room to flourish

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

holy week, tuesday

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

Opening Prayer:
By your cross O Lord, you show the extravagance of your love for us. Love than knows no limits…no boundaries. Love that pours down upon us from every wound of your beloved Son. More love than we could ever ask for or imagine. When we are tempted to doubt the depths of your heart for us, let our eyes immediately look to Jesus crucified—and may all doubt be taken away. In His name. Amen. (JLB)

Psalm for the Week: Psalm 22

Scripture for the Day: John 12:20-26

Reading for Reflection:

Take this to heart and doubt not that you are the one who killed Christ. Your sins certainly did, and when you see the nails driven through his hands, be sure that you are pounding, and when the thorns pierce his brow, know that they are your evil thoughts. Consider that if one thorn pierced Christ you deserve a hundred thousand.

~Martin Luther

The more we lack everything the more we resemble Jesus crucified. The more we cling to the cross, the closer do we embrace Jesus who is nailed to it. Every cross is a gain, for every cross unites us to Jesus. (Meditations of a Hermit by Charles de Foucauld)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself

Song for the Week: Lift Up Thy Bleeding Hand

When wounded sore, the stricken heart
Lies bleeding and unbound,
One only hand, a pierced hand,
Can salve the sinner's wound.

When sorrow swells the laden breast,
And tears of anguish flow,
One only heart, a broken heart,
Can feel the sinner's woe.

Chorus:
Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord,
Unseal that cleansing tide;
We have no shelter from our sin
But in Thy wounded side.

When penitential grief has wept
O'er some foul dark spot,
One only stream, a stream of blood,
Can wash away the blot.

'Tis Jesus' blood that washes white,
His hand that brings relief,
His heart that's touched with all our joys,
And feels for all our grief.
Chorus

Closing Prayer:

Our God and Father,

We thank You that You have delivered us from the dominion of sin and death, and brought us into the kingdom of Your Son: Grant we pray that, by his death he has recalled us to life, so by his love he may raise us to eternal joy. In the name of Jesus. Amen. (adapted from Venite by Robert Benson)

Monday, March 25, 2013

holy week, monday

The heart of Christianity is a cross, the sign of a love unto death, and beyond into resurrection. I am beginning to understand that there is no way of following Jesus except by undergoing what he underwent. Unless I die, I can never bear fruit.

No one in this world can escape suffering, but not all suffering is the cross. Suffering cannot be avoided, but one can escape the cross. The cross must be a choice, a free decision, or it is not the sign of Jesus’ love. The cross is an invitation; each person must say yes. No one becomes a disciple without saying yes to Jesus taking us, blessing us, breaking us open, and passing us around. (Gathering the Fragments by Edward J. Farrell)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself

Song for the Week: Lift Up Thy Bleeding Hand

Closing Prayer:

Our God and Father,

Sunday, March 24, 2013

palm sunday

I remember leading a retreat for pastors some years ago in which we talked about that place in the spiritual journey (variously called the Dark Night, the wilderness, the movement from the false self to the true self) in which there is a very profound kind of death and dying that must take place in order for something truer to emerge. We talked about the fact that it is a time when even those who have been faithful to the spiritual journey may experience loss and disillusionment, when we are humbled, confused and even begin to question those things that we used to be so sure of. It feels like dying because in some sense it is. We are dying to what is false within us—surrendering that which is passing and needs to pass—in order to be more completely given over to God.

After that teaching, I walked to lunch with several young men who were in their late twenties/early thirties. They were elders at a hip and happenin’ church that was growing and developing in good ways and they had a question. I don’t remember the exact words now but it was something like this, “Does everyone have to go through this kind of death and dying? How can we do ministry in such a way that we don’t have to pass through such a dark night? And if we can’t, is there any way we can speed up the process so we can get it behind us?” What they were really asking was, Isn’t there any way we can be good enough so we don’t have to die?

Well, I had never been asked that question in quite that way before so it gave me pause. And after falling in love with them for their earnestness and sincerity the only thing I could even think to say was, “Even Jesus had to die in order for the will of God to come forth in his life. If Jesus had to go through it, I don’t think any of us are going to get away without it.” I’m pretty sure that’s not the answer they were looking for.

