The Mainline Minister

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,    and on earth peace among those whom he favours!’

We're almost there.  It's Christmas Eve Day.  Are we ready for the arrival of Baby Jesus? Of course not.  Fortunately, God-with-us, Emmanuel, comes knowing that we fall short of the mark, that we don't measure up, that we are still made to give and forgive, to be in relationship, to reconcile and repent, to love and be loved.  Here's the Good News for this day: we may not be ready for Jesus, but Jesus is ready for us.

We're almost there.  Christmas Eve is tomorrow.  But while we may be excited about our imminent arrival at Christmas, let's do ourselves a favor and enjoy this last full day of Advent.  Let's take some time to reflect, to sit quietly, to just be.  Le'ts open ourselves to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  Let's enjoy the last bit of this journey.  We're almost there.  But were not there yet - so let's enjoy and give thanks for where we are.

With Christmas just a couple of days away, I'm feeling a bit harried.  There's just too much to do.  However, when I begin to feel overwhelmed, I pause and take a deep breath and try to remember where I am: Advent.  Right until the end of this season we are supposed to watch and wait, be present in the moment so we can be present for the arrival of the Christ child. Too much going on?  Take a deep breath. Jesus is coming.

Today is the winter solstice.  This evening members of the Upper Valley Community will come together to remember those who without adequate, stable housing who have died over the past year.  For many, this is a time of joy and celebration.  But for others, this season of long nights and frigid temperatures is an hour to worry about survival.  As we prepare room for the Christ child in our hearts, let us honor the baby Jesus by rededicating ourselves to finding and preparing rooms for our homeless neighbors in need. N.B. For my Upper Valley readers, there will be a vigil at Tri-County CAP on 57 Mechanic Street in Lebanon to remember those who died over the past year.  Please join us if you can at 5:30.

Yesterday was one of those days when the bad news kept on coming.  The Russian ambassador was murdered in Ankarra.  A terrorist drove into a crowded Christmas market in Berlin.  Closer to home, the final consequential act of the 2016 presidential election took place reminding us of the divisions in our own country.  It was a dark day. Now, as I reflect on this, I contemplate the funeral service I will lead later this afternoon and the conversation I had with the family, which does not belong to the church I serve, and I have hope.   The family members have a variety of different understandings about religion yet their focus was on celebrating the life of their beloved and supporting each other during a difficult time.  In contrast to the darkness, in a moment opened by death, the light shone through.  We welcome the light during this season of Advent because we know its source and we recognize our need.  Welcoming the Christ child into our lives is the way we who foll

I thrilled to watching moon shots when I was a kid.  The countdown before the mighty Saturn V rocket blasted off built a sense of anticipation.  Going into outer space was a big deal.  It still is, even if bumming a ride from the Russians to get to the space station may not have the same romance. Advent can be like this too.  Some of us have been doing it for so long, we've lost sight of how exciting this season should be.  Perhaps we're just too caught up in the details.  But let's not lose sight of the fact that we're preparing for something remarkable.  And it's almost here! So get excited.  It's just five days until Christmas.  Which means we still have some time to prepare for the amazing thing that God has done, will do, and is doing in and through Jesus.

It's icy and slick outside today.  People are going to take extra care as they walk, they'll be alert, looking around to avoid hazards. Advent is a time to be careful, too.  We should be mindful of our journey towards Bethlehem, making sure not to be tripped up by parties or shopping or all of the many ways our society twists the meaning of Christmas. So, be careful - it's still Advent!

Right now I'm watching the snow fall.  I'm enjoying the view and the sense of peace that's descended on the neighborhood.  But what's that I hear in the background?  Yes, it's a snow blower.  Someone is trying to get ahead of the curve.  Me? I'll stay inside where it's warm and deal with white stuff later on. This all seems right during Advent.  I've got a lot to get in order before Christmas Eve next Saturday but I'm determined to live into the Advent moment as long as I can.  To take some time to anticipate, to prepare, to listen. If you can, enjoy the snow today.  Sit back, relax, reflect.  There will be time to clean up later.

When I woke up this morning, my weather app told me it was 6 below zero.  I was lucky enough to learn this from the comfort of a warm bed in a well-heated house.  This is not true for all of our neighbors.  As we prepare for the arrival of Jesus, this Advent season is a good time to think about what we as individuals and as a community can do to ensure that nobody is sleeping outside in the cold.

There's so much information coming our way, so much noise to cut through, that it can be hard to hear what's really important.  What are you listening for this Advent season?  What do you think God might be calling you to do during this season of anticipation?  Listen closely, listen faithfully.  Who knows what surprises may be in store for you!

This morning when I arrived at church there was nowhere to park.  The lot was full, which meant I'd have to look elsewhere for a spot.  An inconvenience? Yes.  But one I was more than happy to deal with.  That's because today was a WIC clinic day.  A couple of times a month, WIC sets up shop in our parish hall and offers vital services to families with kids.  It's a ministry of our church that most members don't get to see, but it's one of which I'm especially proud.  Space that would normally sit empty and unused midweek instead becomes a location where our neighbors are able to get the assistance they need to ensure healthy outcomes for their children. Talk about a vision of what the church should be!  A place where are all welcome, where everyone can find support and succor and nourishment and life.  This is an  Advent vision, and it's what we know is coming with the birth of Jesus.  So let us prepare room for the Christ-child by continuing

There's a nasty virus making its way around the Upper Valley.  Much to my disappointment, it decided to pay a visit to my house.  I was flat on my back on Tuesday, unable to focus.  Among the things that didn't get done was my Advent reflection.  I could have just skipped the missed day but decided I'd try to make it up. Advent is a good time to think about things we'd like to make up, too.  Prayers not prayed, Scripture not read, fellowship not partaken of, service not rendered.  As we prepare for the arrival of the infant Jesus, let's think about what we've not done and get around to doing it.  We may be a day late, but that's okay.  God's waiting for us to give the way of Jesus a try, even if we're running behind schedule.

