Showing posts with label Lent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lent. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 11, 2026

Gathered Together--Community Contemplative Practice

 


Jesus would also die so that God’s children scattered everywhere would be gathered together as one.                                                                                       John 11:52

Reading through the gospel of John for Lent, this verse came in today’s reading. As I read it, what came to mind was the centering prayer time that Pastor Wil is leading each week during Lent. I could see our small circle, practicing centering prayer in community.

There is something special to me about gathering together in person to practice centering prayer or lectio divina or to walk a labyrinth. These are all contemplative practices that can be done alone, but there is something powerful and compelling about being contemplative with others. It’s a completely different experience!

It makes me wonder if John, the mystical gospel writer, was looking to a day when our action in the world would flow from our gathering together as one in contemplation. Practicing silence in community invites the Spirit to speak in ways we may not hear otherwise. Collective silence can draw together scattered minds.

I know I am grateful that my church is offering opportunities this Lent to do contemplative practices in community. It is shaping my Lenten journey in meaningful ways. Gathering together with others to reflect on scripture in silence or to do a twenty-minute sit is countercultural, pushing back at our society’s demand that we must always be doing something. The good news of Jesus tells us that our worth is not tied to our ability to produce. Contemplative practices invite us to live as if we believe that to be true!


Wednesday, March 4, 2026

A Collect for Beloved Children of God

God of tears,
who is troubled by the death
of every sparrow,
how you must be grieving now.

One hundred fifty girls dead,
your children,
our children,
killed by others who are also beloved by you,
also your children,
with mothers and fathers and families of their own.

I say I want to love as you love, but my heart is
breaking.
Yes, I do want to love as you love;
help me.

Help me.

Keep me from the callousness
that cannot grieve, and yet show me
how to bear up in a world that seems to
hunger and thirst
for hate and blood and death.

Help me
to remember that there is no one
not made in your image, no one
who does not bear
your divine light within.

Give me eyes to see,
even when I don’t want
to look.

Merciful God, abide
in this desert with us.

Wednesday, February 22, 2023

A Meaningful Lent

Stop collecting treasures for your own benefit on earth, where moth and rust eat them and where thieves break in and steal them. Instead, collect treasures for yourselves in heaven, where moth and rust don’t eat them and where thieves don’t break in and steal them. Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:19-21


Included in one of the readings for Ash Wednesday, these particular verses set me thinking about past Lenten disciplines that helped me focus on collecting treasure in heaven, the practices that had staying power with me and helped me know myself and God better.

One year I took on the practice of writing a poem each day. That practice helped me to pay attention, both to what was happening around me and to what was happening within me. After all, I needed something to write a poem about. I found the practice so helpful in paying attention that I adopted for this year, to help me live into the word that is guiding me in 2023.

Another year, I worked through a Lenten book called Simplifying the Soul. What made this practice significant is that some of the exercises it suggested revealed to me attachments of which I was not aware. I learned a lot about myself working through that book. 

Years when I gave up chocolate or desserts or similar things did not have the lasting effect that these practices had. However, the year I let someone talk me into giving up coffee I found myself resentful. I learned that year not to allow anyone else to determine what my Lenten discipline should be!

The year that likely was the hardest, and yet the most transformational, was the year my practice was to not defend, justify, or explain myself when my words or actions were misconstrued. My then-husband frequently accused me of motives that had never crossed my mind, and when I would try to clarify my actions to him, things would escalate. Choosing this discipline for Lent meant I absorbed the accusations and twisting of my motives. It was so hard. 

Our natural response is to want to be understood, to be seen for who we are. To keep quiet reminded me of Isaiah 53:7: He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.

As hard as the practice was, there was less conflict in our home because I chose to keep silent. Additionally, keeping silent allowed me to see more clearly that his behavior wasn’t simple misconstruing of my actions but a form of verbal abuse. Because I wasn’t allowing myself to be drawn into an argument, I came to recognize something I hadn’t previously.

Obviously, not every Lenten discipline has had the impact that these three did. But taking the time to consider how I want to grow, how I want to be made different beyond the season of Lent, is, for me, laying up treasure in heaven. So I give careful consideration each year to the Lenten practice I will adopt, knowing this season of Lent is a chance for God to create a clean heart in me.

I invite you to pray and consider carefully how your Lenten discipline can help you lay up treasure in heaven. Blessings on your Lenten journey.

Thursday, February 25, 2021

Loving Yourself is Essential

It matters that we love ourselves, for we can't love others properly if we don't love ourselves. I hope you'll be encouraged to practice healthy self-love as a way of being a more faithful follower of Christ.

 

Thursday, February 18, 2021

Reshaping the Heart: A Lenten Journey

 

I wrote Lenten devotions for my church. You can access a digital copy here. It takes a little while to download, so consider it an opportunity to cultivate patience!

This video introduces the resource and talks a bit about Lent.

