Some Sundays, the readings are a delight to explore, research, and wonder about. On others, the puzzle seems too hard, especially when the Gospel includes a parable, like today. The parable of the shrewd manager left me perplexed the first few times I read it, and there is little commentary in the many bible versions I use to research. So I will circle back to it in a bit, but for now, let’s enjoy the simplicity of Paul’s message to Timothy.

“First of all I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity.”

Take a deep breath because today’s readings are far from quiet and peaceable. In fact, Jeremiah’s experience is anguish over the exile and suffering of his people: “My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick.” His words resonated deeply with me as I read them again and again this week. With all the unrest and suffering in the world around us, my heart aches, and I am longing for a quiet and peaceable life. I want to close my doors and shut out the world and all its turmoil. And yet my awareness of this turmoil and my relationship with God means I cannot.

I could easily relate to Jeremiah, who was separated from his people and yet identified with their pain. He knows they have provoked God’s anger, and yet he weeps for them. Jeremiah lived with a deep awareness of God’s love and grieved for those who did not, regardless of their actions.

Jeremiah’s grief is a prophetic activity; his tears are the prelude to an openness to new possibilities.

A quiet, peaceable life is not the experience of our psalmist either, as angry complaints pour out

“Look at what they have done.

Pour out your wrath upon the heathen!

But, God remember not our past sins;

let your compassion be swift to meet us.”

The psalmist has a different outlook than Jeremiah. Heathens are heathens, the faithful are the faithful, and the differences between them are outlined clearly. Those who know God deserve God’s mercy, and those who do not know him deserve his wrath.

How did we come to this in a world where a loving God created everyone?

In our children’s Godly Play program this week, we told the second story of creation found in chapter 2 of Genesis. I wasn’t supposed to be the storyteller. Still, in my absent-minded calendar-keeping, a serendipitous moment occurred because the beauty of this creation story made today’s scriptures clearer to me.

God created everything in love, and it was good.

He placed the first person in the garden, who was Adam, which means “everyone.” Eve was with Adam and part of Adam; they were together like one person, Adam-Eve. Adam-Eve was together with the garden and with God.

There were two mysterious trees in the garden. One was the tree of knowledge. If you ate the fruit from this tree, you would begin to notice differences like the difference between good and evil and up and down. The other was the tree of life. If you ate the fruit from the tree of life, you would live forever.

God told Adam-Eve not to eat from the tree of knowledge.

Of all the creatures in the garden, the serpent was the cleverest. The serpent convinced Adam-Eve to eat from the tree of knowledge and they did.

And everything fell apart. Adam-Eve became Adam and Eve.

And they began to notice the differences like the differences between close and far, Adam and Eve, high and low, people and God, good and evil, near and far.

God looked for them, and they hid.

They no longer knew how to be close to God or each other as they had been before.

They longed to return to the way things were, but they could not; they could only move forward. God placed a flaming sword and a fierce angel at the edge of the garden so they could not go back and eat from the tree of forever.

They came from dust and would return to dust. But God gave them a gift when things fell apart. They could now take the differences they saw and put them together in new ways. They could not make something from nothing like God, but they could sometimes make something good from what they now knew and what they remembered from the love in God’s garden. God was with them always, and he is always with us.

It is not likely that it was Adam-Eve’s intention to separate from each other and cause creation to fall apart when they chose this course of action.

But here we are in a world clearly full of differences, wondering how to move forward and how to create something new from what we see.

Can we return to a quiet, peaceful life that includes everyone?

As I revisit our parable in Luke. I return to trying to puzzle it out.

What is it trying to tell us? Is it good to be shrewd?

When the manager was let go from his position due to his behavior, he chose, in self-preservation, to cut a deal.

Mosaic law prohibits collecting interest from fellow Jews. It is speculated that the manager had originally been overcharging as a means of circumventing this law. And commentators suggest that to win the favor of those indebted to the master, he simply removed the interest.

This clever move ingratiated him with those in debt and also with his master, as he created a reputation of generosity for the master.

The shrewd manager took a financial mess and made something new.

Inadvertently, he made things better for everyone. Now, we cannot really commend him on this because it appears to be purely motivated by selfishness. But we cannot really make him the villain either.

The manager may have helped others for entirely selfish reasons, but he helped them nonetheless.

We cannot villainize the serpent for being in the garden, because God created the garden and everything in it, including the clever serpent.

We cannot decide that Adam and Eve are villains either, even though they made a decision that caused division and all of creation to fall apart.

We cannot villainize the master or the manager because of their role in life, any more than we can villainize Jesus’ friend Judas.

