A definition of Repentance found in the Episcopal Watchman, volume 2. Hartford, June 28, 1828.
"The word Repentance, in the original, signifies "a change or alteration of the mind, so as to influence one's subsequent conduct and behaviour for the better." It implies a conversion from sin to God; "not a single act or change, but a lasting, durable state of new life." "
Another definition:
1 : to turn from sin and dedicate oneself to the amendment of one's life
2 a : to feel regret or contrition b : to change one's mind
So, if one is Repentant, they take a very big turn in their life. It is not just 'I'm sorry'. It is action which, with God's help, can change one's life. I think that, perhaps, it can change the lives of all involved.
I sat explaining my recent experiences at church to a trusted friend. I, honestly, was afraid that she would judge me for going back to the same church. Instead, she seemed proud of me in explaining that I had repented when I left. It has taken me several weeks to start to understand this. I am beginning to realize that I might have created a 'lasting durable state of a new life'.
Repentance is harder than I ever could have imagined. I have spent a great deal of time and energy understanding my part in the issues at my church. I have also tried to express my regret and accountability. I worked very hard to try to show that I changed, and learned from my mistakes. Unfortunately, some people are not able to listen. Some people don't want to acknowledge this kind of growth in other people, because it threatens their perception of things. That is where my frustration reached the point of no return, and I left.
Fortunately, some people opened their eyes. Fortunately, some people kept after me. Fortunately, some people would not let me hide myself in this frustration. Fortunately, some people loved me enough for me to be able to see that love. A single act by a man at our church changed my life forever. He sat with me, imploring us to return to church. He understood our pain and frustration. He cried with me. Cried. He helped me see that we have a part to play in the healing of our church. He led our family back home. He joined us in an act of Repentance for all of the hurt at our church.
I have a new lease on life right now. I have found God incarnate in the words and actions of others at our church. I have experienced that Healing force of Repentance in a way I never thought possible. I never, ever, expected the act of walking away would become an act of Repentance. An act that helped turn me towards God and away from sin.
This is a crazy journey I am on right now. I don't get to understand all of it. I just keep showing up and trying to trust God to find me. For now, I will allow myself a moment of satisfaction. I get a glimpse of knowing that, every once in a while, I might be gaining an understanding of who I am in relationship to God. Repentance. Who would have thought it?
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Watch your tone!
I had an earlier post about "You Hypocrites!" I had started the post with the pretext that Jesus is yelling to those in authority. I sat with a Spiritual Director last weekend and she brought up this exact story. Although, her voice had a very different tone. Her tone was one of a loving Jesus beseeching people to see how they had strayed. Her voice was lowered, full of emotion and without judgement. She said that since Jesus embodied Love, he would have said everything in a loving matter. He needed to be able to be heard in Love.
I think this is one of my personal battles. I tend to get so animated, so passionate, so whatever, that people think that I am angry and judgemental. Instead of being heard in love, I make people defensive. Ugh! I guess I get to take, yet another, hard look at myself. No wonder I feel like one of the most misunderstood people on the face of the earth.
So, I guess Jesus must have mastered the ability to convey Love not only in his words, but in his tone. He was able to do this while challenging people to live fully into God's Love. He did it with simple sermons, simple parables and simple wisdom. He did it in a way that transformed those around him. He did it in a way that spread Love.
The Spiritual Director I saw last weekend convicted me on a couple of things. She conveyed her observations in such a loving manner, I heard it in love. She set the example that was set by Christ. I pray that I learn how to follow this example with my children, family and friends. I pray that I find the patience and words to convey not only my love to them, but also God's love.
I think this is one of my personal battles. I tend to get so animated, so passionate, so whatever, that people think that I am angry and judgemental. Instead of being heard in love, I make people defensive. Ugh! I guess I get to take, yet another, hard look at myself. No wonder I feel like one of the most misunderstood people on the face of the earth.
So, I guess Jesus must have mastered the ability to convey Love not only in his words, but in his tone. He was able to do this while challenging people to live fully into God's Love. He did it with simple sermons, simple parables and simple wisdom. He did it in a way that transformed those around him. He did it in a way that spread Love.
