Author: Steve

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
I am thinking this morning of a friend who has just been diagnosed with breast cancer, and another whose daughter was sexually abused by a family friend. I’m thinking of a friend who is in a faith crisis, not in her relationship with God, but with the church, which wouldn’t be so painful if she weren’t a pastor. I’m sure that you, too, know people who are suffering or struggling, and that at times you yourself feel like life is against you, or at least has let you down.

It just doesn’t help to say, “It will be all right.” Sometimes it isn’t. And it doesn’t help to say, “God will never give you what you can’t handle.” That’s ridiculous. For one thing, God doesn’t “give” you trouble; life does. Your neighbor does. A germ does. A friend who abuses your daughter is not acting according to God’s will. God doesn’t micromanage all our disasters. And furthermore, sometimes we can’t handle it. People crack up, break down, go crazy and commit crimes or suicide all the time. Some disasters wreck things that never get fixed. So where is God in all this, huh?

Well, it’s not as if I know. I haven’t seen heaven, or watched over God’s shoulder, or even suffered enough to have gained wisdom that’s very deep. But, from my own little struggles with life and pain and failure and disappointment, and from my wrestling with scripture, here’s what I do know: that God is the One who weeps with us. That God has “com-passion:” feeling-with. That God does not inflict suffering, but bears it. That God does what Paul tells us to do, to “weep with those who weep.” That the creator of the universe, infinite and unknowable, is somehow tenderly attentive to each of us, present within us, dwelling in our pain and our joy, in ways that we can’t see and seldom even suspect. But there. Even God’s absence is somehow a part of God’s indwelling Presence.

I guess that’s what we mean by “Christ”: the second person of the Holy Trinity, the nature of God that is not infinite and far-off, and not necessarily all-powerful, but is lovingly present, that is not necessarily always working miracles, but is simply with us, even in our suffering. Just there, holding us, not “making it better,” but just being there. The ancient hymn (quoted in Philippians 2.5-11) says that “Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.” He came and sat with us in our pain.

If you ask, “What good goes that do?” I have to say I don’t know. I just know it’s true. And if you say, “Well, God must be weeping a lot,” I say, Yes. And yet somehow God is still joyful. Imagine that.

Whether you are joyful or fearful today, struggling or at ease, needing to give or receive, there is within you the compassion that comes from God. Trust that you are accompanied by the gentle man with blessing in his heart and holes in his hands, hands that know hurt, and that still reach out. Imagine the Spirit of Life within you, gently weeping, dwelling in you with infinite blessing and somehow, even here, infinite joy.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

Today may the good earth hold you
with the unfailing love of the Steadfast One.

May the sun illumine you
with the loving wisdom of the Holy One.

May the air fill you
with the Spirit of Life.

May the human family surround you
with the Divine Presence.

May birds remind you
of the joy of the Delightful One.

Today may some thing gracious happen
to speak to your heart.

Today may something odd happen
that awakens you.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         
                  
         

In the deepest love,
in the wordless place
where lovers dwell inside each other,
where a mother holds infant,
where trees root in forests,
I sit in peace and stillness,
not thinking, just being here,
and I root in you,
and you hold me,
and we dwell inside each other,
in the holy silence at the center,
in deepest love.

         
                  
         

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearest,
I’ve been walking around here, sightseeing. I love looking through
the trees into the meadow where the sun is playing knee deep. Or
among kids in yards, into that magic space between them. And
through the silences of an old couple, making up after a hurt. It
seems like all the good stuff around here is in between things.
Fascinating.

Now I’m back at the hotel, feet up, looking into your heart…

All the best,
God

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

I was thirsty, in a barren desert,
and I cried, “Fill my cup!”
and held it out with trembling hands.

And it rained and rained
and turned the desert green,
and I threw my cup into the river.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
The Israelites gathered the manna, some gathering more, some less. But when they measured it with an omer, those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed.
         —Exodus 16.17

The laborers were paid, each the usual daily wage, regardless of how long they had worked. To those who expected more the landowner said, “Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” So the last will be first, and the first will be last.
         —from Matthew 20. 10-16

If your enemies are hungry, give them something to eat.
         —Romans 16. 20

We tend to think that “justice” means that people get what they deserve. It is some kind of equal payment for what people have done, good or bad, in the past. The “bad” are punished and the “good” are rewarded.

But God’s justice is something different. It means that people get what they need. The Good News is that although we all fail to fully embody the love in which we are created—“we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God”—God does not measure that out on a scale and repay us for that, but offers us grace instead. God is not chained to the past, but frees us in the present moment to receive what we need to live deeply. God’s “repayment” is always a gift, not a wage. Notice how often the word “justice” in the Bible is part of the phrase “justice and mercy.”

God repeatedly demands that we “do justice.” God is telling us to stop trying to judge what people “deserve”—there is no such thing—but to provide for equal sharing so that everyone has what they need. Yes, Tea Partiers, this is a clear “redistribution of wealth.” Why in the world would anyone need more than an omer of manna? If you have more, it’s probably someone else’s. Justice means sharing. It usually entails forgiveness for the wrongdoer (though their victims may need restitution), empowerment of the oppressed, acceptance of the stranger and outlier, equal access to money and power for the poor. It also entails generosity for the wealthy, humility for the self-righteous, and limitation of the power of the mighty. Among people Jesus met what many needed was not a lecture but healing. The rich you man needed to sell everything and give to the poor. Mary needed to lay aside her labor and be quiet with Jesus. His executioners needed forgiveness.

