Day 23: Expect the Unexpected

"When the two days were over, he went from that place to Galilee (for Jesus himself had testified that a prophet has no honour in the prophet's own country). When he came to Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him, since they had seen all that he had done in Jerusalem at the festival; for they too had gone to the festival. Then he came again to Cana in Galilee where he had changed the water into wine. Now there was a royal official whose son lay ill in Capernaum. When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and begged him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. Then Jesus said to him, 'Unless you* see signs and wonders you will not believe.' The official said to him, 'Sir,come down before my little boy dies.' Jesus said to him, 'Go; your son will live.' The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and started on his way. As he was going down, his slaves met him and told him that his child was alive. So he asked them the hour when he began to recover, and they said to him, 'Yesterday at one in the afternoon the fever left him.' The father realized that this was the hour when Jesus had said to him, 'Your son will live.' So he himself believed, along with his whole household. Now this was the second sign that Jesus did after coming from Judea to Galilee." 
-John 4:43-54

Today is the 23rd day of Lent, but it is also a day that is very close to my heart: Today is the Opening Day of the Baseball's regular season. I know, I know. I had to ask myself the same question. Am I really going to bring Baseball into a Lenten reflection? Absolutely.

For many fans, especially fans living in Boston and New York, Baseball is an exercise of faith in and of itself. The start of a season is a time of reaffirmation about the teams we love. A time when fans reacquaint, and rededicate themselves to a new starting lineup. A time to say hello to new faces on the field, and reminisce about the legends that might have left last autumn. Oh yea, don't forget about all those crazy rituals and superstitions.

Go into any major city in America, and you will find those who agree with me. Baseball is a religion for many, however this idea is especially true for the fans of one particular team: the Chicago Cubs.

A lot of stuff has happened since the Cubs last won the World Series in 1908. The Ottoman Empire was still in power. The Titanic was not yet built. The world was a different place. And yet, 106 years later people are still excited to fill the stands of Wrigley Field for Opening Day. And for what? Are they expecting a new result? Are they expecting victory? Why should this season be any different than the last century of seasons? Sure sounds like faith to me.

I think Jesus could be preaching to Cubs fans in today's reading from John. He seems to be preaching to those in dire circumstances. To the official whose son is on the verge of death. To those who are clinging to hope.

This is the second time that Jesus has performed miracles in the town of Cana, so I think it is safe to presume that this official who has come asking Jesus for help has heard of him before. The official wants to believe in this man named Jesus even though he may have not have any proof. He wants to hop on the bandwagon. So he begs for help, and is met with this: 'Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.'

C'MON, JESUS!

I can't help but feel for the official after hearing this response from Jesus. Why not go and see the dying son? Then Jesus tells him: 'Go; your son will live.'

What happens next defies logic. The man believes - and believes without proof: "The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and started on his way." Lo, and behold, when the man arrived his son was on his way to a full recovery, and not just because of the divine power of Christ, but also because the official had the strength to believe in the midst of darkness. Because he didn't need to see signs and wonders to prop up his faith.

Jesus teaches us in this story that it is not completely crazy to expect the unexpected. It is not crazy to believe in miracles without accompanying signs and wonders. This goes for faith as well as many other things in life. Yes, even Baseball. I guess that's the reason why Wrigley Field is always packed on Opening Day. Sure, there is no reason to believe this is the year that the Cubs win the series, but that doesn't stop us from believing it could be. After all, it wouldn't be the first time a curse was reversed in the sport.

Will Bryant is 25 years old and from the Diocese of Western North Carolina. 
He is currently serving with the Mission to Seafarers in Hong Kong. 

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Day 22: Routines

"He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt:‘Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.”But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.’" -Luke 18: 9-14

I can identify with the Pharisee in this parable. I have a bad habit of getting passive in what I’m doing and in my spiritual and personal life. In sticking to a routine, I forget why I do those routines in the first place. I am comfortable in routine, but I rarely benefit from it. I forget to question where I can continue to grow. I get complacent. I forget to come to God with an open heart, and instead I seek comfort in the ordinary.

Looking back on my life, the periods when I have been the most uncomfortable and the most challenged are the ones in which I have grown the most. The times when I felt I was the most lost and the most hopeless are the times in which I had to find the strength to keep going; these are the times that have shaped me into the person I am today. During these times, I struggled with feeling broken while at the same time knowing that they are moments of growth for me in the long run.

