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

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

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 

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 

Contact:

Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org