e-piphanies

It's all about relationships.

Earlier in the week, the Ten Commandments came up in a conversation with a couple of other people. One of them said, “For some, Christianity seems to be a list of rules to obey.” I think he’s right. There are those who view Christianity that way.

But for me, Christianity is first and foremost about relationships – with God, with others, and with my own spiritual being. The “rules” God gives us are intended to help us cherish, protect, and sustain those relationships. Following the “rules” don’t make us worthy of our relationships; they help us abide in them.

For starters, God invites us into relationship not because we are worthy, but because God is worthy. And God always takes the first step, even when we falter. In the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32), after the son wakes up to his own prodigal reality, he rehearses a speech that he hopes will convince his father to accept him back into the household just as a hired hand. When the father sees him coming toward home, he runs out to meet him. And before a word comes out of the son’s mouth, the father embraces him and restores him to his place in the household as a son and not a servant. Our relationship with God is grounded in God’s worthiness and not our own. The rules God gives us are to hold us close in that relationship as God's beloved daughters and sons.

Our relationships with others are healthiest when we place the worth of the other ahead of our own. Jesus demonstrated that in his life, death, and resurrection for us. St. Paul summed it up when he wrote, “God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). The heart of the Paschal Mystery is that Jesus Christ overcame death for our sake. Before we even knew there were any rules to follow, he deemed us worthy to act on our behalf. But it is the Savior’s worth and not our own that makes it possible for us to live in him. He calls us again and again to love others the way he loves us.

And, it is vital to our spiritual well-being that we be mindful of our soul’s progress throughout life and aware of how all other relationships affect our inner being. Because we live in a material world, it is easy to forget that we are, first and foremost, spiritual beings. Things often block progress on the spiritual journey. Some people bring good into our lives. Others have a harmful or hurtful influence. There are spiritual disciplines and rules of life that help us be mindful and to monitor the soul’s well-being.

To couch my point in sacramental terms, the inward and spiritual needs to be expressed in the outward and visible. It is the relationship that drives the behavior. Because I value the relationships, I strive to act in ways that sustain them.

I love my wife and I will never forget that she loved me first. Some important rules have been helpful in strengthening the bonds of our marriage for fifty-two years. But following those rules grows out of the deep love and respect we have for one another. The rules don’t make us love one another. It is our love that gives the rules their purpose.

Our parents taught us not to play in traffic because, before we knew it was dangerous, they loved us enough to give us that and other rules that protect us from physical harm. We teach our children to brush their teeth and other rules because we love them and want them to take care of their health. We follow COVID protocols in an attempt to live out the Great Commandment, loving others as well as ourselves. The Church commends spiritual disciplines because Jesus loved us enough to create the Church for that purpose.

The Godly Play Curriculum for children speaks of the Ten Commandments as “The Ten Best Ways to Live.” I like that. Because God loves us so much, God has provided these and many other ways to live in a sacred relationship with our Creator, with those around us, and with our own true self. The purpose of the rules is always about relationships.

Blessings,

 

 

 

 

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

How is it with your soul?

A friend said to me the other day, “Maybe it’s just me, but 2021 is beginning to look a lot like 2020.” He’s right; it kind of is, isn’t it? An impeachment trial in the Senate, more pandemic, challenges of trying to get everybody vaccinated, brutally cold weather, a breakdown in the Texas power grid, loss of water pressure, and more. Surprises, disappointments, inconvenience, unfamiliar emotional terrain, and rising anxiety levels as we wonder what’s next. It’s enough to try one’s soul.

How is it with your soul? The Season of Lent calls us to grapple with that question every year, but this year it has a different intensity. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe the mounting pressures can move us to seek the help we need for the care of our souls. Maybe we will be more intentional in taking advantage of the spiritual disciplines of self-examination, repentance, prayer, fasting, self-denial, and reading and meditating on God’s holy Word. Maybe we’ll read the daily Lenten Reflections that members of our parish have shared with us.

If our faith teaches us anything, it teaches us that our God is the gracious Lover of our souls who will never leave or forsake us. In fact, that is the one thing that can never be taken away from us, no matter how bad things may be. In Baptism, we are “marked as Christ’s own for ever.”

The familiar hymn It is Well With My Soul was written after traumatic events in the life of Horatio Spafford. The first two were the death of his four-year-old son and the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, which ruined him financially. His business interests were further hit by the economic downturn of 1873, at which time he had planned to travel to England with his family on the SS Ville du Havre. In a late change of plan, he sent the family ahead while he was delayed on business. While crossing the Atlantic, the ship sank rapidly after a collision with a sea vessel, the Loch Earn. All four of Spafford's daughters perished. His wife Anna survived. Shortly afterwards, as Spafford traveled to meet his grieving wife, he was inspired to write these words when his ship passed near where his daughters had died. Phillip Bliss composed the tune for the hymn and called it Ville du Havre, from the name of the stricken vessel.

The series of tragedies could have broken Spafford. By God's grace, he dealt with the question, "How is it with your soul." The outcome was his echo of the response of the Shunammite woman in her encounter with the prophet Elijah, "It is well." Moreover, the hymn he wrote about the experience has brought reassurance and peace to countless souls for a century and a half.

