The Mainline Minister

Yesterday was the 27th so I was all primed for my fantasy baseball draft.  I'd done my research and knew who I wanted on my team (whether I'd get them was another issue).  I've been playing in the same league with the same guys for a decade now and draft night is always a lot of fun.  We'll chat online, call one another, catch up, razz each other.  So I settled in at my desk in the parsonage, put out my materials, and logged onto the site.  I was surprised when the countdown clock suggested I had 28 days and so many minutes and seconds to go until the draft. Then I realized the draft was on March 27, not February 27. Oops.  I was so eager to move into this traditional spring/summer/fall pastime that I'd jumped the gun. Jumping the gun is something we can do during Lent, too.  We can be so eager to get to Easter, with its message of new life, that the urge to skip past Lent with all it calls us to do can be irresistible.  But resist we ...

This is the collect of the day from the Episcopal Church's Daily Office.  I invite you to read this prayer; reflect on it, focusing on what it would be like for you, for the world, if this petition were to be answered; then read it again. Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought us in safety to this new day: Preserve us with your mighty power, that we may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all we do, direct us to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Last year a Koren rapper called Psy took cyberspace by storm with his Gangnam Style video.  The song went viral on YouTube (it's apparently the most watched ever post there), earning Psy widespread attention, worldwide celebrity, and even a coveted invitation to the White House.  It was after the latter was issued that Psy's anti-American comments were unearthed.  An apology quickly ensued and the artist was able to appear in DC as planned.  Not surprisingly, some wondered about his sincerity.  Had he retracted his comments from regret or expediency?  We can surmise, but we can never really know. During Lent we take stock of our lives, our actions, our attitudes.  We're called on to repent, to make amends with God for the way we have strayed.  And God need not surmise about our intent; he knows if we're sincere.  The realization that our Maker can discern our deepest thoughts, our darkest secrets, can be unsettling.  But it ...

Another Monday, another work week. Meetings to attend, emails and phone calls to make or return, things to catch up on, the inevitable unwanted surprise.  It's enough to make one want to climb right back into bed and just stay put.  On Monday mornings, avoidance can be ever so enticing. Avoidance as a strategy can have similar appeal during Lent.  Who wants to look at their sins, their failings, their straying from God?  Who wants to spend time figuring out how to set things right?  Who wants to amend behavior?  Staying where we are has its attractions.  But it also has its limits.  We miss out on new possibilities.  We discover that ignored problems and shortcomings will find new ways of manifesting themselves.  What we think of as a safe haven can quickly become a prison. Through its structure, its liturgies, its Scripture lessons, and its rituals, Lent creates a safe space for us to engage with God, and to prepare ourselv...

This morning in church our Call to Worship was adapted from Psalm 27.  This evening I invite you to join me in reading the entire Psalm and reflecting on its theme of assurance, the conviction expressed of God's unfailing, unswerving support.  Reflect -- and give thanks, for the strength the psalmist receives from God is offered also to you and to me.   Psalm 27 27:1 The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? 27:2 When evildoers assail me to devour my flesh-- my adversaries and foes-- they shall stumble and fall. 27:3 Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident. 27:4 One thing I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD, and to inquire in his temple. 27:5 For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he w...

It's an awful feeling, but sometimes we find ourselves feeling empty and bereft, utterly alone.  This may happen because we've lost someone we care about, or an event has transpired, or we've done something or not.  Whatever the reason, the experience is one of desolation; it's like wandering in the desert. Fortunately, Jesus knows what it's like to be in the wilderness and so when he offers us assurance and comfort, we know it will be meaningful and life-affirming.  He offers us the Holy Spirit, which is prepared to enter into us to fill the vacuum, to mend the broken heart, to heal the soul that aches.

It's been a long day, filled with visits and other church commitments.  I'm tired, and, frankly, wasn't feeling motivated to write anything.  Still, here i am.  After all, these reflections are part of a Lenten discipline, not a Lenten hobby.  A discipline takes work, commitment.  It requires that we sometimes do things even if we're not enthusiastic or we're feeling fatigued.  Doesn't sound fun, does it?  Perhaps not.  But it is rewarding.  The effort involved in following a discipline can help us recognize, appreciate, remember and embrace that the truth that real faith is serious work, not something in which we dabble, but a way of being that makes demands on us -- and in turn opens up to us the possibility of new life filled with grace, hope, reconciliation and God's unending, saving love.

I bet that got your attention. What on earth, you ask, do giant lemurs have to do with Lent?  Indeed, you may want to know just what a giant lemur is.  Well, according to my six year old boy, giant lemurs are bigger than gorillas; a baby giant lemur is 100 times the size of a regular lemur and one third the size of a full grown adult giant lemur; they sometimes eat bamboo; and they live as long as humans.  Hopefully, this answers any questions you may have about giant lemurs. "But what about the Lenten-lemur connection?" you ask.  Fair enough. The conversation Chip and I had about giant lemurs this morning was this day's reminder of the wonder and imagination that define the world of children.  It's an attitude and approach that is all too often missing from the adult perspective, which is a shame for so many reasons.  Among those is the way the absence of such a perspective limits our ability to fully live into Lent, the healing it can bring, ...