I’ll be honest and say Lent is probably my least favorite period of the church calendar. It’s austere, and it usually means that I have to give up something I love for a not-insignificant amount of time. It’s easy for me to want it to return to the “fun times” of the calendar. I dislike Lent for the same reasons I dislike the difficult periods of my life. Lent is hard. It’s outside of our normal church experiences, and that makes it the perfect time to examine why we have them. Like the difficult times that lead us to personal growth, Lent breaks us out of our complacency and challenges us to examine our practices and our faith by asking us to take that period to be reformed intentionally. It challenges us to acknowledge our own brokenness. It reminds us to be more like the tax collector who came to God with an open admission of his flaws and a genuine desire to repent on and improve them, and it reminds us that we should not be passive in this pursuit. In Him, we are reformed and given new life.

Seven months into my time in Hong Kong, I’ve gotten comfortable. My work is not easy or predictable, but I feel more capable of handling the challenges that come my way. As I approach the end of my mission service, I ask that God continues to shake me up and make me uncomfortable so that I may continue to grow. I ask Him to help me see my flaws and to help me improve them. May I always be seeking renewal through His grace.

Sara Lowery is 23 and from the Dioceses of Alabama and Georgia. 
She is currently serving at the Mission for Migrant Workers 
and attempting to try every coffee shop in Hong Kong.

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Day 21: More Questions

"One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’There is no commandment greater than these.” “Well said, teacher,” the man replied. “You are right in saying that God is one and there is no other but him. To love him with all your heart, with all your understanding and with all your strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself is more important than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” When Jesus saw that he had answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” And from then on no one dared ask him any more questions. " -Mark 12: 28-34

What do you mean no one dared to ask Jesus any more questions? Wouldn’t you want to ask more questions about how exactly to do the Great Commandment? So I am to love God—what exactly does that entail? Is it praying, fasting, giving thanks, and going to church every Sunday? Is it connected to loving others because of the piece of God that lives in them?

I’ve spent much of my life around people who are very similar to me—similar religion, skin tone, socioeconomic status, nationality, physical and mental ability, similar criminal record (or lack thereof)—people who are easier for me to love, but how do I love those who are different than myself?

How do I love someone who kills, cheats on their spouse, or steals? Do I act impartially to them when I am around them? Do I extend them the same trust as I would to my best friend? What does forgiveness look like?

How do I love someone who experiences the mental and physical pain of not having enough to eat? Do I give them food? Money? A hug? Some of my time? Is love balancing my relative financial wealth with their relative financial poverty? What does solidarity look like?

How do I love someone who manipulates a charity for their own personal benefit? Do I excuse their offenses? Do I have to acknowledge them every day? Do I call them out? What does honesty look like?
How do I love people who make assumptions about me and treat me differently because of my race (or any other characteristic)? Do I explain/defend myself to them? Do I point out their prejudice? What does respect look like?

I’m to treat others as I would like to be treated, right? If I’ve not known the fear of one who doesn’t know where the next meal will come from, how do I love the hungry? If I have not known the bitter wind and cold for a night, how do I love the homeless? If I have not known immense wealth, how am I to love the wealthy? If I have not known the isolation of 20 years to life in prison, how am I to love the imprisoned? If I have not known what it is like to have power, how am I to love the powerful?

When I look to others claiming to express love, how do I discern what is actually love? Some believe homosexuality is a sin, and they call out gay people’s sin because they don’t want them to go to hell—is that love? I hear news about a priest who is put in jail because he believes same-sex couples should have the right to marry—is that love?

What does love look like over time? What is love in a fleeting moment with a homeless woman on the street corner? What is love with my significant other with which I’ll spend my lifetime?

I often feel like love is a verb, but sometimes I’m left not knowing what to do. Can I just spend time with others? Can I just listen to their story? Can I just be vulnerable with them? Can I just recognize and appreciate what we have in common? Is just being there enough, or is their more I can do?

What other questions do you wish the scribe had asked Jesus about the Great Commandment? Where might you find answers?

Alan Yarborough is serving in Cange, Haiti, representing the Diocese of Western North Carolina 
and the Diocese of Upper South Carolina. He's working in economic development
 for Cange and the surrounding area in the Central Plateau.

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Day 20: Thin Skin

"But this command I gave them, ‘Obey my voice, and I will be your God, and you shall be my people; and walk only in the way that I command you, so that it may be well with you.’ Yet they did not obey or incline their ear, but, in the stubbornness of their evil will, they walked in their own counsels, and looked backwards rather than forwards. From the day that your ancestors came out of the land of Egypt until this day, I have persistently sent all my servants the prophets to them, day after day; yet they did not listen to me, or pay attention, but they stiffened their necks. They did worse than their ancestors did. So you shall speak all these words to them, but they will not listen to you. You shall call to them, but they will not answer you. You shall say to them: This is the nation that did not obey the voice of the Lord their God, and did not accept discipline; truth has perished; it is cut off from their lips." -Jeremiah 7: 23-28

Whenever I read verses, my first instinct is to use these words as a meter to reflect on my own behavior. And it usually isn't positive or encouraging. A dear friend and I Skyped yesterday, and we talked about how we feel we're losing our magic receptors (or in this case, the ability to "incline their ear") - that sacred perspective where there's nowhere to be, nothing to do... there is just a freedom and a graceful ease with which to relish the world around you. I call it "thin skin" - where you can listen with your whole body and the world floods in, swallowing you and your egotistical identity in the process.