So, I ask again, how is it with your soul? Seize the opportunity Lent provides to grapple with that question. Observe the Lenten disciplines. Your clergy are always available to help, as are members of the parish who have emerged from their own experiences with renewed spiritual health.

Blessings,

 

 

 

 

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

 

Getting Ready for Lent

Next Wednesday, we will begin our annual observance of the Season of Lent. Lent is a time for engaging our new life in Christ more deeply, risking new levels of trust. The purpose of Lent is not to dwell on suffering, or to spend forty days bewailing our manifold sins and wickedness for the sake of feeling our pain. Lent is about engaging in the ongoing process of renewal, regeneration, and new birth; it is about encouraging us to trust and to risk going forth and being sent out with the promise of new life.

Lent may require us to “think outside the box” of piety and religiosity, just as Abram and Sarai had to break with their past, and Saul and Nicodemus the Pharisees with theirs. The promises of God bear not only upon the future of our individual lives in relationship to God, but also upon the future of our parish, our diocese, and our Church as a whole.

To respond to the promise for new life means we have to be ready to redraw and rename the places on the journey. When the ancient ones told the story of Abram and Sarai, they were also inscribing new place names and creating a new social geography on the territories of their migrations in company with God.

God may be inviting us to rethink how we do Church in light of the socio-geographies of the times we live in. When Saul the Pharisee became Paul the Apostle as we know him, he brought new words, images, and new community structures into being, “calling into existence things which do not exist,” by trustfully following Jesus into new life.

Lent is for listening to that call in our own lives. In the words of James Russell Lowell, “New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth.” Lent is for careful thinking about how to step into the as-yet-unmapped future, to deepen our relationship to God, to trust the picture of new life in Christ, and for identifying the breaks with the past that we need to make in order to respond to the promises of God.

I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word.

Blessings,

 

 

 

 

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

What Moves You?

Mark uses miracle stories in his gospel to illustrate a point the way Matthew and Luke use parables for that purpose in theirs. Jesus’ cleansing of a leper as recorded in Mark 1:40-45 is an example.

A man who was afflicted with leprosy confronted Jesus. The leper broke the code of ceremonial cleanliness just by speaking to Jesus. It was a very bold thing to do. Here is one who is considered unclean and wretched by his people because he has contracted a hideous disease. Leprosy represented sin to the people of Jesus’ day and, like sin, it was considered contagious, more to be cleansed than healed. 

A leper was banished from the community and had to dwell alone or with other lepers outside the community. This man had to go about with torn clothes, bared head, and a covering upon his upper lip. As he went, he was required to give warning of his polluted presence with the cry, “Unclean! Unclean!” The leper had not only to bear the physical pain of his disease, he had to bear the mental anguish and heartbreak of being completely banished from human society and totally shunned. So, it is incredible that he would approach Jesus at all, let alone dare to speak to him.

Even more remarkable than that is the fact that Jesus responded to him as he did. He could have run away. He could have had the leper killed. He could have reacted with horror. But he didn’t. Instead, we are told in the story that his response was one of compassion and understanding. Jesus was “moved with pity.” He broke the code and defiled himself when he reached out and touched the leper. In so doing, his power over evil was demonstrated by a miraculous cure. He broke the law and, at the same time, he fulfilled it.

Then he sent the man to the priest and in so doing placed before the religious establishment a difficult problem. Only the priest could certify the cure. To reject it would be to break the code. To accept it would be to acknowledge Jesus’ power and authority. To make matters even worse, this cleansed leper couldn’t keep all of this to himself, even though Jesus had asked him to. Is it any surprise?

In this miracle story, we see that it was Jesus’ nature to be moved by the sight of human need. But sympathy isn’t worth a dime unless it leads to action. Jesus was first moved to pity, then to action. He continues to be moved to compassion and he still reaches out and touches those in need of help. People who have experienced this compassionate power find themselves moved. They become enthusiastic about life and they glorify God in whatever they do.

I’ve always enjoyed the movie Bad News Bears. In it, there is a character named Lupus. Lupus is a little boy who had a runny nose all the time and was smaller than the others. He had learned to stay in the background because that’s where everyone else told him he belonged. One day, some boys on another team put ketchup in his hat and slapped it back on his head. One of his teammates took both of them on in defense of Lupus. He lost the fight, but afterwards, Lupus said to him, “You’re the first person who ever took up for me.” A short time later, the coach sent Lupus in to play during the championship game and he actually caught a fly ball. Nothing could ever stop Lupus again because someone finally believed in him. That gave him the courage to get out of the background and take his God-given place as a full-fledged member of the team.

Like the story of the cleansing of the leper, the story of Lupus is a miracle story. It tells us what can happen on an infinitely greater plane when Jesus Christ touches a human life. His touch tells us that he believes in us and when we know that touch, we’ll never be the same. We’ll have a new perspective on life, a new confidence in ourselves, and a new ability to reach out to others, especially those who have been pushed into the background, marginalized, and condemned.

Today is a good day to keep my eyes open to watch for a miracle. Today is a good day to experience a miracle for myself. Today is a good day to help a miracle happen for someone else. God, let me live today in miraculous expectation!

Blessings,

 

 

 

 

The Very Reverend Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas