"THE MISSING ANGEL" (an angel in need of repair and cleansing?)

This morning the sanctuary 

was flooded with a bright sunlight

like I had never seen before.

The memories of the elders

could not recall such light either

for the stained glass angel

that pointed heavenward,

was the oldest window

in the sanctuary,

moved into place

over 100 years ago

and had always provided

a warm color in this place.
The angel is missing today
and in its place,
clear glass.

The bright light

of the September morning’s sun

was alarming at first

as it poured into the sanctuary.

It made me feel uncomfortable

and somewhat vulnerable

as if the colors from

the stained glass

had always been

a cloak for me …

or a shield of protection.

“You might notice

that the Tiffany angel 

is missing.

It is being cleaned 

and repaired

and will be back in place soon” 

came the announcement

from the pulpit.

I wanted to respond 

by saying,

“Ummm, excuse me …

I didn’t know angels

were EVER in need 

of cleaning and repair!”

It was then when I remembered

that the stories of the 

stained glass windows -

of the Good Shepherd 

and the Road to Emmaus,

of the Resurrection and

this lovely old angel

pointing to God -

are reminders 

of what we are to share

outside of the walls

of this sanctuary.

Perhaps the clear glass

with the sunlight streaming

into the sanctuary

in such a startling way

tells a story just as important

as the other windows tell  …

“See … there …look outside…

there is a world beyond the

stained glass that needs to

hear the good news of

God’s Great Love!”

And those of us

who heed this sunlight,

will point to God

(as does this missing angel)

with our own words

and actions

and love

and we too will risk

becoming dirty 

and in need of repair.

In the promise of God’s

repairing and cleansing Grace,

may we respond 

to the Light that 

that beckons us to

the world outside of the walls.

And yes, angels do become dirty

and in need of repair …

SO BE PREPARED!

(9-11-16 Broad Street UMC / Statesville, NC)

"Oh Woman, Dear Nameless Woman" (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, 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 their 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

such a glorious name

and this man,

the one they call Jesus,

has seen your faith, 

even in your crippled posture.

What a beautiful name you now have!

(c) 2013  anna murdock

"Early Summer Mornings" (Aug, 13-15, 2016)

I thought it odd

that the early hours

of my Saturday morning

were silent and still.

There were no cautious sounds

in the trees …

sounds that a sentinel might make, 

moving into guarded position.

Perhaps it was the heat

of the summer’s morn.

I thought it odd

that the pre-dawn hours

of my Monday morning

were silent and still.

Was it was too early or dark

to be noticed by them?

I tried to be quiet

as I packed my car

so as not to alarm

the self-appointed

guards of the trees.

And, as I think back, 

it was odd

that sandwiched between

the silence of Saturday morning

and the silence of Monday morning,

there was Sunday morning …

there was urgent rustling and a

loud “CAW, CAW” 

and the response from far off

of “CAW, CAW” …

repeated again and again and again.

Just maybe the crows 

knew the difference 

and provided

the neighborhood with their own

Sunday’s Call to Worship!

(or is it  Caw to Worship?)

To them, it was not odd at all.

LACE and GRACE

Yesterday, I remembered

those summer days 

of my childhood …

those days that

brought out the best

of a mother and daughter

and Queen Anne’s Lace.

“Go out and play,” she would say

and I found myself running 

to the empty field.

At times, it was the

kite-flying field.

Other times, it was the

tag-playing field.

And still other times,

it was a baseball field,

beckoning very young, giggly players,

to run through weeds

toward imaginary bases.

But on a perfect day

the field would be filled

with Queen Anne’s Lace.

The little boys wanted 

nothing to do with such things

as flowers

so the field was mine.

No kites … 

no shouts of “Tag, you’re it” …

no giggles or the shouts of

“Run, run, runnnnnn!”

I was alone in a field of beauty.

Alone with flowers to be picked.

Many consider these flowers

to be weeds, 

but not me and not my mother.

At the sight of my bouquets of

Queen Anne’s Lace,

my mother would fill jars 

with water tinted by food coloring.

The stems of “lace” were divided

and I would put them in the jars,

knowing how thirsty they were.

Yellow, blue, red, green water.

The jars looked like stained glass.

And soon, the white flowers of 

Queen Anne’s Lace would 

become the colors of the water.

