Ps 62     Luke 8:1-15

“ … A sower went out to sow his seed; and as he sowed, some fell on the path and was trampled on, and the birds of the air ate it up.  Some fell on the rock; and as it grew up, it withered for lack of moisture.  Some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew with it and choked it.  Some fell into good soil, and when it grew, it produced a hundredfold … “  from Luke 8:1-15

There is a poem by Barbara Pescan called “Eastering”
     Why this sadness toward spring?
     Half smiles at the first yellow flowers,
     Tears pooling for no reason with each rain and sunset?

     Each year this green show
     blows wide winter’s coverings and lets us see
     The swell and push of beginning again.

     Am I meant to rise too?
     To push away what leans against the door of my
            pinched heart?

     I cannot.
            Compassion for myself
            is a slow growing crop,
            however carefully tended
            it yields an unreliable harvest.

     These resurrections
     ask more than I can give
     every time
     this hurts more
     than the pains of my body
     than the old world full of sorrows
     this offering of love
     this unbearable gift of another chance.

A line in this poem particularly lodges in my mind … “Compassion for myself is a slow growing crop.”  I’m from Iowa (that’s where the tall corn grows, as the song has it) and while I didn’t grow up on a farm, one didn’t have to drive much past the outskirts of Muscatine to gaze upon acre after acre of corn and soybeans rising from the rich black soil.  As an Iowa girl, I knew that it was a precarious combination of nourishing enough soil, the farmer’s almost ceaseless toil, and the vicissitudes of nature – too much rain, not enough rain, unexpected freeze, savage tornado – which yielded a bountiful or barren harvest.

And so I often think of myself as one of the elements in that combination that spoils the crop – sometimes I’m the soil that’s too stony and infertile for any seed of love or kindness to take root; sometimes I’m the farmer who’s too lazy or careless to work for her harvest, and starves because of it; and sometimes I’m the sudden raging, monstrous whirlwind or torrent that uproots the carefully tended fields and leaves only destruction in its wake.

This parable that Jesus tells in the gospel of Luke concludes “But as for that [seed] in the good soil, these are the ones who, when they hear the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patient endurance.”  With the love of God and one another, may we each find that balance of nourishing soil, willing labor and sustaining, compassionate nature.  May we each bring in a bountiful harvest.

                                                            Joyce Courtois

Ps 58         Luke 7:36-50

Luke 7:36-50 (NRSV)

35 Nevertheless, wisdom is vindicated by all her children." 36 One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee's house and took his place at the table. 37 And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. 38 She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. 39 Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner." 40 Jesus spoke up and said to him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." "Teacher," he replied, "speak." 41 "A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he canceled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?" 43 Simon answered, "I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt." And Jesus said to him, "You have judged rightly." 44Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet.46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47 Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little." 48 Then he said to her, "Your sins are forgiven." 49 But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, "Who is this who even forgives sins?" 50 And he said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."

Ps 24         Matt 7:7-14

Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life,  and only a few find it.  Matthew 7: 13-14

Lift up your heads, you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.    Psalm 24:7

As I sat down to reflect on these two passages from Psalms and Matthew I was reminded by my partner that I forgot to close the garage door. Again. The irony and timing of his reminder was not lost on me as I had just started thinking about the symbolism and hidden meanings of doors, gates and paths (roads).  I’ve always been prone to leave doors open - front doors, back doors, and admittedly, garage doors.

            Doors and gates figure prominently in many of our sacred stories and texts. From our first sacred story of Adam and Eve and the Gate to Paradise to the final pages of Revelation, gates and doors symbolize entering in, transitions, movement, separation, power, freedom, hope, opportunity and invitation.  In John, Jesus says “I am the gate,” and in Luke the Rabbi instructs us to “enter through the narrow door.” In other passages Jesus says he is “the door.” 

            Doors, gates and paths are also part of our daily lexicon and used by artists, writers, and lyricists. We often speak of doors being opened and shut, revolving doors, getting a foot in the door, and “Katie bar the door.” Gates often symbolize the beginning (“at the starting gate”) and end (“get the gate”).  When running late, we often “hit the road”. In the verses from Matthew I notice that gate is used before road, and that may suggest that gates mark the entrances onto roads we choose.

