MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, March 3, 2014
Do all you can with what you have, in the time you have, in the place you are.
These words were spoken by a 11 year old, Nkosi Johnson, when he was invited to be the keynote speaker at the 13th International AIDS Conference, held in South Africa in 2000. The speech was given shortly before Nkosi died. Born with HIV/AIDS, he was an advocate for those suffering from this disease. His speech, given before thousands, ended with this compelling call to compassion: "Care for us and accept us. We are all human beings. We are normal. We have hands. We have feet. We can walk. We can talk. We have needs just like everyone else. We are all the same." The journalist Jim Wooten wrote the story of Nkosi in a book entitled We Are All The Same. In twelve years, Nkosi sure seemed to do all he could what he'd been given.
The church calendar made me recall Nkosi's remarkable stewardship of the brief time he was given. His words, "Do all you can..." are a variation on words spoken by another saint, from another century, John Wesley whose feast day is observed today. Here is what Wesley said:
Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as you ever can.
Wesley lived out that vision of stewardship, putting faith into action in remarkable ways in the 18th century. He formed small groups marked by personal accountability, discipleship and religious instruction. He traveled far and wide sharing the good news of his faith. Under his leadership, Methodists led on social issues of the day, including abolitionism and prison reform. He took a lot of grief from traditional Anglicans of his day, who thought he'd gone off the spiritual deep end. He was a busy guy, apparently traveling more than 250,000 miles on horseback, giving away 30,000 pounds to people in need and delivering more than 40,000 sermons. Wesley seemed to do all he could with what he'd been given.
You and I are given today, March 3, 2014. It is a unique gift. We'll never get it back once it's spent. What will we do with this gift? What new thing does God have for us: what new job, what new encounter, what new relationship, what new challenge, what new opportunity for ministry? It will be different for each one of us. Can this day be marked by a spirit of gratitude? Can we approach it with a spirit of joy? Can we approach it with courage, with heart? Can we use it to be of service to someone in need?
Today, how will you do all you can with what you have in the time you have, in the place you are?
- Jay Sidebotham
| On this day the Lord has acted; we will rejoice and be glad in it. -Psalm 118:24
We urge you not to accept the grace of God in vain. For he says, |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, February 24, 2014
Calling all Monday morning preachers.
No, it's not the ecclesiastical equivalent of Monday morning quarterbacks, not a rethinking of whatever sermon you heard yesterday.
By Monday morning preachers I draw on the wisdom of promises made in baptism. Specifically, we promise to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ. In other words, we are all preachers, all proclaimers. We are each and all called to put the good news out there in word and action, to preach the gospel at all times and, as St. Francis said, if necessary, to use words. We are each called to do that wherever God has called us, wherever God has placed us this day.
Again, we are all preachers. That means you. That means me. I was reminded of the call to proclaim good news when I noted that later this week we observe the feast of a priest named George Herbert, who died on February 27, 1633. By way of monumental understatement, he had a way with words, mixed with a heart for God. It was a winning combination, for sure. He wrote a poem (one of my favorites) called The Windows. I interpret it as a reflection on his own wonderment that he had been called to ordained ministry, his own amazement that God would and could use him. In the poem, he compares the preacher (himself? you? me?) to a stained glass window. Here's the first stanza of that poem:
Lord, how can man preach thy eternal word?
He is a brittle crazy glass;
Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford
This glorious and transcendent place,
To be a window, through thy grace.
I love this poem. It sustains me in the work I do, as it claims the foundation of God's grace. It embraces the mystery, the miracle that God uses any of us in our brittleness, in our craziness. It imagines broken shards somehow marvelously assembled into something beautiful for God when light shines through, light from beyond brittle, crazy selves. Thank God for that light. The poet marvels that we are afforded such a glorious and transcendent place, i.e., to be a window through God's grace.
So Monday morning preachers (I mean everyone reading this thing), what will be your sermon, your proclamation? How are you going to be a window of grace today?
