star

In terms of social unrest today or 2000 years ago what happens to a young Palestinian woman unmarried who turns up pregnant? How can she safely carry the child to term? And then what happens to them? In Bethlehem a few years ago I listened to a French speaking nun from Lydda tell a group of us North American pilgrims what happens there at the orphanage where she serves.  They take in orphans, and raise them through their first school years. An 18-year-old man came to their door one day with a gift. It was a thank you gift: his first paycheck. Years before he was born and cared for and raised to school-age there at la Crèche de Bethléem. Kids grow up there, up to first grade, then go to foster programs and schools until they are full grown. Where did these kids come from? Some are children found abandoned, or placed temporarily by social services due to serious social unrest or problems within their families. And others? Their mothers were young unmarried women from villages in Palestine who became pregnant. A scandal, possibly fatal, would erupt if their pregnancy was discovered or they had a child in their hometown. So on the quiet they are brought to Bethlehem where the child is born and the mother is cared for. Then the mother returns to her village. Crisis averted: the child lives, the mother lives, violence is not done to either one. How different it was for Mary who knew her husband but not yet intimately. Customarily he would have severed the relationship if she were pregnant by another man, wouldn’t he? But he protects her and raises the child with her and so the holy family begins its journey. Pregnancy is risky, always risky when the child is unwanted or wanted only by a jealous king its peril is increased. Mary took on the risk, as did Joseph, and what we see in Mary is more than courage: it is humility and obedience. She sees herself as of lowly estate, as a simple daughter of a village family. She is not the daughter of the king, not a daughter of Herod and certainly not the child of Caesar Augustus who was called “son of God, King of Kings.”  (Read or watch “I Claudius'' and you’ll see just how wildly different two young women can be.) Mary is a woman of honor and great strength. To say, “Let it be done to me according to thy word,” is to take on a great burden for any woman. To bear a child in time of danger, to take on the grace and favor that is not her due but her desire now to serve God as God calls her to serve. Mary Holmes, art history teacher at Cowell College, said that the virtue our society needs now is obedience – and I think she meant it in the Marion sense of docility: accepting the reign of God and the power of the spirit is not passivity. Mary is already empowered by her creator’s love and her sacrificial response. She will now know no ordinary life nor will her son. All that is changed now and forever. She is a woman clothed with the sun: made shining and glorious by her simplicity and her humility, her obedience and her courageous response: “Here I am, Lord.” Oh, by the way, that 18 year old was sent out with a fond farewell by his foster parents but he was back at the door in moments. “Mom, could you give me money for the bus?” He had given them his whole paycheck and it was all he had.

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1. Here am I Lord: let it be done to me according to thy word.
2. Docility, obedience: Mary Holmes
3. He hath regarded the lowly estate of his handmaiden: Martin Luther Christmas Book (1950)
4. Risky: la Crèche de Bethléem en Palestine. (https://www.helloasso.com/associations/amis-de-la-creche-de-bethleem)

(https://youtu.be/sU6B9GzPuM8)

What happens to a young Palestinian woman who turns up pregnant?

“Docility is to have reverence and acceptance of God’s plan for our lives in order to experience fulfillment, true happiness and closeness to God.” (https://ct.dio.org/item/4903-docility-to-the-holy-spirit.html)

A version of this story was printed in the Arizona Daily Star on December 19th 2021, page E3, under the title, "Trust in God as Mary did." 

tree of love

Mary Holmes, professor of art history at my undergraduate college, observed that in our time the challenge was obedience. That is difficult for our generations. We don't want to be told what to do.

And who can blame us, those who remember the statue by Jack Zajac of the "Sacrificial Goat" in the courtyard of the college, commemorating a student who loyally answered the call of his country and went to serve - and die - in the American/Vietnam War. We especially, however, prefer not to obey God.

No serpents have bit us as yet - or have they?

