Integrity

What does it mean to live with integrity? The word “integrity” pops up twice in the psalm printed above, a psalm you may have heard in church yesterday. How do you understand the word? Here’s what I’m thinking: to live with integrity is to live without distraction. It is that virtue that allows us to keep our eyes on the prize, whatever we deem that prize to be. Hopefully, it is some high and holy end. Integrity is the ability to keep the main thing the main thing.

Dictionary definitions describe integrity as a matter of wholeness or completeness. They speak of incorruptibility. They speak of soundness, a solid foundation. Each of those elements can be found in the psalm. Incorruptibility comes with trust in the Lord, without faltering (verse 1). It comes with a refusal to spend time with what is worthless (v. 4). Soundness comes with a firm foundation, feet standing on level ground (v. 22), which goes back to trust. It comes with clear purpose, in the case of this psalm, keeping the love of God before our eyes (v. 3) Completeness comes with a rigorous inventory of one’s own spiritual life, an examination of heart and mind (v. 2). All of it has to do with peeling away distraction. Lord knows, we’ve got all kinds of distractions surrounding us.

For me, integrity is related to sincerity. I’ve heard this about the etymology of sincerity, which some sources dispute. The idea I like (if it’s not true, it ought to be) has to do with wax, with the idea that sincerity comes from two Latin words: sine “without” and cera “wax.” Both suggest ancient Roman craftspersons, marble workers who would cover imperfections in the stone with wax, much as unscrupulous antique dealers might rub wax to hide a scratch in wood. There are also stories that unprincipled bricklayers would use wax instead of cement. When the wax melted, bricks could shift and structures collapse. The claim that something was “sine cera,” without wax, would therefore be significant.

As I reflect on these words, integrity and sincerity, I’m hearing phrases from several collects in the Prayer Book, as well as the Easter canticle “Christ our Passover.” Each end with a call to live our lives with sincerity and truth. I’m hearing the words of the post-communion prayer which calls us to worship with gladness and singleness of heart. I’m thinking of Kierkegaard’s claim that purity of heart is to will one thing. And I hold that in tension with the caution of Bishop Alan Gates (which I cite often as a reflection of my own interior life) who said he never met a motive that wasn’t mixed.

Perhaps the important question is to think about what is that one thing from which we may be distracted. What is that pearl of great price? Again, the psalm suggests that it’s the love of God held always before our eyes.. Our psalm suggests that we stay in touch with that love, we walk in integrity as we worship (v. 6-8), as we recognize that God is the star of the story, not the church, not ourselves, certainly not our political leaders or their agendas.

For those who swim in the Christian stream, that goal is to keep Jesus at the center. As we are surrounded by possibilities for distraction, we gather to hear God’s word and share the bread and wine. On our own, we devote ourselves to spiritual practices. We find ways to do what Jesus did, to serve, all of which helps us keep our eyes on that prize. I’m thinking that’s what it means to live with integrity, and to walk in sincerity and truth.

Maybe more than defining integrity, we might want to think of where we see it at work in the world, or more to the point, who models integrity. There are biblical examples. The word integrity doesn’t show up often in scripture, only once in the New Testament, mostly in the Psalms and Proverbs. It also shows up several times in the book of Job. In the mystery of that book, an exploration of the problem of evil, Job models integrity. As bit by bit, everything is taken away from him, he remains on track, even if he faces life-threatening distraction, even as he gets mad, even as he asks hard questions.

Can you think of more contemporary models of integrity? As I reflected on this virtue, I was mindful of Jimmy Carter’s 100^th birthday last week. He said: I have one life and one chance to make it count for something… My faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference. I give thanks for the ways he models integrity, sincerity and truth.

Spend some time thinking this week about where you see models of integrity, and ask God to help you grow in this way, with gladness and singleness of heart, in sincerity and truth.

–Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for the January 2025 cohort)  Sign up now!

Angels, aware and unaware

Today we observe the Feast of St. Michael and All Angels, usually observed on September 29, which this year fell on a superseding Sunday. So the feast got bumped. Regardless, the feast gives us occasion to think about angels. The psalm appointed for this celebration (see above) mentions angels as just one of the ways that the Lord is blessed. According to the psalmist, they do the Lord’s bidding.