We've had our first major snowfall of the year here in the Upper Valley, and as a result, a snow day has been declared.  School children are thrilled while many parents are suddenly juggling schedules.  For some, the interruption is a gift, for others, an unwelcome disruption.  Either way, the cancellation of classes and other events is a reminder that for all of our pretensions to being in charge, there are some things that lay beyond our control. Advent is a fine time to reflect on this truth, to think about how it is the God who comes to us as an infant born in a manger who is control of all Creation, and how God wields this control with mercy, love, and grace for all creatures, great and small.

Today is Gaudette Sunday, which takes its name from the Latin for rejoice. In worship, we will hear the Magnificat, Mary's song of thanksgiving and praise which is filled with joy.  What gives you joy?  Think about that, and then thank God.

The seventh day of the week, we are taught in Genesis, is when God rested from his labors.  Created in his image, and following his example, we take a day of Sabbath, too. Or at least we claim to do this. How often do we say, "I'll take a break later?" or "I have no time to rest."  Sometimes, we may be faced with unavoidable demands on our schedules.  But all too often, we simply do as everyone else around us does and in today's society, being busy means being important.  On this Saturday in Advent, I would like to encourage us to do differently, to follow God's example, and to remember that we are important not because of how much we do, but because we are beloved of God.

When I turned on my computer a few minutes ago, everything seemed dull and washed out due to cloudy skies.  But a couple of moments ago, the sun broke through, momentarily filling the room with a warm light. The break in the cover has passed. But the memory of the ray of sunshine remains vivid.  I know it will fade, but it's worth enjoying.  Some pleasures in life are fleeting.  Rather than bemoan their ephemeral nature, we can appreciate them for what they are: bursts of joy. Advent can help us to prepare for these surprises, just as it can help us be ready for sudden, momentary intrusions of God's grace into our lives.  So, during this season leading up to Christmas, keep your eyes open.  You never know what you'll see - like the sunshine that's once again pouring in through the windows ...

Invariably during Advent, there will be a day when too much is going on and I find myself sending out a morning reflection late in the day.  This is one of those days.  I'm running from here to there and back again.  It's at times like this that the value of Advent, with its call to take a moment to stop, reflect, and pray, is so manifest. So, if you're running behind, it's most likely going to be okay.  Take a deep breath, give thanks to God for at least one blessing you've received today, and then jump back into the fray.

Today marks the 75th anniversary of the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, which finally drew the United States into the great war that was raging in Europe and Asia.  On this day we remember those among our countrymen who lost their lives and those who were called upon to fight for their nation in the wake of this assault.  As we do so, I believe we would do well to reflect on how in the wake of this day of infamy and the terrible conflict that ensued, two nations that were enemies ultimately became allies, their peoples friends.  During this Advent season, let us wait, let us prepare, for peace, for reconciliation, for God's future come to us in an infant.

At the end of a day of meetings in Boston yesterday I walked by St. Paul's Cathedral on Tremont seat.  When I'd last been inside the seat of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts, the sanctuary was filled with box pews, evoking an 18th Century New England church.  But that changed back in 2015.  I knew the Diocese had run a campaign to revitalize the cathedral but didn't know what they'd actually done. One addition to the church was a small chapel honoring the now-defunct St. John's on Bowdoin Street; I have rich memories of serving dinner to homeless neighbors on Beacon Hill at that church.  The new worship space was simple, but inviting, and strikes me as a great addition.  But what was most notable about the sanctuary wasn't so much the addition but the subtraction.  The pews were gone.  Every last one of them.  Instead, in the middle of the room were stacked chairs on carts, waiting to be set out for the next service or program.  A flexible w

I have to go to Boston today so I've asked a couple of neighbors to look after the dog while I'm out of town.  Advent is a great time for us to reflect on the question of neighborliness.  Who, ultimately, is our neighbor?  Is it the person who lives next door?  Down the street?  In our town?  On the far side of the globe? Tradition tells us that Joseph and Mary weren't seen as neighbors when they were looking for a place to stay.  Instead, they were strangers, people from away.  Give the innkeeper his due: At least the Holy Family were allowed to stay in the manger and weren't sent packing. As we prepare in the coming days to welcome the Christ child into our lives, let us reflect and pray on who is our neighbor, who God might want us to see as our neighbor, and how we might then act with faith and love.

Today we celebrate communion.  For some Christians, this isn't a big deal as the Lord's Supper as shared weekly or even daily.  In our mainline Protestant tradition, though, we do so just once a month, traditionally observing this sacrament on the first Sunday. This is worth thinking on for a few moments as it is a liturgical moment that ties what we are anticipating - the birth of the baby Jesus - with the ministry and ultimate death and resurrection of the adult Jesus.  All we do throughout the Christian year points to, not Christmas, but Easter.  The world-changing event in a manger leads directly to the world changing-event on a cross, the latter infusing the former with its meaning and purpose.  This December, as we anticipate the Feast of the Nativity, let us also make space in our hearts, minds, and souls for the Feast of the Resurrection!