- Jay Sidebotham
| Our God and King, you called your servant George Herbert from the pursuit of worldly honors to be a pastor of souls, a poet, and a priest in your temple: Give us grace, we pray, joyfully to perform the tasks you give us to do knowing that nothing is menial or common that is done for your sake. Amen. |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, February 17, 2014
Power
The storm that swept through North Carolina last week on its way up I-95 left way too many people without electricity. That experience of powerlessness was not only inconvenient, but caused hardship for many. But I'm going to go out on a limb here (if there's one left) and say that events like this can be growth opportunities, chances to learn as we consider that which we take for granted, moments to focus on gratitude for the people (and their inventions) that make life easier on a daily basis. Such events can be reminders of the fragility, the changes and chances of life, and of our dependence on powers greater than our own.
Around our house, we had a relatively few hours without electricity. It meant dinner by candlelight, kind of romantic. It meant no evening news, which some might count a blessing. It meant regret that I hadn't charged my iPad. Even small shifts in routine make us appreciate the power that makes our lives simpler and more comfortable.
Perhaps it's a preacher's prerogative (or occupational hazard), but I'm pondering the spiritual application, potential parables for our lives which are often marked by fragility, uncertainty, contingency, change beyond our control. We easily forget that those spiritual lives unfold in absolute dependence (Paul Tillich's phrase, not mine) on a power greater than ourselves. Our spiritual lives function best when we plug into that power. Like my uncharged Ipad, there's only so long we can function on our own reserves.
Which brings me to the Sermon on the Mount. On Sundays, we are reading through the teaching found in Matthew 5-7. Jesus gathers his disciples to tell them how to live as his followers in the world. The sermon begins with the beatitudes, the first of which is most commonly translated: Blessed are the poor in spirit. I'm not entirely certain what it means to be poor in spirit. I'm not even sure it's a good thing. Which is why I've grown fond of one translation which phrases the opening beatitude this way: Blessed are those who know their need of God. That I get.
After the opening beatitudes, Jesus speaks to his disciples and gives a couple images to help them think about ways to be of service in the world. Jesus tells his disciples that they are to be salt and they are to be light. If they are to be light of the world, where do they find that power? We begin to discover an answer when we recognize our own powerlessness, our own limitations, our own shortcomings. Left to our own resources, the light won't shine that brightly. It won't shine for very long. One way or another, we are called to move toward spiritual resources of power, energy, dynamism that will sustain, resources beyond ourselves. What might those resources be in your life? Worship? Service? Prayer? Reflection on scripture? Silence? Gratitude? Generosity? Something else? How can you plug into those resources today? Where will you find your power?
- Jay Sidebotham
| I pray that according to the riches of God's glory, God may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
Ephesians 3:16-21 Let your let so shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:16 |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, February 10, 2014
Grace happens
Where do you see it?
Last Friday, I came out of a day's worth of meetings, got into my car and turned the key on the ignition. Lights never before seen on my dashboard flashed. I heard strange something-is-not right noises. Rapid fire mechanical diagnosis: I left the headlights on all day. The battery was dead. I envisioned a long wait and a big bill if I called road repair. Then I saw a guy unloading a van nearby and asked if he had cables. Even though he was in the middle of a delivery, he dropped what he was doing, pulled the van over, and got my car going. I offered him money. He wouldn't take it. Grace happens.
The week before, I was giving a presentation, after which a number of folks lined up to talk about what I had talked about. As those conversations came to a close, I picked up my bag and realized my excessively heavy laptop was not in the bag. It was, in fact, missing. My life was on that thing. I freaked out. I called lost and found, and told them with certainty where I had left it. The head of facilities, a guy with lots more important things to do than look for my laptop, dropped what he was doing. He found it in a totally different place than I had told him. Grace happens.
Later this morning, I will preside at a graveside for the mother of an old friend. My friend's mother died at age 91. In her youth, this woman had danced with the Ballet Russe. When she moved back home, she shared what she had learned with young people. She offered these lessons to children who could not afford to pay for them, venturing into parts of town that she had no business frequenting. In a time of hardened racial divide, she bridged those divisions for the sake of art, indeed, for the sake of grace in its many splendoured meanings. Grace happens.
I'm not sure that Jesus ever used the word "grace". But he told stories of where it shows up in life, sometimes in ways that are so unusual that they seem downright irritating. A father welcomes home the errant younger son who had flushed the inheritance down the toilet. The father throws a party for the boy while the older brother looks on, steaming with resentment. Grace happens. An employer pays workers the same whether they worked 8 hours or 8 minutes. Grace happens. A detested outsider shows pity to a crime victim while the insiders, the representatives of institutional religion, perhaps the Episcopal clergy of the day walk on by. The Samaritan is from that point known to be good. Grace happens.