But then work happens, or TV ads that reminds you you're too fat, or a friend's Facebook profile that says you really should get your act together on that grad school thing, or Buzzfeed's Top 10 Habits of Successful People and you only have 3 of them... it's exhausting, and there's no end. And so, as I read this verse, I want to protest but I'm doing the best I can! It's not my fault no one ever taught me HOW to listen!

Now, it always bothered me that the Bible seems to speak in big generalities: they did not listen to me... They did worse than their ancestors. How can I be extraordinary or good if you keep bunching me in with the rest of humanity? If we look around us, some people are clearly evil, some are saints, and some are the in-betweeners. But, like my first reading, this is still all about me. It's all about what I think of others, it's my own classification system of what's right and wrong. Here in El Salvador, I see human rights workers, I see corrupt politicians, friends who's boyfriends beat them in private, people who complain too much, people who are far too generous, people who I think are lazy until I discover what they do when I'm not watching, women who cook the best meal in the world and charge $2.50 a plate... at some point my categories are inadequate.

One of my favorite authors, Saul Alinsky (the Yoda of community organizing back in the 60s and 70s) has a great quote: "It is equally difficult for you to surrender that little image of God created in our own likeness, which lurks in all of us and tells us that we secretly believe that we know what’s best for the people." So long as we hold the ultimate authority between our ears, it's a lose-lose as often we are both our biggest advocate and our biggest critic. I will never meet my own standards, but I also will never stop pushing myself to try. But over these past few months, as my standards get higher and higher, I find I've lost that "thin skin." When there is always something more to do, I cannot listen. If someone truly was trying to reach me, "day after day," I doubt I would hear them.
And so I went back a few verses to figure just what command it was that humanity failed to obey:

Hear the word of the Lord, all you people of Judah, you that enter these gates to worship the Lord. Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Amend your ways and your doings, and let me dwell with you in this place. Do not trust in these deceptive words: ‘This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord.’  (Jeremiah 7.2-7.4)

God only seeks to dwell with us. We do not surrender our egos to supplant it with another authority whom we blindly follow. We just have to give up the right to be right. It is the scariest thing in the world, to admit you don't know, but if we are to preserve our ability to speak truth, first we have to admit that we don't know it. We can't condemn others, and perhaps most importantly, we can't condemn ourselves.

Hannah Perls is 24 from the Diocese of Olympia, WA. She is serving with 
human rights NGO, Foundation Cristosal, in El Salvador. Other common names 
now include Hanoch, Hannah Montana, and Broccoli Top (Broc top for short).

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Day 19: We Are Nothing Without Love

"Now, Israel, hear the decrees and laws I am about to teach you. Follow them so that you may live and may go in and take possession of the land the Lord, the God of your ancestors, is giving you.  Do not add to what I command you and do not subtract from it, but keep the commands of the Lord your God that I give you."
-Deuteronomy 4:1-2




I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know a lot about the Bible. I can’t quote verses or tell you what book comes before or after another book, but I do know that a lot of times verses can have different meanings depending on how you look at them. The first time I read this passage from Deuteronomy, I was a little annoyed, because I believe that spirituality and belief can be very fluid. “Where’s the flexibility?” I wondered. “You must neither add anything to what I command you nor take away anything from it, but keep the commandments of the Lord your God with which I am charging you” Deuteronomy 4:2. It’s very strict. But after reading the words a few times, I had an “aha” moment.

We learn, most of us, from a very young age about the Ten Commandments. And what do the Ten Commandments say really? Don’t hurt each other, love God and each other, and treat each other with respect. This is essentially what the Ten Commandments boil down to, these are the only rules we need to follow in our lives, and this is what I believe the passage is talking about. I believe that this passage is telling us that we have to treat everyone well and it doesn’t matter if their belief system is different from ours.

The Christian tradition, historically and now, is one of persecution. There has always been someone who is wrong, who is not welcome, who is different and we shut them out because of these differences. How do we follow the commandments God gave us, and only those commandments, if we continue to persecute people who believe in something different from what we believe? What are we teaching our children and our children’s children and those who come after with these actions. Are we really protecting each other, loving each other, respecting each other?