         In contrast to the narrow and broad roads referred to in Matthew, I am reminded of the two equally leafy paths in Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken”. In contrast to the passage in Matthew, there are two equally leafy paths to consider and not a path that leads to destruction and another that leads to life. For me, this poem is infused with the anticipation of remorse. Even as he makes a choice the speaker knows that he will second-guess himself at some point in the future. At the very least he will wonder at what is irrevocably lost: the impossible, unknowable other path. But the nature of the decision is such that there is no right path—just the chosen path and the other path. The ironic tone is inescapable: “I shall be telling this with a sigh / Somewhere ages and ages hence.” The speaker anticipates his own future insincerity—his need, later on in life, to rearrange the facts.

            As I think back to the literal and figurative doors, gates and roads of my life, I am reminded of the screen door at the back of my paternal grandparents’ home (it was always open) and the worn path leading from my childhood home to their back door and kitchen. I remember the many swing gates and cattle grids on the farm of my maternal grandparents, and I think back to the long, shale-covered driveway of my childhood on which I learned to ride a bicycle. I am also reminded of the many doors that have been opened for me and for a few doors that I have chosen to break down. I would like to think that my propensity for leaving doors open comes from trust and confidence as opposed to forgetfulness – maybe it is a little of both. For me, however, the paths I choose are more important than the doors and gates I walk through.

In “Thanks, Robert Frost” David Ray writes

Do you have hope for the future?
someone asked Robert Frost, toward the end.
Yes, and even for the past, he replied,
that it will turn out to have been all right
for what it was, something we can accept,
mistakes made by the selves we had to be,
not able to be, perhaps, what we wished,
or what looking back half the time it seems



we could so easily have been, or ought...
The future, yes, and even for the past,
that it will become something we can bear.

Faith is a tricky concept. It means different things to different people. To me, faith is meant to comfort; something to look towards. It is a crutch that helps you to keep going. It motivates and inspires. It gives strength and courage. Sometimes your faith will waver but it will always forgive. It will always be there for you. When you’re feeling down, look to your faith to pick you up. When you’re happy, thank your God.
 
                                                                                    Alexa Daggett

Ps 40       Luke 7:1-17

Psalm 40: 1-3

I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.

To me, Easter is always a joyous time.  I remember images from my childhood, many from photographs my father took.  Three little girls, hair neatly combed, new dresses and white shoes – one trying to look sophisticated, one looking down at the hamster in her hands, another looking straight at the camera, smiling as big as possible.  Their new dresses fitting perfectly and the skirts standing out with numerous petticoats; their hair curled and combed by their mother, who spent the evening before securing their pincurls with bobby pins.

Until I was twelve, the Easter bunny (Daddy in his bathrobe) visited our yard and hid eggs.  Even after we were all too old not to know the truth, we required this enactment, and Daddy played along.

As an adult, nature plays a bigger part in my Easter excitement.  Flowering peach trees, budding flowers, planting seeds in anticipation of giant sunflowers and spicy nasturtium blossoms to put in a salad.  My grandparents’ gardens were always a thing of beauty – purple irises and azaleas in pink and white.  My garden is raggedy and disorganized, but the spring brings me back to memories of those special times.

As a child, I think I was pretty self-confident, feeling loved and secure.  But as an adult, I am less so.  In my times of sadness thinking of the special time shared with my parents and grandparents, I do agree with the Psalmist – I can be pulled out of my desolation and feel my feet set upon firm ground through prayer, meditation, and thankfulness.

                                                            Jeannette Dixon    

Ps 114      Luke 6:39-49



Silk screen by Ilona Staples

Crossing the Return Threshold

Tremble, O earth, at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob, who turns the rock into a pool of water, the flint into a spring of water.

What if God language is not a matter of belief, but a decision to use symbols to point to profound experience?

My last day of work had come after decades of designing software for the Space Shuttle. My desk was cleaned out, my personal belongings boxed up in the car. I walked across the street for the final exit process. I entered a room with a circle of tables manned by human resources staff who themselves would soon be leaving the United Space Alliance.

