45-46)

At the foot of the cross we hear the prayer of the Son to the Father… “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This is the moment that Jesus had so dreaded…not the physical pain that he would endure. He had never been apart from his Father. Never. He had never experienced sin. And now, in this ninth hour, he was experiencing silence and separation from his Father, and the sins of all of mankind slammed hard upon his shoulders. This faith-cry in the darkness was whispered, but the reality of it all has resounded throughout the centuries. We can see God because of the hours when Jesus saw only darkness and heard only silence. We can be assured of eternity in God’s presence because our sins were piled onto the shoulders of the One who had never known sin. The anguish that he bore for us is beyond measure.

Reflection: Be silent and still in this “ninth hour.”

Prayer: Holy Jesus, I am without words. I sit in silence. I can’t begin to understand what took place in this ninth hour, can I? God’s sacrifice. Your sacrifice … the sacrifice for us, the sinners. I am loved beyond words and, because of this ninth hour, I can be assured that when I cry out “My God, my God”, God’s back will surely not be turned away. There are truly no words. No words. Only silence. Only worship. Amen.

anna

"Here is your son ... Here is your mother"

2010-03-30T20:16:00.000-04:00

Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Holy Tuesday – Our third step into Holy Week

You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.

“DEAR WOMAN, HERE IS YOUR SON ... HERE IS YOUR MOTHER.”

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Dear woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home. (John 19:25-27)

The labored words came from Jesus’ lips. He looked into the eyes of his mother and said, “Dear woman, here is your son.” He looked into the disciple’s eyes and said, “Here is your mother.” It was a moment of transition for all three. An assignment from the cross was issued. Jesus was asking this disciple to be what we are all called to be … his hands … his feet … filled with his love. Jesus was asking this disciple to be his substitute on earth. What a privilege in this moment of sorrow. What a calling for us as well. We are asked to be reflective of the One who took his place on the cross for us. We are to be a substitute for the Substitute. It was a privilege for this disciple. It should also be a privilege for us. Jesus methodically took care of all that was important at that moment before accomplishing that which would affect our eternity. Having done all of this, he was able to focus only on what was to be accomplished … a Holy Substitution for the likes of us.

Reflection: What must change in my life so that I too might become the hands, feet, and love of Jesus in this world?

Prayer: Most Holy Substitute … I am looking into your heart and hearing the very same words that were said that day, aren’t I? “Here is your mother and your brother and your sister. Here are the homeless and hungry and the down-trodden.” I pray that I might have a heart that will love others as you have loved me and that I will say YES to the discipleship of being your hands, your feet and your heart in our world. Amen.

anna

"Today, you will be with me in Paradise"

2010-03-29T20:12:00.000-04:00

Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Holy Monday – Our second step into Holy Week

You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.

"TODAY YOU WILL BE WITH ME IN PARADISE"

One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43)

On Golgotha’s hill stood three crosses. The two criminals on either side of Jesus heard his first words uttered from his own cross. “Father, forgive them…” Forgiveness was already in place and Paradise was within sight right at that very moment. Even after hearing his prayers for forgiveness, one criminal hurled insults at Jesus. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” This cross sadly becomes a cross of rebellion and rejection. On the other side of Jesus’ cross, hangs a criminal who truly did hear Jesus’ words and allowed this incredible prayer of forgiveness to become a holy promise for him in his last hours. This man’s last hope hinged on what he had heard from the central cross. The words rang in his ear and in his heart. “Father, forgive them….” And with a contrite and repentant heart, this criminal says, “I have done wrong, but you have not. Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” His cross had, at that moment, become a cross of repentance and the words that bring us to our knees were said that day. “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.” The central cross stands tall as the cross of redemption. Forgiveness is in place, nailed to that cross with unremovable nails. Assurance of eternal life comes with our words “Jesus, You are my Lord and Savior. Remember me today.” Grace freely given and mercy so undeserved. We have been redeemed.

Reflection: With the ringing of Jesus’ prayers for forgiveness still in our hearts, we come to the cross this day to say “Remember me, Jesus, today!” There are so many in this world who need to hear that forgiveness and salvation is available to them. Today. Now. Consider how you might share this freeing and eternal hope with others.