So what I believe this passage is saying, is that regardless of someone’s belief systems, race, sexuality, coffee preference, we don’t hurt each other. We love each other. We treat each other with respect. By doing this, we follow God’s commandments and only God’s commandments. We don’t add, we don’t take away. By doing this, we fill the world with love. We teach love to those who come after us. Because we are nothing without love.

Claire Harkey is 26 years old and from the Diocese of Mississippi. 
She currently spends her days hanging out with the high school students of 
La Escuela Episcopal El Buen Pastor in San Pedro Sula, Honduras.

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Day 18: Forgiveness

"Then Peter came and said to him, ‘Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times. " 
-Matthew 18:21-22




Jesus is pretty direct in today's Gospel: I have to forgive the jerks, because I have been a jerk, I am a jerk, and I will be a jerk. I have to forgive the people who arrive an hour late for dinner. I have to forgive the people that won’t make the effort to communicate with me. I have to forgive the lady at the market who will not give me the right price because I am American. I have to forgive them. For their sake, right? For Jesus, right?

I teach once a week at a high school where I am the only female teacher, in addition to being the only white teacher. My first class of the day with 18 seventeen-year-old boys can be a little… rambunctious. During my first few weeks at the school, by the time I walked into my second class, I was already mad at them before they even had the chance to make their first out-of-turn remark. I wasn’t being an effective teacher and my frustration was not helping anyone. I was not enjoying my time with these students and started to dread Tuesday mornings.  Forgiveness here, was actually for me.

When I manage to forgive, and truly forgive, I am letting it go. I am letting go of the anger, frustration, of the need to scream and whine and yell and opening myself up to the more productive moods of problem solving and reconciliation. God can deal with the bad emotions. As the Buddha put it, “Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” In taking these negative emotions from us, God opens us up to feel so much more, to experience so much more, and to love so much more. Forgiveness isn’t just for everyone else: it is for you.

Julie Burd is 23 and from the Diocese of Pennsylvania. When not running away 
from charging goats, she teaches English at the only BSN 
nursing program in Haiti and works at a local hospital. 

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Day 17: To Be of Service

"Naaman’s servants went to him and said, “My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, ‘Wash and be cleansed’!” So he went down and dipped himself in the Jordan seven times, as the man of God had told him, and his flesh was restored and became clean like that of a young boy. Then Naaman and all his attendants went back to the man of God. He stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel. So please accept a gift from your servant.”
-2 Kings 5:13-15



As a YASC missionary in her second year, I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me exactly what is is that I do. Additionally, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve kind of gotten the feeling that people expect a more exciting or spectacular answer. My first year was essentially administrative and communication support, with travels to various dioceses in Brazil to get to know the wider work of the Episcopal Anglican Church here.  My second year has exciting opportunities in human rights work and community outreach…and yet, I’ve come to realize that I’m not really here to change much anything at all. After a year, it’s been clear that I’ve been changed to a fair degree. But when I’m honest with myself, I’m not here to change Brazil, or the world, however much I’m passionate about that — the real game-changer is God, and the beautiful and mysterious ways in which the Spirit works in, with and through us and others.

I was particularly struck by the story of Namaan in today’s readings. Here we have a man with a very serious situation—leprosy. As would most people in his situation, he sought to be healed from his affliction. No doubt he was in much discomfort, and was willing to do nearly anything to be relieved from it. Furthermore, he also had the distinction of being in possession of enough resources to be able to do nearly anything for it…and yet he is noticeably displeased with the simplicity of Elisha’s response. There was no clap of thunder, or mystical appearance of God in the midst—Elisha didn’t even make a personal appearance; he sent a messenger. Namaan was not exactly thrilled with the response.

 But his servants approached and said to him, ‘Father,  if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, “Wash, and be clean”?

Namaan obeys, and is healed. His life is changed.

In mission work, we talk a lot about the concept of ‘ministry of presence.’ As the name might suggest, it is mission enough to be — to be in community, to be amongst people, to participate in their lives, to walk with them. This isn’t necessarily an easy thing to do, as we so often feel like we have to do more, be more, make something, and maybe it has to be big and noticeable and make me feel like I actually did something worthwhile. In that sense, Namaan’s story is a good one for me to keep in mind: had God asked me to do something difficult, I would not have hesitated…what more then that he asked me to do something so simple? To be here in Brazil, in community, amongst people. Simplicity doesn’t negate its importance, but it’s made me realize that so very often, I try to overcomplicate things—and it’s not about that.