Our world is starved for grace. God extends it to us, and it often gets expressed in the ways we respond to each other. Think of a time, a story, an episode of grace in your life. Give thanks for that gift. Today, let grace happen. Make grace happen.
- Jay Sidebotham
| The grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all. -Titus 2:14
Grace must find expression in life. Otherwise it is not grace. -Karl Barth May God give you grace never to sell yourself short, grace to risk something big for something good, and grace to remember that the world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love. -William Sloane Coffin |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, February 3, 2014
When liturgies collide
It happened yesterday. Did you notice? There was the observance of the Super Bowl, that annual liturgy gathering millions in hope and fear, indicating much about what we worship as a culture. This morning: prayers of celebration for Seattle fans. Prayers of sympathy and consolation for Denver fans.
On the same day, there was the observance of Groundhog Day, that mysterious tradition by which a rodent ventures into meteorological prediction. I'll leave it there.
And in continuing coincidence, there was the observance of the Feast of the Presentation. On February 2, the church recalls the story of Jesus presented at the temple, as Mary and Joseph, bringing the Christ child to that holy place, where by divine direction they meet Simeon and Anna. (Read the story in Luke 2:22-40). Both Simeon and Anna are getting on in years. Both had heard a promise that God's hope would be realized in their lifetimes, that they would see what God would do to save and heal his people. Accordingly, both had spent their lives in the temple, worshipping and waiting and watching and expecting to see what God would do. On in years, they never gave up hope. For that reason, they model discipleship and teach us about faith. What struck me about their witnesses was that their hope was lived out in the institution, the organized religion of their day, in and through their tradition, in community. I'm sure that was easy some days. On others, I'm certain it was hard.
They made me think about how we hold onto the hope that God will act in our lives , our world. One way is by gathering in community, organized religion in its various manifestations, ever mindful of how it works well and how it doesn't. Often when folks tell me they don't believe in organized religion, I welcome them to the Episcopal Church, because we're not that organized at all.
The challenges are real. Our culture shifts these days in regards to affiliation with church. Recent surveys polling young adults outside the church on their views of the church offer this challenge: 87% said it was too judgmental. 85% said it was too hypocritical. 72% said it was out of touch with reality. 68% said it was boring. The nicest spin I can put on it: There is a growth opportunity.
I believe we are called to stay with the church (in its many expressions) as we pray for the church, and ask God to work in it (and perhaps in spite of it) to make things new. One of my favorite prayers for the church appears in both the liturgy for ordinations and the liturgy for Good Friday. (Draw any conclusion you'd like from that coincidence.). It goes like this:
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were being cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
As we reflect on the "wonderful and sacred mystery" that is the Church, can we see it as a place where God makes things new, makes us new? That's not always easy. I suspect we've all been wounded by the church in some way. I suspect we've all had our part, witting or unwitting, in inflicting injuries that have come to others in the church. Take this Monday to think about your own part in the life of the church, in the great varieties of ways people experience Christian community. Can you see God's hope realized in and through the community? Can you do your part to help the church to grow, not so much in numbers as in depth? Do you stand in the way in any way? Do you stand on the sidelines? Knowing that we cannot be Christians in isolation (an option not given us), pray that the God of unchangeable power and eternal light will be at work in us, through us, in spite of us, making things new. Making us new. In whatever community you worship, do your part to participate in that process of renewal. Pray for the church, indeed a wonderful and sacred mystery.
And I hope you're all recovering well from the Super Bowl. And that that rodent doesn't bring us too much more snow.
- Jay Sidebotham
| A prayer for the church:
Gracious God, we pray for the church. |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, January 27, 2014
Curve balls.
