gathering, saturday

Saturday, February 28

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

          

Opening Prayer: O Lord our God, help us to be faithful to gather what you have provided for our hearts and souls this day—that we may feed on you and live.  In the name of Jesus, the bread of life.  Amen.

                      

Scripture Reading for the Day: Isaiah 61:1-11

Reading for Reflection:

 

     Through prayer our daily work becomes wrapped up in the heart of God’s compassionate love.  Just as Jesus was broken and given on the cross to feed our desperate souls, through work we are broken and given in order to feed and serve others.

     A wise person once said that there are three kinds of givers in this old world:  the flint, the sponge, and the honeycomb.  To get a flint to give, you have to hammer at it and then it only yields sparks.  Sponges you must squeeze, or else you get nothing.  But the honeycomb drips its own sweetness.  (Beginning Contemplative Prayer by Kathryn Hermes)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      
Closing Prayer: Loving Father, teach me to love and care for those that need you today.  Those who are passed over and do not feel love unless I love them for you.  May Christ's love for others be felt through me today.  In your name and by your power I pray these things.  Amen. (Disciplines for the Inner Life by Michael Benson and Bob Benson)

gathering, friday

Friday, February 27

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

          

Opening Prayer: O Lord our God, help us to be faithful to gather what you have provided for our hearts and souls this day—that we may feed on you and live.  In the name of Jesus, the bread of life.  Amen.

                     

Scripture Reading for the Day: Isaiah 35:1-10

Reading for Reflection:

 

And yet, though we strain

against the deadening grip

of daily necessity,

I sense there is mystery:

 

All life is being lived.

 

Who is living it, then?

Is it the things themselves,

or something waiting inside them,

like an unplayed melody in a flute?

 

Is it the winds blowing over the waters?

Is it the branches that signal to each other?

 

Is it the flowers

interweaving their fragrances,

or streets, as they wind through time?

 

Is it the animals, warmly moving,

or the birds, that suddenly rise up?

 

Who lives it, then?  God, are you the one

who is living life?

(The Book of Hours by Rainer Maria Rilke)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                    

Closing Prayer: O God, help me to see your glory and your splendor in the seemingly isolated and random pieces of this day.  Open my blinded eyes to see you, unstop my deaf ears to hear you, and allow my lame spirit to leap like a deer within me and shout for joy.  Amen.

gathering, thursday

Thursday, February 26

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

         

Opening Prayer: O Lord our God, help us to be faithful to gather what you have provided for our hearts and souls this day—that we may feed on you and live.  In the name of Jesus, the bread of life.  Amen.

                     

Scripture Reading for the Day: Deuteronomy 30:1-10

Reading for Reflection:

 

     The rabbis guide their people with stories; ministers usually guide with ideas and theories.  We need to become storytellers again, and so to multiply our ministry by calling around us the great witnesses who in different ways offer guidance to doubting hearts.
     One of the remarkable qualities of the story is that it creates space.  We can dwell in a story, walk around, find our own place.  The story confronts but does not oppress; the story inspires but does not manipulate.  The story invites us to an encounter, a dialog, a mutual sharing.
     A story that guides is a story that opens a door and offers space in which to search and boundaries to help us find what we seek, but it does not tell us what to do or how to do it.  The story brings us into touch with the vision and so guides us.  Weisel writes, "God made man because he loves stories."  As long as we have stories to tell to each other there is hope. (The Living Reminder by Henri J. M. Nouwen)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      
Closing Prayer: O Lord, help us to truly love you with all that is within us.  Gather us from the places we have been scattered.  Delight in us the way we were created to be delighted in.  Bring us home to yourself.  Remind us of the story you had in mind for us from the beginning.  Amen.

gathering, wednesday

Wednesday, February 25

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

         

Opening Prayer: O Lord our God, help us to be faithful to gather what you have provided for our hearts and souls this day—that we may feed on you and live.  In the name of Jesus, the bread of life.  Amen.

