Words of Life

There is a video out on Youtube about a blind man. He is sitting on the sidewalk in a large city. He has placed a tin can in front of him and occasionally someone walking by drops in a coin.  There is a cardboard sign beside him that reads, "Blind. Need help."

The man patiently waits and listens to the sounds of people's feet rushing by, the sound of an occasional coin hitting the other coins in the can. After a few minutes, the man turns his head towards the sound of some high-heeled leather boots as they approach. The boots stop in front of the blind man. He reaches out and touches them, feeling their smooth leather surface. A young woman bends down, but instead of placing a coin in the can, she takes the cardboard sign and turns it over. Then she writes something on it and places it beside the man. She walks away.

Something has changed. Almost all the people passing by are now putting in coins. Some put in many coins at once. Some are stuffing in dollar bills. The man has to empty the can again and again.

Towards evening, the young woman returns. She stops in front of the blind man and he touches her leather boots. She bends down to talk to him.

"What did you write on my sign?" he asks.

"I wrote the same thing that you wrote. Only I used different words," she said.

The camera spans out so that the viewer can read the sign for the first time. It reads, "It is a beautiful day. But I cannot see it."

Words. They have immense power. They can illicit generosity or cut someone to the heart. What comes from your mouth effects not only you but those around you. You influence the course of your life by the words that you choose to use.

Andy was in fifth grade and he was on top of the world. He was swinging in the park beside Celeste, one of the prettiest girls in school. They were swinging higher and higher. "I am the king of the world!" he thought to himself. "I am smart, I am handsome and I am swinging with the prettiest girl in school!"

Celeste turned to look at him as they were swinging. And then she said it.

"You have an ugly profile."

Andy did not know what a profile was but he hated the word ugly. "What is a profile?" he asked.

"It is how you look from the side. You have a big nose," she said.

 

Andy swung lower and lower. He got off the swing and ran home, rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He had always thought he was handsome, but he had never looked at himself from the side. He turned his head. Sure enough, his nose stuck way out.

YOU HAVE AN UGLY PROFILE.

The words would stick in his mind for YEARS. The silly words of a fifth grade girl. And from that day forward, Andy never thought of himself as handsome again.

Words can redefine a person. They can drag you down. They can build you up.  But in our rush to get our words out, to accomplish more and say more, we forget that every single word we speak or write is full of power.

King Solomon was able to build an incredible temple to worship God. The Hebrew people had never dared to build a temple before. Yahweh was too vast, too mighty to be contained in a building. The reason that Solomon was able to accomplish this immense task was because of a promise that God had made to his father, David. God spoke to David, telling him that his son would build a temple. And these words were what made it possible for Solomon to conceive of such a thing. Solomon was given a word of encouragement from God.

What are the words that you speak to your loved ones? Do you build them up or do you tear them down? Do you realize the power of your words?

Jesus' words were so powerful that they could change lives. He spoke what he called "words of eternal life." These words could cause people to leave their work and their families behind and follow him. His words could provoke anger and hatred, even the desire to kill him. His words have echoed through the centuries, changing the lives of millions. To this day, we steep ourselves in the words of Scripture to ground ourselves and listen to God.

A pastor named Craig wrote about his life as a newly ordained minister. One day, a young man came to see him in his office. The young man was severely depressed. Craig had never witnessed someone in so much mental pain. He asked the young man, "Do you think about dying?"

The young man said, "Yes, all the time. All I can think of, over and over again, is how I should be dead. I don't deserve to be alive."

Craig was stunned. He had never heard such self-loathing before. "Please, God," he prayed. "Help me to find the words to say to this man..."

Craig jumped up and ran to his desk. He got out a piece of paper. "I am going to write numbers one to a hundred on this piece of paper. I want you to tell me one hundred reasons why it is good that you are alive; one hundred reasons why it is good for you to be here. I will sit with you for as long as it takes for us to do this."

The young man looked like a deer in headlights. "But I can't think of one thing!" he said.

"Yes, you can! Just start with one thing. One thing!!"

"I can write," the man said quietly.

"Great work!!" Craig cried.

Craig encouraged and coaxed and begged. Finally, after almost three hours, they had a list of one hundred things. The man left his office and Craig did not hear from him again. He prayed for this man every day for years. He did not know whether the man was dead or alive.

After almost ten years, Craig ran into the man in the grocery store. He told Craig that he was married, that he had a job. With tears in his eyes, he pulled out of his wallet a worn and crumpled piece of paper. It was the list of 100 things. He had kept it all this time.