Judas, like Adam and Eve, teaches us about differences. The difference between leaning into love and pulling away from it.

We often think of the good as being first because in our story of the garden, it is.

But we don’t live in the garden, and what if shrewdness, self-serving, and survival came first and was all that was known to us until now?

What if this is the first time we can see the differences from the other side, and now we can choose something new?

The life we are born into and the life we live both affect our ability to see the beauty of holiness and feel the touch of love.

Our psalmist doesn’t sound like he is feeling the loving touch of God. He wants justice. He is pleading with God while still holding onto the differences. He is not ready for the healing that can come from creating something new.

Jeremiah, with his heart broken wide open, holds truth, without blame, grieves a societal disaster, and pleads for healing.

He would weep all day long, a fountain of tears, for those who have fallen apart.

I am still quite puzzled by the parable told today. The message will take some more sorting out for me. But that is the nature and beauty of the parable of Jesus.

And, I don’t need to understand it all at once.

I believe that though we may not be able to return to the quiet, peaceable life of innocence, we can move forward in godliness and dignity as we remember to pray.

Like Jeremiah, we can remember that God does not abandon us because of our mistakes, and we can choose not to abandon others because of theirs. We can let our hearts be torn open for all who are suffering and pray.

We can learn from the psalmist to give our anger over to God, and let go of our desire to hold onto differences and pray.

Pray for our leaders both in our country and the world.

Pray for our neighbors and friends who are exiled from their homes and separated from a quiet and peaceable life.

And when opportunity arises to ease the burden of others, we can be both shrewd and a child of the light.

May we find within us a quiet and peaceable life as we seek to bring peace to others in the midst of our differences.

And may we remember…

There is one God;

There is also one mediator between God and humankind,

Christ Jesus, himself human,

who gave himself a ransom for all.

Amen.

Participation in the Presence

The Trinity is a mystery. It is a mystery that we cannot hurry to solve or seek to understand quickly.

Peace be with you

I have never been one to focus on or talk much about politics. Lately, however, whenever I am gathered with like minded friends, the conversation seems to lean in that direction. Worry, concern, and even fear are at the very center of whatever topic has erupted out of the daily news.

Have you heard this? Did you read about that? Do you understand what is happening in our county, the country, the world? What could all this be leading to? What are we to do?

Much like these gatherings with my friends, the apostles have gathered together, close friends with enough worry and concern, to retreat behind locked doors to a place where they could openly and honestly discuss what was on their minds.

Their whole world has been shattered, and they are trying to sort out the events of the past weeks and prepare for what may be coming in the days ahead. Filled with fear, the room must have been highly charged with anxious energy.

I want you to imagine the moment before Jesus walked in. The energy in the space as words of worry and fear are exchanged. Think about the things that worry you, keep you awake at night, and rob you of your peace.

And then, “Peace be with you.” In an instant, Jesus is present.

In a breath, the air in the room changes, and the heartbeat of each person there slows because when the Prince of Peace enters a space, peace in its very essence enters each person there.

Peace be with you, in a word, Shalom, an everyday Middle Eastern greeting, much like our common greeting: “Hi, how are you?” The meaning behind this greeting runs deeper than it sounds. “Hi, How are you?” really means I see you, and you matter.

William Barclay says the greeting offered by Jesus also means much more.

More than “May you be saved from trouble.” It means: “May God give you every good thing.”

In my bible study group, when the room is charged with worry and concern, and it seems there is nothing we can do to improve the situation we are discussing, someone in the room will break through the tension and say, “We should pray.” The minute the words “let us pray” are spoken, the air shifts, and our hearts are quieted.

Because we trust that when two or three gather to pray, Jesus is present.

Peace enters– even before we recognize Jesus’ presence.

At that moment, something happens in our brains – we are calmed, and our prayers are clear and direct.

This is a place where faith and science are woven together. When fear and worry are present, the amygdala is activated. The amygdala is the part of the brain that triggers a fight-or-flight response.

In contrast, the prefrontal cortex is the part of the brain responsible for rational thinking and decision-making. Activity in the prefrontal cortex becomes impaired during a fight or flight response. Depending on the intensity of the fear – rational thought, emotional regulation, and self-control can go out the window.

Studies have shown that during prayer, the amygdala calms, heart rate and blood pressure decrease, and rational thinking returns.

“Peace be with you.” “May God give you every good thing.” Clears the path, empowers, and opens the space for imagining what previously seemed unimaginable.

Before this moment, the disciples had no idea what they should be doing. Their beloved friend and mentor has been unjustifiably executed, and they fear they may be next.

