Hope in the Middle of the Night

 Rev. Molly F. James, Ph.D.

Chapel of Our Lord

October 22, 2024

Eph. 2:11-22; Psalm 85:8-13; Luke 12:35-38

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

‘Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit.’ Really, God? Really? Haven’t you noticed we are anxious and tired? I really could use a good night’s sleep, and maybe an extra nap to boot. Trying be a good parent, a good priest, a good Christian, a good human, all while perennially being inundated with news headlines about war and rocket attacks here, fire and hurricane and flooding there, plus the systemic realities of poverty and racism and gun violence - it’s exhausting. And there is so much anxiety around us about what is going to happen in our country in the coming weeks. God, could we please have a day off? Or maybe we could just take a nap and you could wake us up when the world is safer and more stable? 

Of course it would be easy to be weighed down by this passage, especially if we are feeling worn out. And then there is repeated use of the word “slave.” A word that is historically and theologically laden. A word that ought to make us shudder and wish we could banish its reality for our vocabulary and the world. And yet we know that as much progress we may have made in the political world with constitutional rights and voting acts, the dreamed for reality of equality for all people is not realized. And human slavery still happens across the world in far more hidden ways today. Oh my, there is so much heaviness in this chapter. 

God, I am still wanting that nap. Oh wait, you are saying it wouldn’t be very Christian of me to just curl up and ignore the realities of the world? Oh wait, there might be more to this all if I keep reading? Oh, you mean I shouldn’t just jump to my own conclusions and simply reinforce my own ideas and feelings. There might be some value in staying open and curious? Hmmm. Okay, I’ll keep reading. 

Okay, so there is something about being blessed if we stay awake and alert. Note, actually I did what I often do when I am struggling with a passage - I went to read the Message version. I am glad I did. It offered a very helpful perspective:  “Lucky the servants whom the master finds on watch! He’ll put on an apron, sit them at the table, and serve them a meal, sharing his wedding feast with them. It doesn’t matter what time of the night he arrives; they’re awake—and so blessed!’” As usual Eugene Peterson has made the passage come alive. Imagine waiting up into the dark of night only to have the leader return, full of joy and grace, and willing to make a meal for us? That really does change things doesn’t? And not just because you all know I love a good meal!

The end of this passage changes everything. It puts the stress of the beginning in a whole new light. Maybe God is simply acknowledging the harshness of the current realities. And reminding us sometimes it is literally or figuratively the middle of the night, and we are anxious and trying to keep busy. Then what? Well, actually if we can stay awake, if we can do our part, if we can have faith and trust in God and those around us, there is tremendous hope. 

Because guess what? God does not leave us alone with our thoughts and our anxieties. God is present. In fact, God is present with us to offer joy and sustenance to get us through until morning. Now, it may not always come in the literal form of a feast cooked for us, although I would certainly love that! It will come in the form of joys and blessings that will sustain us through our challenges. And here’s the thing. They are there. In beautiful warm sunshine, in the smile and the presence of a friend, in an expected piece of good news, in the opportunity to do work that brings us joy, in the gift of gathering together in this space for worship, in the simple joy of time to savor a cup of coffee or a favorite treat. We just have to open our eyes, we have to stay alert to them. 

So, my friends, I hope in the midst of all the challenges in our lives and in the world, we can hold on to the hope and the sustaining truth of this passage. Things may seem dark at the present moment, but we are never alone. And if we stay alert, we will continue to be surprised by the blessings - small and large- that come our way. Amen. 

Advent: Waiting and Preparation

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

Monday, November 29, 2021

Psalm 122; Isaiah 2:1-5; Matthew 8:5-13

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Well, my friends it is Advent. It is that season of waiting. Waiting for the light. Waiting for Jesus. Waiting for that quietness described in our psalm. Waiting for healing like the centurion’s servant in our Gospel reading. Waiting for the realization of Isaiah’s prophecy that swords will be beaten into plowshares and no one will learn war any more. 

Our world is waiting. Waiting for a day when we can be less afraid of the headlines. Waiting for case numbers and death tolls to go down. Waiting for justice to be realized. Waiting for the day when we won’t all feel so exhausted and worn out. And that’s just the global waiting. No doubt we have our own versions of Advent. We are waiting in our personal lives for a change to be realized or a milestone achieved. The waiting is pervasive. And it can certainly be anxiety provoking. Waiting on its own can seem passive. As though we have lost our agency or our influence. As though whether or not anything changes or is realized is all up to external forces and the winds of chance. Blessedly, it is not. 