Hold onto the words of life that are given to you. Pay attention that you do not utter words of hatred to yourself or others. If you do, fight those words of hatred with the Word of God, the Word of Life. 
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth by speaking words. God said, "Let there be light!" And it was so. Words are the stuff of life itself, the stuff of creativity.

 

So my question to you is this: what will you say?

The Words of Life

There is a video out on youtube about a blind man. He is sitting on the sidewalk in a large city. He has placed a tin can in front of him and occasionally someone walking by will drop in a coin. There is a cardboard sign beside him that reads, "Blind. Need help."

The man patiently waits and listens to the sounds of people's feet rushing by, the sound of an occasional coin hitting the other coins. After a few minutes, the man turns his head towards the sound of some high-heeled leather boots as they approach. The boots stop in front of the blind man. He reaches out and touches them, feeling their smooth leather surface. A young woman bends down, but instead of placing a coin in the can, she takes the cardboard sign and turns it over. Then she writes something on it and places it beside the man. She walks away.

Something has changed. Almost all the people passing by are now putting in coins. Some put in many coins at once. Some are stuffing in dollar bills. The man has to empty the can again and again.

Towards evening, the young woman returns. She stops in front of the blind man and he touches her leather boots. She bends down to talk to him.

"What did you write on my sign?" he asks.

"I wrote the same thing that you wrote. Only I used different words," she said.

The camera spans out so that the viewer can read the sign for the first time. It reads, "It is a beautiful day. But I cannot see it."

Words. They have immense power. They can illicit generosity or cut someone to the heart. What comes from your mouth effects not only you but those around you. You influence the course of your life by the words that you choose to use.

Andy was in fifth grade and he was on top of the world. He was swinging in the park beside Celeste, one of the prettiest girls in school. They were swinging higher and higher. "I am the King of the world!" he thought to himself. "I am smart. I am handsome and I am swinging with the prettiest girl in school!"

Celeste turned to look at him as they were swinging. And then she said it.

"You have an ugly profile."

Andy did not know what a profile was but he hated the word ugly. "What is a profile?" he asked.

"It is how you look from the side. You have a big nose," she said. Andy swung lower and lower. He got off the swing and ran home, rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He had always thought he was handsome but he had never looked at himself from the side. He turned his head. Sure enough, his nose stuck way out.

YOU HAVE AN UGLY PROFILE.

The words would stick in his mind for YEARS. The silly words of a fifth grade girl. And from that day forward, Andy never thought of himself as handsome again.

Words can redefine a person. They can drag you down. They can build you up. But in our rush to get our words out, to accomplish more and say more, we forget that every single word we speak or write or email or text, every word is full of power.

King Solomon was able to build an incredible temple to worship God. The Hebrew people had never dared to build a temple before. Yahweh was too vast, too mighty to be contained in a building. The reason that Solomon was able to accomplish this immense task was because of a promise that God had made to his father, David. God spoke to David, telling him that his son would build a temple. And these words were what made it possible for Solomon to conceive of such a thing. Solomon was given a word of encouragement from God.

What are the words that you speak to your loved ones? Do you build them up or do you tear them down? Do you realize the power of your words?

Jesus' words were so powerful that they could change lives. He spoke what he called "words of eternal life." These words could cause people to leave their work and their families behind and follow him. His words could provoke anger and hatred, even the desire to kill him. His words have echoed through the centuries, changing the lives of millions. To this day, we steep ourselves in the words of Scripture to ground ourselves and listen to God.

A pastor named Craig writes about his life as a newly ordained minister. One day, a young man came to see him in his office. The young man was severely depressed. Craig had never witnessed someone in so much mental pain. He asked the young man, "Do you think about dying?"

The young man said yes, all the time. He said, "All I can think, over and over again, is how I should be dead. I don't deserve to be alive."

Craig was stunned. He had never heard such self-loathing before. "Please, God," he said. "Help me to find the words to say to this man..."

Craig jumped up and ran to his desk. He got out a piece of paper. "I am going to write numbers one to a hundred on this piece of paper. I want you to tell me one hundred reasons why it is good that you are alive, one hundred reasons why it is good for you to be here. I will sit with you for as long as it takes for us to do this."

The young man looked like a deer in headlights. "But I can't think of one thing!" he said.

"Yes, you can! Just start with one thing. One thing!!"

"I can write," the man said quietly.

"Great work!!" Craig cried.

Craig encouraged and coaxed and begged. Finally, after almost three hours, they had a list of one hundred things. The man left his office and Craig did not hear from him again. He prayed for this man every day for years. He did not know whether the man was dead or alive.

After almost ten years, Craig ran into the man in the grocery store. He told Craig that he was married, that he had a job. With tears in his eyes, he pulled out of his wallet a worn and crumpled piece of paper. It was the list of 100 things. He had kept it all this time.