Prayer: Most Holy Redeemer … Unfathomable love kept you on the cross for both my sake and others’ sake. Open my eyes and heart so that I might live in this world as both forgiven and forgiving. Let me not keep your forgiveness and salvation to myself. Place before me opportunities to share this eternal promise with others. Today. Amen.
anna

"Father, Forgive Them ... "

2010-03-29T01:21:00.000-04:00

Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
Our first steps into Holy Week/Sunday, March 28, 2010

As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven,Jesus
resolutely set out for Jerusalem. (Luke 9:51)

RESOLUTELY. This is a word filled with both focused intent and unimaginable love for it is the word used to describe Jesus’ journey to the cross. He resolutely set his sights on Jerusalem and on the
cross with each of us in mind. We are disciples among the
Twelve…disciples asking the same questions, hearing Jesus’ prayers for
us, looking at the same Lord and hearing the same nails being pounded
into the same cross. Holy Week is a difficult week for sure. We find
ourselves standing in the shadow of the cross and looking into the
face of our crucified Lord. We will cry out “what wondrous love is
this?” … and in the same breath whisper, “I so need you to do this for
me.” We cannot live in the power of the resurrection if we haven’t
walked with Jesus to the cross and paused to look and listen.

You are now invited, each day of this week, to personal meditations
based on Jesus’ words from the cross.

"FATHER, FORGIVE THEM, FOR THEY DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING."

Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be
executed. When they came to the place called The Skull, there they
crucified him, along with the criminals – one on his right, the other
on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know
what they are doing.” (Luke 23:32-34)

What Wondrous Love is this…offering such a prayer in his first words
as he hung on the cross? What Wondrous Love is this, that the Son of
God should plea for mercy and forgiveness for those who accuse and
crucify him, those who deny him and hide from him, and those who turn
their backs on him by omission? What Wondrous Love is this that Jesus
should exert such painful and physical effort to pray to his Father
(and our God) for each one of us? Those who have received and felt
the healing of God’s forgiveness understand this Wondrous Love. It is
the love of Jesus Christ who spent his last efforts on the cross and
his last breaths to ask for forgiveness on our behalf. And to Jesus,
these words were important enough to say first … before all other
words.

Reflection:
1.)Where do these words need to be taken to heart in my own life?
2.)To whom do I need to offer such forgiveness as this?

Prayer: Wondrous Love…. Your first words disturb me. I so need to
hear your words of forgiveness for those things I have just placed at
your feet (and for those things left unsaid). And yet, in receiving
your forgiveness, you look into my heart and say “Go and do likewise”.
Heal my soul with your forgiving, wondrous love, O Lord. I pray that
I will show others mercy just as you have shown me mercy … that I will
be forgiving as you have forgiven me. Amen.

anna

"No Wonder"

2010-03-22T06:23:00.000-04:00

(Please read Luke 19:35-38,41-42 and Matthew 21:1-11) Palm Sunday

No wonder. No wonder there was joy among the Jews as Jesus rode toward Jerusalem on a colt. No wonder the crowds were shouting “Hosanna” and waving palm branches. No wonder cloaks were placed on the ground as the long-awaited messiah-king passed by. They were the oppressed, both politically and spiritually. They were searching and hoping for the return of the one who had been promised to them, the one who would free them from their oppression. They were the people of Israel who remembered the words of Zechariah. ”See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey.” No wonder there was rejoicing as the colt and “king” passed by. Jesus was this messiah-king who would rescue them and give them freedom. No wonder there was rejoicing.

But some of those who stood along the side of the road to Jerusalem that day were also the very ones who forgot the words of Isaiah. ”But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” No wonder songs of praise and shouts of “Hosanna” soon would turn to shouts of “CRUCIFY HIM. CRUCIFY HIM.” There is no wonder in it all. The “Palm Sunday crowd” wanted a messiah-king of their own making. They had witnessed healings and miracles. Just a few miles from Jerusalem, Lazarus was raised from the dead by the very one who was now passing by. Yet, the conquering messiah of their dreams and the objections voiced by the priests blinded them to the true Messiah who was riding the colt toward their city.