It's hard to believe, but we're already a quarter of the way to Christmas! How has your first week of Advent been.  Are you beginning to feel prepared for the arrival of baby Jesus or are you feeling behind schedule? If we're honest, we'll admit that no matter what we do we're never fully prepared for the arrival of the Christ child.  But we can take cheer from the assurance that it doesn't matter.  God isn't expecting perfection from us but faith.  So take a moment, draw a deep breath, offer a prayer and jump on into Advent.  After all, we still have 3/4 of the season remaining.

As I type this reflection in my study at the church, I'm listening to Charles Gounod's Symphony No. 1 in D Major, which is streaming on WQXR, New York  City's classical radio station. I remember listening to WQXR when I was a kid growing up outside of New York.  Back then, the only way to listen to the radio was with a radio, and one within transmitting distance of midtown Manhattan.  Now, I can listen to this station anywhere in the world as long as I have internet access.  Of course, as I reflect on this marvel of technology, it's worth taking a moment to consider the fact that this music could actually be recorded!  When I was a kid, people listened to LPs (and now seem to be doing so again!), then tapes (including flash in the pan 8 tracks), followed by CDs and MP3 files. Now it's just a bunch of data streaming from the cloud.  But all of that marked a sea change from the experience of most people through history, who could only enjoy music perfo

I find I'm writing a lot about the weather lately.  I don't mean to, but it seems to be so unpredictable as of late.  Warm, cold, rain, sleet, sunshine.  Today, for instance, it's been all over the board, oh so random.  Our lives can take on that feeling too, lending to a sense that things might spiral out of control and that we're at the mercy of an unfeeling, uncaring cosmos.  Advent reminds us otherwise. During this season, we tread a well worn path, one blazed by our forebears in faith as we make our way to Christmas.  We read Scripture and participate in worship to maintain our bearings, engage in service and fellowship to remind ourselves that we are not alone.  We know that we will arrive in Bethlehem and that there God will be waiting for us.  Along the way we may make a wrong turn, take a detour, get caught up in traffic, maybe even want to head back from whence we came.  But if we allow ourselves to be led by the Spirit, we will make it to our d

It was unusually foggy this morning, even warranting a weather service alert.  Pea soupish, to be exact.  There's something mysterious about fog, the way things are hidden, and what is visible is often softened, even made to seem intangible.  I like it. But too much fog for too long isn't a good thing.  We need to see.  We need clarity.  And just as this is true in the natural world, so it is in our spiritual lives.  Things can become foggy, occluded, vague.  We can become comfortable with this state of affairs and forget what spiritual clarity is like.  Advent is a time when we can focus on the world around us and open ourselves to God, praying that the Spirit will come a lift the fog around us.  When that happens, we will be amazed at what God has in store for us to see!

A few years ago, some clever soul cooked up the idea of Giving Tuesday.  The idea is simple: after Americans have binged shopped from Black Friday through Cyber Monday, they could shift gears and give, rather than get.  It's a nice idea, but it also begs a question: shouldn't every day be Giving Tuesday? During Advent, we prepare for the greatest gift every given: Jesus.  That central claim of the Christian faith can sound maudlin, but when we take time to think about what it is we confess God has done in coming to us, to be one of us, we should be awed by the epic magnanimity of our Creator.  What a gift!  Freely given, at no cost to us, God gives us love, grace, hope, redemption, new beginnings, new life.  Wow. This Advent, let's pray over and discern how we as individuals and as a community might respond to God's profligate daily generosity.

A few days ago, the forecast for the start of this week was for dirty weather.  But as  I look out the window of my study right now, the sun is breaking through the clouds.  It's not what was expected, but is a welcome development.  Surprises need not be a bad thing. Advent, the season of anticipation, is a time when we can work on appreciating the beautiful surprises that God springs upon us.  Some of these are great, some of them are small; all of them are blessings that we need to be alert to.  If we're not in the habit of looking for these gifts, we will miss them.  Over the coming weeks, let's join together in looking and listening for the unexpected.  Let's look for sunny skies, even when we're expecting foul weather.  Who knows what might happen?  Who knows what we might experience?

Hurry Up And Wait Today we begin Advent.  Today we begin to wait. But for what?  What is it we await during this season?  What do we anticipate?  What do we hope we will encounter at the end of this time? We have just four weeks to come up with answers to these questions.  During this Advent I invite you to join me in praying on these questions, in adopting a discipline of listening and looking, of trying to more aware of the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives. So let's hurry up ... and wait.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! On this Easter Sunday we are delighted to discover that the journey did not end on Good Friday.  Rather, this morning we find that God is taking us in new and surprising ways.  Let us give thanks to God for the wondrous thing he has done and is doing in and through Jesus. Alleluia! Christ is Risen today!

By any standard of our world, our Lenten journey should have come to an awful, painful end yesterday.  His ministry was ended emphatically on a cross.  Perhaps he caused a little bit of a stir while traveling the highways and byways of Galilee and Judea.  Maybe he did enjoy his fifteen minutes of fame in Jerusalem.  But to what end?  So he could be executed beside a couple of crooks?  All of the teaching, healing, preaching, loving, challenging of Jesus was for naught the cynics and doubters, scoffers and savants said - and have said for 2,000 years.  The road Jesus journey came to an end on Calvary.  Yet we believe otherwise.  We, as Christians, believe that the cross was not the final destination.  We believe God's promises.  We hold the conviction that Jesus' story, his ministry, his presence, his power did not come to an end on Good Friday.  Far from it.  With hope, we anticipate that something more is to come. This Holy Saturday, I invite you to reflect on yo

It seemed apt that the day began with a cold, raw, rain.  It was as if Creation itself was mourning the horror and the injustice of what was done to Jesus.  On this day, we are called to confront the evil that can be wrought in our world.  Not that we should not be aware of this awful truth throughout the year, lest we become complacent or complicit.  But on this Good Friday, we gaze into the abyss.  We watch as the forces of hate, fear, ignorance, prejudice, chaos, and anomie lash out with all their fury and might.  We steel ourselves as Jesus takes the brunt of the assault for us, demonstrating conclusively how far God is willing to go on our behalf. The morning will come.  We know this.  But first ... darkness.