Last Friday, I did my best to fly to a Vestry Retreat near Sewanee to talk about the new work I'm doing with Forward Movement, work having to do with spiritual growth. I got to the airport at 6:00am, about an hour and half early, just to make sure I was on board. Before long, I heard the news delivered cheerfully over the p.a. system, informing us that the night before, someone had left the battery on. The plane would not start, and would not be leaving, oh, for a while. The upshot was that there would be no upshot any time soon. Again, the chipper delivery of the news added to my irritation. After a long time on long lines and not a few phone conversations, I was rerouted. I spent a whole lot of time in various airports and arrived late and frazzled for the retreat. My irritated disposition made my upcoming presentation about spiritual growth seem thin. I was keenly aware of my personal growth opportunities. And I was ashamed of myself when I reflected on stories of fellow passengers, including a couple who would miss their daughter's wedding rehearsal dinner, a sister who would be the only sibling not able to attend a funeral.
The next day, I got to the airport allowing plenty of time before my return flight, eager to get home early enough to get a good night's sleep. We were about to load the plane when the woman behind the counter came on the p.a. and cheerfully let us know that the flight would be delayed several hours because there was some mechanical difficulty. They'd let us know if and when it would all be corrected. That's all. Standing on a long line to rebook, I turned to the man behind me, who had never been on a plane before. We shrugged shoulders. I said: "Serenity prayer." He nodded knowingly.
For me, at least on this occasion, a delayed flight is what my kids call a rich person problem. It's an inconvenience of minor proportion, a curve ball but mostly inconsequential. It hardly qualifies as hardship. As my wise wife would advise, I should breathe. I wish I was spiritually evolved enough to hear her voice, or for that matter, to embrace what I espouse, which is that the Serenity Prayer is the way to approach moments like this.
It's ironic to me that as I'm flying around talking to clergy and lay leaders about spiritual growth, an inconvenient airline delay brings turbulence to my spiritual equilibrium. Coping with airline travel is a persistent growth edge for me. I've got lessons to learn for sure. It is a parable for how to navigate circumstances beyond our control, knowing that life happens instead of what we plan. What's your growth edge?
This Monday, as you go about your day guided by your to-do list, chances are something will happen to scramble that list. Forces beyond your power may mock a carefully crafted agenda for the day, the week, the year. Some of those forces will be significant, maybe even tragic. Some will simply be inconvenient. What will it take for you to breathe through them? To see them in perspective. To trust that all will be well. To be thankful for what you have. To see today as a gift. To view curve balls as opportunities, and not as cosmic conspiracy. To learn from the moment.
We never know what's coming. But we are not left alone. In it all, we are beloved. I wish I could really and always remember that. All will be well. A flight delay, or some other innocuous interruption, may be just the thing to remind us of that truth. Are we learners?
- Jay Sidebotham
| God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; Courage to change the things I can; And wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it. Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to his will; That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with him forever in the next. Amen. |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, January 20, 2014
Here am I. > Who am I?
As we remember today the life and witness and ministry of Martin Luther King, Jr, a question to consider in free time afforded by a federal holiday: How does his call inform your call and mine?
Our church views this contemporary saint as a modern-day Moses. So we read the story from Exodus about the call of Moses, that whole burning bush episode. (A portion of the story is printed in the side column.) It begins with Moses in the wilderness, noticing this unusual sight: a bush that burns but is not consumed with, oh by the way, a voice coming out of it. I imagine that voice sounds like James Earl Jones, or the guy on the Allstate commercials. Moses turns aside to look at the sight (What would have happened if he had kept going? Topic for another column) and says: Here am I.
Those are three dangerous words. As Moses opens himself to the call of God, he learns that God is paying attention to the suffering of the world and God expects Moses to do something about it.
Suddenly the words, "Here am I", become "Who am I", a response that often comes to God's call. The call just must be a wrong number. God has made a cosmic recruiting error, a bad hire. Moses does not imagine himself up to the task. I don't blame him. The suffering of the world was too great. The oppressors too powerful. The memories of Egypt and his past life too loaded.
How does God answer Moses? He doesn't tell Moses how great he is. For that matter, God doesn't remind him of the many ways Moses has fallen short. Guess what, Prince of Egypt turned shepherd: it's not about you. What is the divine answer to the question: Who am I? God says: I will be with you. Apparently, that's all Moses needs to know.