Angels show up all over the Bible. Early in the Book of Genesis, an angel guards the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve get the boot. Fast forward to the Book of Revelation and St. Michael, the archangel, engages in a fierce battle. There was war in heaven. In between, angels show up at critical moments: An angel endows Balaam’s ass with verbal skills. An angel meets depressed and self-pitying Elijah and tells him to have a snack and take a nap. (Good advice for any who are down in the dumps.) Angels announce the birth of John the Baptist and Jesus. A sky full of angels told shepherds to head to Bethlehem. Note: King James tells us the shepherds were sore afraid. Angels announce resurrection on Easter morning, again triggering fear.

We see that quite often the opening words from angels: Fear not. What do you think is scary about that kind of encounter? Sure there’s an element of surprise. But the appearance of an angel also suggests that things are about to change. No more same old same old. Transformation is possible. Something new is emerging.

The word angel means messenger. Understood as such, there are angels all around us, spiritual forces doing God’s bidding, bringing us holy messages. Where have you run across an angel?

I do think that I’ve seen angels. Once when I was in college, I was standing alone facing a difficult moment, about to have a meeting to try to resolve a complicated relationship, praying about that, prayer as a kind of last resort. As I was waiting, a disheveled young man in dirty clothes approached. We exchanged pleasantries. Then he asked if he could pray for me. He put his hand on my forehead. I still remember the force of his hand. He prayed out loud for me. And then he left. Never saw him again. It was not the kind of encounter depicted by Fra Angelico at the annunciation (I wish). It was no vision of winged creature, radiant and sparkly. But I’ve always thought this guy might have been an angel. Have you ever had a similar kind of experience?

In the liturgy of Holy Eucharist, one of the most striking, even transcendent phrases suggests that we pray with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. We’re part of that heavenly chorus. (Who knew? Who me?) We’re in this together. We’re not alone. Together in this great chorus, we are invited to do God’s bidding.

This week, keep your eyes open for angels, remembering that in the New Testament letter to the Hebrews (Hebrews 13.2), we are presented with the possibility that when we welcome strangers, we may be entertaining angels unaware. And if you catch a glimmer of angel’s wings, consider the ways that you might join them this week in doing God’s bidding.

–Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for the January 2025 cohort)  Sign up now!

Knowing God

The longer I’m on this spiritual journey, the more I marvel at the mystery of what it means to know God. People talk about it a lot in the Bible and in religious circles. I feel like I’ve run across people who make me think: “That person knows God.” But for me, the mystery deepens with every passing day as I’m increasingly aware of the limits of my ability to comprehend what it means to know God.

I’m thinking about all this in response to the psalm printed above, a psalm you may have heard in church yesterday. It comes near the end of the Book of Psalms, when the tone shifts to a focus on praise. We’ve heard all kinds of voices in the psalter: lament, fear, vengeance, regret, forsakenness, even some whining. And as the collection of 150 psalms winds up, again and again the theme is praise, which is really about celebrating the character of God. For those of us who sense audacity in the claim to know God, psalms like this one give us insight into the character of the Holy One. Of all the things that the psalmist could say, these are the kinds of things that merit our praise.

God is the one who brings justice to people who are oppressed, food to the hungry. God sets prisoners free, opens the eyes of the blind. God lifts up those who are bowed down. God cares for the stranger, and sustains the orphan and widow.

That picture of God is reflected in the inaugural sermon Jesus gave in his hometown synagogue (to mixed reviews). As recorded in Luke 4, Jesus stood before the congregation and read from the prophet Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Jesus rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

In a bold affirmation of the incarnation (another fathomless mystery), Jesus seems to claim that he is one with the God revealed in the Hebrew Scriptures. They share the same character, the same heart. Jesus thereby gives us a window on that divine character. Again, it’s an audacious thing for Jesus to infer. So much so that the congregation tried to throw Jesus over a cliff. I’ve had negative reactions to sermons, but this is a whole other level.

