Category: Reflections

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

In buildings too long
without letting herself out of windows,
without crawling around enough,
she finally escaped
into an untended lot
and began the work
of healing her bond with the earth.
She hunched
and stitched her attention,
thread by thread,
with each pebble, each blade of grass,
each little bundle of dirt and dead roots,
each tendril of weed and nameless bug,
until she had woven a web of tenderness
with a little tumult of soil
and its sky, no wider than her knee.
Despairing of the vastness of it all,
she went to bed that night weary
and a little dubious.
But she should have known:
in the night those threads out in the dark
grew, as they do,
rooting among trees,
conversing knowingly with birds,
until by dawn the whole earth
was woven again into a living whole,
eager to greet her
with the tenderest love.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Today is the first day of fall, and I’m mourning the end of summer. (Having moved, we went to the hardware store instead of the beach.) And I’m thinking about this new church being my last before I retire, so I’m thinking autumnal thoughts about the end of my career and even the end of life. But it’s also a time of beginning. I’m starting in at a new, exciting church. One son is planning a wedding, another starting grad school; another preparing to graduate from college and start a career. I guess every milestone points at least two ways, doesn’t it?

In fact, this not the first day of fall for some of you. For you folks in Australia and South Africa, it’s the first day of Spring! (And for you folks in Brazil, these seasons might not mean much at all.) And fall means something entirely different to us in New England than it does to you in the Desert Southwest. Or Florida. Or England. Or Vienna.

We’re all in a different place. Today in Texas you’re praying for rain, and in Vermont you’re recovering from floods. Today a friend of mine is sitting at a bedside watching over a death, while another celebrates a birth. One is just beginning chemo; another just finished it. Today in the great pilgrimage of life some of us are making our way into or out of familiar places, or certain seasons, or relationships, or difficulty, or faith, or even life itself. But where we all are is in the present moment. In all of life’s changes and challenges, its gifts and graces, the invitation is to free ourselves from all dread or regret, all desire to be elsewhere, and simply be in the present moment. Life is this, not something else. Be here.

Now this might seem like a way to isolate myself, to separate myself from you who are in a different place. But here’s the miracle: when I am freely and lovingly present in this moment, I meet you there. Because that’s where you are, too. We are all experiencing it differently, but we’re all in the same present moment. When I allow myself to be here, I am here with you.

In prayer, when I am still and fully in the present moment, I don’t have to ”think about” everyone, or call them to mind. You are all here: my family, my friends, all the people I’ve ever known, hundreds of you who read Unfolding Light, and everyone else in the world. We’re all here. Each on our own journeys, in our own landscapes, with our own stories unfolding in their own ways, are all here in the present moment. When I become deeply aware of this, I connect with everybody. And somehow I sense that a greater Someone holds us all in this present moment, this one sacred place. In this grace, every moment is the right place to be.

Whatever milestone you pass today, even if it is death, will not be your last, nor will you pass it alone. Whatever today brings for you, we are all together with you in it. And the Present One holds you, bearing you from this one sacred moment to the next, deeply present with you, and for you, and within you.
         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”
         —Matthew 21.23

The people thirsted for water. So the Lord said to Moses, “Take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel.
         —Exodus 17. 5-6

The power of God for life flows in us,
an unpluggable spring.
It asks no permission, follows no rules,
knows no bounds. It’s free.
It makes the flower blossom,
the child survive,
the artist reveal things,
the healer do miracles.
It gives you power to love,
to dare, to forgive.
It makes you shine with God.
People will ask you who you think you are
to do such things.
Never mind them.
People will assume you’re nuts,
walking up to the rock with your stick
like that.
They think you have to know something
about how to strike the rock, but you don’t.

The harder thing is not going up against
those stone-hearted ones who disbelieve.
It’s taking the stick
to the rocks of your own life,
the places you thought were dry and hard.
Inside the rock, I swear,
water gurgles.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

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