No wonder. No wonder there were tears flowing from the eyes of Jesus. No wonder there were sobs from deep within. In the midst of the celebration, those who had sacrificed their cloaks for the one passing by had missed the Messiah of God's making. They do not see his tears. They do not hear his sobs. No wonder his heart was breaking. Jesus knew that they had not heard what he had been saying to them. He knew that they would soon turn their backs on him. He knew all of this even as he climbed onto the back of the colt. He knew that they wanted a conquering hero without battle scars. And he also knew that to conquer their sins, he must be wounded, even to death. His tears were not for the path that was placed before him. His sobs were for those who would reject him, those who would turn their backs on the Son of God as he passed by, those who would all too soon toss their palm branches by the wayside and murmur, “this is not the messiah whom I am looking for.”

Now our Lenten journey takes us to Jerusalem. As we stand, with palm branches in hand, practicing our “Hosannas”, know that we will soon be asked by the Messiah of God’s making, “Who do you say that I am?” What will our answer be?

God of grace and mercy … You have now handed us a palm branch and placed us on the side of a dusty road leading into Jerusalem. On this last portion of our Lenten journey, you are asking even more of us than in previous days. You are truly asking us to declare who the One is who is riding toward the cross on this lumbering donkey, aren’t you? O God, we pray that we will wave our palm branches not because everyone else is, but because we must. We pray that our shouts of “Hosannas” don’t echo with a hollowness of meaning. Turn our hearts so that we might look fully into Jesus’ face and know, without a doubt, that he is the Messiah of your making. Give us the courage and strength to tell others. Amen.

anna

"A Change of Time"

2010-03-15T20:31:00.000-04:00

(Please read John 12:1-8)
Lectionary Lent 5-C

Yesterday, I opened the door to a new time. I stepped out into a new day. The air was crisp and felt clean. The birds were singing in chorus, as joyfully as birds know how to sing as if they knew that "something" was different about the morning; as if they knew that there had been a change of time. They could hardly wait for dawn to break so that they could be the first to burst into song. Yesterday, I opened the door to a new time. There was worship in the air that was different. Was it because of the change of time?

As we read today’s Scriptures, there is this realization within us that there is indeed a change of time. Our Lenten journey toward Jerusalem has stopped for a while. For so many days, we have been in prayer and 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 in this "change of time", this 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 time 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, yesterday there was a change of time. 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 calls for each of us to stop and claim who Jesus is in our life. 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, O God. Change our time. Amen.

anna

"Returning to the Arms of LOVE"

2010-03-08T22:03:00.000-05:00

(Please read Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 The Parable of the Lost Son)
Lectionary Lent 4-C

Oh. the Parable of the Lost (prodigal) Son. How we do love this parable. Perhaps we first heard of this in the Sunday school classes of our childhood. Throughout our lives, sermons have been preached on this teaching. Many of us have read books based on these very words of Jesus and we've gazed at paintings depicting the story. It seems like the spotlight always falls on a dirty, weary, philandering and squandering son collapsing into the arms of a loving father who has dreamed about and waited for this very moment. Always, it seems that the older brother is pictured off in the darkness, in the shadows, staring at his unclean, sinner-of-a-brother returning to the arms of LOVE.

There was a moment, as I first opened the doors to the Chapel of the Prodigal in the beautiful, small mountain town of Montreat, North Carolina, when I heard whispers of this parable that changed my thoughts of it all. There is no where to look in this chapel other than toward the altar wall for it is covered with a fresco depicting the return of the prodigal son to his father. The permanency of the art of fresco itself whispers "Look this way. This is a forever thing." The pigments have become absorbed into the plaster. The fresco has become the wall. For as long as the wall of this chapel stands, the message of the Scriptures embedded in the plaster will forever be seen.

There is a "forever and always" longing and love by a parent for the return of the wayward child. Or at least that is what I saw in the fresco. The father had watched for his child with the eyes of love. He watched for him with such intensity that he saw his beloved son while he was still a long way off. As the artist depicted by painting a robe thrown over the railing of the rooftop, this father was so filled with compassion and joy at the first glimpse of his child returning to him that he ran toward him, leaving his robe behind. Running, baring his ankles, welcoming one who had brought shame to his family. Certainly this was not to be done by any man of respect and honor. But it isn't about the wayward son is it? It's about a forever kind of love. In the silence of the chapel, one might hear God whisper, "I have seen who you were before you turned to me and I have loved you in my waiting. I have seen you look my way and my heart leaps for joy. From far away, I will see you take your first steps back to me and I will run to you. Before you take a breath to utter your well-rehearsed confessions, I will grab you in tight hugs and call for a celebration. You see, I have a love for you that is a forever love."