There is, of course a sense in which we understand this divine ministry as symbolic. All of us have hunger, hunger for meaning or relationship. All of us can cite oppression from the judgement of the world. All of us are blind in some way, failing to see what is right before us, failing to see Christ in all persons, for instance. All of us are prisoners of some sort, captive to addiction or resentment. Our faith tells us that Jesus can reach each one of us in those places with liberating, life-giving, loving presence.

But we should be careful not to over spiritualize this. The church over the centuries, on good days, has recognized that a big part of its ministry is taking this vision quite literally: offering food to those who are hungry, worshipping God by going to the kitchen. The church has recognized its call to healing ministry, offering welcome to the stranger. There are ways great and small we can do that. We can do that in our common life with the ways we vote and the ways we advocate for justice. We do that when we fulfill the baptismal promises to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to love neighbor as self, to strive for justice and peace, to respect the dignity of every human being.

The psalmist makes the following connection for us: We do all those things because that is what the God we worship does. We do all those things because that is what Jesus came to do. We do all those things because we are now Christ’s hands and feet in the world. And here’s another mystery. As we serve in this way, we not only get to know more about God’s character. We come to know God, to enter into deeper relationship with the Holy One.

As St. Paul said, we now see through a glass darkly. May we have eyes to see the needs around us and to reflect God’s character this week. There’s probably a specific way you can do that. I bet your church can help make that possible. Give it a try and see if in any way it gives a glimmer of the character of the God we worship, the God who came to us in the form of a servant.

–Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for the January 2025 cohort)  Sign up now!

Lord, who may dwell in your tabernacle?

Excellent question.

The psalms are full of those kinds of questions, questions that reach across the centuries to challenge us on this Monday morning to think about our own spiritual journey. According to the psalm (printed above and included in the lectionary heard yesterday in church), it seems to be a pretty high bar for who may dwell in the Lord’s tabernacle.

Check out what it takes to obtain admission: Someone who leads a blameless life, does what is right (presumably all of the time), speaks truth with no guile, does no evil, bears no contempt, The list goes on, but I didn’t make it past the first hurdle.

In discussion with a friend who is a rabbi, he shared his understanding of sin. He cited archery as a metaphor, saying that sin is a matter of missing the mark. As St. Paul put it in his letter to the Roman church, sin is a matter of falling short of the glory of God. St. Paul also says that all have sinned. We echo that in the liturgy of our church when we include confession. So perhaps the answer to the psalmist’s good question is that none of us, left to our own devices, can come into that kind of close relationship with the Holy One. There’s just too much going on in our lives, too much going on in our hearts that draws us from the love of God.

So does this mean that the Lord is all alone in that tabernacle? Does anyone make the cut?

That’s where grace comes in. And I’m wondering where you have experienced grace. Maybe you’ve wronged someone and they’ve forgiven you. Maybe you’ve come to some sense that God extended forgiveness to you. Maybe you can hear Jesus’ words from the cross spoken directly to you: Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing. Maybe you see yourself in Jesus’ story about the prodigal son, a boy who got off track but was welcomed back by his father without condition.

So who can dwell in the holy tabernacle? On the one hand, the answer is no one. On the other hand, the answer is anyone. Taking a broad view of all of scripture, maybe it’s someone who has figured out how to embrace grace, someone who begins to build a life based on that good news, someone who trusts that such good news is true.

The good news of amazing grace doesn’t invalidate the challenge of this psalm. The psalm provides a road map for how we are called to live, taking steps each day to lead a more blameless life, working on increasing truthfulness in our speech, taking a look at where we participate in evil, or where we harbor contempt for others (maybe especially in an election season marked by division in our nation). And doing it all not to earn admission to the tabernacle, but simply as an expression of gratitude for grace that has been shown. A feature of this grace is that when the standard seems too high and our efforts fall short, we are reminded that we are not left alone in the process. We are blessed with a higher power.

This week, reflect on how grace has come into your life. What was that experience like? Maybe journal about it. Maybe tell someone else about (not a particularly Episcopal thing to do.) And then consider the ways in which your life can be a grateful reflection of the gifts that have come your way, showing grace because you have come to know grace.

–Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for Fall 2024 cohort)  Sign up now!

Calling all pilgrims

I couldn’t find any other place in scripture where the word “pilgrim” appears. It only seems to show up in the psalm printed above, a psalm you might have heard in church yesterday. The term is probably most readily associated in our culture with the first Thanksgiving in New England, which may or may not help us recognize the deep meaning of the word.

As distinct from a tourist, a pilgrim is someone who travels with a distinct purpose. Here’s how one travel site described the difference: Tourists are seeking relaxation, entertainment, and a break from everyday lives. Pilgrims, on the other hand, are seeking a deeper connection with their faith or with the universe. They are often on a quest for self-discovery and personal growth.

In other words, pilgrims are looking for something and they don’t find it by staying put. That restless quest is very much at the heart of our Christian faith. Jesus told the first disciples: Follow me. He set them on a journey. When they asked where they were headed, he simply said: Come and see. First Christians were not called Christians. They were called people of the way. On many days, I wish we’d kept that name. The term Christian suggests arrival, maybe even institution. There’s little of that when we speak of people on the way.

An insight from pastor and smart guy Brian McLaren has guided me in my ministry. He highlighted this question for our churches and denominations: Are we a club for the spiritually elite who pretend to have arrived or a school for disciples who are on the way? Asked another way: are we on a pilgrimage?

I’ve made a few pilgrimages over the course of my life, some international, some not. Friends have made powerful, transformative pilgrimages to the camino in Spain, to holy rivers in India, to sacred sites in Jerusalem, to remote islands like Iona. All thin places where discovery can happen as the distance between heaven and earth diminishes. A.k.a., thin places. Those journeys have resulted in spiritual growth, transformed lives.

But it seems to me that you don’t need to contend with air travel in order to experience this kind of discovery, for which I say, “Thanks be to God.” What seems critical is the pilgrim’s mindset. It is as the psalmist says a matter of having our heart set on the pilgrims’ way. We can do that anywhere.

I’ve discovered in my work with Renewalworks that perhaps a quarter of the congregations I’ve worked with demonstrate a spirit of complacency, a spirit that says, “We’re fine where we are, thank you very much.” There’s little interest in pilgrimage. As I reported this particular profile to one congregation, the pastor called me in response. He thanked me for the insight and tongue-in-cheek said that the church had changed its tagline in response. The new tagline for the church? “We’re spiritually shallow and fine with that.” I doubt that ever appeared on their masthead, but it says something true about our congregations. It may say something true about where each of our hearts are set.

So what would it mean to set our hearts on the pilgrims’ way? It means that there is a place to which we are called that may be different from where we are right now. It means that we are open to God’s gracious and surprising activity in our lives. A best practice principle for congregations is to get people moving, to help them see that there is more, that God has more in store for them. How might you get moving this week, my pilgrim friends?

As you ponder that, a reminder that God is with us in the journey, that the journey is in and of itself a gift, a grace. So I close with wisdom from Anne Lamott: I do not understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.

–Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for Fall 2024 cohort)  Sign up now!

Fear and Love

When I worked in the creative department of an ad agency, one of the principals of the agency instructed us that there were only two motivators in advertising: love or fear. From a secular setting came a message with theological implications.

Fast forward to a few years later when I was leading a bible study, prattling on about love and its opposite hate. One member of our group interrupted. No, actually offered a course correction. She said: “You know, Jay, the opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is fear.” I’ve thought about that insight often, recognizing that in the history of religion, fear has been a great motivator. It’s not just true in religion. Our politics in this election year are driven in many ways by fear.

I’m told that in scripture, the phrase “fear not” appears 365 times. So what does it mean when we read in yesterday’s psalm (see above) that the fear of the Lord is a good thing, the beginning of wisdom. A mentor once told me that in the journey of faith, we have to decide what we believe and what we refuse to believe. I’ll refuse to believe that this psalm which references the fear of the Lord indicates a God who delights in our punishment. Do what God says, or else.