Hold onto the words of life that are given to you. Hold onto them and repeat them to yourself, for they are words of life. Pay attention that you do not utter words of hatred to yourself or others. If you do hear hateful words, fight those words of hatred with the Word of God, the Word of Life. Read Scripture, repeat it to yourself. Use it as armor against the hatred which can be thrown at you at any moment.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth by speaking words. God said, "Let there be light!" And it was so. Words are the stuff of life itself, the stuff of creativity.

So my question to you is this: what will you say?

Wishing for Wisdom

When I was a little girl, I used to be fascinated with the story of Aladdin. I loved how he found a magic lamp and when he rubbed the lamp, a genie would pop out and grant him three wishes. I would play the genie game over again with my cousins. We would rub the lamp and the genie would pop out and the question was always, "What do you wish?"

In a similar way, God visited King Solomon thousands of years ago. His father David died after forty years on the throne. Solomon assumed the throne of a thriving, united kingdom. He was a good man, a solid man, careful and humble. He was so beloved of God and of the people, that God came to him to grant him a wish.

"Solomon, what is the one thing that you would ask of me? Ask and I will grant it." God says.

What would you ask for if you were Solomon, if God would come to you and ask you for anything? What is your hearts desire?

Solomon asks for something incredibly profound. He asks for discernment, for the ability to see and to understand. Solomon wants to be able to distinguish between good and evil. He wants to see more clearly.

The word for wisdom in the ancient Hebrew means to hear, to take in, to perceive. The Hebrew understanding of wisdom does not have anything to do with what you know or how many facts you can keep in your head. For the Hebrews, wisdom has to do with how well you can see.

When Mike May was three years old, a chemical explosion left him completely blind. He did not want his blindness to prevent him from living fully so he became the best blind downhill speed skier in the world. He married, had children and even ran a successful business. Forty-three years after his accident, he heard about a new surgical procedure that would restore his sight. Even though he had a full life, Mike could not wait to see again. He decided to have the surgery.

His family and friends decided to film Mike on the moment that they took the bandages off his eyes. His boys were going to walk towards him and he was going to see their faces for the first time in his life. They would record his reactions on film.

Everyone thought that it would be the most beautiful moment, when a father looks on the faces of his children, but something was off. Mike had a pleasant but forced smile on his face as his children approached him. There was a major problem. Although Mike's eyes were working properly, he was staring with total puzzlement at the world around him. His brain did not know what to make of the barrage of information, colors, shapes, light. Although his eyes were functioning, he could not make sense of what he was seeing. He could not see.

Think about it. Mike was like a newborn baby, taking in all this stuff at once. And he had learned by touching that walls move in a straight line so how was he to make sense of the fact that lines converged at a distance because of something called perspective? He had to learn how to interpret what his eyes were telling him.

We open our eyes most of the day. We take in images, sounds, but these impressions then go into our brains where they are interpreted. And if we are not careful, our brains do not truly see. Especially when we are viewing places that we frequent or loved ones whose faces we know well, we tend to forget to look. Our brain says, yes, I know that one, check. And we do not see clearly.

What Solomon asked was for the ability to open his mind to new input, to take in each new moment with fascination and with objectivity. He wanted to be able to see the difference between light and darkness, goodness and evil. He believed that this kind of careful observation was the essence of wisdom.

That means that if we want to be wise, we should not be so certain. Instead we should look with fresh eyes at everything each day, at our loved ones, at the events of our lives, at the tiniest flower, and with each new perspective, we should wonder what God is saying to us.

One of my favorite quotations of all time was spoken by a Hindu sage. When talking to his student, he said, "Don't seek God, see God,"

The question is not whether or not God exists, the question is whether or not you can perceive God. Or have you already made up your mind about how your life is working? Certainty, predictability, these things are comforting, but they are not so good for the spiritual life. For they tend to put us to sleep. Wisdom rests in the ability to stay awake and to look with fresh eyes at the world that God has made, the world that God has asked us to care for.

Jesus tells us that this stuff we eat up here at the altar is his body and blood. What does that mean? How can we open our eyes to what he was trying to tell us? Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of this gift and I cannot believe it, I cannot imagine something more generous, more beautiful that for God to give us a portion of His/Her very self.

If we could only see what it is that we have got here, what has been given to us, then there would be no evangelism, people would be lining the streets trying to get in here, to get some of the break, a sip of the wine, a portion of the very presence of God.