My badge dangled from my neck. On it was my picture, the name of my company, and a magnetic stripe that gave me access to my office, the buildings, and NASA’s computers. If there was a single symbol informing me of who I was, it was dangling from my neck

The sea looked and fled, Jordan turned back. The mountains skipped like rams, the hills like lambs

I took the badge from my neck and gave it away. The building’s walls fell around me, and I walked out. I was disoriented. It was as though a giant flood had washed the entire shuttle complex down the rapidly receding river.

I felt the air moving in and out of my lungs. I stood for a moment with the sun on my face. Everything is utterly and completely transient. What a glorious mystery is this strange existence! Ahead I saw a pool of spring water. I headed towards it.

-Tim Wegner

Ps 53        Luke 6:27-38

Wisdom in Absurdity

The opening of the Luke passage is almost comical:  the pairing of Jesus’s oft quoted instruction to “turn the other cheek” with the instruction to offer our shirt when someone takes our coat begins to sound like advice to become accomplices in our own assault and robbery:  “Here, let me help you with that…”  Jesus is not advising us to be pushovers or patsies, as a surface reading might lead us to believe.  He is wielding one of the most powerful tools of every mystical tradition:  absurdity.  Approaching truth with an appreciation for the absurd helps us to rebuff the efforts of the world around us to topple our hard-won understanding.  “Turning the other cheek” has always been one the most difficult of Jesus’s commandments.  If we are defiant in turning the other cheek, our intention might be to shame our aggressor into stopping the wanton act of violence.  But shame is not the core of Jesus’s teaching.  Cloaked in the absurdity of this passage is the revelation that empathy is the key to conflict resolution.  As we seek to understand our enemies and aggressors, we grow closer to them:  What was the injury that led the aggressor to raise the hand?   What neglected need led the thief to steal the cloak?  If we fail to rise above the melee whipped up by further injury and reaction, then we are doomed to be embroiled in it indefinitely.

The Psalm laments that the world is filled with fools and evildoers.  This contrasts strikingly with Jesus’s message, which says that if we love our enemies, they will cease to be enemies.  Jesus’s message is that “abominable acts” and “ungodly” ways can be destroyed by our persistence in practicing generosity and blessing.  Held as an absolute or an ideal, turning the other cheek is next to impossible, for it leads to self-abnegation and ultimately self-annihilation.  Instead, let us see it as an ideal to which we should aspire, one that will inspire us to respond to injury and selfishness with their ideological opposites, healing, love, and giving.   To be people of God, to be the best we know how to be, is not about judgment and absolutes, but about seeking the path of reconciliation.  “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

                                                                        Eric Avera

Ps 47       Luke 6:12-26

Jesus Handed Over

“One of those days Jesus went out to a mountainside to pray, and spent the night praying to God. when morning came, he called his disciples to him and chose twelve of them, whom he also designated apostles: Simon (whom he named Peter), his brother Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James son of Alphaeus, Simon who was called the Zealot, Judas son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.” (Luke 6:12 – 20, NIV)

Judas is the most infamous of traitors; and his name is spoken with distaste and bitterness. Luke tells us that Jesus knew, even as he called Judas Iscariot to become his apostle, that the man would betray him. The gospels present various stories of Judas’s “betrayal,” and they are all negative, some more than others. Yet, I wonder (as have many others) why Judas must be so universally condemned. After all, Judas was a key player in God’s plan for Jesus’ life and death. Wasn’t he just carrying out the will of God?

The story of Judas is problematic among scholars. John Shelby Spong indicates that “the act of betrayal by a member of the twelve disciples is not found in the earliest Christian writings” (The Sins of Scripture). Spong argues instead that when the early writers wanted to distance themselves from the Roman state, the story of Judas was contrived, making Judas a stand-in for the Jewish state, the character who betrayed Jesus to the Romans. Spong’s argument is more complicated than this, but this is the gist of it.

Another scholar, Gary Green, examines the word ‘paradidomi.’ Its primary meaning, he tells us, is “to give or hand over to another”; “to betray” is a secondary meaning. Because Judas is not named as a traitor in the earliest Christian writings, Green and New Testament scholar William Klassen posit that perhaps Judas is responsible for handing over Jesus to authorities, but Judas was not thought of as a traitor in the first century.

