Anointing

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard,
         anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair.
         The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

                  – John 12.3

Despite all desire
and its loveliness,
         — a giving away.

In the sight of those
who criticize,
         —a pouring out.

Amidst the stench
of death and violence,
         —the aroma of life.

Among those
who do not understand,
         —tenderness.

Though there are those
who divide and separate,
         —a being with.

Within reach of those
who strike,
         —a gentle touch.

In sight of the grave
and those who threaten,
         —hope.

For the sake of those
who suffer,
         —a blessing.

At the feet of those
who are accused,
         —compassion.

Throughout the house
of fear,
         —the fragrance of grace.
         

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight5(at)hotmail.com

Things on the dresser

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Surely you have them, things on the dresser,
a beer mug from college, a cracked figurine
of an angel your sister gave you,
a small wooden box with special whatnots in it:
a token from a Scandinavian trolley, a peso,
your father’s cuff link, just one, a bit of ribbon
from your wedding invitation, a heart shaped rock.
Maybe on your dresser there are a picture or two.
An old yellow and blue photo of your parents
in the eighties, wearing brown, and one of
you and your sweetheart near the corner
of a house the year after your honeymoon,
looking wise and perfect and a little unsure,
with your dog, dead now, but in the photo
all there, though he does not know why.
Something about that photo is still in you,
you always want it there. You look at it.
Every time you dust the dresser
you move the box, the angel, the pictures,
the mug. You would never think
of not having them. They live there.
Imagine yourself, surrounded by
the ordinary little things in this life,
sitting here on God’s dresser.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Prodigal People

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         While the younger son was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!”
        He came out and began to plead with his older son, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”

                  — from Luke 15.11-31

The prodigal father extends love and blessing to both his sons. No demands, no qualifications, no judgments, no favoritism. He sets aside any judgment of either son, simply wanting to be in relationship with them. He loves them both, offers himself to them both, and invites both of them to share his joy.

If our Prodigal God is this generous, forgiving and inclusive, how can we be otherwise? If God declines to judge and punish, how can we? Jesus embodies God, giving himself for the sake of the poor, welcoming the outcast, taking his place among the condemned, offering nothing but love and life. And we seek to follow him, to be godlike in the same way.

Prodigal God,
grant us our share of your Spirit,
that by your grace in us we will be
lavishly loving and extravagantly generous,
extending blessing to all without prejudice.
We reject the labels of “sinner” and “righteous,”
for all people are your beloved, sinful children,
and our righteousness comes from you alone.
May we be like you in offering hospitality
to those who walk outside our ways.
Give us courage to hold fast to our mercy
despite those who want us to judge.
May we include all people as our family,
willing to leave our places of comfort and belonging
to welcome the rejected and the outsiders,
to be one even with the condemned.
May we take risks to defend the ties that bind us,
that make us one body in your grace.
In the Spirit of Christ, God,
make us your prodigal people,
wildly generous with your love,
and deeply joyful in your blessing. Amen.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Prodigal father

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.” So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property. …
         …But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But the father said to his slaves, “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” …
         Now his elder son was in the field… and he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, “Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!” Then the father said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”

         — from Luke 15.11-32

Notice that the sons act exactly alike. Each one:
         – scorns his father
         – removes himself at a physical distance
         – expresses a desire not for love, kinship or blessing but goods
         – make judgments of his worthiness
         – expresses bitterness and brokenness
         – attempts to break his family ties
         – is not prepared to receive what the father offers

And the father treats them both exactly the same, regardless of their behavior, obedience or status, anything we might call “righteousness.” Both times the father
         – goes out from the house to the son
         – expresses kindness and joy
         – refutes the son’s judgment
         – offers more than is legally “due” the son
         – turns the focus from goods to relationships
         – re-establishes the son’s family ties
         – invites him in to the house to celebrate

The word “prodigal” does not mean “wayward,” as many believe (based on our tendency to join the brothers in making judgments). It means wastefully or recklessly extravagant, extraordinarily generous, giving “prodigiously.” The term was meant to refer to the younger son’s lavish living—but it’s really the father who’s prodigal, isn’t it? The father extends generous grace and love to both sons when neither of them “deserve” it.