Given that, what might the fear of the Lord mean? I suspect in this context it has to do with the recognition that our lives unfold in the presence of a power greater than ourselves, leading us to reclaim the true sense of the word “awesome.” I forget that insight often. We forget that insight at our spiritual peril. We face the temptation to imagine we are the star of the story, with the implication that God is lucky to have us on the team. We too readily give into the temptation to worship things not worthy of our devotion, giving our hearts to that which will not satisfy our hearts. It’s a story as old as the Bible and as contemporary as our current political scene.

It’s why worship is such an important element of our faith journey, as we gather to praise God from whom all blessings flow, to be reminded that God is the creator, the source of light and life. And our worship is not only what we do on Sunday morning. As the Prayer Book notes, we worship not only with our lips but with our lives. As we commit to a life of service, we do so in response to God’s goodness, a sacrifice of thanksgiving. We do so in the spirit of the fear of the Lord.

This interpretation of the fear of the Lord means that love need not be the opposite of fear. In fact, the fear of the Lord understood in the true meaning of awesome reminds us of this important truth: Nothing can separate us from the love of God. That kind of amazing grace can be awe-inspiring, leading us to respond with love of God and love of neighbor.

The psalm tells us that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. It’s the starting point. Wisdom is more than simply knowledge. Knowledge you can get from Google. We are set on a journey marked by wisdom. What can we do this week to take steps in that wisdom journey? Where do we begin? It begins with spending time thinking about the fear of the Lord, recognizing that it has everything to do with love.

–Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for Fall 2024 cohort)  Sign up now!

Taste and see/Come and see

This past week, guided by the daily lectionary of the Episcopal Church, I’ve started reading the Gospel of John. In the first chapter, we read John’s version of the calling of disciples. We meet John the Baptist, who apparently has his own disciples. Jesus shows up, and John the Baptist directs his own disciples to Jesus. That was John the Baptist’s way. He pointed to Jesus. Two of John’s disciples begin to follow Jesus. Jesus notices they are following. They get into a conversation. They ask where Jesus is staying. Jesus says: “Come and see.”

Soon after that, another disciple (Philip) was telling his friends about Jesus. They wonder if Jesus could be the real deal. Friends were skeptical. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”, they ask. Rather than make an argument about why Jesus might be the Messiah, Philip simply says to them: “Come and see.”

The psalm you may have heard yesterday in church (printed above) invites readers to taste and see that the Lord is good. That’s an earlier version of what John’s gospel repeats: “Come and see.” That simple invitation has a lot to teach us.

God, in Christ, says to each one of us: “Come and see.” It’s an invitation to be in relationship with the Holy One. It’s not just about knowing about God. It’s about knowing God. A friend, a priest sees an analogy to cooking, of all places. She says you can read a recipe. You can have an opinion about ingredients. You can imagine what cooking techniques you would use, or what the dish might taste like. In other words, you can know about the meal. But none of that is the same as eating the meal.

Knowing about God may include biblical familiarity, theological study, liturgical correctness, ethical exercises, regular church attendance. But that’s not the same as knowing God. Often religious people focus on knowing about God because knowing God can be risky and mysterious. And here’s the scary part: It can call for change. I wonder if those disciples who followed Jesus later on wondered if life wouldn’t have been a lot easier if they hadn’t asked their question.

The invitation to come and see is not only extended to us by God. It is an invitation we’re meant to extend to others, as Philip did early on in John’s gospel. There’s freedom in that. We don’t need to argue about religion or theology. We don’t need to convince someone else that we’re right (and they’re wrong). God knows we don’t need to dispel skepticism and compel other people to believe as we do. That’s generally not all that productive. We simply have to encourage others to try out the life of faith. “Come and see.”

So how do we hear Jesus say to us “Come and see?” How are you hearing that voice this Monday morning? What does it take to respond? There’s risk involved, maybe like Peter stepping out of the boat to walk on water to meet Jesus. It may call for courage. It’s about being open to a new thing God may want to do in our lives. It’s about being all in.

And how might we invite someone else to “come and see.” I know there is reticence about sharing spiritual experience, especially among Episcopalians. These days, it seems we’re surrounded by people who do it in an annoying, intrusive way. Dave Barry put it this way: Why is it that people who want to share their faith with you never want to hear about yours?