Thursday, February 11, 2021

Something to Live For

Our life. . . provokes us with the evidence that it must have meaning. . . our purpose in life is to discover this meaning, and live according to it. We have, therefore, something to live for. The process of living, of growing up, and becoming a person, is precisely the gradually increasing awareness of what that something is.                                                                                            
                                                                                                    Thomas Merton

 Something to live for. I wonder how that something changes for us over time. How often do we consciously think about it in our daily round of life? Maybe the phrase only pops into our consciousness when we are shaken awake by some struggle.

 Or maybe it is a gradually increasing awareness, as Merton says, that happens in the ordinariness of life. We might think about what it is we live for from time to time—as we turn the calendar page to a new year, as we approach a milestone birthday, or when we experience a sense of restlessness with life as it currently is for us. We may wonder what it is that we are living for at such times. If we do think about what we are living for, then a follow up question is called for: What am I doing that moves me toward meaning in my life?

 It is easy to be distracted from questions about meaning and what we live for by the thrum of daily news, activities, and a thousand (or even ten) requests for assistance—good things, but must we say yes to every one of them? We are moving, always moving, it seems, but toward what goal? We have filled the hours of yet another day, but with what? At the end of the day, in the purely literal meaning of that phrase, are we any closer to awareness of what we are living for, or moving toward meaning?

 Stephen Covey, in The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, speaks of getting caught up in “the thick of thin things.” As Lent approaches, I encourage you to walk with Jesus through this season, to see how he was aware of the meaning of his life, and how he lived according to it. He had something to live for, and he did. To reflect on the purposefulness with which he approached life can move us to clear away the clutter of “thin things” and focus on what it is that gives our lives meaning. What is it that you are living for?

 

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

An Imperfect Lent


I struggle with perfectionism. My childhood environment likely contributed to this tendency. Because I used to teach time management and spoke of the dangers of perfectionism, I hadn’t recognized it in myself until I was first introduced to the Enneagram. When I read about Enneagram type One, I realized I could not deny this part of who I am.

A social media post circulating just prior to Lent motivated me to practice a Lenten discipline of letting go of perfectionism. What I am realizing is just how subtle and insidious the demon of perfectionism acts in my life. I catch myself more often than I would have expected beating myself up for failing to do something I feel I ought to do.

Shoulds and oughts are the love language of the perfectionism demon! Grace is the antidote to combat the negative self-talk of should and oughts. Holding my successes and failures with equal grace is the discipline I am seeking to cultivate. The patience I extend to others who fail I also need to extend to myself.

I don’t expect to arrive at Easter Sunday perfectionism-free. The tendency is deep within me. However, as Enneagram literature tells me, the gift of being a One is the desire to improve the world. Improving the world means improving myself, and improving myself means allowing myself to fail with grace and without shame.


Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Selfishness and Rights


I don’t know the answer. But what I do know from reading just a few of the Facebook posts that have come out since the latest mass shooting is that selfishness is alive and well in our nation. This isn’t really new news, but fear and greed have taken the defense of our “rights” as Americans to a place where our first interest is MY rights, not your rights.

Contrast that with the instruction of Paul in Philippians and the way of Jesus, which Paul describes:
Don’t do anything for selfish purposes, but with humility think of others as better than yourselves. Instead of each person watching out for their own good, watch out for what is better for others. Adopt the attitude that was in Christ Jesus:
Though he was in the form of God,
        he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit.
But he emptied himself
        by taking the form of a slave
        and by becoming like human beings.
When he found himself in the form of a human,
        he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death,
        even death on a cross.
Therefore, God highly honored him
        and gave him a name above all names,
     so that at the name of Jesus everyone
        in heaven, on earth, and under the earth might bow
        and every tongue confess that
            Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Especially in this season of Lent, which is time we set aside for contemplating how we need to conform ourselves to the image of Christ, should we not be watching out for what is better for others? Should we not be willing to empty ourselves of self-interest as Jesus did?

Is there no longer a place in our country for self-denial, compassion and willingness to listen to one another? At the very least, is there a place among Christians for such behavior?

What might be different in our nation if Christians “adopted the attitude that was in Christ Jesus”?

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Ashes


The remains of those whose love brought me into life
I stared at. Two piles of ashes on the hilltop of the island
across the water from the house they loved
in their retirement.

Two metal tags the only marker of place.
I wondered how long these would remain.
Would the bald eagles that nest on that island
add them to their nest, a bit of shiny amid twigs?
Would deer step on them?
My parents would be thrilled with either possibility.

My life has changed much
since the day we paddled to the island
to place their ashes there.
I hold the memories, both good and difficult.
I hold the knowing of their love for me.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Yes!

2 Corinthians 1:19-20

Christ is risen and so am I:
   my first thought on waking today.
What great surprise—
   the powers that rule are overthrown
   not by force but by love.
Greed, jealousy, hate, fear outwitted.
Peace, joy, grace, abundance flow
drowning the armies of small-mindedness.

Sing, dance, praise the God of life,
the God of love,
the God of YES!