As author Victor Hugo wrote, “to love another person is to see the face of God.” And what is it that we remind ourselves before Communion? That we are to love the Lord our God, and to love our neighbors. That everything else we believe, why we do what we do, rests upon these two things. It is so beautifully simple, and yet we know in practice, it can all be so beautifully complex, and difficult to do. When we try to do it, life happens. God happens…and everything changes.

Nina Boe is working in the Anglican Diocese of Rio de Janeiro, part time 
in support of the Office of the Bishop and part time with the Church 
of the Most Holy Trinity's human rights ministry and community outreach.

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Day 16: Love and Compassion

"Shepherd your people with your staff, the flock that belongs to you, which lives alone in a forest   in the midst of a garden land; let them feed in Bashan and Gilead as in the days of old.  As in the days when you came out of the land of Egypt, show us marvellous things. Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity and passing over the transgression of the remnant of your possession? He does not retain his anger for ever, because he delights in showing clemency. He will again have compassion upon us; he will tread our iniquities under foot. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea. You will show faithfulness to Jacob and unswerving loyalty to Abraham, as you have sworn to our ancestors from the days of old." -Michah 7:14-15, 18-20

As I say in most of my blogs, I am not much of a writer. I really don’t know how to express myself, unless it’s through dance and singing, yet alone do a reflection for Lent. What I have learned throughout my years was to just write what you feel. In today’s reading, it talks about compassion and how to help others. In my opinion, the book of Micah first talks about how to help others when in need, and to also to see compassion. In verse 14, Micah talks about how one needs to “Shepherd your people with your staff, the flock that belongs to you.”

        From the first time I started working with kids, I felt that it was a calling from God. When I first started working at a non-profit, I struggled with coming to terms that kids were going to be part of my future. After about three years and counting, I was able to see that helping kids and teaching them was a bigger aspect of my life than I had planned. I know, many people hear the same clichés like, “you don’t want to be a teacher”, or “the education system is something you don’t want to deal with”, but, for me it is not being a teacher. It’s about showing the future that we can leave a legacy of change and hope for them.  In Micah, we are here to help the community and show that we are all one. Every time I go to work, I felt like I was shepherding the people or the students.

        This year I left my community to also see what Micah said in verse 15: “As in the days when you came out of the land of Egypt, show us marvelous things.” I went to Panama, for what was going to be a discernment process of over a year.  As I like to note, I have never left the Rio Grande Valley, yet alone the country. It was hard at first, but since, I found learned marvelous things. In times where we are blinded from the words of the Lord, we must have courage to know how to listen to the Lord. Through the readings, I believe they show a point of why I love working with kids. My love for seeing their smile or being the person they can talk to when they need it is just marvelous. God works in ways you can see and in ways you can’t. I love to say that I can see both ways, but in reality, you can never get what you want.

  The second part of Micah shows how god is compassionate. In my most recent years, my faith has grown drastically. It has been a learning concept, but within time I will continue to grow to my full potential. God shows us compassion, yet I have struggled to do the same.

Compassion from God is shown throughout the bible. In Psalm 103 it states: “The Lord is full of compassion and mercy.” Most people that know me know I don’t have compassion or mercy. But with the guidance of the lord, I have grown to have it.

This part is difficult to me because this is about the first time I will say this. My brother, you know what you have done to me and throughout the years, I have never shown you mercy or compassion because in my eyes I believed you did not deserve it. However, this process that I have taken to walk in the eyes of God, has shown me that I forgive you and always had. I forgive you with all my heart and all my soul. I forgive you and know that you are not alone, you have me and the family. I love you. Don’t forget that.

Throughout the seven months I have been in Panama, I have seen many things. Most of all I have seen the people show compassion wherever you go. God is truly in the midst of us, open your eyes and let the world around you show that the lord will bring us to a better tomorrow. I would like to end with a prayer I got when I attended the Global Leadership Summit a few years ago. I say this prayer every day and know that helping others and showing compassion is something that is spoken in this prayer.

My morning prayer
God, this is a new day. I freshly commit myself to the role you have invited me to play, as you are building your church in this world I am awestruck again today that you include me in this grand life-giving, world-transforming endeavor. So today I joyfully offer you:

My love

My heart

My talents

My energy

My creativity

My faithfulness

My resources

And my gratitude

I commit all of myself to the role you have assigned me in the building of your church so that it may thrive in this world. And I will “bring it” today. I will bring my best. You deserve. Your church deserves it. It is the Hope of the World.

Joseph Morin is from Texas and serving in Panama with Iglesia Episcopal San Mateo. 

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Day 15: Praise God

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”-Philippians 4: 4-7




“Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise him, all creatures here below;
Praise him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The Doxology, as we know it, was written 1674 by Thomas Ken, Bishop of Bath and Wells. Beyond his excellence in oratory and hymnody, Ken was a principled man.

