Braving forward in faith, life and work.
I long for structure these days; boundaries and routines. These got pulled out from under me when the Pandemic hit back in March. It’s now the end of June and my life feels like a swamp rather than the above picture of neatly plowed fields, each with their own design and purpose. My friend Camille says to look for the things that spark life in me to help me trudge through the swamp. Clues to get me from one mossy stone to the next.
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One day a beautiful envelope arrived with my name on it and a royal wax seal. Hand written in golden-red ink on thick cotton paper, it smelled like frankincense. It read:
You are invited to The Thanksgiving Feast ~ No one has ever served a feast this sumptuous, on a table more exquisite, to more worthy guests. The bread and wine served will consist of priceless ingredients grown, crafted and served by the Host himself. The nourishment of this feast procures eternal life for all who eat it.
If you accept, please come to the church when you receive this letter.
You must leave everything behind.
Hello, friends! I feel honored, excited, and nervous to sit at this table. Each of the women here are hopeful writers, and influential female voices. When discussing faith and theology, I scooch in beside dear friends who know and love me deeply. My inner child beams while watching older women I admire. My inner teenager sits down cautiously, and looks around the lunch table. Everyone’s invited, but does everyone truly belong?
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We are a few weeks into Ordinary time, a season of the church that stretches from Pentecost to Advent. The term ordinary is misleading, there is nothing common place about this season. The term comes from the latin word ordanalis which refers to numbers in a series. Since Ordinary Time is quite lengthy, the Sunday’s are numbered to aid us in our forward movement in the church calendar year. This season is one of remembering and celebrating the coming of the Holy Spirit and the growth of God’s Church. This is the time when we recognize the power of our risen Lord at work in our lives and in the world.
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I feel awkward and perhaps a little ashamed to write about things I have learned these past few months with our country being in such upheaval with the death of multiple blacks Americans. Not to mention that we are still in the middle of a global pandemic that has changed the shape of 2020 and our lives entirely. Yet I have to write, it’s the only way I know how to best process all the swirling thoughts and ongoing ideas that keep me up at night. It calms my mind and connects me back to myself, and most importantly, it connects me to God.
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I resisted writing this blog about hospitality not because I don’t think the topic is important but because my brain is fried due to being in quarantine so long. I can’t even begin to write about what it means to practice hospitality when we can’t even have people in our homes! Yet biblical hospitality calls us to something entirely different. It is far more than just baking a pie and sitting around a lovely set table, it’s about welcoming the stranger and feeding the hungry.
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In our current circumstanced with sheltering in place, we find that our limited access to our usual routines, self-care, and companionship have made us, well, a bit more cranky. For my household, we all find ourselves constantly apologizing and trying our best to stay clear of the resentment zone. We live in a 1000 sq. ft house and it’s hard to get away from one another! Many of our fights are being resolved by learning to apologize better (check out this great podcast on apologies) and chalking it up to quarantine-induced behavior. Apologizing isn’t the only thing needed, however, our willingness to forgive one another is also necessary.
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I’ve had confession all wrong. I grew up in a tradition where confession was barely talked about because confession had more to do with our conversion than an ongoing practice. We certainly talked about sin and it’s consequences but never talked about how we actually confessed sins. Instead, I remember being told to ask Jesus for forgiveness when I did something “bad” and He would forgive me for my sins. Just a few minutes down the road, however, was the town’s main Catholic church. I remember judging my catholic brothers and sisters about their tradition of confessing their sins to a priest.
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This week for the Practices of Resurrection Eastertide Series, we are dedicating time and brain space for contemplation and meditation. With today’s current environment that is riddled with troubles and doubts, our minds and our homes are chalked full of anxiety, and often accompanied by a sink full of dishes! In the midst of this chaos, it’s easy to forget The Good, and the ability to see Jesus in our every day.
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I grew up in the Southern Baptist Church, a denomination known to teach the Bible well. I remember the “line by line” sermons on Sunday mornings and a plethora of Bible studies available throughout the week. As a young believer in Jesus, I had an intense desire to know God’s Word and soaked up every bit of knowledge I could. Yet as I entered into adulthood, I became frustrated and guilt ridden with reading my Bible. I had a desire to grow closer to the Lord and was taught to believe that reading your Bible would do that but I began to struggle with even cracking the cover.
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