So here we are at the beginning of Holy Week—a week when we are invited to practice the most basic and most sacred rhythm of the spiritual life: the rhythm of death, burial, and resurrection. The paschal mystery. It is not a rhythm that any of us would willingly choose or even know how to choose; it is usually thrust upon us. Even Jesus admitted to having mixed feelings about the inevitability of it all. Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—”Father, save me from this hour?” No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. (John 12:27)

“Really?” we might say. “We’ve come all this way, done all this work, become this good just to die?” The answer to those young elders and to us is yes, always yes. But it is not something we surrender to easily; it is something we need to practice. As Richard Rohr writes, “We all find endless disguises and excuses to avoid letting go of what really needs to die for our own spiritual growth…It is always our beloved passing self that has to be let go of. Jesus surely had a dozen good reasons why he should not have to die so young, so unsuccessful at that point, and the Son of God besides! It is always ‘we”—in our youth, in our beauty, in our power and over-protectedness—that must be handed over. It is really about ‘passing over’ to the next level of faith and life. And that never happens without some kind of ‘dying to the previous levels.’”

So let us enter into Holy Week as a way to practice the most holy and sacred rhythm of our faith—death, burial and resurrection. Let us enter into Jesus’ passion by “handing ourselves over” to the events of this week–Mary’s costly act of preparation for Jesus’ burial, Jesus’ final teaching regarding the cost of discipleship, the tenderness of the Last Supper, the pain of betrayal, Jesus handing himself over to his enemies in the garden of Gethsemane, the arduous journey to the cross, the despair of Holy Saturday, the joy of resurrection Sunday.

As we begin this week together, let us ask Jesus what area of our lives at this time needs to be transformed through the rhythm of death, burial and resurrection. Let us ask him to be our teacher on the way… from death to burial to resurrection life. (Holy Week: Practicing the Most Sacred Rhythm of All by Ruth Haley Barton)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself

Song for the Week: Lift Up Thy Bleeding Hand

Closing Prayer:

Our God and Father,

Saturday, March 23, 2013

lazarus saturday

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

Opening Prayer:
     O Christ our God, Who by Thy voice didst release Lazarus from the bonds of death after four days in the tomb, restoring him again to life: Thyself. O Master, enliven us who are deadened by sins, granting life that none can take away; and make us who put our hope in Thee, heirs of life without end.
     For Thou art our Life and Resurrection, and to Thee belongeth glory: together with Thine immortal Father, and Thine All-holy, and Good, and Life-creating Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Scripture for the Day: John 11:1-45

Reading for Reflection:

     I don't know why, but for some reason I always find myself trying to defend Martha whenever I read one of these familiar passages containing her and her sister Mary's story. Maybe it is because I feel sorry for the criticism she endures from various religious circles. Maybe it is because I believe (or hope) she is simply misunderstood. Probably it is because I am really trying to defend (and feel okay about) my Martha-like tendencies. Whatever the case, something always seems to rise up in me--and really rise up in the midst of the folks I talk to from time to time--whenever the Mary/Martha discussion rears its head. It is understandable; we live in a Martha-like culture that values and applauds performance and productivity, busyness and getting things done. I too, through the years, have fallen into the "well Martha can't really help it, that's just the way she's made...it's her personality" way of thinking. But after reading and reading and rereading these stories...I'm not so sure that's the case.
     For example, in this particular instance, if we look closely at the details of this interaction, it actually leaves me with a lot of questions. On the surface, Mary and Martha's reaction to the death of their brother looks very similar, but the closer I look, the more and more different they seem to be. For instance, as they hear of Jesus' arrival near Bethany, Martha immediately goes out to meet him, but Mary stays home. Why is that? And as they each approach him, Martha seems to march right up, while Mary falls at his feet. And then there's the fact that Jesus asks Martha a question:  “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?" But for Mary he has no question...only his tears. Instead of asking her about her belief (as he does Martha), He weeps for her. Why are there no tears when Martha comes? And even when He orders them to take away the stone, Mary is silent (I believe hopefully so) while Martha responds:  “But, Lord, by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.” Is this the comment of one who truly believes that Jesus is indeed the resurrection and the life? Could it be that as Martha spent her time worried and anxious about many things, and distracted by all the preparations that had to be made, and Mary was sitting at his feet listening to what He had to say, that something happened deep in the heart of Mary that convinced her to her core that Jesus was indeed worthy of her trust, regardless of the circumstances of life? Mary had developed both a posture (at His feet...Luke 10:39, John 11:32, John 12:3) and a practice (listening to what He had to say) that seem to allow her to trust Jesus in a way that Martha was not yet capable of.
     Am I being too hard on Martha...maybe...probably. But it has nothing to do with not being fully convinced of the fact that Jesus loved her deeply (see John 11:5) . It has more to do with the quality--or lack thereof--of her relationship with Him. I don't know about you, but I just want more than that. There is so much depth and quality that Martha seems to be missing. I want so much more, and I'll bet you do too. In contrast, Mary just seems to get it. I mean, if you had to pick one of them to sit down with and talk deeply about Jesus, which one would you pick? For me it's a no brainer. I want the one who sat at his feet and listened to all he had to say; the one whose heart was totally and completely captured by Him.
     So, I think there is something significant in all of this for me: that the difference between Martha and Mary is not simply one of personality, but something much bigger than that. The difference is one of paradigm; the way the two of them see things. It is a difference in the way they see themselves, and the way they see life, and the way they see Jesus. When we begin to see with Mary's eyes; to see what the better part really is, and set our eyes and our hearts on that...on Him, then true transformation takes place.  Transformation that allows us to know God's heart so deeply that we are able to trust His heart, even when we can't see His hand.
                                                           ~Jim Branch, January 2013