                      

Scripture Reading for the Day: John 11:38-44

Reading for Reflection:

 

     The cave is dark and cold, filled with death and decay.  After all, it has been four days since the dead man was placed inside.  There's no more hope; that's it!  Death has had the final word.  If only Jesus would've shown up sooner, but now what could he possibly do?
     Ever feel that way?  Ever feel like all hope is lost; like life and health and change are not possible because of the gravitational pull of the deadness inside?  Martha would have us believe it is just too late.  "Don't open up that tomb, it's going to stink.  It is far too messy to be redeemed."  I'm so glad that Jesus didn't share her sentiments.  The fact is that Jesus specializes in messy.  That's because Jesus knows that for something to be resurrected it has to truly die first.  Why do you think he waited four days before he arrived at the tomb?  Why do you think he said to Martha, "Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?"  You see, Jesus is bigger than death--be it the death of someone we love, the death of a relationship we hold dear, the death of a dream, or the death that lives within us on a regular basis.  That death would have you believe that this is it.  That's all there is.  There's no way out of this pain and darkness and depression.  You are stuck.  You are trapped.  Life can never be the same again. 

     But Jesus knows better.  Maybe that's why he weeps.  Maybe he is heartbroken that somewhere deep inside we don't truly believe that he can redeem this, whatever this may be.  Maybe he is weeping over the fact that we do not really believe that he can, or will, bring life out of our unimaginable pain and brokenness.  Maybe his tears come from the fact that our circumstances have made us doubt the goodness of his heart.  And maybe his sadness is, somehow, related to our stuckness.  Who knows?
     Luckily the story doesn't end there.  In fact, Jesus calls out, "Take away the stone.”  And when he does some unknown, unseen (to us) group of people spring into action.  People that are filled with the hope that this is not, indeed, the end.  People that are filled with the faith to know that even though things look unredeemable, Jesus is able to breathe life into even the most dismal and hopeless and painful of circumstances.  People that care so deeply for the one inside the tomb that they are standing by, willing and ready to do whatever it takes to help make that redemption possible.  "He can't get out himself," they think, "so why don't we help roll the stone away and just see what Jesus will do."  Truth be told, there can never be enough stone-rollers in the world.  Stone-rollers don't care about the stink.  They don't care about the mess.  They don't care about what anyone thinks.  They are beyond all of that because at some point in time someone had the courage and the grace to roll their own stone away, so that they might walk out of the grave into the light of new life.  And because of that, if there's ever a time when someone needs a stone rolled away—rather than to be avoided or judged or given up on—they want to be the first in line.  Being a stone-roller is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                     
Closing Prayer: Grant us in all things to see your hand, that we may walk with Christ in all simplicity, and serve you with a quiet mind and contented heart.  Amen. (Venite by Robert Benson)

gathering, tuesday

Tuesday, February 24

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

          

Opening Prayer: O Lord our God, help us to be faithful to gather what you have provided for our hearts and souls this day—that we may feed on you and live.  In the name of Jesus, the bread of life.  Amen.

                                        

Scripture Reading for the Day: Psalm 147:1-20

Reading for Reflection:

 

     "You're writing another book about yourself?"  Jordan asked.  He was sitting at the counter in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal.  He had his laptop open and was choosing the starting lineup for his college fantasy basketball team.  He'd been playing the game for a year and finally had a division one team.  He said he was going to start his best defense, because defense wins championships.
     "I'm not writing a book.  I'm not talking about a book.  I'm talking about me.  I don't think I'm telling a good story."
     "I think you tell good stories.  Lots of people think so."
     "I tell good stories in books.  I don't live good stories."
     Jordan poured more milk in his cereal.  He was looking at me while pouring the milk.  He was squinting his eyes a little and furrowing his brow.  He stopped pouring the milk.  He kept looking at me for ten seconds or more, like he was studying me.
     "You're right," he finally said.  "You aren't living a good story."
     "That's what I was saying."
     "I see," he said.
     "What do I do about that?"
     "You're a writer.  You know what to do."
     "No, I don't."
     Jordan looked at me with his furrowed brow again.  "You put something on the page," he said.  "Your life is a blank page.  You write on it."
(A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                       

Closing Prayer: Deliver us, O Lord, when we draw near to you, from coldness of heart and wanderings of mind: grant that with steadfast thoughts and kindled affections, we may worship you in spirit and in truth.  Amen. (Venite by Robert Benson)

gathering, monday

Monday, February 23

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

         

Opening Prayer: O Lord our God, help us to be faithful to gather what you have provided for our hearts and souls this day—that we may feed on you and live.  In the name of Jesus, the bread of life.  Amen.