Years ago, a three-year-old girl in one of my parishes got busy in the nursery playing. She was so intent on her dolls and so happy that he mom decided not to disrupt her and did not bring her to communion. When the service was over and her mom went to get her, she started to weep uncontrollably. She could hardly get a word out. Finally, she sobbed, "I MISSED MUNION!!"

I heard her crying over missing "MUNION" and I was thrilled. We went to the tabernacle and got her some of the reserve sacrament and all the while, I was thinking, "This little one sees something here, she really sees something." I wish that that grow ups would cry when they missed MUNION.

Open your eyes. Do you see what has been given to you? It is too bright, too good to take in at once.

Sometimes, I wonder if angels and archangels are dancing right in front of our eyes, but we cannot see them because we have not yet learned how to open our eyes.

What would I wish for? It's right here, at this altar. I would wish to take communion with you.

Thou shalt not Covet

Today we return to King David. The greatest of all the kings of Israel, he ruled in Jerusalem and had everything that any man could ask for. He had multiple wives, treasures beyond imagining, he had power and prestige and respect and honor. He had more than a human being needs, more belongings, more physical intimacy, more children more everything. It is not good for a person to have everything that they want. It is not good for the soul, for we forget that we are human. We forget that we are limited, and our desire becomes larger than life. And desire, if left undisciplined, can become monstrous. Desire can turn into covetousness.

It can be unbearably hot in Jerusalem, so hot that one has to go outdoors searching for some kind of relief, some gentle breeze. David is on his rooftop seeking cool air. The rooftop of the king was the highest place in the city. From David's roof, you could see just about everything in the city. And below him, in plain sight, a beautiful woman was bathing.

It was her time of the month and because of the heat, she decided to bathe on the roof. And she was beautiful. And David wanted her.

One of the ten commandments is this: thou shalt not covet. It comes right alongside thou shalt not steal and thou shalt not commit murder. It is that important. Coveting is more than just wanting, it is when you begin to nurture the want, when you begin to wallow in your desire and listen to it as more than just a passing fancy. To covet is to massage the desire of something that you do not need, something that in fact belongs to someone else. And from the moment that you nurture that desire and take it seriously and obsess about it and give it energy, you have begun to hurt yourself and others.

David covets Bathsheeba. Instead of mastering his desire and saying no to what was not freely given, he begins to think these kind of thoughts:

I deserve her.

I need her.

It's not that bad. It's understandable.

I will not be Ok without her.

And his lust is massaged into a coveting, and from there it is a short step to adultery. From adultery, when she becomes pregnant, David moves on to basically murder her husband by placing him in the frontline of battle. You see, true sin has a snowball effect. One small lie becomes larger and larger until you are wreaking havoc on your life and the lives of others.

And David is so unaware of the horrors that he has committed that he does not even recognize a story that the prophet tells him about his very own actions. He is so wrapped up in his own needs and wants that he cannot see himself clearly. He has become so obsessed with his own needs that he becomes blind to his own sin.

I am grateful to live in this country. I think that it is the best country in the world. When I watch the Olympics, I cry and cheer and laugh and I am so proud of the USA. But as a people, we covet perhaps more than any other people in world history.

Our entire nation is built on desire. Commercials and billboards are designed to get us to want more, to buy more, to actually begin to believe that we need more. You need a big Mac. You need a manicure. My hairdryer broke this week and I said to myself, I need a hairdryer. Then I realized, do I really NEED one or do I just WANT one? Up to 50 years ago, most women did not have them here in America. Most women still do not have them. But buying a hairdrier that I may not need is not coveting. It is unnecessary but it is not directly harmful. But desire can easily slip into covetousness if we begin to think that we need something that will hurt us or something that belongs to another. Our covetousness leads us to believe that we NEED alcohol or drugs or sex or money, when these items should not be ours. That is when we become so wrapped up in our desires that we forget who we really are. That is when temptation becomes covetousness.

What are your true needs and what are your wants? Some of us don't want stuff, what we want is for people to agree with us, to think like us. So we fuss and argue and publish and protest in an effort to get everyone to think like us, when in reality, we do not need that. We become obsessed with the religious right or the liberal left and we spend all our time trying to get the other to think like us. Meanwhile, we lose our integrity in the process. We forget kindness and respect and openness to diversity of opinion. The world is much richer because we disagree. Do you really want to make everyone agree with you?

Or maybe you covet being liked. Many a life has been ruined by that false desire. For trying to get everyone to like you is virtually impossible and you will die trying.