But if we have answered the invitation that came to us, if we have responded to God’s invitation, if we have had what our youth group called a God-sighting, if we have found God’s invitation to be good news in our lives, no one can argue that away. It is a kindness to want other folks to have that holy experience. It is a kindness to share that experience with others.

What does the invitation to come and see, to taste and see sound like to you this morning? How will you RSVP?

–Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for Fall 2024 cohort)  Sign up now!

A clean heart

Here’s a piece of wisdom passed on from a predecessor, Alan Gates, now bishop of Massachusetts. He said: I’ve never met a motive that wasn’t mixed. His wit offers wisdom about the human condition, truth as old as the Bible.

It’s truth reflected in Psalm 51, which you may have heard yesterday in church (see above). Attributed to David, the psalmist reveals his own mixed motives, the forces pulling him in different directions. The psalmist is aware of unsavory parts of his interior life, aware of dastardly things he has done. At the same time, there is a desire to be changed.

Centuries later, St. Paul wrote a letter to the church in Rome and described his own inner struggles. Get a load of what he says in the 7^th chapter (verse 15-21): I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I who do it but sin that dwells within me… For the desire to do the good lies close at hand, but not the ability. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it but sin that dwells within me. So I find it to be a law that, when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand.

Ever felt like that?

Soren Kierkegaard said that purity of heart is to will one thing. Sounds good, Soren, but how do we get there? Maybe there’s a key in one of the verses from Psalm 51. The author prays that God will create in him a clean heart and renew a right spirit within him. That kind of purity of heart, a clean heart, is something God creates. While I feel powerless over resentments and judgments that take up residence in my soul, the good news is that God can make things new. The good news is that such renewal is not all up to me.

We may think of God the creator as one whose work is finished, God setting things in motion like a clock maker, then moving on to other endeavors. The prayer of Psalm 51 affirms that the creative work of God is ongoing, as in the bumper sticker: PBPGINFWMY (Please be patient. God is not finished with me yet.) The persistent biblical image of God as potter and human beings as clay gets at this image of ongoing creative work.

The potter metaphor can be helpful, but having said that, I feel a need to point out that we are more than lumps of clay. As God’s beloved children, as bearers of the divine image, we have a part to play in this new creation. It has to do with being open to God’s creative work.

That probably begins with a recognition, a confession that we need a clean heart, that we are pulled in many directions. It begins with asking for help. Truth be told, we all have numerous vocations: parents, children, siblings, workers, bosses, employees, citizens, artists, athletes. Those various vocations tugging at us in ways that can create inner conflict. In that inner landscape, many of the meditations of our heart are far from acceptable in the eyes of the Holy One. Like St. Paul, I suspect we all contend with that kind of conflict.

Then moving beyond confession, we can open ourselves to God’s creative power. Last week, in reading meditations by Howard Thurman, I came across his vision for a way to have a new heart. He said we are to seek each day, and several times a day, a lull in the rhythm of daily doing. He added: At first the quiet times may be quite barren…one needs to get used to the stillness. This time may be used for taking stock, for examining one’s life direction, one’s plans, one’s relations. It is like cleaning out the closets or the desk drawers and getting things in order. When the awareness of God comes in – how he entered, one does not know, one is certain that He had been there all the time. Thurman concludes this meditation by saying: Suppose you begin now, this day with the use of the quiet time in some fashion as suggested.

Not bad advice for a Monday morning with a focus on a new heart. Thank you, Howard Thurman, for helping us begin.

So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; look, new things have come into being! II Corinthians 5.17

–Jay Sidebotham

Interested in RenewalWorks for your parish? Learn more about how RenewalWorks works!

RenewalWorks: Helping churches focus on spiritual growth

RenewalWorks is about re-orienting your parish around spiritual growth. And by spiritual growth – we mean growing in love of God and neighbor.

Churches can launch as part of a fall or spring cohort or go on their own schedule. (Now accepting signups for Fall 2024 cohort)  Sign up now!