Category: Reflections

                   As I pray I give thanks for the saints who have not ceased praying for me.

God, grant me awareness of your delight, and deep spiritual wisdom and understanding. May I live life in harmony with Christ, life that gives you delight. May I bear fruit in every good work, and deepen my mindfulness of you.

Give me strength with all the strength that comes from your glorious power, and the patience to endure.

Holy One, I give you my deep gratitude and joy, for you have included me with all the saints, inheriting your light. You have rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the Realm of the Beloved, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. Alleluia!

____________________ Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily email write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

         I am setting a plumb line in the midst of my people.                  —Amos 7.8

How easy it is to be off balance, to be askew, to not see straight.

How easy it is to let my own leanings distort what I think is upright.

When I build a great tower and see it is off plumb, do I have the courage to destroy and rebuild?

God, help me to discern justice, to see love, to stand straight.

Give me faith to hold a plumb line to this world —  to be a plumb line: to stay true, to bear witness, held in your hand, suspended by your grace.

____________________ Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily email write to me at unfoldinglight (at) gmail.com

On this day of independence I give thanks for my freedom, and pray for those who are not free: for those in prison or living under oppression, for the poor and exploited, for those robbed of land and culture for the sake of mine, for those who labor under heavy burdens for the sake of my comfort, for those who are imprisoned to satisfy my race’s hunger for superiority, for those who fear for their safety because of their bodies.

I confess I pretend independence from those who suffer, or are different, so I need not care, I need not see them as myself. I repent of my independence. May their unfreedom weigh upon me. May my love of freedom be not glib or abusive. Deepen my gratitude, humility and longing for justice. Deepen my resolve not just to flaunt my own freedom but to work for the freedom of all. For until we all are free, none of us is free. God of life, set us free. Amen.

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

                   My friends, if you see someone do wrong,                   restore them with gentleness.          Help them out of that pit;                   don’t climb into it yourself.          Bear one anther’s burdens:                   this is what the law is really about.          Don’t embarrass yourself                   thinking you’re better than others.          Do work you yourself are proud of;                   don’t fuss about your neighbor’s.          Live your life, not somebody else’s.                            — Galatians 6.1-5

God I confess I want so instinctively to prove my worth by comparing it to another of less worth. Free me from this illusion, this cruelty. Give me the courage to claim my own life, to lay my own boundaries, to sing my own song,

I confess I seek my own heaven, not your peaceable Realm. I want escape, not harmony. Give me faith to belong to the whole, to give and receive, to support and depend.

God, I repent of my superiority, for I am of no help from up there. Help me be a humble servant, a willing, available partner, a peaceable member of the Realm of Mercy. May my life be a sacrament of sharing, lifting others up, carrying burdens.

I would not be not a noble eagle flying above, detached, surveying those beneath me, but a burro among friends, gladly bearing my load.

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

         Whatever house you enter,                   first say, “Peace to this house!”          And if anyone is there who shares in peace,                   your peace will rest on them;                   but if not, it will return to you.                            —Luke 10.5-6

I am a vessel of your peace. Whatever situation I enter into today, whoever I meet, I will bear peace to them. If they receive it, we will both know peace. If not, peace will remain with me. I will still be a vessel of peace.

Spirit, set me at peace. Harmony binds me together, gives rest to my body, mercy to my soul, deep peace breathing in me, filling me to overflowing. I am a vessel of your peace.

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

          Eternal One, I praise you on this threshold;          the door I open is to you. Under your eye I pack my belongings;          in your arms I move to a new place.

By your Spirit guide my hand          to take only what you give me          and leave the rest; to bring with me what is truly need          and leave behind what is unneeded. Give me faith to trust          what cannot be left behind, and to release what I thought was part of me          but was only the leaves of a season. Give me grace to say goodbye          even to myself and turn and welcome the new day,          even in my own soul.

God of time and story,          may I ever dwell on thresholds, between then and not yet,          in the present, moving. By your grace open doors;          by your grace lead me through them. For every door is your eye          and every path is the palm of your hand.

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

                   Search me, O God, and know my heart;                   test me and know my thoughts.          See if there is any wicked way in me,                   and lead me in the way everlasting.                            —Psalm 139.23-24

Look where I cannot see,          in my innermost workings. Look where I don’t want to see,        amidst my waste and offal.

Search beneath my consciousness,          beyond my grasp, my knowledge or control. Come to me when the watchman of my ego is asleep,          enter by the back gate, unguarded, or else I would push you away,          I would not let you in.

Tell me the truth I can’t determine,          not what I want, but what is. Am I receiving grace as I should,          and releasing what I do not need? Are my boundaries clear,          and the wall intact between what is truly me          and what is passing? Show me my knots of fear and clinging           and remove them by your grace.

Awaken me, O God, to the glory of this life,          the gift of your grace as your mysteries unfold within me,          your wonders, hidden and yet marvelous. Give me life, O River of Life,          and lead me in the way of love.         