In many churches today the washing of feet will be a centerpiece of the Maundy Thursday liturgy.  This element of worship recalls Jesus' washing of feet and his exchange with Peter about what it means to be a servant to others.  As we enter into the Triduum, the three days leading up to Easter, consider how others have been a servant to you and how you may be a servant to others.  After you've reflected, let the Spirit guide you into putting your thoughts into faithful practice.

I'm tired today.  This is a state not unknown to clergy during Holy Week.  But it's not so much everything that's happening this week that's leaving me drained as it is the world around me.  Yesterday's attacks in Brussels were just the most recent in a string of atrocities: Ankara, Ivory Coast ... San Bernadino ... the list goes on.  We are told that radical Islamists are behind the killing.  Some have responded by saying that all Muslims should be barred from entering the country.  Others suggest monitoring Muslim neighborhoods.  This doesn't seem very Christian to me.  Jesus told us to turn the other cheek.  When he did so, he didn't call us to be patsies - he was actually suggesting something provocative, something that took away control from the aggressor.  If Holy Week teaches us anything, it is that the forces of darkness in our world will take every opportunity to turn us against one another and thus hinder the advent of God's kingd

I woke up this morning to the news of terrorists murdering travelers and commuters in Brussels.  Oftentimes, events like this are called tragedies.  In truth, they're outrages.  Murder in the name of God or a political ideology isn't something that happens to people; it's something that is intentionally done by some people to others.  Why one person would murder another person is a question that has been asked since the beginning of time.  Facile answers are all too easy to come by.  I know I can't offer a definitive explanation. What I do know is this: later this week we will remember the murder of Jesus by those who were frightened, angry, ruthless, fallen.  And at that moment, God was present, experiencing Jesus' pain and suffering, ultimately turning it into something healing.  This morning I have no doubt that God is with the people of Brussels.  That may be small comfort to some.  I can understand that.  But when I consider the alternative - that

Yesterday was the first day of spring and this morning it was snowing.  Welcome to New England! Weather jokes aside, snow in spring, though not unheard of in this region, is still disconcerting.  Our expectation is that with the arrival of spring, we can look forward to flowers blooming, birds singing, and the rebirth of a tired, sometimes bleak, landscape.  When it snows after spring has begun, it can feel as if our hopes of something warmer, better, newer were premature, even all for nought.  We can have moments like this in our spiritual lives, too.  Scripture tells us that God is already remaking the world, yet we look around and think we see no sign of a new creation.  Don't be fooled!  It's all around us. God is faithful to his promises.  Holy Week is an especially good time to remember just how reliable God really is.  At the darkest moment of history, God redeemed everything in and through Jesus.  What happened long ago, is still happening today. What time

Today we begin Holy Week.  During today's Palm Sunday worship we commemorate Jesus' entry into Jerusalem.  We recall with song and excitement the rapturous welcome he received.  And then, called to be honest with ourselves, we remember how those who cheered Jesus fell away and we are confronted with the question: when will we fall away?  For fall away we will. But then we have a choice: to return to God in repentance, or to hide ourselves away from God's love? Today we can imagine Peter lustily cheering on his teacher and friend.  Later this week we will encounter Peter denying Jesus three times.  But then Easter will come -- and Peter will be redeemed.  Peter will not be alone for on that day, Jesus will redeem all humanity.  The question for us is what we will do in response. So, wave a palm today.  Sing "All Glory, Laud, and Honor" with abandon.  But be ready for what comes next - for Holy Week begins today.

It's a beautiful sunny morning.  A bit cold perhaps, but it is still winter after all, if only for a couple of more days.  The same is true with Lent.  Tomorrow begins Holy Week and before we know it, we'll be celebrating Easter.  That's great.  That's wonderful.  But let's not lose sight of the imperative of this season: to reflect, repent, renew.  Try to take some time this day to pray to God about those things you've done and those things you've left undone, then think about what you might do differently going forward.  True, Lent is almost over. But not yet.  There's still time.  And this is a good morning to do so!

Christopher Buckley, the author and humorist, published a collection of essays and columns last year titled "But Enough About You."  I think that would have been a great title for a book about Lent.  And so, while Mr. Buckley wasn't writing about this liturgical season, I will now happily appropriate his title, if not for a book of my own then at least for this reflection. Lent is a good time to remind ourselves that the universe does not revolve around us.  Instead, the focal point of Creation is God, even if we fail to recognize or choose to ignore this reality.  Lent offers an opportunity to renew our acquaintance with the truth of who is at the center of all being: God.  During these days before Easter, through prayer, reflection, and repentance, we ought to take the time each day to say to ourselves, "But enough about you.  It's time to focus on God."

To the best of our knowledge, St. Patrick did not drink wear green.  We know he did not drink Guinness.  And I'm confident he did not wear shamrock deely-boppers.  The fact is, he was too busy spreading the Gospel to the people of Ireland.  Today, as millions of American and others around the world seek to "honor" the patron saint of Ireland by hoisting a pint, let's do Patrick the true honor of spending some time reflecting on the power of God, the redemptive work of the Spirit, and the model of Jesus in and for our lives.  Then, let's share the good news with others.

