3rd Saturday in Lent

"It is vain for you to rise up early,
to sit up late,
to eat the bread of sorrows:
for so he giveth his beloved sleep." Psalm 127

As you can see from this Psalm, God encourages us to sleep late on Saturday mornings. Even she rested. Thus my delay in getting today's meditation out is entirely justified by scripture.

Its raining very hard this morning in Dallas. We needed it, not nearly enough rain has fallen this year and it was showing. Spring storms are as big a part of Dallas as football in the fall, well maybe not quite as big, but you get the point.

I'm listening the rolling thunder and the rain pounding on the roof and I remember how much I used to fear thunderstorms when I was young. I lay in my bed and counted after each lightning strike, growing more and more terrified as the thunder got closer and closer. Now I enjoy the sound, its almost comforting. I understand thunderstorms, I understand their purpose in sustaining life on earth.

There are many thing that you fear as a child that you cease to fear as you come to understand them. Part of that understanding is a trust in God, a belief that he will protect me from harm.

What have you feared in the past that you no longer fear thanks to God. What do you still fear now? Will a closer trust in God allay that fear?

Walter

Friday of the Second Week in Lent

Never lose your childish innocence. Its the most important thing -- Katherine in “ Under the Tuscan Sun.”

Luis understands this. It came to me in the middle of the night.

“Childish innocence.”

In Lent can we take the time, embrace the solitude, and think like a child?

Can we cast away the scales of time and pain, and view the world totally afresh?

Can we see the world as full of adventure and discovery, or we do we see the morning as a day full of “the same old thing?”

Growing up, I will never forget the first time I took a stalk of onion grass, placed it in a small hole, and when it moved pulled up a Rolly Polly. Remember when the first time a cork went down on your cane pole, you yanked it up, and a fish was caught on your line? Life as a child is like that. It is full of joy and surprises.

In Lent, we to emphasize the sacrifice and ignore the excitement that life offers us. We need to be more like children. Didn’t someone say that 2000 years ago?

Tomorrow, wake up and and look out the window with a child’s eyes. It might just look differently.

Webb.

3rd Thursday in Lent

"The best toys are the ones with no instructions" - Will, age 6

At home with my sons during spring break I've caught up on the latest Spongebob and Jimmy Neutron plots, learned that Jake already has a cross over dribble, and I've found out that if they had made Star Wars Legos when I was six I might have become an engineer. Will made the above comment during an extended Lego session. He had just finished inventing some sort of space cruiser that not only flies very fast and shoots lasers out of the front and back, but had a cafeteria inside as well. "So the Jedi can eat chicken nuggets."

In a similar way, I find it very hard not to follow the instructions when it comes to my relationships with God. I attend church, memorize the hymns and prayers, and always cross myself during the blessing. I give up something during lent. I wear my best tie on Easter Sunday.

But it's the time I spend with God without instructions that is the most rewarding. I might be alone at night typing on my laptop or outside playing basketball with Jake when I hear her voice or recognize the splendor of her creation. I am trying to do this more often, trying to ignore the instructions and branch out on my own. As Will knows, its more fun to invent your own starship than build the one on the box. Walter

Wednesday of the Second Week in Lent

The Six Year old philospher's spring break delayed today's offering, and while it was being written the following came in like "manna from heaven."

"Hey---I thought I would share something with yall since you are our spiritual guidance right now----I was thinking about it this morning as I got ready for work--not sure why. It was prompted by a party I went to (and hosted) on Saturday night. It was at a friend of mine's house. The couple is my age with similar jobs/backgrounds----but their house is amazing. Huge and beautiful with an amazing courtyard---two blocks from the park. I found myself envious all night. Envious of the house and assuming that their lives must be better because their house is better--nicer--bigger. What had I done wrong that I didn't have all that they had?

And then for some reason that same night (perhaps in my sober clarity) I realized how unfair I was being to myself, and my husband and God. I was assuming that what I have (or have been given) isn't good enough.

So, then I thought about Lent--and the meditations, and what yall might say. I decided that since my true tangible vices (starbucks and wine) were given up about 5 months ago---maybe I would try to give up something a little deeper this year. Envy. It is a sin, right? I was thinking that every year I manage to give up something tangible----and reward myself with a lot of that something when Lent is over---but maybe this year, I won't want the envy back after 40 days. Maybe instead I will have a much stronger appreciation for what I have.