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved, Grace and Peace to you.                     I had a colonoscopy last week. It was uneventful. The most serious result of a routine colonoscopy is usually an onset of bad puns. I will spare you. I recovered in a room with a few others, in beds each with a curtain around it. The way they do a colonoscopy is to blow your intestines up with air like a balloon so they can look around. When they’re done, you have to, well, deflate. It doesn’t come as easily as you’d think. A nurse came around — I could hear him go from bed to bed —  encouraging each patient to pass air so they could go home. Some of the patients didn’t speak English so he had to use some sound effects to make the point.

There we were like a half dozen race cars in our little stalls trying to rev up, one by one. I couldn’t believe how hard it was to fart given how hard I was laughing. Usually that really works.

So, you might ask, what’s my point? I’m not sure I have one; I’m just reveling in how funny it is to be human. Do I need a better way to start the day?

But there are some lessons here. 1. God allows us to move on. God has so arranged the body that it can absorb serious indignities, deal with them, and then move on. And the same is true of our souls. When I talk about baptism with kids we explore water and its lessons, and we talk about rain and tears and baths… and if there are junior high boys we end up talking about pee — and I say, “Aren’t you glad you can?” God’s grace enables you to take the good stuff out of life and let what’s toxic go. Baptism promises: sin is forgiven, mistakes are rinsed clean, shame is washed away. When I invite kids to design baptismal fonts a couple have added flush handles.

2. Sometimes we have something in us — a gift, a grief, a wound, a rage, a Word — and it really needs to come if we are to live fully. Tend to what’s in you that needs to come out, and let it out.

3. Sometimes you need to do something humbling, or even humiliating, to move on. Nome of us is exempt from the indignities of being human. Like Naaman, we just need to get over our pride and be human beings, who are, after all, funny creatures. Poot.

4. This too shall pass.                  Deep Blessings, Pastor Steve

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved, Grace and Peace to you.                    When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha,          “Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.”          Elisha said, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit.”                   —2 Kings 2.9

You who yearn for your master’s spirit, have you forgotten, it was already given to you? Remember, you were plowing, doing your work, and a prophet threw their mantle over you. You already have the power to do what you must do. There will be times of whirlwind, times of loss and chaos, times when your leader and guide is taken up in a chariot of fire —  but you still have the mantle. You will strike the Jordan and it will part. You will carry on the work of the prophet, the work of Exodus, the work of justice. In your own way you will do it; you have been given your gifts, not another’s, not even a great leader’s. Look within. What bears the fruit of love, joy and peace, of patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control? Whatever in you bears this fruit, nourish its roots and trust it. Wear the mantle. Do the work. Chariots of fire can’t take it from you. Wear the mantle.

          Deep Blessings, Pastor Steve

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved, Grace and Peace to you.                    Now when the Lord was about to take Elijah          up to heaven by a whirlwind,          Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal.          Elijah said to Elisha, “Stay here;          for the Lord has sent me as far as Bethel.”          But Elisha said, “As the Lord lives, and as you yourself live,          I will not leave you.”                   —2 Kings 2.1-2

Here’s a story about leave-taking. (It’s appropriate for a lot of United Methodist churches whose pastor may be preaching their last sermon there, or just did recently: most appointments run from July 1 to June 30). Oddly the lectionary skips a part, then picks up again. In the part it skips prophets from Bethel ask Elisha if he knows Elijah is about to go, and Elisha says, “Yes, I know. Keep silent.” Then he and Elijah go through the same routine they did earlier: “Say here.” “No, I’m coming with you.” They go to Jericho and prophets ask Elisha the same question and he answers the same: “I know. Keep silent.” Elisha and Elijah repeat their routine again and go on to the Jordan, where the lectionary picks up the story.

Why does the lectionary omit that part? The pathos? The repetition? But grief is like that. It comes in waves, it repeats itself, it asks what we don’t want to answer. And it’s a journey. It leads us on to a new place, then on again. It goes on longer than we think it will. We want to cut parts out. We do our best not to leave the ones we love, until we must. We experience it with the loss of a loved one, the departure of a beloved spiritual teacher, or really any significant change. Elisha is not in denial. He’s trying to stay in the present moment. He knows Elijah is going. But he’s not gone yet. If you spend in your energy grieving what hasn’t happened yet, it might as well have already happened. To have gone off mourning before Elijah left would have been for Elisha to have left. But he didn’t.

Don’t grieve the future. Enjoy the present. Receive the blessings and lessons of the present moment. The future will have lessons of its own. No experience is guaranteed to last forever. Be present, and enjoy it while you can. Give and receive what you can with your loved ones; learn what you can from your spiritual teachers while you have them. Listen, “mark, and inwardly digest” what you can take from them. Not only will you not have to grieve before they even go, you’ll lose less when they do, because you’ve taken more in. Say to the present moment, “I will not leave you.”

Deep Blessings, Pastor Steve

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail, write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com