Monday was Pi Day (at least here in the US, where our shorthand for the date was 3/14.  Not so in other parts of the world which put the day before the month!). Tuesday was the Ides of March (Sorry, Caesar). Tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day.  Or, if you live in Boston, Evacuation Day (which commemorates the British evacuation of Boston in 1776). Today, though, is just a plain old Wednesday.  There's nothing to remember, nothing to mark.  Except this: today is the day that the Lord has made.  And that's pretty neat.  We can easily forget that each day is a precious gift from God.  Lent is a good time to remind ourselves of this truth and to repent for all of the times we've forgotten this reality.  So give thanks for this God-given day.  Have a parade, put out the bunting, rejoice!

"Almost every Christian I meet cannot quite believe that they are loved by God and forgiven – entirely. If I pray one thing for you, and for me, it’s that we find constantly afresh that we are overwhelmed by the love of God."  These words from Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury, are just what we need to hear during this Lenten season and, to be honest, throughout the year.  Forgiveness is powerful and transformative.  When have you felt forgiveness?  When have you offered it.  And, as this is a time of reflection and repentance, when have you spurned or withheld this holy gift?  Let us think about these questions, pray on them, and act on what we discern.

From our earliest years we are taught by our parents, families, teachers, and church to do the right thing.  Yet we all know from experience that implementing what we have learned can be more challenging than we expect.  We may want to do the right thing but then temptation arises and we quickly find ourselves making excuses and offering justifications for why a different course of action may be warranted, or at least excusable, if only in one particular instance.  That's why I was inspired by the story of Laurie Rimon, who whilst hiking in northern Israel found a 2,000 year old gold Roman coin.  She was tempted to hold on to her find but instead contacted the Israel Antiquities Authority, which quickly mobilized to do research.  One thing that was quickly learned: there is only one other known example of this coin in the world and it's in the British Museum.  Ms. Rimon could have held onto her treasure and nobody would have been any the wiser.  Instead, she has c

Today we read about Mary's using expensive oil to anoint Jesus' feet.  This was generous gift was a remarkable act of love.  Think today of remarkable gifts you have received and given.  Consider what make them special and meaningful.  Then reflect on how your experience might be similar to or different from that of Mary and Jesus.  When you're all done, offer a prayer of gratitude for the wondrous possibilities inherent in gifts and giving.

Tonight (or if you are a stickler for these things, early tomorrow morning), we will set our clocks ahead by one hour and begin Daylight Savings Time.  That's not the only change, though.  We'll move into a new period of Lent.  No, not Holy Week.  That is yet to come.  But the Fifth Week of Lent has always struck me as being just a bit different from the rest of the season.  There's something transitional about these days and also a sense of urgency.  The time to simply focus on Lent is running short.  Soon we'll be caught up in the liturgical dynamics of Jesus' last days, his death, and ultimately his resurrection.  So we ought to take care to be focused on our prayers, our meditations, our being present as we repent, reflect, and renew.  Yes, we're moving forward.  But we need not move to quickly.  Instead, we should make full use of every minute to tend to our relationships with God and God's people.

Early this morning all was quiet at the church.  It was a perfect time to pray.  I came before the Lenten cross in the parish hall, gathered my thoughts, and took a few moments to be with God in prayer.  Though I have a busy day ahead of me, I already know that this time will be with me, nurturing and sustaining me, until nightfall. Do yourself a favor: sometime today, take a moment, find a quiet place, and pray.  You won't be disappointed!

We have a bit of a box elder bug problem at the church.  These bugs are harmless.  But they are annoying.  And I find bugs to be creepy.  But they're part of God's creation, so there we are.  I don't have to like them, but there's lots in life I don't have to like but do have to abide.  If I'm attentive, I might go beyond abiding and actually learn something.   Lent can be like this too.  There are times when it's a drag - I really wanted a cup of coffee this morning - but if we are willing to take a step back and think about things, we can glean new insights about things like patience and perseverance. So this morning, as I've foregone my cup of Joe and have already released two box elder bugs back into the wild, I will be alert to the Spirit, waiting to see where it will lead me on this Thursday during the fourth week of Lent.

According to the report I heard on the radio this morning, meteorological winter, the stretch of winter with the 91 average coldest days of the year, comes to an end today.  As if to punctuate this development, the forecast is for temperatures in the mid 60s in the Upper Valley.  It's going to fell like Pentecost! Before we get too comfortable, though, we should remember that snow could hit us right up through the middle of April. Winter may not yet be done with us. Lent definitely isn't. We still have two and a half weeks until Easter.  The clock is ticking and now is a good time for us to focus on what we need to do during this season of reflection, repentance, and renewal.  Remember that our time is not God's time.  Our time is based on our observations of the skies, the passage of seasons, the calendars we create.  God's time is that which governs all creation.  God's time is that in which we find new life - regardless of whether meteorological or

This morning, as I prepared to eat breakfast, I offered a prayer.  As I was doing so, I realized what I was sharing with God was rather pro forma.  True, I'm not feeling well today.  But that's not a reason, it's an excuse.  So I stopped.  Then I began again, really thinking about my blessings, my gratitude for the food I was about to eat, and all of the good things God has done in my life.  I also asked God, having just "mailed it in," to give me the ability to do something useful, substantive, and meaningful this day. This Lent, as we reflect on our lives, it's helpful to not just focus on the "bad" things we do but also on the "good" ones, looking at motive and implementation.  Are we going through the motions?  Are we doing things to look holy to our friends?  Or are we fully investing ourselves in our faith practices, whether of worship, service, fellowship, for the glory of God? Jesus told us to pray to our Father.  Let&#