We'll see. It is hard---very---and takes a lot of thought each day. Makes me realize just how deeply it penetrates my daily life. So it is a good, spiritual challenge for me----just wanted to share with yall."

Tuesday of the Second Week in Lent

A decent provision for the poor is a true test of a civilization. -- S. Johnson

I believe that Lent is a time to look deeply into our soul for God’s will for us. I also believe that during these forty days we must also look outward to our world and our future role in it. Luis, this Sunday, rightfully scolded us by asking, “where are your scars.” How have we carried God’s message into the world and what risks have we taken for his sake? (My apologies Luis for I cannot do your Sermon the justice it is due.)

I have a few scars, like us all do, but I am not comfortable that they were obtained fighting for God. So this Lent I will try so very hard to listen and look deep inside. However, I also need to look at our world and ask, “what can I do to help.” Lent is a time to examine and question, but the time for action will be here soon.

There can be no happiness for any of us until happiness is won for all. -- Gandhi

2dn Monday In Lent

"Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is from God, that we might understand the gifts bestowed on us by God." - 1 Corinthians Chapter 2

I had a teacher in high school who used to ask her class every day. "Are you filled with the holy spirit today?" Unable to understand any relationship between the spirit and algebra, I invariably answered "no."

How can I come to understand the gifts of God? What is Paul talking about? Is he referring to the gifts of the earth; food, clothing, shelter, lower utility costs? Maybe he is talking about the gift of knowledge, or of love, or family? Or are the gifts of God specific to each of us in their own manner. If so, how can we possibly begin to understand them?

I find it very hard sometimes, when faced with trial or pain, or even with the day to day stress of existence (those darn utility bills!) to recognize just what the gift of God means to me. It's not something that I can figure out one hour a week in church, or even typing a daily meditation on your laptop drinking coffee and listening to Spongebob Squarepants in the other room.

Understanding what God's gift means to me means that I must be open and allow his spirit to take hold of me. I don't believe that its something that happens automatically, It may take a lifetime to achieve. But maybe gaining that understanding, will be the ultimate gift itself.

Walter

Second Sunday in Lent

For those who don’t live in the DC Area this Saturday was beautiful --Sunny, in the 70’s, and the sweet smells of spring were beginning to perfume the air. I had agreed to go with Suzy to meet her clients who are buying a home in Silver Spring, Maryland. After dutifully admiring the house, (it really was nice and perfect for them), I went outside while they measured each room for their furniture. I sat in a comfortable Adirondack chair and began to enjoy the warmth of the noon sun and the peaceful neighborhood. An occasional neighbor would walk by or a child would ride by on a bike. I was quickly becoming envious of Suzy’s couple finding this quiet Oasis in a city full of sirens, traffic and hustle and bustle.

The couples painter joined me in an adjacent chair, then starting one at a time, and then by two’s more people started coming down the adjacent street and turning onto the street that I faced and proceeded down the street. The difference in the all the new strollers were they were all in what we call back home, “their Sunday finest,” except it was Saturday.

I began to pay more attention and at the same time my new friend, the painter, was explaining to me that all these people walk by every Saturday. I then realized that all the women were in very modest dresses, and the men and boys were all wearing hats or yarmulkes. The number of walkers parading before me increased to whole families of grandfathers, grandmothers, fathers, mothers, baby strollers and young children.

I was witnessing a sight I had never seen, and only read about occurring on the streets of New York. Several blocks away was an Orthodox Jewish Temple and here were all the members returning from the service foregoing the use of automobiles on the Sabbath and returning to their homes throughout the neighborhood. Many thoughts struck me, I was watching a tradition almost as old as the books of the Bible I am studying at EFM. I was envious of their pace. There was no hurry in their steps as they chatted with their companions. I imagined that the two elderly gentlemen were continuing a debate over the Torah, as they moved slowly down the street with their canes supporting them. I was in no hurry for Suzy and the couple to exit the house because they would be interrupting my personal parade.

Why was I so fascinated? What does this scene have to do with Lenten Meditations? For each of you the answer will be different. On this our Sabbath and for me, I had just had a small insight into what Rabbi Abraham Heschel meant when he said, “ In the tempestuous ocean of time and toil there is an island of stillness where a man may enter a harbor and reclaim his dignity. That island is the seventh day.”

On this Second Sunday in Lent may you all find “an island of stillness.”