It is indeed true that there is much that is beyond our control. We cannot simply snap our fingers and make a sick friend well or bring the prophecy of Isaiah to fruition. And yet it would be a grave mistake to think that we are powerless in the face of all the challenges we face, individually or collectively. 

We must also remember that Advent is a season of preparation. There is indeed much we can do. We can be a light in the midst of darkness. Our presence, our work, our relationships matter. We do and can have an impact far larger than we often give ourselves credit for in day to day life. 

I have been listening to a book by British Organisational Psychologist John Amaeci called The Promises of Giants. It is a book about leadership, but it is markedly different from so many other books about leadership. It starts with the premise that we can “win” and “lead” wherever we are in life or in an organization. It also starts with the idea that our impact is enormous. We all are and have the capacity to be “giants” to others. I have found the book to be funny, engaging, and full of valuable insights. At first, John’s belief about the enormity of our impact was hard to hear. Did that mean we have to be over vigilant and second-guessing everything? By no means. Rather John reminds us that our impact, our ability to enact real change in ourselves, our communities, and the world is not about splashy moments that make headlines (although those certainly can have a profound impact). Most change happens through discipline and hard work. It happens because we set audacious goals and strive to achieve them. It happens when we are willing to do the day to day work that is often behind the scenes and unglamorous. It happens when we hold ourselves and each other accountable to inspiring standards. We have a profound impact because of who we are and the habits we have. Because of how we move through the world. We are indeed powerful, and it is up to us to decide how we use that power.

In the midst of this season of waiting, in the midst of all the challenges, it could be easy to give into fear or to buy into that critical voice that says that what we do doesn’t really matter. I hope that this Advent we will do neither. I hope we will pay careful attention to all the ways that light and love are alive in the world. All the ways in which the kingdom is breaking in. And I hope we will feel energized and inspired to be reminded that God is Emmanuel, God is with us. The Christ light is within each of us. We can indeed bring the light into the world. Together, with God, with each other, transformation is possible. Amen. 

Waiting and Acting

 

The Boule

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Chapel via Zoom

Commemoration of James De Koven, March 22, 2021

Psalm 84:7-12; 2 Timothy 2:10-15; Matthew 13:31-33

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

I think you all know I love to cook, I especially love to bake. I think you also know that I like accomplishing things, and if I can do so quickly then all the better. Being an achievement oriented person whose life experience taught her at a young age that life is short, means that ideally I would like to have everything done yesterday. I am not good at sitting and contemplating. I am not good at waiting. 

So this means that making bread is a spiritual discipline for me. Especially with our favorite bread recipe, is an amazing no-knead bread recipe. It requires very little labor, just a lot of planning. It is remarkably simple, and remarkably similar to what is described in our Gospel reading today. You mix together flour, yeast, salt and water in a bowl. And you leave it be for 18 hours. After that you fold it over and form it into a ball. Leave it for another two hours. Then you bake it in a preheated dutch oven with the lid on. You remove the lid for the last 15 minutes. The result is an amazing crusty boule with a soft and chewy inside. This recipe creates the kind of hearty, delicious bread that makes you begin to imagine that it might actually be possible to live on bread alone - particularly if you have some nice olive oil and a delicious cheese to go with it. 

But you can only achieve that delicious result, if you follow the recipe. Waiting is the central and essential act of this bread recipe. It cannot be rushed. There are no shortcuts, no way of speeding it up. I have to have patience and faith. I think that is why bread is such a prominent feature in Scriptures and our faith life. Bread is a staple food, but it is not an instant food. It can fill us up and sustain us, but only if we have the patience and faith required to transform its simple ingredients into a food we can eat. 

This theme of waiting resonates with me this week. We are waiting. The world is waiting. For things to change. For enough of us to be vaccinated. To travel. To see and hug the people we love. To feel safe in a group of people again. We are waiting for transformation. 

But I think it is important to nuance the theme of waiting, while the bread recipe does require a lot of waiting, it is not without active participation. Without making the dough, and doing the baking, there would be no bread. A transformed world is not something we just passively wait for. We wear our masks. We get our shots. We love our neighbors. We speak out against horrific acts of hate and violence like those in Atlanta last week. We who are in positions of power and privilege keep learning, keep acting, keep doing our part to dismantle our culture of white supremacy. 

The change we long for is coming, and we can be a part of making it happen. Perhaps one of the lessons we can take from this pandemic is the ways in which small actions can have a huge impact, especially when we act together. If a few of us wash our hands and wear our masks, nothing would change. The more who do, the greater the effect. What else might we do? What other small sacrifices on our part would ripple out far beyond our own communities? As the world reopens and we return to old habits, may we not forget how deeply interconnected our lives are. 

