Thirsty?

The Gospel of John pericope about the Samaritan woman at the well is about thirst. A woman’s thirst for authentic relationship and love. She had been “through the wringer” of marriage, having had five husbands and now living with a boyfriend. We are not brought into a story of condemnation of her situation, but of her encounter with living water at the well, with Jesus. He offers her water that will quench her thirst, for eternity. He tells her about her life, without judgment, but with insight into her soul, and a piercing knowledge of her needs.


The metaphor of water speaks to a desert community in first century Palestine. It speaks to us also in the Southeast, who so recently were in drought conditions.


Lent is a time of entering into drought, coming face to face with our thirst for something more real, lasting, deeply satisfying. A taste of the water that does not require us to keep returning to the well to quench our desire.


Thirst is a natural, inborn response of our bodies to the lack of hydration. I have heard it said that by the time we actually feel thirsty, we may already be entering dehydration. We are encouraged to drink water throughout the day, to improve our health.


Are you drinking enough living water?

Our hiding place

Yesterday we read from Psalm 32:
You are my hiding place;
You preserve me from trouble;
You surround me with shouts of deliverance.

God is indeed our hiding place, where we go for Sabbath time of quiet, contemplation, and forgiveness. Lent is a time that is especially appropriate for finding the hiding place that God has prepared for you. Like the wilderness Jesus encountered, it may be a place where God supports you in the tests challenging you. It may be a place where regrets are offered up to the compassionate love of Christ. It may be a place where God alone attends your thoughts and offers the peace that passes understanding, to "preserve you from trouble".


Wherever your hiding place with God is, come to that place in Lent. Know the shouts of deliverance upholding you.

T.S. Eliot's "Ash Wednesday"

Excerpt from Ash Wednesday by Thomas Stearns Eliot

VI
Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.

Coming Into Lent, Coming into Our True Selves

A paraphrase from the Ash Wednesday prayer:
O God, you hate nothing that you have made.

We don't think about Lent as a time where we find the beauty of our souls, but that is what happens when we contemplate our created selves, enter into God's presence and find the soul that God has created within us. We each are unique persons, we each radiate a beauty that is our true self. The self that is not what others want us to be, what we think we should be, or what we strive so hard to become because we think we are sinful by nature and must be perfect.

This Lent, I challenge myself to become more the "me" that I was meant to be. A challenge that only God can help me meet.

Some thoughts as others leave the Episcopal church

As those in the Episcopal church in some dioceses learn that they can no longer be in communion with the rest of us, I have mixed feelings. My first reaction is, "what took you so long?", an uncharitable and unthinking knee-jerk reaction, however true to my feelings.

The second, more reasoned response is, how do you think the Holy Spirit works if not through science, reason, imagination, scripture, learning, study, and revelation through experience? What else can the Holy Spirit do? My understanding is that spiritual growth happens when our experience is met with God's holy intentions for us.

I believe that the church is long overdue for rethinking the abuse of people based on their sexual orientation. While psychology, human dignity, and pastoral care all tell us to love people who are downtrodden and "less than", and our baptismal covenant requires us to work for justice and the dignity of all persons, the church has had unseeing eyes, based on unhelpful and hurtful dogma about the infallibility of some words written by men some 2000 years ago, which no longer speak to our hearts or our Christian understandings. Those who hold that scripture cannot be wrong seem to me to be the extreme result of those initial reformers who were trying to deny the pope's authority by substituting sola scriptura.

So, yes, let those who cannot go forward into the Way being offered by the Holy Spirit go the way of biblical inerrancy, if indeed that is their dogma (I wonder). Let the rest of grow into the knowledge and love of God and the care for our brothers and sisters, so we may go in peace to love and serve the Lord, Alleluia.