Of course the capitalists will complain that equal sharing forces everybody to be the same, but they think that all that matters is what we have, not who we are. In real life, if everyone has what they need we can all live abundantly as God created us to.

Devote yourself to justice, to sharing so that everyone has what they need. Attend to the needs even of your enemies. This is what saves us from our selfishness and connects us to real, deep, eternal life. We do it not because we “ought” to, but because we need to.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
In the desert the whole community grumbled against Moses and Aaron “You have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death.” Then the Holy One said to Moses, “I will rain down bread from heaven for you.” … In the morning thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, “It is the bread the Holy One has given you to eat.” The people of Israel called the bread manna.
         —Exodus 16. 2-4, 13-15

We sigh as we sit hungrily in our tents, amidst fields of manna. We never seem to recognize it at first, and even when we do it’s a mystery. (“Manna” is Hebrew for “What’s that?”) But God provides for us grace we haven’t earned, a harvest we never planted, blessing that comes from the heart of God.

Every day is manna. Each breath is a feast of life, granted by the hand of mystery, full of infinite blessing, offered for us to have abundant life. Every moment is a gift, overflowing from God’s grace, connecting us with God, inviting us to digest that grace, to take it in and make it a part of ourselves. You can’t analyze it, understand it, or make sense of it; you can hardly describe it, or even name it. “What’s-it?” may have to do. All you can do is receive it, take it in, and live on it.

Every moment is manna. It looks unremarkable or even unidentifiable, but it’s God’s grace. Today, look for the manna. Take what you need.

_________________

Weather Report

Bread.
A low-pressure system of extravagance
will rain blessing upon us,
coming our of a direction we never suspect.
Despite partially clouded awareness,
low-lying hearts may be inundated with gratitude.
Expect flash floods of grace today and tomorrow,
with drifts of blessing reaching two feet—or two hands.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
We held an interfaith prayer service on the church lawn last night, praying for healing for the world. Christian, Muslim, Hindu and Jewish prayers lit the darkness like candles. The Beatitudes were chanted, the Koran recited, Bible passages read, heartfelt thoughts shared. We lit candles, sang together, rang a bell and stood in silence. As we left, I heard two Methodists say to each other “Om Shanti,” and a Muslim saying to herself, “Jesus wept.”

When God created the world what God was doing was praying. When we touch another’s suffering, we spin the fibers of the universe. When we join our prayers with anyone else, of any tradition, we weave the threads that mend the world.

We are one people, one life, one heart. Each of us is a part of the fabric of humanity, the garment that God wears, sad and beautiful, that fits her just right, as she walks through the world, shining.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
When the towers of what you know collapse,
          what do you know?
Beside the great abyss that has swallowed
          what you cherished,
          where do you stand?
Before the darkness of war
          closed the eyes of your heart,
what did you see?
What does the vast, swirling silence say?

That those who cause pain and those who receive it
          fall into the same grave.
That lost in the wreckage every time is
          the only God worth having.
That we have seen days dark enough
          for resurrection.
That wisdom is born of vulnerability.
That evil is not a monstrous power
          but a sinuous thread,
the will to disregard
          in service of our fear.
That there is in all of us a great hole,
          under a pall of smoke and sorrow,
in which we meet each other
          and know each other deeply.
That not victory, but tenderness
          will save the world.
That before the dust falls upon us,
          we who ourselves are dust will have chosen
to be people of might or people of grace,
          one or the other;
and that it is in choosing that we are human,
          and in choosing well that we are blessed.
That we are not worthy of our self-confidence
          and yet God, still weeping,
resolutely trusts us
          with her most fragile hopes.
That our flesh is sackcloth.
That we who are covered with the ash
          of our failure, our fear of ourselves,
          are yet beautiful,
that we who are certainly lost
          can point the way.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if someone sins against me,
how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?”
Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you,
seventy-seven times.”
          —Matthew 18. 21-22

Forgiving One, you unbind me from all my guilt,
from all the hurt I have caused you and others,
loving me perfectly. I thank you.

You hold in your heart the hurt I have received.
My pain does not separate me from you.
You work your grace for my healing.

Receive my anger, my desire to give back my pain—
for you are the one who receives
all the pain that I cause.

Free me from judging myself according to my pain,
or judging one who has hurt me according to my pain.
Deepen my trust that we are both souls in you.

Silence my conviction that I know what they deserve,
and give me instead compassion for them,
knowing that one who hurts others can only be hurting.

Open my heart to your infinite love for me, and so for them,
love that is impervious to our faults,
love for them that is undiminished by my suffering.

Remove all that prevents my loving them perfectly.
I pray for them with heartfelt love and blessing.
I find in their blessedness your joy, and in their forgiveness my own.

         I pray this prayer as many times
         as it takes to feel it deeply, to say with joy:
         Amen.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

__________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net