Oh, have I forgotten the older brother, standing off to the side in the shadows? I wish I could be the middle child in this parable. I've had a life-time of practice at that! I want to say to this older brother of the parable, "You are forgetting, aren't you? You are forgetting what it was like when you too collapsed into the waiting and loving arms of God. You are forgetting. You are forgetting what it was like when you were fitted with God's holy ring of inheritance. You are forgetting. You are forgetting when your weary and once-cold heart was first warmed by the robe of God's love. You are forgetting that God called for a celebration like none other when you came back home. Don't you see, dear brother? You are equally loved.

Yes, Jesus was speaking to the Pharisees and the teachers of the law when sharing this parable. And yes, some of these very same people would stir up the crowds and whisper the words "crucify him" into the ears of the soon-to-be gathered masses. But Jesus is also speaking to us as we continue on our Lenten journey. To both the younger and older brothers (or sisters), and yes, to the middle children as well, Jesus says, "You are loved equally, completely, fully. Return to the arms of LOVE."

O God . We rehearse our words too well, walking back to you, thinking that the words we have put together will make you love us more. But you wait for us, look on the horizon for us, hope for us and love us in spite of who we are. Soon, we will be reminded once more that you have lifted us up from our own dirt and dust and cleansed us. You have left this parable with an open ending, haven't you? Forgive us when we step back into the shadows and fail to welcome others home as you have welcomed them (and us). Forgive us for hearts that would rather attempt to weigh your love than celebrate your love. This day, as your children, remind us that we are indeed your beloved children welcomed into the arms of your great LOVE. Amen.

anna

"Wake Up! Wake Up!"

2010-03-02T06:08:00.000-05:00

(Please read Isaiah 55:1-9)
Lectionary Lent 3-C

It wasn’t because I was struggling for thoughts yesterday that I didn’t write. There were thoughts and words but they were for others. There was a certainty in what was to be shared even in the uncertainty of who would receive and welcome the words. By the end of the evening, I knew some of the why’s. How do I explain that yesterday was an unexplainable Monday morning when the words "Wake up and pray" woke me up? Usually, God speaks to us through our quiet prayer and devotional times, in our worship, in our times of praise or in our moments of sorrow. But in our sleeping? At 1:30 a.m.? "Wake Up! Wake Up!" The request almost shook me awake. I was to wake up and pray. Why? I had no clue! Wake up and pray for what? And, if I didn’t know the "why’s", then WHY wake me up? What is the purpose in it all anyway?

What are we to do when God says, "Wake up and pray"? We are to pray. It’s as simple as that. My response wasn’t without questions, I’m afraid. "Gracious and loving God, why? Why would you have me up so early? So wide awake? For an hour, I have said words of ‘Sleep’ but your single word ‘Pray’ has kept me awake. And so I will pray, if that is the reason why. Why you woke me so abruptly. Why you placed names before me and yet left some unnamed. And so (yawn) I will pray, not knowing the why’s."

Too often, we find ourselves thrown into the same mix with the sleeping disciples. The time of Lent always calls this to our attention as we reread the accounts of the night of Jesus’ betrayal. Jesus says, "Stay here and keep watch", and we fall asleep. He says, "Are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour?" He comes back and finds us sleeping on the job again! And just as with Peter, James and John, we don’t really know what to say to Jesus. "Wake up and pray!" Just maybe the words that awakened me have already been said to the sleeping disciples. "Enough! Rise! Let us go!"

There is something mysteriously beautiful when God wakes us to pray for another. I’m not sure that the importance and sweetness of that moment is to be found in the words of the prayer itself. "Wake up. Wake up and pray", in essence, is God moving us from self-centered prayers to loving others as Jesus loves. God is asking us to place our hearts on the line for another. God nudges us, even shakes us and says, "Wake up and be an encourager today. Wake up and undergird your pastors in prayer. Wake up and pray fervently for your church. Wake up and pray for one who is broken and angry and struggling. There is no need to know the why’s. Just be faithful. Wake Up! Wake up and be faithful!" And maybe, just maybe you will hear something else. "You have done as I have asked. Now rest assured that I have always known the names and needs of my children."