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself

Closing Prayer:

Dear Lord Jesus, until recently I never noticed the timing of your raising Lazarus from the dead. It was the very day before you entered Jerusalem to begin what we call “Passion Week”—your final days in this world. How fitting it is that you would raise Lazarus the day before Palm Sunday—the prelude to the resurrection of all resurrections, yours. Indeed, what a most glorious preview of coming attractions.

     But not long after you called out to a dead man, “Lazarus, come out!” you offered a much more passionate cry to your Father, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The price of Lazarus’ resurrection, and ours, was your death as the second Adam—taking our place, our guilt, and our judgment.
     Lord Jesus, we humbly and gladly acknowledge, you were pierced for our transgressions, you were crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brings us peace was on you, and by your wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on you the iniquity of us all. (cf. Isa. 53:5-6)
    How we praise you for the tragic, necessary and glorious cross, Lord Jesus. For on your cross you were made sin for us that in you we might become the righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5:21). We honor, worship and adore you. We bow down—we fall down convicted of our sins and convinced of the unsearchable riches of the gospel. We sing with our loud voices raised…
   “Oh, to see my name, written in the wounds, for through Your suffering I am free. Death is crushed to death; Life is mine to live, won through Your selfless love. This, the pow’r of the cross; Son of God—slain for us. What a love! What a cost! We stand forgiven at the cross.” (K Getty)
     As “Passion Week” begins, we ask you to fill these next seven days with much boasting in the cross. Grant us more freedom to worship you as you deserve to be worshipped, Lord Jesus, that we might serve you as you delight to be served.
     As your already beloved, just and raised-in-you Bride, please remove even more of our grave clothes and set us free. Set us free, Lord Jesus, set us free to live and to love to your glory. So very Amen, we pray, in your holy and loving name.

                                                                          ~Scotty Smith

Friday, March 22, 2013

hunger and thirst, day 5

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

Opening Prayer:
You called, You cried, you shattered my deafness. You sparkled, you blazed, You drove away my blindness. You shed your fragrance, and I drew in my breath, and I pant for You. I tasted and now I hunger and thirst. You touched me, and now I burn with longing for your peace. (Confessions by St. Augustine)

Psalm for the Week: Psalm 81

Scripture for the Day: Jeremiah 2:11-13

Reading for Reflection:

Each of us, for instance, carries around inside himself, I believe, a certain emptiness—a sense that something is missing, a restlessness, the deep feeling that somehow all is not right inside his skin. (The Magnificent Defeat by Frederick Buechner)

I speak to thirsty hearts whose longings have been wakened by the touch of God within them. (Pursuit of God by A. W. Tozer)