This is a day to give thanks for the Martin Luther King. It's also a day to recall that the work to which he was so deeply committed is unfinished. It's work to which we are called in our baptismal covenant, work for justice and peace, respect for the dignity of every human being. Our big and beautiful world remains broken in so many ways, with insurmountable problems around the corner and across the ocean. Racism, bigotry, discrimination, poverty, inequality, violent conflict persist. God knows about those problems, those injustices. And amazingly, God calls us, uses us to respond, to heal a hurting world.
Today, how will you say "Here am I", making yourself available to the pain of the world in some way. Maybe you'll wonder: "Who am I?" because the problems are too big, too intractable, too hard to solve. If you feel that way, and I bet we all do at some point, hear the voice that Moses heard, that Martin Luther King Jr. heard, the voice of God's compassionate, justice driven heart that says: "I will be with you."
- Jay Sidebotham
| The Collect for the Feast of Martin Luther King, Jr.
Almighty God, by the hand of Moses your servant you led your people out of slavery, and made them free at last; Grant that your Church, following the example of your prophet Martin Luther King, may resist oppression in the name of your love, and may secure for all your children the blessed liberty of the Gospel of Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. Exodus 3:7-12 The LORD said to Moses, "I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt." But Moses said to God, "Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" He said, "I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain." |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, January 13, 2014
Jesus calls us. But what does he call us?
Sheep? Servant? Friend? Disciple? In Matthew 23, Jesus refers to his disciples as students. That is one way to translate the word disciple. This morning I want to stress the less biblical sounding word student. I'm thinking about how the spiritual journey calls us to be learners.
In his new book 8 Habits of Love, the Rev. Ed Bacon (a great guy who serves as a great rector of a great church, All Saints in Pasadena) talks about what it means to become a learner. He describes a conference where participants were asked to outline their autobiography in three ways: victim, hero and learner. This approach generated three different stories with different energies and outcomes. He writes on p. 42: "A victim feels the need to be defended, vindicated, avenged. A hero needs justification, ego promotion, validation. And a learner? A learner seeks illumination, correction and direction."
Long ago, I figured out how to write my story of victim, with extraordinary proficiency in holding on to resentment. Most clergy (come on, admit it) have got some of the hero in them. I can write that story. In this chapter of my life, I want to be a better learner. I am learning that to be the path of discipleship is a matter of recognizing that wherever we are in the spiritual journey, there is more. It's a matter of knowing that we don't know what we don't know. And it's about remembering that we worship a God whose ways are higher than our ways, whose thoughts are higher than our thoughts. (Deo gracias!)
I recently heard a fine sermon at the beginning of the season of Epiphany, memorably posing a simple question: What are you looking for? That seems to be what the season of Epiphany is about, a series of stories about people on a search, whether it is those three wise guys following a star, or those disciples who answer Jesus' invitation, "Come and see." The season is about spiritual explorers, adventurers, all the more daring because they don't really know what they're looking for or where they'll end up. These learners are saints. I want to be one too.
In recent days, I've been struck with how the theme gets played out in scripture. On Saturday, the reading for Morning Prayer was from the book of Isaiah: Seek the Lord while he may be found. The next reading was from the letter to the Colossians: Seek things that are above, where Christ is. The next reading, from John 14, has one of the disciples saying to Jesus: Show us the Father and we shall be satisfied.
The good news is that in the midst of our seeking, sometimes clueless fumbling in the dark, God seeks us. That's captured in the verses from Psalm 139 printed below. That's where our faith becomes so important. While we don't know what the future holds, we know who holds the future.
Often on Sundays, we pray for those who seek God or a deeper knowledge of God. Let that prayer be a prayer for yourself today, a prayer to the God who seeks us out, so much so that he came to live among us. Resolve in this new year (it's not too late for resolutions) to be a spiritual learner, whatever that looks like. Jesus calls us to that adventure. It may take courage to answer that call, because we don't know what we don't know. Answer anyway. Get ready to grow, to learn.
- Jay Sidebotham
| You have one teacher, and you are all students.
- Matthew 23:8 Lord, you have searched me out and known me; you know my sitting down and my rising up; -Psalm 139:1-5 |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, January 6, 2014
The Feast of the Epiphany
Searching for Joy
A poem once offered as sermon in reflection on the gospel for the day (offered below).
If I could meet the magi,
The question on my mind:
What made them take that road trip?
What did they hope to find?
Assume their lives were comfortable.