And may we also have patience and faith in the midst of it all. Action is essential. Sometimes the action is urgent. If you don’t take the bread out of the oven when the timer goes off, it will burn. The realities of injustice are life and death realities in this country. 

On the other hand, if we tried to open the world too quickly, we would risk further harm. We need to be wise and discerning. Sometimes we need to act. Sometimes we need to have more patience. Patience is hard. Is this goopy, sticky dough we have in front of us ever going to turn into something delicious and beautiful? 

And yet. When we can have faith, when we can have patience. When we can trust that God is at work in ways we cannot even see or imagine, change happens. Transformation happens. We get to join God in creating something amazing, beautiful, and sustaining from the sticky mess in the mixing bowl. The waiting is worth it. The work is worth it.

As we work and as we wait, may we always remember that Jesus is indeed the Bread of Life. He is that which sustains us through the deserts and the challenging times. He is the source of wisdom and insight. He is the one whose presence gives our feasts of celebration a greater depth of joy. He is the one who inspires us to live lives that embody grace, generosity and gratitude. 

AMEN. 

Ease and security in the midst of chaos

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom

Commemoration of Nicholas Ferrar

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Our text from Proverbs today closes with these lines . . . “but those who listen to me will be secure and will live at ease, without dread of disaster.’” Those lines got me thinking. Will be secure and will live at ease. Ooh. That sounds wonderful. Especially today. There is much that is weighing on our hearts and souls these days. It might be challenges in our own lives, our own families, or our communities. Or perhaps it is just the sheer volume of heart wrenching news headlines that come at us. A global pandemic. Oh, and it is the holiday season, which can come with its own set of complicated family dynamics and challenging memories to navigate. 

At first, those lines make me want to know where I find that magical elixir. Where is the way forward that does not have so many challenges? That life, that one that looks like a permanent vacation on a tropical island. Where do I find that? 

But then I catch myself. I catch my magical thinking. I catch my wishing for something that I know is impossible. A life free from suffering. Proverbs is not giving us the recipe for a life free from suffering, it is offering us an invitation to find peace and security, to find ease and comfort in the midst of challenges. 

While I think it is right and meet to be wishing and working for the outside circumstances to be different. I am inordinately grateful for all of the ways and all of the people who are doing that. All the hard work that is happening - particularly by medical and scientific professionals to bring healing and relief. We can and should do much to alleviate unnecessary suffering - from illness, from injustice. 

And we cannot and will not eliminate everything. So, we have the invitation to find peace and comfort in the midst of it all. I think this means having practices that help us stay grounded and connected to God. It can be tempting to think this means we have to be like Nicholas Ferrar whom we remember today. That we have to found a new religious community and try to pray without ceasing. I am sure most of us are too exhausted to even begin to contemplate that, let alone attempt it. 

This is when I find it helpful to remember that with the right mindset, much of our daily life can be prayer. Prayer is not limited to being on our knees in the right place with the right words. We can live prayerfully wherever we are, whatever we are doing.

A number of years ago, I read a book that I continue to go back to when I am struggling with prayer or feeling like I am “failing” at spiritual practices. The book is called Sabbath in the Suburbs. It is written by Mary Ann McKibben Dana, a Presbyterian Pastor who lives in suburban DC. She and her engineer husband have three kids in elementary and middle school. They undertake the goal of practicing a sabbath every week for a year. They choose Saturdays because that is the only common day off. The book chronicles their efforts. There is a moment from the chapter on Advent that has stayed with me. Mary Ann looks at her combined to do list of church and family tasks and realizes that a full on sabbath where you stay home and really rest is just not possible that day. So, she decides she is going to go through her task list “sabbathly.” Mary Ann reminds us that it is our attitude, our disposition that matters. Real life happens. We are not always able to live up to the lofty goals we set for our own spiritual journeys. But the realities of life do not mean we have to beat ourselves up for failure. We can simply adjust our mindset and seek to carry the spirit of sabbath with us. If our mindset is in the right place, even our tasks can be prayer.

We can honor the legacy of Nicholas, a legacy of prayer and devotion. We can discover what it means to find security and ease. Not because the world has somehow dramatically changed around us, but because we have changed. The transformation has happened in our hearts and minds. Even in the midst of whatever crises and challenges we may face, we will know that peace of God, because we have kept ourselves grounded and connected to God and to the practices that restore our souls. AMEN.