The Spiritual Director I saw last weekend convicted me on a couple of things. She conveyed her observations in such a loving manner, I heard it in love. She set the example that was set by Christ. I pray that I learn how to follow this example with my children, family and friends. I pray that I find the patience and words to convey not only my love to them, but also God's love.
Monday, May 3, 2010
The Lost Sheep
Matthew 15: 3-7
"So he told them this parable: What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one which is lost until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and with his neighbors saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost."
There are many times in my life I have felt like the lost sheep. Right now is one of them. I had resigned myself to wandering about, trying to find another flock. I did not expect anyone to come after me. I recognize this as just one more sign of false leadership in our church. Yet, somehow my expectations were proved to be false. I have had several of the laity to reach out to us and ask us to come back. I have had friends make efforts to stay in touch. I am beginning to realize that my perception of who the leaders are is wrong. Authentic leaders do go after the one which is lost.
"Scripture does not just describe false leadership; it also highlights what true leadership is all about. Earlier, in the Jeremiah 23 passage, we read of God's condemnation of false shepherds in verses 1 and 2. If we go on to read verse 4, it explains what good shepards are supposed to do: "'I will place shepards over them who will tend them, and they will no longer be afraid or terrified, nor will any be missing,' declares the Lord." True shepherds care for their flocks. They keep them safe and secure. They go after any who stray." p. 142 Healing the Scars of Emotional Abuse
This makes perfect sense to me! Any time I have felt utterly lost, someone, somewhere found me! It just wasn't necessarily who I had expected. Sometimes, I think it was simply God who found me. Since I was all by myself, it gave us a little one on one time. Right now, I feel a little bit like I am on the shoulders of the Great Shepard. God seems to be rejoicing with me. Me?!?
Tomorrow, we will return home to our church. We return with the confidence that comes with being wanted and welcome. Our eyes remain wide open to the burden of trying to move with this parish in a healthy direction. Yet, I remain hopeful. Hopeful that the nudge I feel, impelling me towards our home church, is for good.
"So he told them this parable: What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one which is lost until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and with his neighbors saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost."
There are many times in my life I have felt like the lost sheep. Right now is one of them. I had resigned myself to wandering about, trying to find another flock. I did not expect anyone to come after me. I recognize this as just one more sign of false leadership in our church. Yet, somehow my expectations were proved to be false. I have had several of the laity to reach out to us and ask us to come back. I have had friends make efforts to stay in touch. I am beginning to realize that my perception of who the leaders are is wrong. Authentic leaders do go after the one which is lost.
"Scripture does not just describe false leadership; it also highlights what true leadership is all about. Earlier, in the Jeremiah 23 passage, we read of God's condemnation of false shepherds in verses 1 and 2. If we go on to read verse 4, it explains what good shepards are supposed to do: "'I will place shepards over them who will tend them, and they will no longer be afraid or terrified, nor will any be missing,' declares the Lord." True shepherds care for their flocks. They keep them safe and secure. They go after any who stray." p. 142 Healing the Scars of Emotional Abuse
This makes perfect sense to me! Any time I have felt utterly lost, someone, somewhere found me! It just wasn't necessarily who I had expected. Sometimes, I think it was simply God who found me. Since I was all by myself, it gave us a little one on one time. Right now, I feel a little bit like I am on the shoulders of the Great Shepard. God seems to be rejoicing with me. Me?!?
Tomorrow, we will return home to our church. We return with the confidence that comes with being wanted and welcome. Our eyes remain wide open to the burden of trying to move with this parish in a healthy direction. Yet, I remain hopeful. Hopeful that the nudge I feel, impelling me towards our home church, is for good.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Food
This is something that I wrote last summer:
Sometimes, it is the simple acts of giving that are the biggest agents of change. I was at work one day, simply doing what I am paid to do. I was trying to discharge a homeless man from the Emergency Department. My tasks as a nurse were done. My tasks as a Christian were not. I felt a sense of duty to secure a cab ride for this man. I wanted to feed him. Angry at the delay, he started to yell at me, and call me names. I did not react to his lashing out, because I realized that he was wounded and scared. Yet, he was starting to disturb the other patients and bother the doctor. So, I finally said very firmly to him, “Sit down and be quiet. You are not leaving here until I feed you!”. What happened next changed me in many ways. He sat down on the end of the stretcher, buried his head in his hands and began to sob. He managed to ask me a question. His voice was raw and filled with hurt. “Why do you want to help me?” It was the question that had lived deep inside of me for many years. It was the same question that I had not had the courage to ask those around me. As I looked at his tears falling at our feet, I took a deep breath. The answer washed over me in a flood of my own emotions. “Simply because you are human. Every human deserves help and love.”
