Saturday, July 19, 2014

“…so said all the disciples."

Today’s gospel reading is Matthew 26:26-35. The last supper,  Jesus’ prophesy that the disciples will “all become deserters,” and Peter’s declaration (v. 34), “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.”

Then verse 35, “And so said all the disciples.” 

Peter gets the bad rap. He’s the one quoted in the gospels. But, “So said all the disciples”! They all promised fidelity. And then they all panicked and ran for cover.

Growing up, I heard the stories from the Bible as stories happening to other people. The Israelites crossed the Red Sea, wandered in the wilderness, disobeyed God, and complained when manna became a boring staple. Samson became proud and arrogant. The disciples tripped over each other, argued, and missed the point many times. Then there were the Pharisees and Sadducees. Terrible ones, they. Sure, there were stories about people doing the right thing—Miriam hiding her baby brother, Ruth sticking by Naomi, Rahab protecting the spies, John the Baptist prophesying, even the disciples managing, on occasion, to figure things out.

But always I saw these as stories about other people in other times. Sure we were to learn from their examples, but the stories were about the other. They were someone else’s stories.

Chalk it up to ignorance, immaturity, “seeing through a glass darkly.”

I don’t know that I’m any smarter or mature (aged, yes). And my eyesight continues to deteriorate with the passage of time. But God in Her and His graciousness helped me to see that these are my stories also.

So when Peter and the disciples promise that they will stick by Jesus no matter what, I am there. It’s not just that I make those promises, then run for cover when exhaustion, pride, frustration, and life challenge me to a “double-dog-dare.” I am there with that group of brothers in the middle of the night. I stand with the whole lot and promise, “I will not deny you.” I am implicated. Those are my words, too.

But that doesn’t keep Jesus from loving me, from coming back and extending grace and love. Even days later, when I don’t recognize Him, Jesus walks with me on the road.








Tuesday, July 15, 2014

A few reminders

God, Karma, the Holy Spirit, the alignment of stars? Who knows. But over the last few weeks (while I’ve been chasing my tale in a mad frenzy to stay “on top of things”), I’ve tripped over a few reminders about two things that are important: mindfulness and listening.

Thanks to OnBeing interviews with social psychologist Ellen Langer and StoryCorps creator David Isay for shaking me awake (or settling me down?).

Langer describes mindfulness as “the very simple process of actively noticing new things.” It’s paying attention and looking at a person or event or situation with eyes open to something completely new. It’s leaving behind expectations (or “unplanned resentments”).  Isay talks about the sacred spaces of listening and how most people (most of us) simply want that—to be listened to. Listening in this way is mindfulness. It’s being open and awake to the other person and to her or his story. It’s honoring the holiness of that person, a child of God.

From Langer and Isay I headed over to Parker Palmer and the Center for Courage and Renewal and references to sacred listening. These forays reminded me of experiences with spiritual directors and counselors who provided sacred space for listening and opened doors to whispers of truth.

Another stopover: Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s “Advice to Christians.”   Something we Christians should take to heart in our dealings with each other, as much as in our relationships with those who do not profess a faith in Christ! Echoes the quotation attributed to St. Francis of Assisi, “Preach the gospel always, and if necessary, use words.”

We waste so much time trying to convince others of our points of view. We argue and posture and defend. How many times would we be better served, would we better serve the other person, if we just listened?

The best bit comes from David Isay's story about Dan Rather's interview with Mother Theresa.
He asked her what she said during her prayers. And she said, “I listen.” Rather then said, “Well, then what does God say to you?” And she said, “He listens.”