Holy God … You have reminded us over and over again that your thoughts are not ours; neither are your ways our ways. Early morning wake-up calls to pray are certainly not our ways! But you have your purpose, don't you? There are those known only to you who are in need of such early morning prayers. As we yawn and wipe our eyes, awaken our hearts to faithfulness. Awaken our hearts to response. Awaken our hearts to hear your wake-up calls. Thank you, O God, for loving us so much as to wake up others to pray for us when we ourselves struggle for words. Amen.

anna

"Gather Us Up"

2010-02-22T22:01:00.000-05:00

(Please read Luke 13:31-35)
Lectionary Lent 2-C

At some point in my early high school years, I decided that I wanted quail for pets (don’t ask why). I went to the local quail hatchery. My three new babies actually hatched in my hands. I took them home to their cardboard box of a nursery, where I had placed soft shavings, a jar lid filled with water, some quail mash (yes, there is such a thing), and soft cloths to keep them warm. Surely they would fall asleep soon. I was wrong. For nights afterward, I found myself sitting on the floor, holding chicks in my hands so that only their tiny heads could be seen. They needed to feel protected, swaddled, safe and warm.

My quail had to be taught to eat the mash and drink the water. They cried out when the security of my hands was found missing in their lives. These little ones needed names, so I gave them all one name (it was easier to call them). They grew into gangly and very vocal adolescents, wanting freedom. I gave them what they demanded. I began to let them out in the backyard, watching them carefully. They would walk in the grass and fly a bit, testing their wings. Always, when I called their name, they would come back to me. But as they grew, they demanded more freedom. I would release them early in the mornings before I left for school. In the afternoons, I would stand in the yard and call their one name, waiting and hoping for their return. Again, I would call their name and search the skies, longing to see the three fly home to me. And that they did. Every morning there was freedom for my "children". Each afternoon, I longed for their return. Always, there was joy as they were back in the safety of my hands. But then one day, they didn’t return. I found out later that they had trusted too much and befriended a cat. It was a time of tears for those I had once held, sheltered and given their freedom.

Maybe it’s the "mother hen" in me that has longed for the return of her chicks, but in reading Luke 13:31-35, my heart feels so deeply for Jesus at this time in his journey to Jerusalem. He knows. He knows that Jerusalem has wandered into a wilderness that keeps the people from hearing his voice. I should think that we can, at times, fill in our own names into Jesus’ longing and lamenting. Often it is our own singular name. "Oh anna, anna." And just as often, it is our one collective name. "Oh beloved children, beloved children. How often I have longed to gather my children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!" There is this tremendous longing in Jesus for us to come home from our wanderings and those wildernesses that we find ourselves in at times. He calls our names and stands with his sheltering arms open and waiting to gather us in once more. He looks for us on the horizon and longs for us from deep within his heart. What an unimaginable love this proves to be. Soon, at the end of these forty days of Lent, we will once again be reminded just how unimaginable this love is for each of us.

God of the ages, God of the Covenant, God of Love … You are our light and salvation; whom shall we fear? We are pushed into dangerous places and cornered by foxes. We are chased up trees by cats that seek to devour us. But we are your beloved children and if we listen carefully, even in the midst of our own "chirps" and cries for help, we will hear our names being called. Make swift our return to you. Perhaps give us flight back to you. "Oh beloved children, beloved children. How often have I longed to gather you together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings." With these very words, we see your Son stretch out his arms and open his palms, flesh against wood, for us. Saving grace. Forgiveness of our wanderings. The sheltering arms of his unfathomable love. He has longed for us and we for him and we are saved. We give you thanks, O God, for the shelter of your Love. Amen.

anna

"Take a Deep Breath"

2010-02-15T19:57:00.000-05:00

(Please read Psalm 51:1-17 and Luke 4:1-13)
Ash Wednesday and Lectionary Lent 1-C

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 "if’s" and "then’s" 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 "if’s" and "then’s" of the tempter in the wilderness. "If’s" and "then’s" are tempting, sparkling words for sure.