It paid well to be wise.
They spent their days at camel chase.
At night they scanned the skies.
They knew the stars like back of hand.
They'd studied well and hard.
Advanced degreed astrology,
In school, they got gold stars.
Another way to ask it:
What was it they were lacking?
Was there some royal restlessness
That sent them westward packing?
One eastern night when moon was hid
And stars were shining bright,
They wisely cast a glance above
And spied a different light.
Next night the same, but brighter still.
Where did that star come from?
How could they have been missing it?
And had it been there long?
Mounting camels, off they went
Following that light.
No need to go to mapquest.
The star would steer them right.
I'm sure you've heard the gender jokes
How men can't ask directions.
Not so for these astrologers:
They made a course correction.
By calling on a colleague.
King Herod, deemed much wiser.
They asked if he would point the way.
He called in his advisers.
Who searched the scripture for a text
To pass along to them.
They told the Magi where to go
"Head straight for Bethlehem"
We each are like the magi.
I wonder if you know it.
(Though you may think it less than wise
for priest to pose as poet)
Our lives become predictable.
We live out our routines.
But then a light makes us look up
And restlessness creeps in.
We realize then we're seekers
For things that fill the bill.
Will money make us happier?
Relationships fulfill?
We sometimes shop at Herod's
(the king, and not the store)
To see if power fills that place.
We're always after more.
If we could just work harder.
The next promotion reach.
If we could just act better.
And practice what we preach.
What are you seeking in your life?
Is search for joy your quest?
Have you a clue where it is found?
Or where it's best expressed?
A search for joy can lose its way
When clouds obscure the star.
And pain of life can hide the light
And then we don't get far.
Our search for joy can get bogged down,
Get gridlocked spiritually.
Our lives get in a traffic jam
There's no green light to see.
We focus on what others have.
But what we fail to do
Is seek for joy by looking up
By looking for what's new.
What's new is represented
In Bethlehem's young boy.
That's where we find an answer
If we're really seeking joy.
Like those kings who made that trip
And left their status quoing.
There's new life to be found by all
If we will start let going.
Let go. Let God. Our travel tip.
Let star become the guide.
And know that when we take a step
We go with God beside.
We each are on a journey
One guided by the Spirit.
It sometimes is a bumpy road.
It's sometimes hard to steer it.
But the journey is a gift itself
When made by me and you.
When traveling with other folks
We come on something new.
A life we'd not expected.
Grace that helps us cope.
Light that shines in darkness.
Amid the cold night: Hope.
Community in loneliness.
A place to bring our gifts.
A common spirit traveling.
A star that spirits lifts.
It's possible to travel far
And never leave this place.
A journey of the spirit
Starts with a step toward grace.
The biggest trek can be one step
Of welcoming God's love.
Of worshipping with eyes raised up
That's how we start to move.
Our world requires magi,
Needs wise folk seeking love
Who look beyond the glitter
To see a star above.
So let's head back 2000 years
To what these magi teach us.
Across the miles, across the years
Their witnesses still reach us.
We find the magi traveling.
The Exit: Bethlehem
They're slouching in their camel seats.
The next step's up to them.
They've traveled far. They're tired.
They've quarreled just a bit.
Go right. Go left. Head north.
Head south. But it was worth the trip.
For when they met the infant king,
Entitlement surrendered,.
They offered gold, incense and myrrh
The best they had to tender.
The star they followed led them
To child they now adore
The one they flood with presents
Has given them back more.
It all made sense, so quickly clear
The reason for those miles
The search for joy now ended
With holy family smiles.
It all made sense in worship
They found it filled their needs
And when we worship Christ child king
Our search for joy succeeds.
This ending a beginning
Move ahead they must
They headed home another way
Left Herod in the dust.
Their story teaches lessons still
Through years more than 2k
It teaches us to move ahead
Go home another way.
Go forward from the place you offered
Gift on bended knee.
Go forward to the journey next
Based on Epiphany
Go forward based on glimpse of light
That guides when dark surrounds.
Go forward on your journey.
There's more joy to be found.
written by Jay Sidebotham
and offered with apologies to real poets everywhere.
| Matthew 2:1-12
In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage." When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: `And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.'" Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, "Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage." When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road. |
Contact:
Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org
