February 25:
“Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you.” Isaiah 49:15
I left the tea kettle on this morning as I went out to walk the dog. Fortunately, with all the wind and the rain, Danny was having none of it. So, instead of returning to a smoldering mass of metal, the merry whistling of the kettle greeted us as we came up the stairs. But whoops.
Am I growing forgetful? Maybe. Though I’ve always been good at forgetting.
Not God, according to Isaiah 49. This is Second Isaiah, probably addressing the exiles from Judah who are living in Babylon. God has been quiet. To the point, says Isaiah, where people are feeling forsaken and forgotten.
But things are stirring. Change is coming. God is working. And their exile will soon come to an end.
It’s not always easy to see the ways God is moving in our lives. But forget us? Not something God does.
Blessings,
K
February 24:
“Therefore, do not be anxious about your life…” Matthew 6:25
Of all the commands of Jesus, the one I violate most freely is probably the most important: “Do not be anxious.”
So much to be anxious about! Lately I’ve even started to worry about being too anxious.
But Jesus says, let it be. Do not worry about what you will eat, or what you will wear, or even about your life itself. Why? Because God knows what we need. And what we don’t need.
So many of our anxieties are tied to our blessings. “I have to work!” But I have a job. “I have to call my mom!” But how great it is that she’s around to call. “I have to make dinner!” But there is food around to cook. “I have to write my Thursday Thought!” But there are people who will read it and appreciate it.
Maybe today I’ll look past my anxieties and see my blessings.
Blessings,
K
February 22:
“Look carefully how you walk… making the most of the time, because the days are troubled.” Ephesians 5:15-16
There is a clock on the church tower at 91st Street. In fact there are four clocks, one on each side. Very convenient. As we passed it on the way to Harry’s school, I could tell if we were late, really late, or ‘better start running’ late.
For weeks now, though, the clock has told the same time: 9:25. If that were correct, we would be ‘give up and go home’ late. But it’s not.
Scripture tells us it’s important to know the time. Not the clock time (chronos in Greek), but the kairos, the moment, the season, the opportunity time. God’s time.
Paul urged the Christians at Ephesus to live carefully, and make the most of the kairos. Because each moment, each kairos moment, contains some sort of God-given opportunity.
May you discover a kairos moment in your day! And make something of it.
Blessings,
K
February 17th:
“Arise my love and come away, for, lo, the winter is past…” Song of Solomon 2: 10-11
Yesterday’s warmish, sunny weather coaxed me and my bicycle out of the house and onto the streets. But we hadn’t been on the streets for a few weeks, and we weren’t ready for the crevices and chasms formed by ice, road salt and snowplows. It was a bumpy ride. But this winter has been a bumpy ride.
I’m sure it’s not over yet. There’s more weather a-coming. But riding past the gardens in Riverside Park I saw one confused crocus poking its green head out of the snowy ground.
I thought of this sentence by the existentialist writer Albert Camus, “In the depth of winter, I finally realized that there lay within me an invincible summer.”
May it be so in all of us.
Blessings,
K
February 16th:
“Be perfect, therefore, as God in heaven is perfect.” Matthew 5:48
If we needed further proof, which we don’t, of the impossibility of being perfect, last night’s Jeopardy victory of IBM’s DeepQA computer “Watson” is a good reminder. The human contestants did their best, but were blown out of the water by Watson and its bank of 90 servers.
But it reminded me of the guy Watson is named after, IBM founder,”world’s greatest salesman” and life-long Methodist Thomas A. Watson, Sr. He wasn’t perfect, either. But he was a pretty good guy in a lot of ways.
I spent a week once at Watson Homestead, the large family farm he deeded to the United Methodist Church for a camp and conference center up in Painted Post, NY. A lovely, restful place that hundreds of kids and adults call home every summer. As he used to, himself.
Machines are great at a lot of things. But generosity? That probably still takes the warming of the human heart.
Blessings,
K
February 15th:
“But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, pray for those who persecute you.’” Matthew 5:44
Getting today’s lecture together for my class on Christian Ethics at Drew, I came across, of all things, the origins of the phrase, “What would Jesus do?”
This aphoristic question first became popular in the 90s. Not the 1990s, but the 1890s. And it was penned by Charles Sheldon, the man who inspired the progressive Social Gospel movement and its founder Walter Rauschenbusch.