Psalm 122 shares a pilgrim's joy as he approaches the city of Jerusalem.  It also highlights a longing for peace and wholeness.  What places in your life elicit joy from you?  What places in your life do you wish to see enveloped by peace?  How might you make that happen? A Song of Ascents. Of David. 1 I was glad when they said to me,    ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord !’ 2 Our feet are standing    within your gates, O Jerusalem. 3 Jerusalem—built as a city    that is bound firmly together. 4 To it the tribes go up,    the tribes of the Lord , as was decreed for Israel,    to give thanks to the name of the  Lord . 5 For there the thrones for judgement were set up,    the thrones of the house of David. 6 Pray for the peace of Jerusalem:    ‘May they prosper who love you. 7 Peace be within your walls,    and security within your towers.’ 8 For the sake of my relatives and friends    I will say, ‘Peace be within you.’ 9 For the sake of the house of the Lord our G

Today we read the Parable of the Prodigal Son in church (Luke 15:11b-32).  This is a very, very familiar story - which in a way is a problem since a parable is meant to capture the attention of the audience, to spur them to see things in a new light.  Take a few moments to read the story.  Sit quietly. Consider what jumps out at you, what word, phrase, or idea startles you.  Think about your discovery.  Then offer a prayer of thanksgiving to God for stories that help us see our lives in a different, potentially transforming, light.

Did you know that the Iditarod race begins today?  Intrepid mushers and hardy dogs will make the long journey from Anchorage to Nome, battling the elements and testing their endurance along the way, propelled by conviction but perhaps at times wondering if they are up to the task at hand.  Hmm.  Sounds kind of like Lent. We're half way through our spiritual Iditarod.  We can imagine what it will be like to arrive at Easter.  But we're not there yet, not by any means.  We still need to reflect, repent, restore, and reconcile.  We still need to be Lenten people.  Fortunately, we know what awaits us at the end: a loving, forgiving, healing God who offers new life to one and all.

I've been on the go since 6 am this morning. Three hundred miles of driving, multiple meetings and an evening engagement. Now, the day has come to an end. I'm ready for bed. But first, it's time for prayer and thanksgiving. Join me in reflecting on the day, thinking of something to which we might give God thanks and praise. P.S. If you received this message after you went to bed, I have good news: this can be done on any day!

Have you ever had one of those days when its just one darned thing after another?  When you feel like your bandwidth has been maxed out?  It's in those moments that we should try to take a step back and pray, to ask God for strength, support, clarity.  It may not be easy, but it can be calming and empowering.  True, prayer won't make all of one's problems go away, but it can make a tremendous different in equipping us to deal with whatever is going on. So, if the question is "Now what?" remember that an important part of the answer is, "prayer!"

It's gray, raw and wet today.  Perfect weather for Lent!  Or is it? Yes, this is a season of high seriousness and purpose, but that need not mean it is one marked by sorrow and depression.  Confronting our shortcomings, reflecting on how we have separated ourselves from God and God's people, may not be easy, indeed may be difficult.  But it should also be a source of peace, and, ultimately, joy.  For is it not a wonderful thing that God has invited us into this season to do this work?  Isn't it amazing that God cares enough to want us to reflect, repent, and renew?  This is indeed Good News!  Which suggests that the perfect weather for Lent might more rightly involve clearing skies and improving conditions.

What are you doing with your "bonus" day?  More of the same?  Something unusual?  True, this leap day is a sleight-of-hand bearing the fingerprints of Roman dictators and long-deceased popes, but the idea of extra time has such appeal.  So ask yourself this question today: you've been blessed with an additional hours in your life span.  What would would you do with that time?  Then ponder these questions: If it's something you wouldn't bother doing otherwise, why waste this gift on something so unimportant to you?  And if it's something you would do otherwise, why aren't you doing it now? Lent, with our without a 29th day in February, is a good time to ask if we're making wise, faithful use of the gifts with which we've been blessed - including the gift of time.

We're close to the mid point of Lent.  How has this season been for you?  I invite you to take stock of your Lenten journey today.  If all is going well, ask why, and then double check to make sure you're not missing something.  Then pray for discernment and God's support and direction.  If things aren't where you'd like them to be, pause, reflect, and chart a new direction.  Then pray for discernment and God's support and direction.  Either way, know that there is still a lot of Lent ahead of us - and yet know that Lent will be over before we know it.  Don't delay: Take stock today!

Have you looked out the window this morning?  If you're in the Upper Valley, you'll see a clear blue sky, everything bathed in brilliant sunlight.  Radiant is the word that comes to mind.  It's not only sunshine that's radiant.  Many things are.  But on this morning, the radiance that comes to mind is that of God's love.  It's a wonderful, grand thing.  And it's a proof of how powerful we humans are. Come again? Think about it: through our actions, our inattention, our, yes, sins, we have the ability to block out the radiant love of God.  That's power!  Of course, it's one we should never, ever want to use.  Alas, we do, usually without thinking. This day, let's resolve to travel a different way.  Let's look out the window, think of God and all God is doing for us and in our lives.  Let's bask in the sunshine.  Let's bask in God's love.