Coming on the heels of the story of the lost coin and the lost sheep, this is clearly the Parable of the Lost Sons. In his judgment, selfishness and bitterness the older son is as lost to the father as the younger one was. When we judge ourselves or others, measuring our supposed “deserving,” we have left the family; we’re in a foreign land far from God’s perfect, all-including love.

This is the Parable of the Prodigal God who only wants one thing for all of us, regardless of how inappropriately we judge ourselves and one another: God wants us back. God wants us close. God wants us to be family with God and with on another. That’s all.

Our “righteousness” is not a measure of our goodness, obedience or worthiness; it’s a measure of God’s love for us. It’s our good standing in God’s eyes, determined by God’s love, not our behavior. As Paul says, it’s “not a righteousness of my own but one that comes from God” (Phil. 3.9).

This is not just a story about how we ought to repent. It’s about God’s desire for us, God’s absolute generosity in the face of our brokenness and betrayal, God’s immutable joy and faith in us, God’s pure love, unalloyed with even a bit of wrath, condemnation or despair. In light of this, repentance is abandoning our judgments about “deserving,” and saying yes to God’s ridiculous, unfounded love.

While we are still far off the Mother sees us and is filled with compassion. She runs to us and puts her arms around us and kisses us. She rejoices:”You, my child, were dead and are alive again! We must celebrate!” Before you go in to the party in amazement, hesitate just a moment in her warm, enveloping arms. Soak in the love. Feel the joy. Take in the wonder. Let it tell you who you are, in this moment and for eternity: God’s Beloved.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Prodigal brothers

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         When he came to himself he said, “How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.'” …
         … His elder brother was in the field… He became angry and refused to go in… His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, “For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back…you killed the fatted calf for him!’

                  —from Luke 15. 17-30

The younger brother distances himself from his father by essentially wishing his father’s death, by seeking his father’s goods instead of a relationship with him, and by going away. Even upon his return the son intends to break the familial relationship: “I am not worthy to be called your son; treat me as a hired hand.”

We usually paint the older brother as the righteous one, but the older brother is an exact mirror of the younger. He distances himself, staying out in the field and refusing to come in, so that the father has to come out to him. He expresses no love for his father or desire for his father’s love, but only for goods. He sees his relationship with his father in terms of “obeying your command” but not love. (In fact he’s quite rude and spiteful.) Mirroring his brother’s attempt to break the familial bond (“treat me like a hired hand”), he says he has worked “like a slave” and calls his brother “this son of yours,” as if they’re not related.

If we’ve thought of the older brother as the righteous one, it’s because he’s been obedient. But he’s selfish, bitter and unloving. Both brothers are equally wasteful (“prodigal”) of their father’s love. And the father does not seem to want obedience—he wants a loving relationship, and offers it to both sons alike. Righteousness is not obedience; it’s love.

The failure of our love—distancing ourselves from God and one another— is at the heart of our sin. In our self-centeredness we break our family bond with God and with others, as if we’re not related. It is not just of our disobedience that we repent, but of our distance, our refusing to get close to God and to others, including those whom we judge.

The good news is that in the end we are unable to break that bond. Despite our attempt to disown God and each other, God stays related to us and keeps us related to each other. The father puts a ring on the younger brother’s finger—a symbol of family. And he corrects the older brother and calls the younger one “this brother of yours.” Despite their failures he invites them both in to the party. The righteousness that we need is not obedience. It’s a loving relationship—and this is not our own doing; it is the gift of God.

In repentance we pray toward both God and neighbor, “I am not on my own. I am yours.”

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Prodigal son

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         There was a man who had two sons.
         The younger of them said to his father,
         “Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.”
         So he divided his property between them.

                  —Luke 15.11-12

The reading of the will is supposed to occur after the death of the parent. For the son to ask what he does is saying, “Father, I wish you were dead. Give me your stuff.” Alarmingly, the father consents.

How brazen the lad, we say. How selfish. He doesn’t love his father; he just wants his stuff. And the older son is no better. When the wayward son returns, the older son complains, “You haven’t even given me so much as a goat.” He doesn’t care for his father either. He just wants stuff. Both the sons distance themselves from the father, the older son by his bitterness as much as the younger by his leaving town. Neither one of them expresses love for the father.