Perhaps regardless of our herpetological challenges and enthusiasms we should consider looking again to the sign of the one lifted up - not bronze but flesh. The life and death and resurrection of Jesus. 

He did more than die for us - he led the way for us from a living death ("under condemnation" as Paul would have it) through the passion of dying and on to the eternal resurrection life - that is obedience.

That's the kicker. Eternal life starts now - if we allow ourselves to be brought into harmony with our creator, through our redeemer, in the power of the divine mother of all the spirit. 

How can we possibly manage this? Not on our own merit - or by our own power. That's where the grace comes in.

The grace that we experience in the horrifying gift of the persistent - adamant, unwavering - witness and sacrificial offering of Jesus.

Sunday 14 March 2021: Fourth Sunday in Lent
Numbers 21:4-9
Ephesians 2:1-10
John 3:14-21
Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22
http://edgeofenclosure.org/lent4b.html

Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Dream of the Rood

What I wish to say of the best of dreams,

what came to me in the middle of the night

after the speech-bearers lie biding their rest! (1-3)

It seemed to me that I saw the greatest tree

brought into the sky, bewound in light,

the brightest of beams. That beacon was entirely

garnished with gold. Gemstones

prominent and proud at the corners of the earth—

five more as well blazoned across the span of its shoulders.

Every angel of the Lord warded it there,

a brilliant sight of a universe to come.

Surely it was no longer the gallows of vile crime

in that place—yet there they kept close watch,

holy spirits for all humanity across the earth,

and every part of this widely famous creation. (4-12)

Surpassing was this victory-tree, and me splattered with sins—

struck through with fault. I saw this tree of glory,

well-worthied in its dressing, shining in delights,

geared with gold. Gemstones had

nobly endowed the Sovereign’s tree.

Nevertheless I could perceive through all that gold

a wretched and ancient struggle, where it first started

to sweat blood on its right side. I was entirely perturbed with sorrows—

I was fearful for that lovely sight.

Then I saw that streaking beacon warp its hue, its hangings —

at times it was steamy with bloody wet, stained with coursing gore,

at other times it was glistening with treasure. (13-23)

Yet I, lying there for a long while,

beheld sorrow-chary the tree of the Savior

until I heard that it was speaking.

Then the best of wood said in words: (24-27)

“It happened long ago—I remember it still—

I was hewn down at the holt’s end

stirred from my stock. Strong foes seized me there,

worked in me an awful spectacle, ordered me to heave up their criminals.

Those warriors bore me on their shoulders

until they set me down upon a mountain.

Enemies enough fastened me there.

I saw then the Lord of Mankind

hasten with much courage, willing to mount up upon me. (28-34)

“There I dared not go beyond the Lord’s word

to bow or burst apart—then I saw the corners of the earth

tremor—I could have felled all those foemen,

nevertheless I stood fast. (35-38)

“The young warrior stripped himself then—that was God Almighty—

strong and firm of purpose—he climbed up onto the high gallows,

magnificent in the sight of many. Then he wished to redeem mankind.

I quaked when the warrior embraced me—

yet I dared not bow to the ground, collapse

to earthly regions, but I had to stand there firm.

The rood was reared. I heaved the mighty king,

the Lord of Heaven—I dared not topple or reel. (39-45)

“They skewered me with dark nails, wounds easily seen upon me,

treacherous strokes yawning open. I dared injure none of them.

They shamed us both together. I was besplattered with blood,

sluicing out from the man’s side, after launching forth his soul. (46-49)

“Many vicious deeds have I endured on that hill—

I saw the God of Hosts racked in agony.

Darkness had covered over with clouds

the corpse of the Sovereign, shadows oppressed

the brightest splendor, black under breakers.

All of creation wept, mourning the king’s fall—

Christ was upon the cross. (50-56)

“However people came hurrying from afar

there to that noble man. I witnessed it all.

I was sorely pained with sorrows—yet I sank down

to the hands of those men, humble-minded with much courage.