I found a sandwich in the refrigerator and brought it to his room. He began to eat, slowly. He seemed humbled and grateful for a moment of dignity. In those few short moments, I realized the immense privilege it had been for me to feed this man. I had a glimpse at what Christ meant when he said when you feed them, you also feed Me.
At church the next Sunday, my day was filled with my own tears. I managed to tell someone that I was having a hard time accepting the fact that she loved me. I confessed my own sins of lashing out and deflecting the love given to me by others. I realized that I had been asking the wrong question. I had been asking “Why would you hurt me?” I had been stuck in my wounds, waiting to be hurt. In that, I had forgotten the most important part of Love. It is in the fullness of the receiving that God is most present. This man showed me where I had failed. God’s love is ever present, all reaching and bigger than we could ever imagine. We don’t earn it, or have the ability to return it. It simply is there for the receiving. Every single human on the face of the earth deserves to know God’s love. Yet, we can only see it through the other humans around us. It takes courage, trust and humility to see it. Sometimes we get hurt. Sometimes others lash out at us. Sometimes we suffer deep betrayals. Yet, even in the deepest of wounds, God can reach us. Sometimes, we just need have someone tell us “Sit down and let me feed you.”
Sometimes, it is the simple acts of giving that are the biggest agents of change. I was at work one day, simply doing what I am paid to do. I was trying to discharge a homeless man from the Emergency Department. My tasks as a nurse were done. My tasks as a Christian were not. I felt a sense of duty to secure a cab ride for this man. I wanted to feed him. Angry at the delay, he started to yell at me, and call me names. I did not react to his lashing out, because I realized that he was wounded and scared. Yet, he was starting to disturb the other patients and bother the doctor. So, I finally said very firmly to him, “Sit down and be quiet. You are not leaving here until I feed you!”. What happened next changed me in many ways. He sat down on the end of the stretcher, buried his head in his hands and began to sob. He managed to ask me a question. His voice was raw and filled with hurt. “Why do you want to help me?” It was the question that had lived deep inside of me for many years. It was the same question that I had not had the courage to ask those around me. As I looked at his tears falling at our feet, I took a deep breath. The answer washed over me in a flood of my own emotions. “Simply because you are human. Every human deserves help and love.”
I found a sandwich in the refrigerator and brought it to his room. He began to eat, slowly. He seemed humbled and grateful for a moment of dignity. In those few short moments, I realized the immense privilege it had been for me to feed this man. I had a glimpse at what Christ meant when he said when you feed them, you also feed Me.
At church the next Sunday, my day was filled with my own tears. I managed to tell someone that I was having a hard time accepting the fact that she loved me. I confessed my own sins of lashing out and deflecting the love given to me by others. I realized that I had been asking the wrong question. I had been asking “Why would you hurt me?” I had been stuck in my wounds, waiting to be hurt. In that, I had forgotten the most important part of Love. It is in the fullness of the receiving that God is most present. This man showed me where I had failed. God’s love is ever present, all reaching and bigger than we could ever imagine. We don’t earn it, or have the ability to return it. It simply is there for the receiving. Every single human on the face of the earth deserves to know God’s love. Yet, we can only see it through the other humans around us. It takes courage, trust and humility to see it. Sometimes we get hurt. Sometimes others lash out at us. Sometimes we suffer deep betrayals. Yet, even in the deepest of wounds, God can reach us. Sometimes, we just need have someone tell us “Sit down and let me feed you.”