Even in Paul’s letters, Paul only uses the word ‘paradedeto,’ a form of ‘paradidomi,’ once, in reference to the night of the Last Supper, as the night that Jesus was handed over. Yet there is no indication that Paul understood Judas to be a traitor. Again, the argument is more complex, but Green concludes that Judas may have been involved in negotiations for Jesus, to ensure that Jesus’s followers did not disrupt the Passover festivals. Judas did not “betray” Jesus, according to these scholars.

An even more disturbing idea about Judas lies in Spong’s conclusion—that in Judas’s story, we find the roots of anti-Semitism. If this is true, then what place does Judas’s story have in Christianity?  Judas has been hated, he has been reviled, for centuries. But in considering the doubts that modern scholars put forth about the conventional Judas, I have to ask, he has suffered long enough, hasn’t he?

“Though those that are betray’d /Do feel the treason sharply yet the traitor / Stands in worse case of woe” (Shakespeare, Cymbeline)

                                                                        Rebecca Spears

Ps 52      Luke 6:1-11

And Then…Wild Flowers Utter devastation. That is what happened when Hurricane Fran dealt a direct hit on Raleigh in September of 1996. For Raleigh, the City of Oaks, Fran caused unprecedented destruction. We were unfamiliar with the scale although the tornado of 1989 gave us plenty of feel for what nature could wreak.

Nature and life can do other things as well. A good friend related a story to me in late spring of 1997 about one such act of nature. We were mourning the many trees that were lost and quite incredulous that dump trucks were still – nine months later – carting away tree-debris to one of the designated sites. He related what a friend had noticed…recognized. His friend had been hiking through familiar woods where Fran had felled many a majestic tree. His friend became aware with delight that he was seeing many more wild flowers than before in these same woods. Although losing the trees was a genuine injury, it was followed by new life – extravagant rebirth!

About the time my friend told me this story, I was embarking into an unknown. I had resigned from a company after twelve years, deciding to take some time off to see where life would lead. I claimed the story of the wild flowers for my journey. The tree – my long-familiar job – had been felled. Now, what wild flowers would grow in its place? As it turned out, many grew and others keep gracing me along my way. Extravagant rebirth! I shudder, now almost eight years hence, to think of the wild flowers I would have missed had it not been for the felling of my “tree.”

On the occasion of the most grand of my wild flowers blooming – marriage to my wife, Ruth –  our minister, Ted Purcell quoting another said, “Hope is still alive. Despair is presumptuous; it hasn’t all happened yet.” It is hard when we are in the moment of despair to have hope or remember that our story is not over. Yet it’s important to say with the psalmist, “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” And to let the writer of Hebrews encourage us with, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Then, our story not being over yet, we can one day soon wake up to the surprise of extravagant rebirth…the wild flowers of life!

                                                            Meditation by Steve Braun

Ps 63      Matt 7:15-29

This is a long selection that merits considerable comment; but the initial verse, “Be on the lookout for false prophets”, is relevant for the Eastertide consideration. Jesus was a Jewish mystic and a true prophet in the full meaning of that word. The various writers & compilers of our scriptures often cited, as heroes, their prophets! A “prophet” is NOT a forth teller, but a teller forth! This is generally one who is at odds with, and takes issue with, the status quo. And in Jesus’ time the status quo was like the status quo of almost every political system. They represent the “power structure” wherein the wealth is often concentrated, and where reverence for the individual takes a back seat in order to protect the existing system. That often includes the religious institutions as well. That was Jesus’ Rome! It was in the week before his crucifixion that he mocked the returning victorious soldiers seated on their steeds, by riding onto the scene on a borrowed donkey! And he had just overturned the money changers in the temple, because they had become pawns of Rome. These acts delighted the crowd, but upset the bureaucrats. He called for compassion and justice for the masses; not acts of war or empire building. His trial and fate were inevitable. The words and deeds of that Jewish mystic prophet of 2000 years ago are worth heeding still. As individuals, and as a church, we must be willing to ferret out Jesus’ teachings, apply them to our-selves, our church and to our world, and be willing to accept the cost of such discipleship; if we are persuaded by his prophetic leadership. 

                                                            V.A.M.