Sheldon published a novel in 1897 (the year this church was built) called “In His Steps: What Would Jesus Do?” The movement that novel helped inspire imagined a society motivated by the work and words of Jesus. And, far from the imaginings of the 1990s Christian Right, it was a progressive vision: of a world without exploitation of workers or wasteful military spending.
I was reminded of this again when I saw the outline of the new Federal budget. Lots of cuts to lots of social programs. But the military? Ah… no. After all, some things are sacred.
What would Jesus cut?
Blessings,
K
February 14th: Happy Valentine’s Day
“Let love be genuine…” Romans 12:9
Paul offers this plea. Some things can be faked. Let love be genuine.
These days we can fake a lot of things. Photographs can be photoshopped. Hot dogs can be made out of tofu, instead of… whatever they’re really made out of.
Think of ‘reality TV’. I don’t want to upset anybody, but how much of that is real in any real sense of the word??
And, love can be faked. You don’t have to be a 46 year old congressman from upstate NY to lie to Craig’s List, or eHarmony, or Match.com. And friends can be hugged one minute, and spoken derisively of the next.
So Paul makes his plea: Let love be genuine. And he goes on to offer a little bit of how-to advice. “Detest that which is evil, hold tightly to that which is good. Love each other with mutual affection. Honor each other above yourselves. Be zealous, not jealous, be passionate in spirit, serve God above all. Rejoice in hope, be patient when things go poorly, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of others; extend hospitality to strangers.” That’s the way to love. For real.
Keep it real,
K
February 11th:
“But you, O Lord, do not be far off! You are my help; hasten to my aid.” Psalm 22:19
Does anyone still think that New Yorkers are self-absorbed, heartless people? Don’t answer that.
Yesterday, I was walking north on Central Park West, enjoying the sunshine and ignoring the frigid temperature. I was almost to the Museum of Natural History when the screech of brakes pulled my attention away from the lovely snow-covered park. In the middle of the street was a young teenage girl, lying on her still-on backpack. And beside her was the taxi that had sideswiped her as she crossed the street alone.
Everything stopped. Traffic, people, time. Everything except the girl, who calmly stood up and finished walking to the park side of the avenue. “I’m alright!” she called.
The taxi driver pulled over to talk to her. A lady across the street called over, “Are you sure?” She nodded. “Really?” She nodded. Clearly, she was embarrassed. But was that all? Nobody left. Maybe she wasn’t concerned, but dozens of us were worried on her behalf.
When she sat down on a bench beside the park, I went up to her, feeling her embarrassment but unable to just walk by. “I’m sorry to bug you, but is everything working?” I made her wave her arms. For the first time, she smiled. Good sign. “Just shook up, right?” The smile went away.
I left her alone, knowing that we’re never really alone.
Blessings,
K
February 10th:
“Be angry, but do not stumble; commune with your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Selah. Psalm 4:4
This may be getting to you too late for you to commune with your heart on your bed. You may already be up and racing around, or on the subway trying to get internet service underground as you speed, or crawl, to work. Or you may already be at work, staring dazed at your computer screen.
So I want to ignore most of that verse. Think of it tomorrow morning when the alarm rings, and hit the snooze button. And just before you fall back asleep, commune with your heart. Enjoy being with yourself!
Instead, today, think about that little last word, Selah.
What’s that mean? I don’t know. Nobody knows. That’s why the wise don’t bother to translate it. But they don’t want to get rid of it, either. They just leave it there in Hebrew. Selah.
Best guess: it’s some sort of musical notation. Remember that the psalms were written to be sung. It may mean something like ‘pause for a while.’ It may be related to a word meaning ‘to hang’. Just hang there a minute. Just stop and let things sink in.
While it may be too late to commune with your hearts on your beds, it’s never too late to hang for a minute. To pause. To stop racing around and just let things be. This day is only happening once in your lifetime. Don’t miss it.
I’ll leave you with the words to this song of the seventies:
Pause a while, pause a while,
in the humdrum of the city, and behind the cloister wall;
In the early morning and when shadows start to fall.
See creation bending to the maker of it all,
And all you have to do is pause awhile.
Selah.
Blessings,
K
February 9th:
“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Hebrews 13:2
Early in the morning, I often come come across our shelter guests, sitting in the church lobby, waiting for the bus to pick them up take them to their days, their jobs, their lives. It’s early, and for many it’s clearly been a short night. So it is usually a pretty silent crowd that greets me.
But the other day, one guest looked up as I walked past, and gave a terrific smile. “Thanks for having us!” she said.
It was a very small thing. But I think it changed my day.
All day long I was aware of other angels.