They took up there Almighty God, lifting up him up

from that ponderous torment. Those war-men left me

to stand, dripping with blood—I was entirely wounded with arrows.

They laid down the limb-weary there, standing at the head of his corpse,

beholding there the Lord of Heaven, and he rested there awhile,

exhausted after those mighty tortures. (57-65a)

“Then they wrought him an earthen hall,

the warriors within sight of his killer. They carved it from the brightest stone,

setting therein the Wielder of Victories. Then they began to sing a mournful song,

miserable in the eventide, after they wished to venture forth,

weary, from the famous Prince. He rested there with a meager host. (65b-69)

“However, weeping there, we lingered a good while in that place,

after the voices of war-men had departed.

The corpse cooled, the fair hall of the spirit.

Then someone felled us both, entirely to the earth.

That was a terrifying event! Someone buried us in a deep pit.

Nevertheless, allies, thanes of the Lord, found me there

and wrapped me up in gold and in silver. (70-77)

“Now you could hear, my dear man,

that I have outlasted the deeds of the baleful,

of painful sorrows. Now the time has come

that men across the earth, broad and wide,

and all this famous creation worthy me,

praying to this beacon. On me the Child of God

suffered awhile. Therefore I triumphant

now tower under the heavens, able to heal

any one of them, those who stand in terror of me.

Long ago I was made into the hardest of torments,

most hateful to men, until I made roomy

the righteous way of life for them,

for those bearing speech. Listen—

the Lord of Glory honored me then

over all forested trees, the Warden of Heaven’s Realm!

Likewise Almighty God exalted his own mother,

Mary herself, before all humanity,

over all the kindred of women. (78-94)

“Now I bid you, my dear man,

to speak of this vision to all men

unwrap it wordfully, that it is the Tree of Glory,

that the Almighty God suffered upon

for the sake of the manifold sins of mankind,

and the ancient deeds of Adam.

Death he tasted there, yet the Lord arose

amid his mighty power, as a help to men.

Then he mounted up into heaven. Hither he will come again,

into this middle-earth, seeking mankind

on the Day of Doom, the Lord himself,

Almighty God, and his angels with him,

wishing to judge them then—he that holds the right to judge

every one of them—upon their deserts

as they have earned previously here in this life. (95-109)

“Nor can any remain unafraid there

before that word that the Wielder will speak.

He will ask before the multitude where that man may be,

who wished to taste in the Lord’s name

the bitterness of death, as he did before on the Cross.

Yet they will fear him then, and few will think

what they should begin to say unto Christ.

There will be no need to be afraid there at that moment

for those who already bear in their breast the best of signs,

yet every soul ought to seek through the Rood

the holy realm from the ways of earth—

those who intend to dwell with their Sovereign.” (110-21)

I prayed to that tree with a blissful heart,

great courage, where I was alone,

with a meager host. My heart’s close was

eager for the forth-way, suffering many

moments of longing. Now my hope for life

is that I am allowed to seek that victorious tree,

more often lonely than all other men,

to worthy it well. The desire to do so

is strong in my heart, and my guardian

is righteous in the Rood. I am not wealthy

with many friends on this earth,

yet they departed from here from the joys of the world,

seeking the King of Glory—now they live

in heaven with the High-Father, dwelling in magnificence,

and I hope for myself upon each and every day

for that moment when the Rood of the Lord,

that I espied here upon the earth,

shall ferry me from this loaned life

and bring me then where there is great bliss,

joys in heaven, where there are the people of the Lord,

seated at the feast, where there is everlasting happiness

and seat me where I will be allowed afterwards

to dwell in glory, brooking joys well amid the sainted.

May the Lord be my friend, who suffered before

here on earth, on the gallows-tree for the sins of man. (122-46)

He redeemed us and gave us life,

a heavenly home. Hope was renewed

with buds and with bliss for those suffered the burning.