         

Scripture Reading for the Day: Luke 9:57-62

Reading for Reflection:

 

     I love the plough that opens up the earth, lays bare the soil where seed can fall.  It matters little that the widening wound of earth still hesitates, uncertain of the nutrients it has to offer falling seed.  The seed is sown, the wound of earth closed up again.  The broken soil becomes a womb, a sheltering tomb of life protecting what must die to live.  We wait then for signs of life: the stem, the leaf, the bud, the fruit or vegetable to wend its way from dark to light.  The image of the plough opening the soil to welcome seed offers us a metaphor for the human heart.  The heart too must be prepared, readied to receive its daily seed.  No more looking back!
     I love the Word of God that pierces the human heart, lays bare the soul where seed can fall.  The sower's passion invites the heart to receptivity.  The sower looks not back to see if the heart is worthy.  Sower and plough become one.  With contemplative awareness they trust the widening wound of the opening heart.  This laying bare the heart's good soil is a moment of readiness.  She or he who receives the seed of the Word of God receives also the silence of the Word and waits to be transformed.  No more looking back!
     I love the disciple who allows the heart to be pierced.  Obedient to the piercing Word and broken heart, the disciple learns to wait, trusting the Word to die and live within the heart's good soil.  The disciple's heart becomes a sheltering womb and tomb for what must die to live.  I love the one who is transformed into a disciple by surrendering to the Word of God.  Rooted in obedience to the Word, there is no more looking back! (Abide by Macrina Wiederkehr)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      
Closing Prayer: You alone bring order to the unruly wills and affections of sinners.  Grant us grace to love what You command, and desire what You have promised, so that, among the swift and varied changes of this world, our hearts may be fixed where true joy is to be found.  Amen. (Venite by Robert Benson)

gathering the pieces, sunday

Sunday, February 22

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

          

Opening Prayer: O Lord our God, help us to be faithful to gather what you have provided for our hearts and souls this day—that we may feed on you and live.  In the name of Jesus, the bread of life.  Amen.

                                       

Scripture Reading for the Day: John 6:1-14

Reading for Reflection:

 

     The call came at about 9:30 pm on a typical Thursday evening in early December.  I had just returned home from somewhere or other and was talking with my wife in the living room about the events of the day when our son called on his cell phone to ask if he could go to the church coffee shop with some friends.  As she spoke to him there was an abrupt halt in the conversation—a significant amount of panic and anxiety filled her usually calm face.  Our son, as his mother was listening, had just been involved in an automobile accident.  I quickly got news of his location and headed for the door—not being able to get there fast enough.  Fears and prayers consumed the drive until I reached the scene.  As I arrived I saw him—in one piece, unhurt—standing with a few friends in the midst of the broken glass and police lights and passersby.  My only desire at that moment was wrap my arms around him—which I did as he began to express his sorrow and sadness.  “I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry,” was all he could say; which was met only by my relief and gratitude that he was unhurt.

     “I’m just so glad you are okay.”

     So we stood there in the middle of the road and waited as reports were written and information was exchanged and wrecker services were called.  Looking down at my feet all I could see was broken pieces… glass, plastic, metal, etc.  The pieces were littering the street—such an appropriate description of the scene in general—broken.  Broken glass.  Broken pieces.  Broken hearts.  Broken world.  Broken.

     That’s when the words came.  Words that I had been captured by months before that were returning at just the right time.  “Gather the pieces that are left over.  Let nothing be wasted.”  Words that offered such comfort and hope.  Words that spoke of God’s heart and God’s presence, even in the midst of the broken pieces of this life.  It was as if Jesus was saying to me, “I am here.  I am with you even in the brokenness.  Gather the pieces and you will find me.  You are not alone in this.  With me nothing is wasted.  I will use even the most broken situations to mold and make you into the amazing creation that I have always longed for you to be.”

