I am grateful that I have to wear a black shirt and a collar every day to work because I have absolutely no style at all. If I had to put together an outfit every day, it would be a nightmare for me.
My husaband and I have a running joke. If I step out of the closet and ask him, "Does this work?" The answer is always, "NO." In fact, these days JD won't even look up from what he is doing. If I step out of the closet and ask him if an outfit works, he will say no without even looking up.
In all the years that I have been a priest, about once a month or so, someone will ask to speak with me in private. They will tell me about a miracle that occurred to them. One woman told how she saw a strange man across a crowded room some seventy years ago and she heard a voice say, "That is your husband." And they did marry and stayed married for over sixty years. Another woman was widowed in her thirties with two small children. She stopped at a traffic light one day, feeling completely lost and overwhelmed, and a presence of peace came over her, a peace like nothing she had ever felt before.
People tell me these incredible stories that they don't dare mention to anyone else and then they ask me the same question,
"Was that God?"
And my answer is always, "YES!"
In fact, I don't even need to hear their stories anymore. The answer is always YES.
The season of the Holy Spirit is approaching. Pentecost. It is a season of great mystery, of wild miracles and people who speak in tongues. But we have become shy when it comes to speaking of the Holy Spirit. We worry that people will think we are mentally unstable or somehow medieval. We are afraid to name God's activity among us for fear of being judged by others.
In Peter's day, it was not embarrassing to name God's presence. It was considered an honor to be visited by God. So Peter spoke openly about his visions and his faith in Jesus. He loved to speak of the Holy Spirit.
A friend of mine lost her grandson when he was just 15 years old. He loved to play golf. His name was Chris. Every year, on the day of his death, his family plays a round of golf. It is their way of celebrating his life.
This year, it was pouring down rain when the grandmother and her son (the boy's father) found themselves trying to play golf. They both felt like fools. They could hardly see the ball. Chris' dad teed up and promptly hit the ball into a pond. So they went over to the pond, already sopping wet, to fish out the ball.
Chris' dad managed to salvage the ball from the pond, but he just stood there looking at it. His mom came over to see what was wrong. Without a word, he handed her the ball. There, written in someone's handwriting was his name, Chris.
Name it-The Holy Spirit. It is God's activity among us. It is the idea that just pops into your head from nowhere. It is the math problem that you couldn't solve that just seems to resolve itself in your mind in your sleep. It is running into just the person you needed to see. It is the smile on the face of your loved ones. Name it!
Don't be afraid to name it. You are not crazy. You are just Christian.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The Pruning
Every branch that bears fruit, I will prune back...
The Gospel of John
This past Saturday, the clouds parted for a few hours and I began to plant some flowers. I have this tiny garden in our front lawn, under the shade of a tree. There is a statue of St. Francis and I like to surround him with flowers each spring. A friend of our, Felix, who is 8, helped me plant.
Unfortunately, the flat of flowers sat there for one week before I had the time to plant them. The flowers had grown tall and spindly. In order to keep them healthy, I had to prune them, cutting off the flowers and planting the green stems. Felix was perplexed.
"Luke's mom," he said. "Why are you cutting off all the pretty stuff?"
I had to explain to Felix about the pruning process. "I have to cut these flowers off so that the plants will be healthy and eventually make more flowers," I said.
That's what Jesus does sometimes. He prunes us. He prunes back those branches that bear fruit. His followers who love him and who are genuinely are trying to follow him--he prunes us back. And we never really understand why.
A lady in our parish had to move into assisted living this week. The process nearly did her in. She refused to leave, went on a hunger strike, beggged and cried. But our deacon finally convinced her. It was time for her to be pruned back. She had to get rid of many of her belongings in order to prepare her soul for God. It was so hard for her to say goodbye to so many keepsakes and memories, but she did it in the end. And now she is enjoying herself in her new space.
Consider that some of the hardship you endure is really a pruning back. Suffering is not the enemy. Often, it makes us grow. We may never fully understand what God is trying to do with us, not in this life, but we can use our suffering as a way of learning and become stronger.
My flowers are doing well. Some new buds have come out, tiny ones that will take awhile to bloom. They are coming.
The Gospel of John
This past Saturday, the clouds parted for a few hours and I began to plant some flowers. I have this tiny garden in our front lawn, under the shade of a tree. There is a statue of St. Francis and I like to surround him with flowers each spring. A friend of our, Felix, who is 8, helped me plant.
Unfortunately, the flat of flowers sat there for one week before I had the time to plant them. The flowers had grown tall and spindly. In order to keep them healthy, I had to prune them, cutting off the flowers and planting the green stems. Felix was perplexed.
"Luke's mom," he said. "Why are you cutting off all the pretty stuff?"
I had to explain to Felix about the pruning process. "I have to cut these flowers off so that the plants will be healthy and eventually make more flowers," I said.
That's what Jesus does sometimes. He prunes us. He prunes back those branches that bear fruit. His followers who love him and who are genuinely are trying to follow him--he prunes us back. And we never really understand why.
A lady in our parish had to move into assisted living this week. The process nearly did her in. She refused to leave, went on a hunger strike, beggged and cried. But our deacon finally convinced her. It was time for her to be pruned back. She had to get rid of many of her belongings in order to prepare her soul for God. It was so hard for her to say goodbye to so many keepsakes and memories, but she did it in the end. And now she is enjoying herself in her new space.
Consider that some of the hardship you endure is really a pruning back. Suffering is not the enemy. Often, it makes us grow. We may never fully understand what God is trying to do with us, not in this life, but we can use our suffering as a way of learning and become stronger.
My flowers are doing well. Some new buds have come out, tiny ones that will take awhile to bloom. They are coming.
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