Before Ken became a Bishop he was the Royal Chaplain to King Charles, II of England. Charles raised Ken to the Bishopric, as he was especially impressed with Ken’s stern refusal to house the king’s mistress in the Chaplain’s quarters. Again, Ken’s principled character was on display when he refused to sign King James, II’s Declaration of Indulgence—to be signed by all clergy. James was Roman Catholic, and found issue with the Church of England as the governmental and cultural ruling body; therefore, his declaration was pitched as a freedom of religion act, if you will. Ken and other Anglican’s saw this move by James as a way of promoting Roman Catholics to positions of power. James move came only a century after King Henry VIII lobbied parliament to declare him Supreme Head of the Church of England, inaugurating an economic, liturgical, and social break from the Roman Catholic Church. Ken’s refusal to sign James’ declaration landed him in the Tower of London. He was soon released, and James was overthrown.

So, today, we celebrate a principled Anglican. But, most of all, Ken was a prayerful Anglican. Ken was also a poet, and a prolific writer of prayers, which, essentially, is how we get the Doxology—a prayer of praise and thanksgiving!

Paul the Apostle, who penned our scripture reading, and Thomas Ken share something in common: as Ken was thrown into the Tower of London for refusing to comply with King James, II, Paul was writing to the church in Philippi sitting in a jail cell awaiting execution by the hands of the Roman Empire. And as Paul writes from his jail cell to the church in Philippi he wants to say to them that in all things, in all situations, through the darkest of hours, “rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice.”

The season of Lent can be a trying time. Many of us are in our second week of fasting, praying, and alms giving. And my guess is—I could be wrong—that many of us have come up short of the Lenten goals we have set before ourselves. And this is okay. As St. John of the Cross reminds us, “The Lord measures out perfection neither by the multitude nor the magnitude of our deeds, but by the manner in which we perform them.” And that second principle of our Lenten discipline is essential to carrying out our lofty Lenten goals. It is essential that we push forward through this penitential season, prayerfully.

It will be the quieting our minds that centers our turbulent souls. As we struggle to turn from desire, greed, and the superficiality of material neediness, Paul points us to God—he points to communion with God through prayer and supplication. Our turn from a need of ‘things’ to a moment with God reveals to us that God has given us all we need through our being, our very breathing—God has given us the ultimate gift, which is life. And somehow an inward recognition of and thankfulness for the very gift of breath provides an incomprehensible peace. It is a peace that positions us to remain focused on God and unwavering in our convictions to be not tempted by the ways of the world.

Paul was unmoved by the Roman Empire just as Thomas Ken was unmoved by the British Monarchy. They knew, wholeheartedly, that their mission was a God-centered mission. And God-centered mission is one upon which we must embark gently, knowing that the Lord is near, and worrying about nothing.

May we prayerfully and gently push through this Lenten season, knowing that we don’t have to rely on our own or anyone else’s devices, because the Lord is near. And for that we must give God thanksgiving, and continually ask for that peace that passes all understanding!

AMEN

Paul Daniels is spending a year working with the Anglican Cathedral of Grahmstown, South Africa. 

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Day 14: Judgement and Grace

"The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side.* He called out, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.” But Abraham said, “Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.” He said, “Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.” 
-Luke 16: 22-28

When I first looked up the readings appointed for today, I gulped and chided myself for signing up to write reflections on these passages without actually having read them first.  Today's readings, particularly the Gospel passage, are rather, um, heavy.  'In Hades, where he was being tormented', 'Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals', 'The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away'.  What am I supposed to say about all this?  On a blog?  That might be read by people who don't know me?  What did I just get myself into?

The Word of God is full of judgement.  Lots of us like to picture the warm and fuzzy Sunday school Jesus, but He also had another side.  Think of Him overturning the altar tables (I wonder whether Teresa Guidice from Real Houswives of New Jersey knew that she was copying Christ?  Just a little something to think about...) or shouting 'You snakes, you brood of vipers!  How can you escape being sentenced to Hell?' (Matthew 24:33).  Does anyone else find these images a little uncomfortable, a little hard to reconcile?  I think it's very tempting to thank God that we're not the scribes and Pharisees that Jesus was talking to here.

But wait a second.  Aren't we?  Today's Gospel passage tells us that 'it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away than for one letter of the law to be dropped'.  Who can live up to the law, all of it, all the time?  No one!  We're all law breakers, and those of us that have the benefit of knowing the Truth and hearing the teachings of the Church even more so, because more is expected of us.  So if no letter of the law passes away, then we're all condemned to the flames, and deservedly so.  Let's all just take a minute (or the forty days of Lent) to think about that.