How like us they are. I wonder if God’s deepest sadness is that God’s beloved children don’t seem to want God; we just want God’s stuff. How many of our prayers to God are for stuff—fix this disease, thanks for that sunset, protect my child, find me a job. What if instead our deepest prayer were simply “Hold me close?”

No matter what your situation, your desires, your hopes and fears, let your prayer be simply this: “Beloved Mother, Life-giving Father, hold me close. I love you. I want to be with you. Hold me close.”

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Train

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

You imagine you’re a train
making your way along your tracks
and maybe you want to plunge faster,
achieve that destination,
or go farther, extend those narrowing tracks
into the vanishing point—
or maybe jump that track for another,
maybe somehow lay a track of genius
in a new direction—

but

what if you’re not a train?

What if you’re a sound,
as a song or of a bell,
or a voice saying “I love you,”
and your journey is to expand
in every direction
into this strange, waiting world?

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Repent or perish

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

Life-giving God,
you are my oxygen,
my heart and lungs.

I long for you
like I yearn each moment
for my next breath.

I try to find life elsewhere,
easier, closer—but there is none,
and it does not give life.

But I breathe deeply of your presence,
your grace filling my body and soul,
and I live.

in my hunger I gorge
on junk food for the soul,
and I am even hungrier.

But I feast on your love
for me and all living beings
and I am satisfied.

When I think of my soul as a tree
planted in a box, untouched,
it withers.

But you dig around the roots of my soul
and the richness of life and death
soaks in through my roots and fills me.

In my fear
I turn from you
and starve myself.

But in your love
I return to you, my life,
and I live.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Gardener God

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard;
         and he came looking for fruit on it and found none.
         So he said to the gardener, “See here! For three years
         I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree,
         and still I find none. Cut it down!
         Why should it be wasting the soil?”
         The gardener replied, “Sir, let it alone for one more year,
         until I dig around it and put manure on it.
         If it bears fruit next year, well and good;
         but if not, you can cut it down.”

                  —Luke 13.6-9

Gardener God,
they said you were the one with the ax,
the demanding one, the avenging punisher—
but you are not him. You are the giver of life,
the one with nothing but loving care,
not one who commands, for whom I must produce,
but one who tends me, so that I bear fruit.
Yes, you are the one who protects me from the other!
I look for you looming above me and you are not there.
You are beneath, digging at my roots.

Will you forgive me if I flinch when I see the ax?
Will I let you dig around me,
loosen the soil I count on to hold me fast?
Will I welcome the manure, and all that it means,
for my nourishment?
Will I let your grace into my deepest roots?
Will I hear your voice not of threat but of nurture?
Will I recognize that greater power?
Will I let your manure of utter self-giving and death
bear fruit in me?

Gardener God,
tend to me
and I will bear the fruit of your love.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Published
Categorized as Reflections

The soul’s hunger

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         A dialogue on the soul’s hunger:
         Isaiah 5 and Psalm 63

Abundant one, you bless me with your promise:

         “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters;
                  and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!
         Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.”

but in dry, barren places within,
still I long for you, I don’t find you;
I’m on my hands and knees.

                           O God, you are my God,
                                    I seek you, my soul thirsts for you;
                           my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land
                                    where there is no water.

And then—I confess: in my hunger I seek
consolation in many other things, many places…
but they are not you. They don’t give me life.

         “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
                  and your labor for that which does not satisfy?

But you do not starve me. You lead me to life.

         “Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good,
                  and delight yourselves in rich food.
         Incline your ear, and come to me;
                  listen, so that you may live.”

So I return to you.
I am mindful of your presence.
I listen for your Word, and I receive life.
In you I am deeply nourished. My soul is feasted!

                           So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
                                    beholding your power and glory.
                           Because your steadfast love is better than life,
                                    my lips will praise you.
                           My soul is satisfied as with a rich feast,
                                    and my mouth praises you with joyful lips.

Help me, Generous One,
to me mindful of you always.

                           I will think of you on my bed,
                                    and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
                           for you have been my help,
                                    and in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy.
                           My soul clings to you;
                                    your right hand upholds me
.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Published
Categorized as Reflections
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