So, let’s take a deep breath and prepare to face the "if’s" and "then’s" 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 "if’s" and "then’s. 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 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 one 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 "if’s" and "then’s". 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.

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 "If’s" and "then’s" 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 your Son … and that will be much different air to breathe. Amen.

anna

Holy Thursday liturgy available

2010-02-09T11:44:00.000-05:00

(I will be glad to share a very simple, beautiful Holy Thursday liturgy that I prepared for Broad Street UMC in 2008. Any pastors or worship team leaders who would care to receive it, please e-mail your request to me at abmurdo@gmail.com)

"Shhh ... Listen!"

2010-02-08T19:55:00.000-05:00

(Please read Luke 9:28-36)
Lectionary Scriptures Epiphany 6-C

Some call it 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 such a time when the Divine Veil has been lifted in your presence. The radiance, the glory, God’s Presence and our deep desire to put a time such as this into immediate words all cause some stammering on our part - even confusion as to what has taken place. At times, I feel as if I have the word "PETER" written across my forehead as my heart wants to blurt out words that will prove themselves to be a jumbled-up mess! 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 to him first before finding your words."

What words does one choose to describe such a holy moment as this? As I read the Scriptures, I wonder such things. How long would I have kept silent? What words would have finally fallen into place to bear witness to something so holy as to 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 share?

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 while. 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. LISTEN TO HIM!" It is the voice of the Most Holy that beckons us to believe in and listen to the Son in a renewed way.

"Shhh … Listen to him! Yes, there are often no complete sentences that can be formed for such a time when Jesus is revealed in a different light to just one or when the Holy Spirit’s Presence fills a sanctuary. And too often we try to share with others before their hearts have been made ready to listen to such radiant words. "Shhh …Listen to him first! See him as he truly is." It is then when stuttering and stammering words form complete sentences as we share what we have seen. Perhaps this period of silence is a good beginning to our Lenten journey for soon we will find ourselves resolutely setting our sights on Jerusalem with Jesus. We will be standing at the foot of the cross. And finally, we will be peering into an empty tomb. All along the way, we will find ourselves in the presence of the Holy. So, 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 for us. O God, 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.

anna

"A Holy Thread Throughout"

2010-02-02T05:57:00.000-05:00

(Please read Isaiah 6:1-8, Psalm 138, 1 Corinthians 15:1-11 and
Luke 5:1-11) Lectionary Scriptures Epiphany 5-C

For those of you who are clergy, the word "call" takes on a very definite, personal meaning, doesn’t it? There was that moment, I’m sure, when you knew that you were to drop every "net" that you tightly grasped. You followed Jesus to the seminary. You now open God’s Word and step into the pulpit to share the Good News with us. Your call is to rejoice where there is rejoicing and stand beside us in our darknesses, to shine light on injustices and help us develop hearts of compassion and strength to stand against such things. OK, so that is the "Cliff Notes" version, an abbreviation of who you are, isn’t it? But at least there is a name to your calling!

It is this title of yours, whether it be "clergy", "pastor", "preacher", "minister", "priest", reverend, etc. (sorry, I didn’t mean to call any of you "etc") that, at times, brings distance between a "call" and those of us in the pews. Each Sunday, we look into the face of one who has been called by God. But do we, as those sitting in the pews, look to each side of us and see disciples? Do we look into the mirror and see the face of one who has been called as well? "Do not be afraid", Jesus says. Over and over again, God speaks throughout the ages, "Do not fear!" But still, many of us fear this word "calling" and the thoughts of such discipleship. Or maybe we dismiss it as not meant for us.

I hope that you have set aside some quiet time to read the suggested Scriptures for this day. It’s important that you do so at some point. You see, there is a thread running throughout them all, tying them together. It is unbreakable. It is a thread that we often overlook when we read the words of a person "called" by God and when we think of our own call to ministry (and yes, we are all called!). Too often, we whisper, "How courageous! What faith! I could never do that!" Yes, there was that moment when a person said, "Here I am, send me" or when nets were dropped and the first steps were taken. But this thread, this unbreakable holy thread that runs throughout these Scriptures is not of our own weaving. The miracle of our calling is not of our own making! It is in God’s power and miracles that we are called to bring a portion of God’s kingdom to this world.