The beauty of these (admittedly rather unsettling) passages is that they allow us a glimpse into how amazing, grand, and wildly disproportionate the grace of God really is.  This terrible fate of eternal separation and despair is what Christ saved us from, and doesn't that make God all the more wonderful?

The concept of grace has been on my mind recently.  My favorite book, which I read for the first time while on my mission here in South Africa, is Gilead by Marilynne Robinson.  This novel is a masterpiece, and I really believe that every Christian should read it.  Grace is a central theme to Gilead, and Robinson writes some beautiful passages about it.  'If the Lord chooses to make nothing of our transgressions, then they are nothing.  Or whatever reality they have is trivial and conditional beside the exquisite primary fact of existence.  Of course the Lord would wipe them away, just as I wipe dirt from your face, or tears.  After all, why should the Lord bother much over these smirches that are no part of His Creation?'

To me, today's readings remind us what an extravagant God we serve.  God's grace is even more impressive when you consider what we had condemned ourselves to, through our own fault.  The fact that the Devine chooses to bestow His embracing, all-encompassing love and grace upon us wildly unworthy humans just makes Him all the more grand.  I think Robinson sums it up well when she writes, 'There is an absolute disjunction between our Father's love and our deserving.'  She also says, 'There is no justice in love, no proportion in it, and there need not be, because in any specific instance it is only a glimpse or a parable of an embracing, incomprehensible reality.'

So the reality of God's grace is much bigger than we mere humans can even imagine.  In light of that, all our faults don't even register against the fathomless mercy and love of God.  That's the truth about the God we serve.  Isn't He awesome?

Keri is 27 years old and from the Diocese of Virginia.  She is a registered nurse 
in the United States  and is working as the coordinator for inpatient 
services at Hawston Hospice in Hawston, South Africa.

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Day 13: Never Abandoned

"Have mercy upon me, O Lord, for I am in trouble : my eye wastes away for grief, my throat also and my inward parts. For my life wears out in sorrow, and my years with sighing : my strength fails me in my affliction, and my bones are consumed. I am become the scorn of all my enemies: and my neighbours wag their heads in derision. I am a thing of horror to my friends : and those that see me in the street shrink from me. I am forgotten like a dead man out of mind : I have become like a broken vessel. For I hear the whispering of many: and fear is on every side;While they plot together against me : and scheme to take away my life. But in you, Lord, have I put my trust : I have said ‘You are my God.’"  -Psalm 31 9-16


We have all struggled in our lives. We have all known immeasurable grief. We have all felt like the outcast, hated or ignored. It is at times like these when reaching out to God seems like the obvious thing to do… but it’s at times like these when it seems like God is untouchable. We retreat further and further into our pain, grief, anger, hate and use it as fuel and insulation to keep going and to protect ourselves. Why is it so hard to remember that God still loves us, God holds us, God has not abandoned us when things are at their worst?

Will Bryant said in his Lenten reflection a few days ago, that it’s incredibly difficult to be a Christian. He hit the nail on the head with that statement, and I think that the Psalm for today puts that truth into a very stark light. As Christians, we believe a enormous range of things: from God created the world as it was and is and will be and we are destined to follow the path created for us… to God is in control but we have no idea how or why or to what extent… to God made it all and now is leaning back to enjoy the show and see what we do with what we have. But whether we are strongly set and determined in our beliefs or we have a million and half questions, when things go wrong, our grip on God can get knocked a little loose. For some of us, that means we double up on our grip, hold on for dear life even though there’s a hurricane swirling around us, and the people who can do that have the inhuman strength of Mr. Incredible. For others of us, that grip can be very difficult to regain; because, regardless of our belief in God, when bad things happen, it can be easy to blame God.

The most emotionally strong Mr. Incredible ever must have written the section of Psalm 31 that we have today. The author is grieving, so much that he is wasting away. He is hated by people who were once his friends and then ignored as if he had died generations ago; which, to be fair, may be preferable to the next line in which he says that people are plotting to kill him. But instead of blaming God or asking God “hey, where are you?”, in the end, he says “In you Lord, have I put my trust; I have said ‘you are my God.’” How does he do that, I ask you?

What I’m left with after reading this psalm is that, regardless of how great the struggle is, and regardless of how we may be feeling about God, whether we have the strength like that of our psalm writer, or if our struggles push us away from God… God loves us anyway. Even if we can’t bring ourselves to want to go to church, or to pray, or even to think about whatever God may be to us, God is still there. God never leaves. God never abandons us.

Claire Harkey is 26 years old and from the Diocese of Mississippi. 