The Son was victory-fast upon his journey,

powerful and able, when he came with his multitudes,

the army of souls, into the realm of God,

the Almighty Ruler, as a bliss for the angels

and all of the holy, those who dwelt in glory

before in heaven, when their Sovereign came back,

Almighty God, to where his homeland was. (147-56)

https://oldenglishpoetry.camden.rutgers.edu/dream-of-the-rood/

in the boat

In the name of God, source of all being, eternal Word, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

This morning our readings present us with a choice: stay at home and have it rain on you, or get in a boat and have it rain on you. (Of course, if you take the book, you have to round up a bunch of farm animals.) It is a Pacific Northwest kind of choice.

The readings also present us with an opportunity: to take God at his word, and, even as we do the best we can to face the challenges of our situation, to trust that the providence of God is what will really see us through.

Even while all the creatures of the earth were being destroyed around him, as Michael Sweeney points out, Noah was faithful. His faith was steadfast.

Jesus uses the image of a house in a storm to talk about faith and works. To hear the word and then act upon it is to live in a strong house built on rock. If you listen but then just go on as if you had not learned anything, it all fades away like sand into a storm wave.

This is how learning really happens: there is a herald, an announcement, that glad tidings are on the way – as John the Baptist proclaimed the coming of the Kingdom. Then there is the message, preached and understood. Jesus spoke in parables; he told us, “I am the bread of life.”

Then there is action based on what you have heard. This seals it: this takes the temporary memory and makes it permanent in your mind.

“Go and make disciples of all nations, and teach them all I have commanded.”

“Love one another, as I have loved you.”

These are not just good advice, or high-sounding words: they are the breath of life. To those who hear and do what Jesus teaches his words are transformative.

They take us out of our ordinary choices – to face the storm at home or risk the perils of the sea – and make them extraordinary, make them part of our preparation for and entering into the kingdom of God.

Last Thursday evening, Eric Hanson conducted the Thalia Symphony orchestra in music by three different composers, all from Bohemia, or Czech: One began with a stable job but lost his tenure and for the rest of his life moved around. The second was an itinerant conductor, a wanderer from place to place. The third was a man separated from his homeland by political conditions: his true homeland was a free Czech republic, but in his time it was a province of the Austrian Empire.

One of them was in exile in another sense: born Jewish in a world where Jews were, under a veneer of civility, second-class citizens. Their true homeland was elsewhere.

So is ours, isn’t it? Our true homeland is to be in the realm where God reigns. But are we truly lost? No, if we listen to the words of what Jesus is saying, and put them into practice, we are beginning to come into that very country. We are beginning to come home. If you trust in God and obey his commandments, you are never truly lost: you are always at home.

There are five great prophets in the teaching of Islam: Adam, Noah, Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad. Blessings and peace be upon them all. …Noah?

Noah was righteous; to be righteous means to be in a trusting and loyal relationship with God. Noah walked with God; to walk with God means to obey and follow God’s will.

For Noah, the rains were coming. And, in obedience to God, Noah built an ark. An ark is a chest, a box, a basket – a container for life & living things – and this is the same word used for the basket, sealed with pitch, that saved Moses from death by exposure. The ark of Noah contained life, and the hope of the world. The Ark of the Covenant – a box or chest or basket – contained the words of life, the words of the promise of God. The words of Jesus contain the source of life. And this life of all that is past is what we recover as we celebrate together as a community of faith in the Lord’s Supper.

As we gather together this morning for Eucharist, let us take a moment to examine our hearts: what needs to go on the boat? What must we leave behind? What will carry us into the future of God’s promise? And what will we do – not to save ourselves – but to live into the righteous life of God’s people, to live by faith? Let us pray:

God, as we journey through this life, we journey home to you. And yet, you are the beginning and the end of our journey, and you see us through, walking with us on the way. Guide us, today, on your paths, for your name’s sake. Amen.


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The Access Bible (Oxford University Press, 1999) p. 10-13.