Monday, April 26, 2010
Looking at the edge of the water
Matthew 14: 28-31
And Peter answered him, "Lord if it is you, bid me come to you on the water." He said "Come." So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus; but when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, "Lord, save me." Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, "O man of little faith, why did you doubt?"
After publishing my last post, I realized that it was time for me to call my spiritual mother. I also realized that I was getting a bit snotty with my comments about wanting others to 'practice what they preach.' So when I got her on the phone, I started telling her about missing her and missing my church. Next thing you know, she started to challenge me. Yep, you guessed it, she told me something that I didn't want to hear. She talked to me about this story about Peter.
"You are too busy looking at the edge of the water!" She said that once Peter took his eyes off of Jesus he began to get scared and started to drown. She told me that I need to quit worrying about what everyone else is doing and concentrate on Jesus.
Of course, she is right. I keep getting distracted from my own walk with Jesus. I am amazed at how this story fits so directly into my life right now. I am amazed at this woman's ability to draw me into this one, and others.
Every single day, I make mistakes. Some of them I learn from. Many of them I am doomed to repeat. I am blessed to have people in my life who find ways to reach me when I get caught up in myself. Because of them, I get to grow. I will grow for the rest of my life. When we stop growing, we start dying. Or in Peter's case, we start drowning.
And Peter answered him, "Lord if it is you, bid me come to you on the water." He said "Come." So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus; but when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, "Lord, save me." Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, "O man of little faith, why did you doubt?"
After publishing my last post, I realized that it was time for me to call my spiritual mother. I also realized that I was getting a bit snotty with my comments about wanting others to 'practice what they preach.' So when I got her on the phone, I started telling her about missing her and missing my church. Next thing you know, she started to challenge me. Yep, you guessed it, she told me something that I didn't want to hear. She talked to me about this story about Peter.
"You are too busy looking at the edge of the water!" She said that once Peter took his eyes off of Jesus he began to get scared and started to drown. She told me that I need to quit worrying about what everyone else is doing and concentrate on Jesus.
Of course, she is right. I keep getting distracted from my own walk with Jesus. I am amazed at how this story fits so directly into my life right now. I am amazed at this woman's ability to draw me into this one, and others.
Every single day, I make mistakes. Some of them I learn from. Many of them I am doomed to repeat. I am blessed to have people in my life who find ways to reach me when I get caught up in myself. Because of them, I get to grow. I will grow for the rest of my life. When we stop growing, we start dying. Or in Peter's case, we start drowning.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Witness
Last night, I decided at the last minute to attend the Holocaust Memorial service in Columbia. As I was driving there, my social anxieties started to surface. I don't like going to an event by myself. I had never attended a service at this Synagogue. As my mind started to wander, I started thinking about my maternal grandfather. A couple of years ago, I found out that he was involved in the liberation of Buchenwald. Since he did not speak much about it, I pieced together stories from my mother, and information off of the Internet. I have no details, but it is clear that he was involved. I also know that in the late 1950's, he took my mother and grandmother to visit Dachau. He took his family so that they could see in person what had happened there. This made a very big impression on my teenage mother. I have heard hers, and my grandmother's story of this trip many times.
My grandfather died before I was born. As I understand things, he suffered with alcoholism and many of the ills associated with it. I think it would be easy to say that he led a bit of a tortured life, and his family suffered with him. I never thought much about all of this until last night. At the memorial service, main speaker was a man who served in the American army and liberated one of the camps. He only spoke for about 15 minutes, but his words carried great power. He managed to give a strong sense of what he found without going into much detail. At the end of his talk, he tried to convey a story about one of his soldiers. After 65 years, and numerous speeches, this man choked back tears as he tried to tell his story. I sat in stunned silence as I recognized the immense burden this man carries. He carries the burden of being a first hand witness to the unimaginable. He has carried his burden well, but obviously there is a price.
I now look at my grandfather with different eyes. I had a glimpse at the burden he must have carried. I can only imagine how hard it was for him to reconcile his experiences. My grandfather's trip to Dachau with his family was probably his best attempt at providing witness. He could not talk much about it, but he made sure that his daughter saw with her own two eyes.