     What a crazy world this is that we live in—a world where brokenness is unfortunately a part of life.  Death and suffering, war and violence, conflict and strife; from anger, hatred, and racism to hurricanes, tornados and tsunamis.   We can’t avoid it, or deny it, no matter how hard we may try.  But the beautiful thing is that brokenness does not have the last word—wholeness does.  For no matter how broken the heart, or the life, or the circumstance, we have this amazing God who says, “With me nothing is wasted.  Gather the pieces, I am in the midst of them.”

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      

Closing Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank you that you are present in the midst of the broken pieces of this day.  May we find you there as we gather them up and may it help us to trust both your provision for us, as well as the goodness of your heart.  Amen.

tears, saturday

Saturday, February 21

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

         

Opening Prayer: O God. We give ourselves over to your care, trusting only in your infinite mercy and love.  We will continue to give thanks to you, O Lord, for all that we have and all that we are.  We will rest assured in the knowledge that when we cry to you in sadness or in joy you will hear our cry and make reply.  Amen. (A Guide to Prayer for All Who Walk with God by Rueben P. Job, Norman Shawchuck, and John Mogabgab)

                     

Scripture Reading for the Day: Psalm 126:1-6

Reading for Reflection:

 

“Tears hollow out places in the heart,” wrote Gibran, “where joy can grow.”  To be emptied is to create a place that can be filled.  “They that sow in tears…” says the psalmist, and which of us has no tears to sow? (Living Prayer by Robert Benson)

 

     So much is distilled in our tears, not the least of which is wisdom in living life.  From my own tears I have learned that if you follow your tears, you will find your heart.  If you find your heart, you will find what is dear to God.  And if you find what is dear to God, you will find the answer to how you should live your life. (Windows of the Soul by Ken Gire)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      

Closing Prayer: Help me O God,

Give me the courage to cry.

Help me to understand that tears bring

     freshly washed colors arching across the soul,

     colors that wouldn’t be there apart from the rain.

Help me to see in the prism of my tears,

     something of the secret of who I am.

Give me the courage

     not only to see what those tears are revealing

     but to follow where they are leading.

And help me to see

     that where they are leading me is home.

(Windows of the Soul by Ken Gire)

tears, friday

Friday, February 20

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

          

Opening Prayer: O God. We give ourselves over to your care, trusting only in your infinite mercy and love.  We will continue to give thanks to you, O Lord, for all that we have and all that we are.  We will rest assured in the knowledge that when we cry to you in sadness or in joy you will hear our cry and make reply.  Amen. (A Guide to Prayer for All Who Walk with God by Rueben P. Job, Norman Shawchuck, and John Mogabgab)

                     

Scripture Reading for the Day: Hebrews 5:7-10

Reading for Reflection:

 

     I think a Christian is one who, along with Jesus, agrees to feel, to suffer the pain of the world.  But we can’t stop there.  Tears come just as much with happiness.  When it is an unearned happiness, when we know we did not deserve this goodness, we lose words.  Tears are our only response.  We perhaps have two eyes because reality is stereoscopic.  When we see it fully, we have reason for both immense sadness and immense happiness—and both at the same time.

     When faith reaches a certain intensity and the mystery becomes utterly overwhelming, often we can respond only with tears. (Everything Belongs by Richard Rohr)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      

Closing Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank you for the depths of despair you were willing to go to for me.  Thank you that you carried my sorrows.  Thank you that you bore my sin and my pain; all so that I could be with you for all eternity.  Amen.

tears, thursday

Thursday, February 19

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

Opening Prayer: O God. We give ourselves over to your care, trusting only in your infinite mercy and love.  We will continue to give thanks to you, O Lord, for all that we have and all that we are.  We will rest assured in the knowledge that when we cry to you in sadness or in joy you will hear our cry and make reply.  Amen. (A Guide to Prayer for All Who Walk with God by Rueben P. Job, Norman Shawchuck, and John Mogabgab)

                     

Scripture Reading for the Day: Luke 7:36-50

Reading for Reflection:

 

     I would love to have been a fly on the wall, an eyewitness to this extravagant outpouring of sorrow and love.  I would love to have seen her face as she both wept upon and kissed the feet of the Savior.  Surely these were no normal tears.  These tears were an odd combination of the remorse and regret associated with the gravity of sin, coupled with the immense gratitude and affection that comes from the joy and delight of being forgiven.  Because, of course, the gospel is always both.  They cannot be separated, this weeping and kissing.  So as we journey together through these next days and weeks, let us always hold these two things together in perfect harmony.  Let an abundance of tears and an abundance of kisses continually bathe his pierced feet.  Thanks be to God!