This past week, I spent 5 days at a Trappist Monastery. We ate simply. We did not speak unless we were praying. We even woke up at 4 am to pray at one of 5 prayer services a day. I must admit that it was hard. I felt like sleeping in or dancing or yelling or just missing a service or two. I got mad at the monks for being so serious and thought of rushing out to buy ice cream (I know, I'm such a party-animal!) Late one night, I even watched movie previews on my iPad. But the moments of frustration were worth it, for I began to experience something infinitely richer than ice cream or movies.

I brought few clothes, no hair-dryer, some books. I felt like there was very little standing between me and God, just my own worries and my tempting laptop. I saw a turtle swimming in a pond and could not believe how beautiful he was. I ran outside to watch the rain fall at a coming thunderstorm and it was better than a great movie. I found a richness I have been missing. A richness that I can touch only here, with you at this altar. There was something much better there. And that something was so simple.

Jesus said, I am the Bread of Life. I am everything that you have ever longed for and will ever need. Right here, at this altar, God is giving you EVERYTHING you NEED.

So take your hunger, your lust, your desire for perfection, take your need to be liked, your need to fix the world, your need to always get along and refocus those desires on God and God alone. Until you do that, you will never be fulfilled. Bathsheebas are all over the place in this world, making you think that you must have them, that you cannot live without them. We must learn to master those desires that turn our attention from God and refocus on the bread of life.

What if we stopped coveting and started feasting on the true bread? Then the power of this Cathedral would be truly unleashed and we could change this city for the good. All of us, together. Then we could really live.

On Baptism

I am on retreat at a Trappist monastery. The place is so beautiful and so peaceful but it is full of boundaries. Signs boldly instruct: do not enter, silence at all times, exit by this door. It seems strange that a place called by God to welcome the stranger would be so full of boundaries and limits.

Because of my inability to enter the cloister where the monks spend the majority of their time, that place seems mysterious to me. I wonder what is behind the wall. I wanted to see, to touch, to be one of them.

The yearning for God is part of the Christian life. The inability to attain all that we want exactly when we want it is part of our fallen world. All humans yearn for what we cannot have. It is vital to occasionally say no to a child when you are parenting or that child will become troubled when they encounter the difficulties and challenges of the real world. They must understand that human life has limitations and requirements, that discipline is to be embraced.

The early Christians trusted in baptism as the initiation to the Christian faith. Catechumens or learners of the faith were told to leave after the Peace. They were not even allowed to see the consecration of the body and blood of Christ. The priest would shout, "The doors! The doors!" The catechumens would be escorted out and the doors were literally shut in their faces. The initiation process was difficult and time-consuming. They studied and fasted for forty days before their baptisms on Easter as the sun rose. And yet, the church grew and grew, for people long to be given a goal, a way to come closer to God.

We no longer close the doors of church to the unbaptized. We no longer ask more than just a simple meeting with a priest or perhaps a class prior to baptism. We invite all people to the altar rail and give the unbaptized a blessing. It has become so easy to receive the body and blood of Christ. I wonder, did the early Christians, in asking their new converts to work so hard to be baptized, give them a clearer understanding of the immensity of the gift that they were about to receive?

Now the Episcopal Church is considering open communion. We would give communion to all, without requiring anything, without baptism. This is born of a loving instinct, to include all people, not to judge, to love all. But what are the eventual ramifications of this? Will we be handing out communion to those who do not want to take the time to come to church at all? Will we do fast food Eucharists or drive-through communion, for those who cannot take the time but deserve it just as much as those who attend church? Where will we draw the line?

The word sacred or holy in the ancient Hebrew means set apart. The sacred has been set apart from the beginning of recorded human history, as a sign that God, though present in all things, transcends the ordinary and the mundane. That is why churches have been built, as signs of the holy presence of God, set apart and uplifted.

If we want to show Christ's love to the world, we must ask ourselves, "Does love always say yes? Does love never ask for discipline? Does love have no boundaries?" Americans resent being asked to wait, to yearn, to long for something. But perhaps holding up baptism as a rite of entry into the Christian life, though frustrating for many, increases our understanding of the need for humans to make a visible commitment to God. I know that many of the devout in my congregation long to be given requirements, long to be told how to become a member of the church and what is expected of them if they do. "What must I do?" they ask. "How can I draw closer to God?"

I will never forget the face of a young woman who waited all of Lent to be baptized at the Easter Vigil. At the moment of her communion, she experienced the holy, for she was invited to participate in something set apart. She had waited for communion, just as we wait for the coming of Christ in Advent. Her waiting itself was holy. She was truly included in the body of Christ and she was able to catch a glimpse of the immensity of that gift.

If boundaries and requirements are not loving, then the Trappist monks are not loving, for I have never seen as many rules as I do here. And I have never experienced such love as I do here, standing behind a cloistered wall, yearning to come inside.