Reflection and Listening: silent and written

Prayer: for the church, for others, for myself

Song for the Week: All Who are Thirsty

All who are weak
Come to the fountain
Dip your heart in the stream of life
Let the pain and the sorrow
Be washed away
In the waves of his mercy
As deep cries out to deep (we sing)

Come Lord Jesus come (3x)

Holy Spirit come (3x)

Closing Prayer:
O God of tender mercies, I know I’ve kept you at arms length. I’ve kept you safe in heaven. But heaven has leaned down to the earth and I’ve been touched anew. Like thirsty ground I long for you. Forgive my casualness about your Love. Forgive my shallow life. I am finished with shallowness. I used to pray that I be saved from eternal death, but now I pray to be saved from shallow living. Eternal death? Shallow living? Is there a difference? O God, deliver me from shallow living! (A Tree Full of Angels by Macrina Wiederkehr)

Thursday, March 21, 2013

hunger and thirst, day 4

All of us are willing to admit pangs of hunger and feelings of emptiness inside us. We experience half-formed dreams and vague drives for something more than human resources can promise or produce. There is in each of us a dynamic, a mystique or drive that, unless detoured by human selfishness, leads to search for God, whether we know it or not. It is this desire that carries us beyond what we can see into the darkness and obscurity of faith. It is a hunger that can be satisfied in God alone. Obviously, God does not intend to satisfy this desire completely in this world; its function is to draw us closer and closer to God who alone can give us complete satisfaction. This is the truth which St. Augustine discovered, after the discouragement of so many blind alleys: “our hearts were made for you, O God, and they shall not rest until they rest in you.”

The experience of God touching and involving the human will in search may come to different men in different ways. There are many avenues of attraction to God. Some are drawn to him through his beauty, others to his peace, and still others are attracted by his power. Most men find themselves drawn to God as the source and wellspring of the very meaning of life, the ultimate ground of human existence. But it may be that the first motion of God within the believer-to-be is one of disturbance. Sometimes we forget that God comes to us, not only to give us peace but also to disturb us. He comforts the afflicted and he afflicts the comfortable. For some men life becomes a hopeless mess, and they find themselves aware of a demand to know what it is all about. This inner restlessness and disquiet can well be God sowing the first seeds of faith in the human heart. (A Reason to Live! A Reason to Die! By John Powell)

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

hunger and thirst, day 3

We stand in the midst of nourishment and we starve. We dwell in the land of plenty, yet we persist in going hungry. Not only do we dwell in the land of plenty; we have the capacity to be filled with the utter fullness of God (Eph. 3:16-19). In the light of such possibility, what happens? Why do we drag our hearts? Lock up our souls? Why do we limp? Why do we straddle issues? Why do we live feebly, so dimly? Why aren’t we saints?

Each of us could come up with individual answers to all these questions, but I want to suggest here a common cause. The reason we live life so dimly and with such divided hearts is that we have never really learned how to be present with quality to God, to self, to others, to experiences and events, to all created things. We have never learned to gather up the crumbs of whatever appears in our path at every moment. We meet all of these lovely gifts only half there. Presence is what we are all starving for. Real Presence! We are too busy to be present, too blind to see the nourishment and salvation in the crumbs of life, the experiences of each moment. Yet the secret of daily life is this: There are no leftovers.

There is nothing—no thing, no person, no experience, no thought, no joy or pain—that cannot be harvested and used for nourishment on our journey to God.

What I am suggesting here is that everything in your life is a stepping-stone to holiness if only you recognize that you do have within you the grace to be present to each moment. Your presence is an energy that you can choose to give or not give. Every experience, every thought, every word, every person in your life is a part of a larger picture of your growth. That’s why I call them crumbs. They are not the whole loaf, but they can be nourishing if you give them your real presence. Let everything energize you. Let everything bless you. Even your limping can bless you. (A Tree Full of Angels by Macrina Wiederkehr)

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Tuesday, March 26, 2013

holy week, tuesday

Monday, March 25, 2013

holy week, monday

Sunday, March 24, 2013

palm sunday

Saturday, March 23, 2013

lazarus saturday

Friday, March 22, 2013

hunger and thirst, day 5

Thursday, March 21, 2013

hunger and thirst, day 4

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

hunger and thirst, day 3