So, a chance encounter at a service helps put so many things into perspective for me. I wish that I could go back and speak to my grandfather. I have to honor the price he paid for serving in a war. I have to acknowledge the price he paid for being a witness.
My grandfather died before I was born. As I understand things, he suffered with alcoholism and many of the ills associated with it. I think it would be easy to say that he led a bit of a tortured life, and his family suffered with him. I never thought much about all of this until last night. At the memorial service, main speaker was a man who served in the American army and liberated one of the camps. He only spoke for about 15 minutes, but his words carried great power. He managed to give a strong sense of what he found without going into much detail. At the end of his talk, he tried to convey a story about one of his soldiers. After 65 years, and numerous speeches, this man choked back tears as he tried to tell his story. I sat in stunned silence as I recognized the immense burden this man carries. He carries the burden of being a first hand witness to the unimaginable. He has carried his burden well, but obviously there is a price.
I now look at my grandfather with different eyes. I had a glimpse at the burden he must have carried. I can only imagine how hard it was for him to reconcile his experiences. My grandfather's trip to Dachau with his family was probably his best attempt at providing witness. He could not talk much about it, but he made sure that his daughter saw with her own two eyes.
So, a chance encounter at a service helps put so many things into perspective for me. I wish that I could go back and speak to my grandfather. I have to honor the price he paid for serving in a war. I have to acknowledge the price he paid for being a witness.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Good Friday
It is Good Friday. It is the day that we remember the Crucifixion. I have always, even as a child, taken this day very seriously. I was raised Lutheran, and our church didn't use any sort of Liturgy for this day. They usually offered silent communion. It was probably my favorite service of the year. It was a solemn, silent, personal passive experience. It was a way for me to try to understand what happened so long ago.
When we joined the Episcopal church several years ago, I was able to worship this day in an entirely different manner. I wept as we walked the stations of the cross. I watched with awe as our Priest reverenced the cross during that first service. At that moment, I vowed to remain true to my Christian heritage. The next year, I would reverence a cross at the convent. This was an act. I was finding a way to participate in church, not just watch.
This Good Friday is different for me. I am not a participant in any corporate worships services. Well, at least I am a passive participant. Maybe that isn't it either. I've never been a particularly passive person. In fact, I think there in lies my troubles at my current church.
I am going to the Cathedral for the Good Friday Liturgy today. It will go back to the solemn, silent, personal way of trying to understand. Although, this time, it will be a little bit different. I will sit and try to understand what happened so long ago in a context of what is happening today. I understand, now, that there is nothing passive about worship. We all participate. It is with that awareness that I approach this weekend's services.
I am trying to embrace this year's Good Friday and Easter's celebrations. I am worshipping among strangers. I am worshipping without a strong sense of connection to my home church and the brothers and sisters who are there. I am beginning the process of shedding the layers of frustration, anger and shame. I seem to be working my way back to the cross.
When we joined the Episcopal church several years ago, I was able to worship this day in an entirely different manner. I wept as we walked the stations of the cross. I watched with awe as our Priest reverenced the cross during that first service. At that moment, I vowed to remain true to my Christian heritage. The next year, I would reverence a cross at the convent. This was an act. I was finding a way to participate in church, not just watch.
This Good Friday is different for me. I am not a participant in any corporate worships services. Well, at least I am a passive participant. Maybe that isn't it either. I've never been a particularly passive person. In fact, I think there in lies my troubles at my current church.
I am going to the Cathedral for the Good Friday Liturgy today. It will go back to the solemn, silent, personal way of trying to understand. Although, this time, it will be a little bit different. I will sit and try to understand what happened so long ago in a context of what is happening today. I understand, now, that there is nothing passive about worship. We all participate. It is with that awareness that I approach this weekend's services.
I am trying to embrace this year's Good Friday and Easter's celebrations. I am worshipping among strangers. I am worshipping without a strong sense of connection to my home church and the brothers and sisters who are there. I am beginning the process of shedding the layers of frustration, anger and shame. I seem to be working my way back to the cross.
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