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      

Closing Prayer: Gracious God, you know the sighs confined and hidden within the depths of our hearts. Sighs for which there are often no words.  Do not be far from us, O God, when we cry out unto you.  Hear our prayers today.  Amen. (A Guide to Prayer for All Who Walk with God by Rueben P. Job, Norman Shawchuck, and John Mogabgab)

ash wednesday

Ash Wednesday, February 18

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

          

Opening Prayer: O God. We give ourselves over to your care, trusting only in your infinite mercy and love.  We will continue to give thanks to you, O Lord, for all that we have and all that we are.  We will rest assured in the knowledge that when we cry to you in sadness or in joy you will hear our cry and make reply.  Amen. (A Guide to Prayer for All Who Walk with God by Rueben P. Job, Norman Shawchuck, and John Mogabgab)

                     

Scripture Reading for the Day: Joel 2:1-2, 12-17

Reading for Reflection:

 

Because I do not hope to turn again

Because I do not hope

Because I do not hope to turn

Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope

I no longer strive to strive towards such things

(Why should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?)

Why should I mourn

The vanished power of the usual reign?

 

Because I do not hope to know

The infirm glory of the positive hour

Because I do not think

Because I know I shall not know

The one veritable transitory power

Because I cannot drink

There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is

  nothing again

 

Because I know that time is always time

And place is always and only place

And what is actual is actual only for one time

And only for one place

I rejoice that things are as they are and

I renounce the blessèd face

And renounce the voice

Because I cannot hope to turn again

Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something

Upon which to rejoice

 

And pray to God to have mercy upon us

And pray that I may forget

These matters that with myself I too much discuss

Too much explain

Because I do not hope to turn again

Let these words answer

For what is done, not to be done again

May the judgment not be too heavy upon us

 

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly

But merely vans to beat the air

The air which is now thoroughly small and dry

Smaller and dryer than the will

Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death

Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

(Ash Wednesday by T. S. Eliot)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                    

Closing Prayer: O Lord, thank you that you would rather tear me to pieces than allow me to continue being something other than that which I was created to be.  Now that is true love!  Help me, during this day and during this season, to return to you with all my heart.  Amen. 

tears, tuesday

Tuesday, February 17

Come to Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to be still before God.

          

Opening Prayer: O God. We give ourselves over to your care, trusting only in your infinite mercy and love.  We will continue to give thanks to you, O Lord, for all that we have and all that we are.  We will rest assured in the knowledge that when we cry to you in sadness or in joy you will hear our cry and make reply.  Amen. (A Guide to Prayer for All Who Walk with God by Rueben P. Job, Norman Shawchuck, and John Mogabgab)

                                      

Scripture Reading for the Day: John 11:17-44

Reading for Reflection:

    

     Digory kept his mouth very tight shut.  He had been growing more and more uncomfortable.  He hoped that whatever happened, he wouldn’t blub or do anything ridiculous.

     “Son of Adam,” said the Aslan.  “Are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done to my sweet country of Narnia on the very day of its birth?”

     “Well, I don’t see what I can do,” said Digory.  “You see, the Queen ran away and—“

     “I asked, are you ready,” said the Lion.

     “Yes,” said Digory.  He had had for a second some wild idea of saying “I’ll try to help you if you’ll promise to help about my Mother,” but he realized in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with.  But  when he had said “Yes,” he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:

     “But please, please—won’t you—can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?”  Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great front feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face.  What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life.  For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes.  They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself. (The Magician’s Nephew by C. S. Lewis)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself    

                      

Closing Prayer: Thank you, Lord Jesus that you wept.  Thank you that you are a God who weeps—that our sorrows bring tears to your eyes as well.  Thank you that you hold us, as well as all our tears, in the palm of your pierced hand.  Amen.