When I told a clergy colleague about my daily Lenten reflections he asked if I based them on the lectionary.  I told him that while I do that some times, I usually write about whatever happens to inspire me that day.  A newspaper story, the weather, something that's happened.  There's really no rhyme nor reason other than my intent to find something that speaks to or about the Lenten journey.  In short, it's rather random. Randomness is vital to the spiritual life.  By letting things happen, we are stepping back, ceding control.  It's only when we do that that we are able to let the Holy Spirit work in our lives.  And when we do that, we may find ourselves discovering whole new areas of our lives that would benefit from some Lenten attention.  So sit back, let events unfold.  Be random.  Be open to God.

Today was an unusually intense day on the pastoral care front, beginning very early in the morning and running right up to dinner time.  I repeatedly encountered God's grace as I visited and talked and prayed.  I felt blessed to be with the people I was visiting.  But I will confess: at six o'clock in the evening I was bushed.  So, it was Providential that I came home to not only find a hot meal waiting for me but a six year old who wanted to play table hockey.  Pulling the levers, manipulating the players, hitting the puck, cheering and sighing helped put things into perspective.  I experienced an immense surge of gratitude to God for life itself.  Which, of course, brings me to Lent. Lent? Life?  Huh? One of the reasons Lent is so important is that by helping us get things right with God it helps us to not only clear away distractions, not only change direction, not only make amends, it enables us to begin truly enjoying the great ...

I learned this morning that I've won $1,000,000. And, as if that weren't amazing enough, so did Rachel. I kid you not.  We each received identical text messages telling us of our good fortune.  All we needed to do was to respond to the embedded email address. As you might imagine, neither of is any better off financially now than when we awoke this morning.  Replying to that message would have brought many things -- spam, viruses, malware, you name it.  But a million bucks?  Doubtful.  If we want to be millionaires, we're going to have to do it the old fashioned way: work hard. Repentance and amendment of life is like that, too.  It might be comforting to think all we have to do is say "I'm sorry, God," and that all will be well.  It wouldn't be healing, though.  Once we say we're sorry, we need to work on changing our ways.  We need to begin to travel the path that Jesus has shown us.  We need to allow ourselves to be ...

Assurance During this season of Lent we are called to reflect on our lives, what we have done and what we have left undone.  This can be hard work--tiring, draining, even isolating.  As we consider our sins, and we all have committed them, we can begin to wonder what God would want to have to do with us.  Psalm 91, today's appointed lectionary reading from the Psalter, offers comfort and assurance that come what may, the Lord will be with you, with me, with us all.  Though we'll read responsively verses 1-2 and 9-16 of this text at worship today, I invite and encourage you to read these words on your own, to meditate on them, to take them into your heart, and to let them enter into your soul. Psalm 91 You who live in the shelter of the Most High,    who abide in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the Lord , ‘My refuge and my fortress;    my God, in whom I trust.’ For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler ...

As I look out my study window I see a landscape colored by various shades of leaden gray and dull brown.  Things seem listless, flat.  I know in my head that the clouds will pass, that at some point in the future the sun will shine forth, but my soul remains troubled and unsettled.  Though I want to hold fast to the promise of what the future holds, I feel mired in the present moment. Thank God for Lent. Lent, often depicted as the downer season of the liturgical year, can, indeed should, take us to some dark places.  After all, during this time we're meant to look honestly and unflinchingly at our lives, to repent, and return to God.  That's much easier said than done.  Indeed, there's a reason we do this year after year after year.  Because we need to - because we need chance after chance after chance. Thankfully, we are promised that after we travel through the shadows of pain and remorse, we will arrive somewhere bathed in the pure lig...

Though Ash Wednesday is now behind us, Lent doesn't quite feel real yet.  It's like spring; it may begin in late March, but snow on the ground and cold temperatures can make us feel as if we are still in the midst of winter.  A new season may have started but we still seem to living in the old one. We shouldn't be fooled. The new day has arrived, even if we can't recognize it.  A new thing is being done, even if we can't describe it.  We just need to be patient.  If we give Lent time, we'll be able to see just how real it is, how God is calling us to draw near and begin our lives anew, to set aside our sin and fears and anxieties in favor of faithfulness and hope and peace. Not quite real?  Wrong.  It's as real as it gets.  Open yourself to God's healing spirit this season and you'll see.

According to a story on WMUR's website, NH is the second least religious state in the nation, outranked only by our neighbor, Vermont.  Three other New England states -- Maine, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island -- round out the top five.  Whereas 58% of people in Mississippi identify themselves as being religious, just 24% do in the Granite State (and 19% in the Green Mountain state). These statistics are a stark reminder that what we once called Christendom is now part of history.  A society whose rhythms are defined by Christian faith, particular of the Protestant variety, is a thing of the past.  Now, we inhabit a secular world.  This can make being a Christian challenging.  We're sometimes seen as outsiders, even oddballs.  Perhaps this is dispiriting.  But it should also be liberating for it gives us more room to be the people God calls us to be and not those our culture says we should be.  Lent, this season of preparation, re...