In Isaiah 6, the one who says "Woe is me" is touched by a live coal of forgiveness and then called by the very One whom the seraphs proclaim to be HOLY, HOLY, HOLY. In Psalm 138, we hear the words "The Lord WILL fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever." Paul says, in 1 Corinthians, "But by the grace of God I am what I am …" and in Luke 5, the very Son of God says, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people" (and they left, not knowing where they were going). Again, the miracle of our calling is not within us to make. If it was, we would have it so very neatly planned! The miracle of our calling is that it is God who says to the very ordinary (both clergy and laity), "Step out into the unknown" and we step out into the "wherevers" tied to that holy thread of miracles and promises.

O God … It is you who, by the gift and miracle of grace, prepares us for our calling. You look at us, even in our smallness, even in our very ordinary ways, yes, even in our sinfulness and know that all things can be done through you and you alone. It is you who places courage within us to step out into the unknowns of discipleship. It is truly you who calls our names. Weave throughout our days the holy thread of these miracles, so that we might be strengthened. Thy kingdom come. They will be done. Amen.

anna

"One of Those Moments"

2010-01-26T06:56:00.000-05:00

(Please read Luke 4:14-30)
Lectionary Epipany 3-C and 4-C

There are those times in our lives that are so important, so monumental, that we will forever say "I remember where I was when." For some, it might be the day when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Many of us drew close to the television and watched with a great deal of excitement (and maybe a little fear) as man took his first steps on the moon. Surely, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy was one such moment. The attack on the United States, which has become known as "9/11", has been burned into our hearts forever. All of these memories are very personal eyewitness accounts to be told to others in ways that only you and I can do. All have made imprints on our lives and are too important to be kept to ourselves. And so we usually begin by saying, "It was one of those moments ..."

Take delight in the Scriptures this day! Surely, the eyewitness account of the hearing of Jesus’ proclamation has, in part, changed our lives forever. We are the recipients of a sharing of "one of those moments". Do you remember that moment in your own life? Can you recall where you were? You do? You remember that day when you found yourself sitting in the presence of Jesus, when the scroll was unfurled just for you and when your eyes were suddenly fixed upon him? You remember when you heard Jesus clearly say to you, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in YOUR hearing"? Just as it was with this eyewitness in the synagogue, so it is with each one of us. The sharing of this personal moment between Jesus and you (and me) and the Good News that Jesus proclaims should be shared! It is far too good to keep to ourselves!

I thank God for this nameless eyewitness in the Scriptures. That moment in his life was "one of those moments" for sure. I should think that he told his children and grandchildren, his friends and neighbors of the account of this day in the synagogue with Jesus. Just maybe he began by saying, "I will never forget the day when my eyes fixed upon Jesus. I will never forget what he proclaimed. I will never forget that I truly saw the Fulfillment in person. I must tell you about it." To read further in the Scriptures (Luke 4:22-30), we see that the majority who heard the proclamation of Jesus that day in the synagogue all too quickly turned on him for Jesus' proclamation was that the Good News was for all, even the Gentiles. Too soon, most wanted to hurl Jesus off the nearby cliff. But oh, this eyewitness told of that day as he saw it. The words were written. They were passed from generation to generation. It WAS "one of those moments" that would never be hurled off the cliff by the anger of the others. Just think what your own witness might mean to some – yes, even to generations to come.

God of the Good News, open our eyes that we may see your Son stand before us and around us. Open our ears that we might clearly hear Jesus’ proclamation of good news for the poor, the captives, the blind and the oppressed. Open our hearts and our mouths so that we might tell others of this moment in our own lives when we first heard and believed. How can we keep this to ourselves? We too once suffered from poverty, blindness and oppression of the heart. Oh God, lift us from our pews. Take us by the hand and walk with us out of our sanctuaries and through the crowds of those who want only to hurl Jesus off a cliff. Give us hearts and yes, courage, to become eyewitnesses of your Love and Promise Fulfilled. Amen.

anna

2010-01-23T11:20:00.000-05:00

"A WEDDING IN CANA ?"