"Drink, for you are thirsty!

Drink, and become even more beautiful!

Drink, and be filled!"

This morning, I will think

of Lace and Grace as I,

along with many others,

receive Holy Communion.

"Drink, for you are thirsty!

Drink, and become even more beautiful!

Drink, and be filled!

Drink, and become the colors of Christ

   in this world!

Drink, for not one of you

is a weed!"

LACE and GRACE.

A 'Thy Kingdom Come' Prayer For These Days

God of Grace and Mercy ... the world that you have placed into our care has been shattered by the sounds of gunshots, by the hearts of those who hate, by the sobs of the grieving and by the cries of the world.  What has happened to us?  Have you become a convenience to us, to be called upon only in times such as these?  Have we forgotten the ways of your Love?  Forgive us.  O God, we cry out to you in ways that hardly seem like prayers. Embrace the families and friends of those who have died by the hands of another as well as those who were wounded by those same hands.  Embrace also those who have been wounded by words. Pour out your healing and loving Spirit into their lives and into our world.  Change us ... change us.

Now, as we sit in our silence and even in your moments of silence, our hearts weep with you, O God, and with all those whose lives have forever been changed by hate. We are gasping.  Help us to breathe again. We pray for love and respect to overcome hate and disregard in this world. Move us to look the way of others. Draw us near to one another and even nearer to you. Open our hearts to listen to the stories of others. Open our eyes to see through your Love. Make us your agents of love and peace. We lift our lives and our world to you, God of Love, for we stumble and fall so often in our own efforts. We pray that your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

"Help Me to Be an Oxymoron" (Luke 10:25-37)

Good Samaritan.

I searched 

and the word

‘oxymoron’

doesn’t appear

in my Bible.

Good Samaritan.

It’s much like 

jumbo shrimp

or freezer burn,

you know.

The two words

don’t seem to go together

for we read

that there is nothing good 

about a Samaritan.

But maybe, just maybe

that which Jesus asks

from each of us

is to become an oxymoron!

Perhaps Jesus' teachings and example

proclaim that two opposites

will become kingdom words.

O God …

help me to be 

an oxymoron.

A generous giver.

A compassionate Christian.

A loving neighbor.

A good Samaritan.

"You Want Me to Say WHAT????" (ponderings on Luke 10:25-37)

My Grandmother Lazenby never said the word 'Vinegar'.  At least my mother can’t remember her ever saying the word.  As grandchildren, we would try to teach her how to say it.  "Say the name RENEGAR, Grandmommy", we would say (knowing that she knew how to say that surname).   "Renegar", she would say, just as pretty as you please.  "Say the name VERNIE", we giggled. "Vernie", she said.   "Now say the word VINEGAR.  Her lips shut tightly and she would look at us. Then she would say, "Sour Stuff" and walk away.  I thought for sure she would say the word 'Vinegar' if I asked.  But noooooo.  She refused, never admitting she couldn't (or wouldn't) and never telling us why.  She just couldn't choke out the word 'Vinegar'.

As I read the interchange between Jesus and the lawyer (with the story of the Good Samaritan thrown into the middle), I feel as if this lawyer is doing what my grandmother did except for a different reason.  The way that Jesus draws the lawyer into answering his own question is masterful.  Then the lawyer tries to put parameters around the word 'neighbor' hoping that Jesus' response would be a comfortable definition of 'neighbor'.

The story of the Good Samaritan, to me, is secondary.  Jesus tells the story and then asks the lawyer another question.  "Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?"

And here is where I can almost hear my grandmother clam up when asked to say 'Vinegar' ... and then says, "Sour Stuff."  Can't you just hear the lawyer answering Jesus? "The Smmmm.  The Sammmmm.  The, the, the ... the one who showed him mercy."  He couldn't even say 'Samaritan'. So why do we think that this lawyer could love a Samaritan if a Samaritan proved to be his 'neighbor'?   Hmmmmmm.

Grandmommy never said 'Vinegar'.  She refused.  I hope that our friend, the lawyer, at least tried to say the word 'Samaritan', tried to look the way of such a neighbor, tried to move toward loving his neighbors.   We don't know beyond Jesus' words of "Go and do likewise".  We can only hope ... for we are more like this lawyer than we would care to admit at times.