Saturday, April 15, 2017

Holy Saturday

1 Kings 19:11-13

Holy Saturday recalls those times of waking up
to find no miracle. What you hoped was a dream
isn’t.
The pain of loss sharp, acute.
The storm has wreaked its havoc.
Life as it was is gone
forever.
Shock and disorientation immobilize.
The mind too numb to imagine new.
Be still.
Wait.

Friday, April 14, 2017

Forsaken

Mark 15:33-34

It may be the aloneness after death,
when all have returned to their homes
and you are left with memories and emptiness.
It may be the grind of medical treatments
that ravage body and spirit
by their seeming neverendedness.
It may be a child's innocent request for candy
that makes the heart ache,
weighed against unpaid bills and an empty refrigerator.
It may be the weariness of living
with misunderstanding, betrayal and false accusation.
It may be the daily fear of deportation
or bullying or prejudice.
It may be the experience of exile with no place to go
or a caregiver who receives no respite.
It may be a man who hangs on a cross.

Forsakenness is the darkest of days,
the deepest pit, the absolute emptiest . . . hopelessness.

Thursday, April 13, 2017

God Who Understands

Psalm 56

When life abruptly changes
   God have mercy on me.
When friends become betrayers
   God have mercy on me.
When I have been wrongly accused
   God have mercy on me.
When the next step is utterly dark
   God have mercy on me.
When I feel alone in the wilderness
   God have mercy on me.
When I struggle to trust you
   God have mercy on me.
Remind me of your faithful love,
   God of mercy.
Be my companion, my savior,
   God of gentleness.
All my hope is in you,
   God who overcomes.
You have traveled the path of suffering yourself
   and you travel it with me.
Thanks be to you, O God.

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Entombed

John 11:1-44

Jesus, I think of you crying at the grief of your friends,
Martha and Mary, and over the death of Lazarus.
Even in your tears you were disparaged by others.
We can be so cynical and mean to each other.
Maybe your tears were also because of that.

Today, Christ, you still cry for those entombed and those
who love them, whether the tomb is death,
prison, disease, oppression or fear.
You cry for the cynics, the proud and powerful who
do not even know they are dead, who are unaware
they are entombed by their pride, their power, their hate.
The stench is terrible and you cry.
But you do not turn away.
You remove the stone.
You call us out of the tomb.
You unbind us and set us free.
You have the power to speak us into life.
Are we listening?

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Exuberance

Jeremiah 31:2-13

Grace in the wilderness!
A foretaste of freedom, of life
abundant, new, filled with surprise!
God-sized gifts, deepest longings met,
my heart bursts with love and praise.
Loved with a love that lasts
forever. Forever! Home—
extravagant garden of God’s heart.
I dance and dwell in gratitude,
laughter my song of joy!

Monday, April 10, 2017

Songs of Praise

Psalm 148

Rambling robin song greets me in the early morning darkness.
Wrens and mockingbirds belt out their praise and I wonder—
how does the wren bring so much volume from its tiny body,
how does the mockingbird remember all the songs it sings?
When I’m lucky, I hear the soft lament of the song sparrow,
reminding me that lament is also praise.
And in the morning light the starlings’ song makes me smile.
Each bird sings its praise using its unique voice, and so it is with us.
What song am I given to sing?
What song is yours?

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Arboretum

Genesis 2:4-14

Season after season I walks these paths.
Always they are fresh, offering me
something new, hawking their wares loudly or
coyly challenging me to discover what’s changed
since last I ventured here. My eyes, ears and feet
argue—who will lead the way? So much to see,
so much to hear—I’m almost frozen in place taking it in,
though my feet, like police, say move on, move on.
For all I see, I still miss much.
My brain cannot process all the sounds I hear, and my feet
never get to walk as far and fast as they’d like.
With such abundance in one small place
I cannot fathom the superfluity of God in all the world.

Friday, April 7, 2017

Welcome

Luke 19:1-6

“. . . come down at once. I must stay in your home today.”

Possessions and demands once occupied my life—
stuff to do, stuff to tend. Schedule and home
clutter weighed me down, wearied me.

Simplicity of home and heart now allows for spontaneity.
Lightness of spirit makes for hospitable space. I have room
for laughter, love, tears and koinonia—room for what is
most precious.

Welcome friends.
Welcome love.
Welcome life.
Welcome Christ.

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Threshold

Genesis 32:6-12

Sometimes the threat seems bigger than we can address.
We feel small and alone even surrounded by people who love us.
Sometimes way forward is impossible to see, and we feel trapped—
unable to go back and afraid to take a step into an unknown future.
That is when memory gifts us (if we let it)
with experiences from earlier times when we were in a similar place
and lived through it by God’s faithfulness.
Jacob came full circle, beginning with a desert promise,
recalled as he stood at another desert threshold.
Life gives us many such places—thresholds,
points of uncertainty, tension and challenge—places of coming
full circle, of familiar unfamiliarity, where we know
we may be afraid, but we won’t be alone.