She currently spends her days hanging out with the high school students of 

La Escuela Episcopal El Buen Pastor in San Pedro Sula, Honduras.

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Day 12: An Ode to Parents

"Hear, O heavens, and listen, O earth; for the Lord has spoken: I reared children and brought them up, but they have rebelled against me.  Come now, let us argue it out, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool. " 
-Isaiah 1:2, 18




While reading Isaiah 1:2-4, 16-20, I wasn’t connecting so much on a spiritual level at first so much as I was finally realizing what parents must face on a daily basis. I have to be honest and admit that I was a terrible kid growing up. I think that realization comes with age and maturity, being able to admit how much of a hellion you were. I was afforded every opportunity in life, a loving two parent household, an amazing education, food and conversation at every meal,  if I wanted something it was mine, but yet I rebelled in every way possible.

2 Hear, O heavens, and listen, O earth;

   for the Lord has spoken:

I reared children and brought them up,

   but they have rebelled against me. 

 Why must this be a natural progression into adulthood? Is there anything we actually achieve in doing the things that hurt our parents the most? Is there anything we achieve in distancing our selves from God with our sins? As one that distanced themselves from both God and their parents through adolescence, I believe it is a test for us. You have to be able to make your own mistakes and have no one to blame but yourself and then find yourself along the way before you can appreciate the guidance that was always there. With age comes wisdom and clarity and as the prodigal son returned, I too realized one day how far I had strayed from my parents and God and their guidance.

18 Come now, let us argue it out,

   says the Lord:

though your sins are like scarlet,

   they shall be like snow;

though they are red like crimson,

   they shall become like wool. 

How many times have I heard this? How many times have there been disagreements with your parents and God when in actuality it is only one sided with the hostility coming from your end? How many times have you yelled yourself hoarse only to be met with the response “Are you finished?” and realized your anger and hatred isn’t going to hurt anyone because their unconditional love sees beyond what you have done wrong? God is that perfect parent that sees beyond the detentions and bad grades and not loving thy neighbor as themselves. The power of forgiveness is one that cannot be undermined. The opportunity to return to something we thought we had lost forever is something truly amazing. The short time we are on Earth, God has entrusted us to these special people we call parents, to guide us closer to Him, and I want to thank Him for giving me some of the best!

Charlotte File is 25 years old and from the Diocese of Indianapolis serving the Diocese of 

Yokohama at the Kiyosato Educational Experiment Project in Japan. When she is not shoveling her 
way out of the snow still on the ground, she enjoys eating every new Japanese food she can find. 

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Day 11: Love Your Enemies

"But love your enemies, do good, and lend, despairing of no one. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. " 
-Luke 6:35




I’m not good at this.  I find it easy to be loving and compassionate to a lot of people, but I find it really hard not to give up on some who frustrate me the most.  Like many Christians, I sometimes wish there was an asterisk in the Biblical text, leading to a footnote explaining that of course Jesus didn’t actually mean those people, even if I define those people differently from some of the more loud-spoken Christian sects.  I want there to be some limits on whom I should have to look to for God’s presence.  I want to be given the allowance by God to just storm off in a huff and leave certain people to their own problems.  I want to be able to focus on just winning an argument with these people, to prove myself right over whatever issue we’re arguing about this decade.  Like most people, I sometimes want my religion to be easy, to have control over it.  I want to stick God in a box because a God who fits into the box I’ve defined is less scary and demanding.

No one said Christianity was going to be easy.  Well, okay, Jesus did once in Matthew 11, but not nearly so many times as he pointed out that it was not easy to follow him.  Love is difficult, it is a conscious choice every day to work for the best for the people around you.  Love means giving up the need to prove yourself right in every argument, to sometimes say that the point is to remain in the conversation even when you violently disagree.  In my lay institute class, this came up as a part of our discussion, that the strength of the Episcopal/Anglican communion is that we are in communion.  Even when it is tough, even when we argue and disagree on fundamental, earth-shattering issues, we keep talking to one another.  Okay, sometimes it’s more like yelling at each other at the top of our lungs, but at some point we have to stop yelling, if just to grab a breath, and it’s then, while we are still in communication, still present with one another, that we can remember that we are called to love, not to agree.

Love is scary.  Love means not being in control.  Love is being vulnerable to other people, and still working to be good to them.  Love is not giving up on other people as part of God’s creation.  Christian love isn’t safe, isn’t easy, and doesn’t promise happiness.  It just promises that we are acting like God wished.


Or to give the internet shorthand version:

Margaret Clinch is 28 years old and from the Diocese of Southern Ohio. 
She is serving as a teacher at Easter College in the 
Diocese of the North Central Philippines.

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