One said, “Your wife Sarah shall have a son.”
         Sarah laughed to herself, saying, “After I have grown old,
         and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?”
         The Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh?”
         But Sarah denied, saying, “I did not laugh”; for she was afraid.
         He said, “Oh yes, you did laugh.”
                  —from Genesis 18.10-15

As I approach my retirement on Sunday I am laughing—
laughter not of derision but of release,
laughter at the joke that at what seems an end
some things are just beginning,
laughter at the irony of my self-importance overshadowed
by what is given to me,
laughter at the mystery that as I grow old
I’m now ripe to produce what I haven’t before:
now it is time to pluck me from the tree
and let me offer my sweet fruit.

And there is a part of me, so wise and earnest and mature,
that denies I am laughing, denies I am puzzled or surprised,
pretends I have this figured out.
The angels calmly call my bluff,
my assurance I know the future, know what’s possible.
The joke’s on me.

When you get old,
laugh at it.
It helps you ripen.

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

June 11, 2020

            God said to Abram,
         “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house
         to the land that I will show you.”
                  —Genesis 12.1

This Sunday I will retire as a Methodist Minister, after 40 years in six churches and one college campus in four states. That’s something like 5000 worship services. Yeah, it’s time.

People ask when I got my call into ministry and my answer is: around 1835. I’m the sixth generation of Methodist Ministers (and one gunsmith) in my family going all the way back to Enos Holmes, who was ordained about then. It’s been 185 years. It really is time.

But, joking aside, when did I receive my calling to ministry? Well, joking aside, it began in 1835. Or maybe with Rev. Obadiah Holmes, Eons’ great-great-great-great grandfather, born in 1606. Or in 1514, with the birth of his great-grandfather George Holmes… or father back. Because each of us belongs to a great cloud of witnesses, a long, magnificent line of people bearing love from one generation to another. We are each one little part of an epic story that began before us and will continue after us. It’s the story of God’s love and justice, the story God is telling using each of us as the words and sentences of the story.

Your calling is your place in the story. It might be to carry on a family tradition—or to change it. I guess that’s how the gunsmith got in there. Your calling is the way God uses your story to tell a story that’s not about you. Your calling is greater than your job. My calling will continue after I retire from parish leadership. I’ll be a different part of the same story. So maybe the real answer is that my calling is just now beginning. I’m discovering who I really am aside from what job I have.

Your real calling—your vocation—is who you are, not what you do. It changes with time, but it’s eternal. “God chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before God in love” (Eph. 1.4). Listen for your calling, for the voice of God inviting you to play a part in God’s story. It may mean following a well-trodden path, or breaking a tradition of 185 years. Wherever it takes you, listen and follow. God will go ahead of you.

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

June 10, 2020

We celebrated our fortieth anniversary
not with a party or a romantic date,
but by packing, preparing to move.

From what’s accumulated we choose what stays or goes;
the staying of love we chose long ago
we choose again and again, always choosing:

the constant, the container, the compass,
the warp. The melody, no matter the key,
the tempo or time signature or thousand harmonies.

Abandon the things. Set them out at the curb.
Cling only to presence, being there for each other:
it’s the serenity that lasts, underneath the noise.

Things break. Places change. Hearts grow.
Presence persists, adapts, abides.
When we leave the house, the house we come to.

The this and the that come and go.
The where and the what change and flow.
The we remains. And, so, the gratitude.

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

June 9, 2020

Yesterday Beth and I marked forty years married,
a journey with forty legs: some meadows, some desert,
but all endured, all blessed, all chosen.

I can’t lay my hands on the length of forty years;
it’s the depth that matters, music swelling,,
growth rings expanding, a well deepening.

Forty years is long enough for Israel in the wilderness
but our eyes were not on the horizon, but on each other:
the promise is not another land but this one,

the journey itself, this moment and the next,
in which, without effort or deserving,
we enter the Presence, we receive the miracle.

Friends, every moment
is God’s 40 years with us,
choosing us again and again.

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

June 8, 2020

           At the cross the people stood by watching;
         and the leaders scoffed.
                  —Luke 23.35

Three officers stood silent
while a fourth killed a helpless man, slowly.
Centurions at the crucifixion.

To kill, all we have to do is stand silent.
The killing is already going on.
All we have to do is stand by. Stay silent.

Don’t raise your voice.
Don’t protest.
Don’t question what happens.

Don’t object when the Emperor desecrates the holy place.
Don’t defy the secret police.
Don’t cry out. Don’t disrupt.

That’s all you have to do to abet the killing. Stay silent.
The killing will go on, just fine.
Thank you for your cooperation.

Unless you would like your own cross
to bear. Unless you would stand with the man
with the crown of thorns.

Unless you wish to take your faith that seriously
in these serious times.
Unless in you the Holy Spirit is already crying out.

Unless in this kingdom of death you would be resurrected.
Unless you have already died and your life is hidden in Christ.
Unless in you life is stronger than death, love is stronger than fear.