How is it only 9:47 am and I already feel like I've fallen way behind schedule?  If you're like me, you've had days like this.  Maybe you're having one like it just now.  Such times call for triage, the ruthless management of one's schedule to get back on track, to make a semblance of progress before the sun sets.  Alternatively, there is the wisdom offered long ago by a former colleague: "There's nothing you can do today that you can't put off until tomorrow."  Now, you might say, aren't these both ways of choosing to do some things and not others?  You'd be right, of course.  But these are two very different ways of looking at things, of setting priorities.  The first approach is hurried, hastened, and operates from a position of scarcity - we don't have enough time!  The second approach is more relaxed, measured, and is rooted in a position of abundance - we have not only today but tomorrow to do what needs to be done; w

Chip spotted it first as I approached the school.  Perched on a limb, surveying the grounds, was a peregrine falcon.  After Chip got out of the car and made his way into the building for class I drove away to find a better place to park.  The bird sat serenely, watching all about.  It was large, its head especially so.  The falcon radiated presence and command. I was delighted to see something so  majestic at the start of the day.  It was an unexpected encounter with the wild, the created, the other.  It was a reminder of the glories of God's kingdom, a living symbol of God's grace.  This sighting also got me thinking: lf the many things we repent of during Lent, one should be how easily we - I - allow myself to be distracted from grace.  When we do, what a shame - for think of all we might be missing.  Let's focus on what's important, let's be alert.  For when we are, who knows what God will show us ...

Let us confess our sins against God and our neighbor. Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen. Almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us all our sins through our Lord Jesus Christ, strengthen us in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep us in eternal life. Amen. I invite you to read this prayer, taken from the Book of Common Prayer.  Look for the word or phrase that speaks to you, or, even better, challenges you.  Then take some time to reflect on that word and phrase before making it the centerpiece of your own prayer of confession to God.

A confession: I'm not really feeling inspired this morning.  Yes, I could easily bang out some hackneyed reflection for you about grace or perseverance or some such theological concept.  But you, gentle reader, deserve better.  So what to do? Well, there's what I'm doing right now.  I'm just typing, waiting to see what comes out.  Perhaps the Holy Spirit will give me a nudge.  Or perhaps the Holy Spirit will leave me where I am.  And if that's the case, perhaps I should take a moment to look around, to think about the moment, to see if there's a clue or message to be discerned.' For example: perhaps, above, I was too quick to dismiss writing about perseverance.  Sometimes, after all, that's exactly what we have to do.  Perhaps in slogging our way through a fallow moment of prayer, or writing, or discipleship, or faith, we are being given an opportunity to acknowledge that God isn't necessarily looking for peak performance but simply our

Today, not last Monday, is actually the anniversary of George Washington's Birthday.  When I was little we actually celebrated the birthdays of Washington and Lincoln on the actual days on which they were born.  Then in 1971 Congress passed legislation creating Presidents Day, lumping Washington and Lincoln together and, over time, whiling giving a nod to worthies like FDR, Harry Truman, and Ike, also adding lesser lights like Pierce, Fillmore, and Buchanan who have occupied the Oval Office.  When you think about it, we went from honoring two towering individuals to anybody who has ever been elected to our nation's highest office and thus, in a way, to a celebration of the office itself.  Unintentionally, we went from marking achievement and service to power and position. What, you may wonder, has any of this to do with Lent?  Well, all of this arose from something called the Uniform Monday Holiday Act.  The implication of this legislation is that everything needs

Sometimes things sound better in a different language, even a dead one.  Tempus fugit suggests something important, something weighty.  Time flies, on the other hand, sounds a bit breezy.  Frankly, the Latin does a better job of conveying how fleeting our hours on this earth are.  Time does indeed fly by -- and it doesn't travel in a circle, returning to us.  Moments come, moments go.  We're already twelve days into the Lenten season.  I don't know about you, but there are days when I feel like my Lenten journey has barely begun! God gives abundantly but to us.  Of his love, he gives infinitely.  But time is another matter.  I believe that part of our living and dying is a call to be wise stewards of the proverbial four score years we are given on this earth.  Yes, we may go on to some eternal glory after we die, but that does mitigate the preciousness of the gift of life with which we've been blessed.  As best we are able, we should use our days wisely, s

The seventh day of the week was set aside by God as a day of rest.  Our Jewish friends observe Sabbath on Saturday.  We do so on Sunday.  How do you personally celebrate Sabbath?  How do you rest?  How could you do a better job of following God's lead in resting?  Mull over these questions today -- and on each Saturday of Lent.  You might even want to jot down your answers today and each week.  Perhaps your answers will remain unchanged.  Perhaps you will find yourself doing something different.  Just open your heart and mind to the Spirit, and see where it leads you.

Lord, In Your Mercy, Hear Our Prayer. This phrase featured prominently in the book of intercessory prayer I was looking at this morning.  These words, offered in response to an intercession, are a reminder that God hears us out of mercy.  In other words, because he chooses to, without obligation or necessity.  God just does.  Because God wants to.  That's amazing good news, which should be a source of both inspiration (God believes we count!) and humility (God doesn't have to listen to us no matter how noisy, obnoxious, self-entitled, or insistent we become).  And being inspired and being humbled are two gifts that we should receive with gratitude, especially during Lent. So, let us pray for insight, for perspective, for courage, for the faith to set out on a new path, the Way of Jesus, this Lenten season. Lord, in Your Mercy, Hear our Prayer!