Jesus’ words “may God give you every good thing” would include may God give you a calm spirit and a clear mind. This shift in brain activity was desperately needed so the disciples could hear and understand the following commissioning.

“As the father has sent me, so I send you.” If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.

With the breath of God, he fills them with the Holy Spirit. From this moment on, everything has changed.

And in the first 5 chapters of Acts, we see the change in action. Clear-headed and empowered by the authority given by Jesus. Peter begins preaching. The first converts were baptized, and there were about 3000 of them. A community is formed, continues to grow, and many are healed.

“Day by day they spent much time together in the temple. They broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the good will of all the people. And day by day, the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.” Acts 2:46-47

Ronald Rolheiser’s book “Holy Longing” talks about the apostolic community. In this community we are, in his words “to stand shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand precisely with people who are very different from ourselves and with them hear a common word, say a common creed, share a common bread, and offer a mutual forgiveness so as in that way to bridge our differences and become a common heart. Church is not about a few like-minded persons getting together for mutual support. It is about millions and millions of different kinds of persons transcending their differences so as to become a community beyond temperament, race, ideology, gender, language, and background.”

Prior to receiving the Holy Spirit, we see a community of people filled with fear, without direction, and without the genuine connections of community. With the filling of the Holy Spirit, the apostolic community is formed and can no longer be contained within the walls of the upper room.

The work of One has now become the work of many. This community, standing shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand, bursts into the world and creates a glorious ruckus.

They continued to increase in numbers and it was when people started bringing the sick from nearby towns to be healed that the high priest, in their jealousy, took action.

The apostles were seized and taken before the council, who, in addition to their jealousy, felt like they were being blamed for Jesus’ death.

Even under the scrutiny of the council of high priests, Peter and John do not waver. The fear and anxiety that had once paralyzed them no longer has power over them, and they stand firm in their faith and convictions. Filled with inner peace, they are ready for whatever the future may hold.

We are part of this apostolic community. We break bread together, and we pray together. Jesus is present in the bread and the wine. Jesus is present in the body of believers who come together to pray in his name. Jesus is present when we go into the world and share the good news that all is forgiven of those who turn to him.

Jesus is present, and where he is, there is peace.

May we, too, be at peace and ready for whatever the future holds. May we remain faithful to the teachings of Jesus. May we stand shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand as we go out into the world, creating a glorious ruckus.

“Let us pray for peace: peace in the world and in each of our hearts.” Pope Francis (Dec 17, 1936 – April 21, 2025)

Reluctant Resolution

Photo by Melisa Godfreyson on Pexels.com

As I enter the new year, I am finishing my final months of candidacy for ordination into the diaconate for the Episcopal Diocese of Montana. The path to ordination has been a long process of growth and transformation. I appreciate this process so much, but that has only sometimes been the case. Many days, I resisted self-reflection and self-evaluation, goal setting, and stretching my capacity to adapt.

I am not a runner, but I have a few runner friends, and I have heard that there is a time when you stop thinking about all the muscles, the pain, and the sound of your feet on the ground. Your legs feel lighter and more robust, the rhythm of your stride becomes meditative, and your focus broadens and centers simultaneously. You can see and navigate the road ahead, making adjustments for holes or rocks while listening as the inner workings of your mind process the twists and turns of life with clarity.

In spiritual formation, we will also reach a point like this. There will come a time when we no longer dread every challenging moment or self-reflection exercise. We will stop overthinking our journal writing and analysis of every encounter. We begin to focus our breathing and our prayer life while at the same time navigating the moments and encounters on our day-to-day journey with clarity and peace.

New Year resolutions also are hard at first. We sometimes halfheartedly commit, and many don’t expect to stick to it. We sometimes set vague goals, and those are hard to achieve successfully. Yet vague goals and halfhearted commitments can still produce results. We can accept the resistance and the ambiguity and press on toward something even if we don’t quite know what it is.

I had no real sense of direction when I started the School for Deacons in 2020. I only knew I wanted to do something besides be a lonely empty-nester without purpose. The door opened, and fearfully and reluctantly, I stepped out.

If you want to be able to run a mile by the end of 2024 (remember, I am not a runner), a good first step might be to put your running shoes on. Then, maybe tomorrow (in your running shoes), walk to the mailbox.

If you want more clarity and peace in 2024, find a daily practice you can build on. There are many different forms of prayer and meditation. Pick one, and then try it out today or…tomorrow.

Whatever you want to develop or change in 2024, accept the resistance and reluctance as part of the process, take the initial steps, and you will find your stride.

Rejoice in hope; be patient in affliction; persevere in prayer.

Romans 12:12