There was a kid on the subway who actually slid over to make a spot for me. Not because he thought I was a senior citizen. There was a woman on the check-out line who took one look at the pile of groceries balanced in my arms and insisted I go ahead of her.
Hospitality is contagious. Especially the radical, unexpected sort we are asked to practice.
Be blessings,
K
February 8th:
“Thomas said to Jesus, ‘We do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?’ And Jesus, ‘I am the way.”
John 14:5
John 14:5
I was heading down to Penn Station on the #1 train. We stopped at 66th Street. “Lincoln Center,” said the conductor. “Sixty-sixth Street next.”
People getting on and getting off the train stopped. We were already at 66th Street. What did he mean?
The conductor could see that folks weren’t moving. “Sixty-sixth next!” he said, with greater emphasis. “We’re going local,” he added, as though that helped any. People shifted a bit, but still hesitated.
“Fifty-ninth next!” he suddenly blurted, realizing his error. People smiled, got on or off the train, and onward we went.
It’s good to know where you are. But what a gift to also know where you’re heading.
Blessings,
K
February 7th:
“Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight… and run with perseverance the race that is set before us…” Hebrews 12:1
This morning I heard on the BBC the voice of Stefaan Engels, a Belgian man who just completed 365 marathons in as many days. That kind of story usually just makes me feel tired. But not today.
Why did he do it? He really wanted to. He thought he could. And his friends thought he could.
He was asked whether there was ever a moment when he just didn’t feel like running. And he said, of course, every day. But he had a lot of people encouraging him, telling him, ok, one more, you can do this. One more.
It sounded to me like a cloud of witnesses.
I’ll bet none of is is running a marathon today, though I know some of you have done that. But you are facing some other challenges. And I, for one, am proud to be one of your cloud of witnesses, cheering you on.
You can do this.
Blessings,
K
February 3rd:
“Lift up your voice like a trumpet!” Isaiah 58:1
It always pays to keep reading. You can get pretty discouraged reading Isaiah 58. I don’t welcome the prescribed task, “announce to my people their rebellion, to the house of Jacob their sins.” And verses like “Day after day my people seek me…as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness” hold too painfully true to make pleasant reading.
To make matters worse, a few verses later Isaiah tells us that God scorns our proud piety, our practiced humility, our studied spirituality. God disdains a spirituality without justice. “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free?”
That’s challenging, but mostly theoretical. But then God gets personal: ”Is it not to share your bread with the the hungry, and to bring the homeless poor into your house?”
You have to keep reading to get to the promises, but it’s worth the read: “Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly… then you shall call, and God will answer… and you will be like a watered garden, like a spring of water that never dries up.”
That might be worth it.
Blessings,
K
February 2nd:
“Judge not, that you not be judged.” Matthew 7:1
On a day so icy even some groundhogs took the day off, we were gingerly making out way along a slick sidewalk, step by icy step, when a woman stepped out of her building, dressed for success, every blond hair in place, nice black coat, and black high heels. She’s going over, I thought. But no. She quickly assessed the situation. Using the heels as crampons, driving them into the ice, she headed downtown at an astonishing pace, like Amundsen racing for the Pole.
Hope you have the day off. But if you don’t, take a day off from judging people. Or at least a few minutes!
Blessings,
K
February 1st:
“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid.” Matthew 5:14
At this moment tens of thousand of protesters are filling the streets and squares of Cairo, Egypt once again. Cairo has indeed become a city on a hill, and so many of us all around the planet are watching that city, our anxiety flavored with hope.
Of course, those in Egypt are drawing their inspiration from the events in Tunisia a few weeks ago, when, against all odds, young people gathered together, stood up together, refusing to give into the paralyzing fear that had been part of their political reality.
As I first began hearing about the demonstrations in Tunisia, I remembered the story of a Tunisian woman named Perpetua, a 20-year old Christian, newly married, newly with child, who, early in the third century, stood up to the Roman authorities who wanted her to renounce her faith and sacrifice to the emperor, Septimus Severus. Nothing new about courage in Tunisia.
When her father came to see her in prison to talk her out of her stubborn, self-destructive stance, she told him, “Father, do you see this vase, or pitcher, or whatever it is?” “I see it,” he said. “Can it ever be named anything other than what it really is?” I asked, and he said, “No.” “So I also cannot be called anything else than what I am, a Christian.”
When you know who you are, you can’t help but stand up.
Pray for the people of Egypt, individually and collectively.
Blessings,
K