Blog
Many Miracles
The crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard [the disciples] speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? … [Yet] in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power. What does this mean?” Acts 2:6-12 excerpted (NRSV)
Language is a delightfully mystical phenomenon. Set aside the oddities of grammar and the hazards of translation, and you’ll find that language is a kind of miracle: A few funny scribbles on the page, a line here, a swoop there, and voilà! The scribbles now convey ideas that live beyond the page and the ink.
I can write three symbols, for example—R, E, D—and your mind’s eye immediately paints a picture of blooming roses, or of campfire sparks drifting up to the sky on a summer night, or of your grandmother’s red sweater that she wore to church on Pentecost and Christmas, always with a gold broach appropriate to the holiday.
Letters are only scribbles and sounds, yet when assembled together, they can capture our lived experiences. Miraculous!
As with most miracles, of course, language can be a source of confusion and conflict. Do we insist upon a single interpretation, confining language like wine to an old flask? Do we worry its inconsistencies to the point of death-by-grammar, concerned that nothing so messy as language can yield new possibilities—like the darkened sun and the bleeding moon welcoming God’s new day? When communication is strained, should our tongues retreat from language in favor of silence?
I imagine someone muttered to themselves on the day of Pentecost: “This is too many tongues, too much fire, too many languages, too much noise.” But who is God, if not the One with too many miracles still unfolding?
Prayer: I prefer to understand it all, O God. Thank heavens the Holy Spirit continues to interrupt and confuse me with new miracles.
cross-posted with the Daily Devotional (ucc.org)
Faith-in-Flesh
Evil is well worth our anger, our outrage, our fury, our deep indignation. Violence too is a worthy recipient of our defensiveness, our horror, our disquiet, even our fear. To rage against the injustices of the world is an appropriate response of Christian faith.
And yet…
Carrying all that rage and fear around on our shoulders as if they are the yoke of Jesus is not faithful living. Holding anger tightly within our bodies—in a knot in our backs, in the tension of our hips, in the shallowness of our breath—is not a spiritual practice. Allowing fear to establish a residence in our guts, hunching our shoulders permanently forward to guard our hearts, fatiguing our minds with the obsession of resentment—these are not the disciplines to which Christ calls us.
If we were called to a faith of rage, we would be followers of Peter with his sword swinging wildly in the Garden of Gethsemane.
If we were called to a faith of fear, we would be adherents in the church of Ananias and Sapphira with their hands clenched tightly around security and their hearts racing with anxiety.
If we were called to a faith of self-righteousness, we would be siblings to the sons of Zebedee in our clamor for seats of judgment and control.
And if we were called to a faith of stiff necks and tense backs, we would be known by the sign of a millstone rather than the sign of the cross, weighed down by worry, tripping over our own doubt.
Instead…
We are called to a faith of radical love and abundant life. We are called to displace the bitter anger from our bodies with a strong backbone of love, the kind of loving backbone that moves easily to make room and holds steady to protect joy. We are called to exhale fear from our guts, to breathe in the expansiveness of hope. We are called to throw off the burden of anxiety from our shoulders, so that we have room to bear the light yoke of Christ.
Anger and fear and heartache have their place in faith—God knows!—but when they sink their roots into our bodies, psyches, and nervous systems, we are hindered from faith. So we choose to love from our physical core, trading fear for community. We love from our hips and our backs, releasing resentment in favor of hope. We love with our whole bodies, because Christ did too. We love, and God is known.
cross-posted with Witness for Justice (a ucc.org publication)
Restraint
The LORD God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat.” - Genesis 2:16-17 (NRSV) When the new year dawned last month, my social media feed was filled with people saying...
Ashes
Breath by breath, grief by grief, joy by joy, pain by heart-rending pain these fragile ashes turn and return and resign to the Holy, to the Trembling, to the Deep Mystery, to the Heritage of Relentless Love without which these same ashes could only sift and settle...
Stubborn
Most Holy Judge: for what we plainly know but cannot bring ourselves to confront, forgive us and be merciful to those harmed by the fallout. The truth does not need prophets yet you send them anyway, each one an invitation to understand and repent, to make way for...
Tent-Making
Let me pitch my tent by a lamppost in the snow somewhere in a dream of witches and wardrobes and wonders that taste of delight and courage. Let me roll out a heavy tarp under a mysterious new moon resting alongside the wise wind and the patient oak tree, until...
I Cannot Fly
I cannot fly, O God of the soaring eagle; I cannot even leap with a dancer's grace. But today I can wake and I can rise, and perhaps the strong wind will remind me not to be so rooted in fear. I cannot measure up, O God of the starry heavens; I cannot even pretend to...
From One Grasshopper to Another
It is God who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in; who brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing. - Isaiah...
Tremors
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea. There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God. God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved. - Psalm 46:2-5 excerpts (NRSV) My daughter...
Patience
Paul stood up and began to speak: “The God of this people Israel made the people great during their stay in the land of Egypt, and with uplifted arm God led them out of it. For about forty years God put up with them in the wilderness.” - Acts 13:16-18, excerpts (NRSV)...
Love, Rise
Sun, rise and welcome the new day I have dreaded Love, rise and stand in the gap of my silent fears I watch the sunrise because I long for your warmth River, rise and carry away this ache of sorrow Love, rise and wash over me with wonder I come to the water because I...