(Please read John 2:1-11)

It was on the third day
when a mother heard her son
call her "Woman".
It would not be the last time.

It was on the third day
when people gathered
and with a great thirst
cried out, "What are we to do?"

It was on the third day
when the old ways of cleansing
took on a new look and fragrance.
The very best was spilled out for all.

It was on the third day
when a miracle occurred.
"Enough for everyone"was the miracle.
"Enough of the best for everyone!"

It was on the third day
when the glory of the Lord
was revealed ...
and the disciples believed.

And it was on the third day
when there was a great celebration
at a wedding in Cana ...
and at a tomb in Jerusalem ...
and within us all ...
forever more.

Amen.

(c) 2010 anna murdock

2010-01-23T11:05:00.000-05:00

"And You Too Shall Be Called...."

(Please read Luke 3:15-17,21-22, Matthew 1:22-23)

By now, most of us have packed away all signs of Christmas. The family creche has been gently and safely put away for yet another birth announcement in another year. Wreaths on the doors are the sole reminders of Christmas, 2009. Life is back to normal again. But wait! When we seem to fall back into sameness, God tears the heavens apart once again. Just as the heavens parted at the heavenly-host birth announcement, just as the angels could hardly wait to sing, so it was when God parted the heavens once more and declared, "You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased. The miraculous news of Christmas is again declared! God IS with us!

Oh, how we do stumble and falter and question the "why's" of the baptism of Jesus. Don't worry about the "why's". Be immersed in God's Love! Open your hearts to hear the words that it brings to you. If you have never been told, allow me the joy of telling you now - YOU (yes, you) are beloved by God! What joy! What promise! God IS with us, being pushed forward by the crowds toward the river's bank, immersed in the same waters as all others yet rising to walk on a journey to the cross that will eventually whisper "beloved" to us as well.

Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee to the river Jordan. The hem of his robe was dusty and dirty from the journey. It was the same dust and dirt as was found on the others' robes. He came to stand among them, not apart from them. It is written that"the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem" went out to hear the words spoken by his cousin, John. "Repent", John shouted. "Repent!" The baptizings began. Jesus shuffled along with the pressing crowds. No HELLO, MY NAME IS tag set him apart from those who were waiting to step into the murky waters of the river Jordan on that day. He was one among hundreds. He entered the cool, muddy waters,wading out toward his cousin. Their eyes met. Perhaps, Jesus found that he had to lean closer and whisper with authority, "Baptize me". He was baptized as were the others. There was a peace and quietness under the water that would last for only a few seconds. A quietness that was interrupted by the muffled sounds of the throngs of people standing along the river's edge. Jesus surfaced again. The heavens ripped apart. The Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form "like a dove." And a voice from heaven proclaimed, "YOU are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."

And they shall call him "Immanuel, which means "God with us." THIS is the moment of clarity for us when the birth announcement and the affirmation at Jesus' baptism merge into one great truth. God IS with us.

This moment of affirmation for Jesus at his baptism was about the words of"belovedness" and the holy delight in him that tore the heavens apart with great force. The Holy Spirit settled upon Jesus with the gentleness of a dove and his ministry immediately took flight. This moment branded the name "Beloved" on his heart as he would soon find himself walking among those who shouted names of accusation at him. This very moment placed the name "beloved child" on his lips as he shared this new name with those he has come to walk among. Those then and us now. Just as Jesus was sent out at his baptism, so are we - sent out to tell others, "YOU are a beloved child of God. Nothing can separate you from God's love." Believe it! Reach out and claim your "beloved child" status! Remember your own baptism and keep it holy for it is the gift of the grace of God that is poured over you, dear beloved child that you are!

God of the torn heavens and of gentlenesses, of communal waters and of new names, you have washed us with the waters of your love and said, "It is good". You have renamed us, "beloved child". Knowing this precious truth flows over us like the waters of our baptism, making us gasp for air at the thoughts of such unimaginable Love. With the assurance of this name that we carry, and in your soaking love, give us hearts that want to share your love. Give us opportunities this day and every day to walk alongside others and say, "And you too shall be called beloved." Amen.

(c) 2010 anna murdock