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

June 5, 2020

My church is conducting worship online these days.
I sing a lot of our music live;
we also pre-record some pieces
one voice at a time and mix them into an ensemble piece.
I record a guitar track. Then a vocal track or two or three.
Then I send them off to James and he adds Jenny’s voice
and mixes then into a beautiful song.
I never get to hear the whole song, just my part,
till the mix is done.

Love is like that.
God is singing in us.
You don’t hear the whole song.
You just listen to God’s love
and sing your part,
and trust the whole
is more beautiful than you can know.
That is all.

That is enough.

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

June 4, 2020

          “Go and make disciples of all nations,
          teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” 
                 —Matthew 28.19-20

What he commanded was love.
Our calling is not to manipulate people
to change their religious affiliation.
(If that were true, we would be converting people to Judaism.)
It’s to help people become students of the way he taught:
to live loving lives.

How do we do that?
The same way he did: we show them.

In the worst of conditions, in the awfullest of times,
we show love.

We throw ourselves on the mercy of God
to help us love, for we can only with God’s help.

Only by loving
will we help others love
(but beyond our knowing or seeing).
This is the grace of God: that the little mustard seed
of our love of a single neighbor
changes the nations.

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

June 3, 2020

How do you live through a siege?
How do you guard your heart and keep your hope
amid violence, hatred, injustice and fear?
You pray.

Sit still.
Let the sounds of the news
and the voices in your head settle and fade.
Release your fears and desires. Offer them to God.

Sit with the God of love and mercy.
Just sit with God. Sit, and listen.

Listen to God’s passion for life and wholeness,
for justice and healing.

What do you hear from God,
the God who says “Let there be light,”
who says “I will give my life for you,”
who enters the world’s suffering?
What is God saying to you?

It may be silence.
God may be weeping. God may be praying,
radiating blessing for all who are broken,
working wonders, renewing life you cannot see or know.

Open your heart
to let that light and mercy flood in.
to trust that gracious will.

Breathe deeply of that peace,
willing to be light in the darkness…
and go with love and courage
into the day.

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

June 2, 2020

        Examine yourselves to see whether you are living in the faith.
                  —2 Corinthians 13.5

How do you live through the siege? Whether it is climate change, police brutality, a viral pandemic or 400 years of white supremacy, how do you live faithfully when there is sickness and evil around you?

First, examine yourself. Keep paying attention. Before you judge others test yourself. The only person you can control is you, so do so. What are your basic values? Do you apply them to yourself and others equally? See that they are foundational values, not just self-benefiting wishes. (Here’s the test: Will you—do you—sacrifice to confer the benefits of your values on others?) What is the world you hope to live in? Live in it. Follow its rules. Demonstrate its value. Be light.

Serve each other. Let every action be for the sake of the wholeness of all, not merely your own advantage. Let compassion guide you. Love.

Bear witness. Be transparent. Do not hide your sorrow or your rage. They are part of your power to care. Don’t silence yourself if you are grieving while others are happy, or joyful when others despair. Honor your heart. Don’t whine; don’t spend energy wishing for what is not; don’t blame or judge. But give your broken heart freedom to speak its truth, to sing its song. Start the conversation: not the bitch session, but the dialogue about where to go next, what we can do. We can.

Protect the vulnerable. As the Bible says, “care for the widows and orphans:” for those most at risk, marginalized, or disenfranchised. We are all part of one whole; you are not whole unless your neighbor is. Check yourself when you want to defend your own comfort at another’s expense. Tend to one another. Belong to the whole.

Disrupt. Interrupt your own participation systems that perpetuate harm or injustice. Whether you would transmit racism, plastic waste or a coronavirus, seek ways to stop the spread. Break the cycle. Practice a new way of living. Do justice.

Hope. Hope is not wishful thinking but trust in what is unseen. God’s grace is at work in ways we can’t know. Notice the signs, small and great. Stay in touch with others who care and keep each other’s vision alive. Shield your joy. Practice gratitude. Seek healing. Set the burden of your dread or despair or guilt in the hands of the Gentle One who heals, who radiates blessing, who even now is creating life. We do not know the end; but we know the journey of life is full of grace. Walk it.

You can’t save the world, but you can bless it. Do justice; love mercy; walk humbly with God. Trust God, and work like hell. You are not alone.

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

June 1, 2020

         In the one Spirit
         we were all baptized into one body.                  —1 Corinthians 12.13

One Body.
We are all fingers of one hand,
one Spirit moving through us
in all our different ways.
The lie that we are separate is our first sin.
Our denial does not negate our unity;
our obliviousness does not remove us
from the one body.
There is no other;
we are that one; they are us.

Unless we weep with those who weep,
or rage with those who rage, we betray the Spirit.
Until we ourselves are the one
lying handcuffed, black,
with a white person’s knee on our throat
we do not have the Holy Spirit,
but the spirit of denial.
Until we see our own knee on that throat,
we blaspheme against the Spirit.

Pray that the Holy Spirit will awaken us
to our oneness,
that we may love our neighbor
as ourselves,
for that they are.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

May 29, 2020