From Psalm 113 Give praise, you servants of the LORD; praise the Name of the LORD. Let the Name of the LORD be blessed, from this time forth for evermore. From the rising of the sun to its going down let the Name of the LORD be praised. The LORD is high above all nations, and his glory above the heavens. It's easy to say "praise God."  But what does it mean to praise God as the psalmist suggests we do: with every fiber of our being, for every moment of the day?  What does this kind of investment of faith look like, especially in moments when we might not feel like praising God?  Those times exist - for example, when one is sick or depressed, grappling with loss or a setback.  Lent is a time to ponder these questions.  To help us in our reflection, we might remember that all was not smooth sailing for the psalmist.  We know there are times when he felt lost, abandoned, under threat.  Yet still he calls on us to praise God. So give pr

This morning Chip and I looked at our Journey Through Lent calendar (a copy of which you can still get at church).  We learned that today is the "Feast day of Jonani Luwum, Archbishop of Uganda martyred in 1977."  We were then encouraged to "Pray today for all those who suffer for their faith." My son likes to ask questions.  So soon we were discussing martyrdom - losing one's life due for one's faith - and then quickly found ourselves talking about the Klan, Nazis and other evil people who kill others out of hate, whether for another person's race, beliefs, or religion.  That led to a wide ranging conversation about war, leading to our family's participation in WWII.  Chip can be proud that his grandfather was an Army officer in the Pacific theater and his great uncle was part of the contingent that fought its way across Europe.  But they were not the only relatives of his who were caught up in the maelstrom -- most of my mother's

This week we are living the old saw that if you don't like the weather here in New England, just wait a moment and it will change.  Sometimes, the things, ideas, institutions and even people we rely on remind us of the unpredictable variability highlighted by this saying.  Lent is a good time to refocus on the one thing we know we can count on: God.  It may seem trite, it may seem obvious, but it bears repeating and sharing every day:  God's grace, God's power,  God's mercy, God's justice, God's love are enduring and unfailing. This Lent, let's pray that we not lose sight of this truth.  And let's pray, too, that we in our actions be reminders to others of God's faithful constancy.

I really wanted a cup of coffee this morning.  I thought about that how satisfying a nice cup of joe would be.  But almost immediately I found myself considereding how absolutely pathetic it would be to abandon my Lenten discipline so early in the game.  So I had a cup of hot tea instead.  The tea tasted even better than I expected.  I'm sure a psychologist could explain why.  But I don't need to know why, not really.  What I do need is to give thanks to God for offering this season, with all of its surprises.  You see, Lent isn't about giving up or taking on things so that we may suffer.  It's so that in a time of self-examination prayer, and penitence and we may grow spiritually, in faith, and in our relationship with God.  I'm glad I exercised a little patience, showed a little, well, discipline. 

I Love You! These words will be bandied about with abandon today.  Hopefully, as you hear them or say them, you'll remember that they were first expressed by God, who looked upon his creation and saw that it was good.  John tells us that God so loved the world that he gave his only son for the world's sake.  And later we read in the epistles that not only does God love us but that God is love itself.  Hold onto this truth this day, whoever you are, wherever you are.  God loves you.  Today and everyday.

I was delighted to see that the today's edition of the Wall Street Journal prominently above the fold featured a photograph of Pope Francis and Patriarch Kiril.  Not just because it showed the editors of the Journal recognized the importance of the meeting but because of the smiles of the men pictured.  Here, the leaders of two churches sundered apart almost 1,000 years ago, were sitting down and talking.  While the Western and Eastern churches are not about to set aside all of their ecclesiastical and theological differences, the simple fact that Francis and Kiril is huge, not just as a matter of church history but because of the message it sends to hundreds of millions of their followers and, potentially, to more than 1.3 billion Christians worldwide: our arguments, our pride, our principled differences pale when measured against God's call for healing and reconciliation. This Lent, let us be inspired by these two priests to seek reconciliation in our lives.  Th

In case you didn't notice, it's cold outside today.  Really cold.  To use a dictionary word, gelid.  Welcome to Lent. While I can't say I'm a huge fan of Arctic temperatures, the weather seems appropriate.  How better to appreciate the warmth and sunshine of spring than to bluster one's way through the winter?  So, too, Easter.  If we are to fully embrace the joy of the Resurrection, we must first prepare ourselves through reflection and repentance, as hard as those may sometimes be.  And, as we do so, we should not forget that winter has a majesty of its own.  Think of a snowfield illuminated by crisp sunlight on a brilliant, cloudless day.  It's a dazzling sight.  Reflection and repentance can be sources of strength, power, and glory, too. So put on your gloves, find the muffler, don your warmest hat and head out into the cold -- and into Lent!

Yesterday morning while the temperature was below freezing and snow fell from the sky, I stood in front of the church, ready to distribute ashes to anybody who was interested.  I had a few takers, and also talked about the meaning of ashes and Lent with someone.  I repeated the exercise at noon.  By then the mercury had inched its way up into the mid 30s and the sun began to poke through the clouds.  So, was it worth the effort? Most definitely. Not only was I able to share ashes with a few people, not only was I able to discuss the purpose of Lent, not only was I able to offer a friendly, visible witness on behalf of our church (I waved at people driving by and many replied in kind.  A couple of cars honked and a flatbed tooted its air horn!).  I was able to reflect on the effort that God has made for and on behalf of me. I know that putting up with yours truly has to be far more demanding of the Almighty than my standing in the cold.  And yet God does this for me.  Each

The 2016 N.H. primary is now officially history.  The candidates have moved on.  The volunteers decamped.  Lent 2016, though, is just beginning! During this season there will be no advertising on our TVs or Facebook feeds, no canvassers knocking on the door, no pollsters calling during the dinner hour.  But just as during this now-concluded campaign, we will be asked to make choices.  The options, though, will be different.  For each of us, the answers to the following questions will be  highly personal, not to be found on a predetermined list: How will we use these weeks of preparation?  What will we do to make things right with God and God's people? Where will go to grow closer to God? I invite you to ponder these questions as you embark upon your Lenten journey.