Good Shepherds and Midwives

 

In the work I do, I live for the moments which offer me hope. Thankfully, tiny glimmers of hope are offered frequently. The past month or more, it has been difficult simply because there is so much anxiety. Whether it is caused by food insecurity, violence, drugs, politics – everyone seems to be on a razor-sharp edge.

But then this week, this happened.

A young man came into Pantry. I remembered him because he has an unusual name. The odd thing was that he gave another name to the registrar. He said his name was William Thomas. I called him by his real name and asked him if he needed emergency food because he had just been in a few days before. We worked out the details of what he needed and went our separate ways.

Later, I saw him outside, so I went to talk to him. We started talking about the current drug scene, relapses, chances of recovery or dying. We shared a few sad stories.

Unfortunately, it is a story that many have told.  He is addicted to fentanyl; his life has blown up, and he wants to quit. He asked me to pray for him, so I did. The good news is that he has a May 5th date to enter rehab. The scary news is that between now and May 5th could be a lifetime. It is so easy to die.

It happened that at the next Pantry two days later, Tony, a guy who works with a Harm Reduction group, unexpectedly came in. I told him about the young man and asked if he could offer any help. And because this is just how the Holy Spirit works, in walks the young man. I introduced him to Tony, and they talked for a while and made some plans. As the young man was leaving, he hugged me and said, “I don’t know why you love me, but I know you do.” He then said, “I won’t let you down.” I reminded him that this isn’t about me; rather, this is all about him. He agreed and gave me another big hug and said, “I won’t let ME down.” I don’t know if he will keep the appointment with Tony but the desire to do so is where the hope lives.

Later a friend of mine posted a quote on Facebook that resonated with the way I felt about this moment:

“As followers of Christ, we are called to be midwives of the new creation, not gatekeepers of the old one.” To act as a midwife is to be the intermediary that waits and watches as another labors, to hold onto hope as it is born and then to share in the excitement as hope is being realized. I know that this young man has a very hard and dangerous road ahead of him, but I must say, this encounter left me feeling as though I had helped midwife a new birth of hope, both in him and in me.

He trusted me with his story because I listened, because I shared with him my own sacred story, and because he believed my love. He trusted that love.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about trust. Individually and culturally, we are taught not to trust others. We are taught that others must earn our trust and they do this by doing what we believe is the right thing to do. It recently occurred to me that is not the way that Jesus did it.

Trust is a funny thing. I remember too clearly telling one or more of the many children I helped raise that they had broken my rule (aka my trust) and that they would have to earn it back.

How many times have you heard someone say or maybe you even said, “I should never have trusted them.”

When we say that we trust someone, it means that we believe they will not hurt us. If they do hurt us, we withdraw our emotions to protect ourselves from being hurt again. There are moments of broken trust even in good relationships. Recovery of that brokenness is based upon how much we open ourselves to forgiving, to working through the hurt, to being vulnerable, or trusting ourselves not to inflict hurt upon another again.

If we attempt to BE trustworthy rather than thinking we need to trust someone, what difference would that make? If there was no level of reciprocity, that our desire was only to be trusted, what might that change?

I think that being a midwife must be a bit like being a good shepherd. At least, in watching Call the Midwife, the midwives are more concerned for the well-being of their patients, both the mother and the new baby. They are that calm presence.

The sheep hear their shepherd's voice. They know that voice. They trust the shepherd because she takes care of them, being there when they need her, making sure they have food and water, that they are as safe as possible.

The shepherd carries a crook because sheep do not always do as the shepherd wants. The crook is used to help the wayward sheep back into the fold, to rescue a sheep that has fallen, or even to ward off predators. The shepherd cares for them steadfastly, unconditionally with no judgment for the one that strays off.

A shepherd puts the needs of the flock before self. The shepherd’s interest is only for the safety and well being of the sheep.

We do not need to be the Gatekeeper. That job is already taken and it is not ours. Yet, what if we become a good shepherd in our own lives? What if our purpose is the wellbeing and safety of others rather than expecting them to earn our trust or to live up to our expectations of how they should act?

Our world today is packed with thieves and bandits – false leaders – in corporations, in politics, in government, in our churches, all causing us to distrust. Too many are there for profits first and collateral damage does not matter. The collateral damage equals all those whose lives have been altered due to gun or drug violence, environmental injustice, poverty, and all the “isms” used by oppressive factions to control the majority. The whims of a few determine the fate of many.

In the Acts of the Apostles it is written, “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.”

We are called into community, into like minds, with our hearts set on God, caring for all whatever the need.  Just like the Apostles –

– Spending time together praying, breaking bread together, in all things possessing glad and generous hearts, always praising God, and having the goodwill of all the people as our work.

And as they did these things, “ … day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.”

Jesus “came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” 

Abundant Life is the opposite of society’s status quo. When the status quo supports oppression, the peacemaker is called to challenge it. Jesus challenges the status quo continually as should we as followers of Jesus.

We as a people born into a capitalistic nation have forgotten that we are a part of God’s creation. In this greedy dog eat dog, I-me-mine world where to win is profit and to profit is to win, competition is about being better, smarter, faster than the others in the contest. Theologically, we focus on what we perceive to be another person’s sin or lack more than we do the abundance of God’s love for all, for any who have need.

As a result, we treat the gifts of one another and this earth as less than sacred. We do not trust one another to love the way God loves us. ... For God so loved the world … In fact, most of us are quite certain that the fellow next to us does not care at all about us much less love us. Truth be told, most of us probably feel the same. I doubt that people in Jesus’ time trusted one another anymore than we do. Yet, that has always been Jesus’ message. Love.

Jesus didn’t ask people to trust him. He didn’t tell people that he trusted them. He simply trusted and shared God’s love and continued to talk about that love.

Jesus did not come to set rules and regulations for us to follow or else be thrown into hell fire. Jesus came to show us how to be liberated, how to free ourselves from the oppression, and that to trust in the love and faith of God alone is the only thing necessary. With this, all other things fall into place.

Faith is our spiritual understanding that God exists and is with us always. Faith leads to Trust. It is in God’s love that trust is born. If we believe that God’s love is steadfast, unconditional, always with us, all that matters is that love. It is not something we earn; it is through God’s grace that Love is always there. We don’t earn love and we don’t earn trust. We simply love and we simply trust.

We do not have to know or understand why God loves us. We just need to know that God does love us, each of us, everyone of us, steadfastly, unconditionally, just because that is why we are here. Love. It is all there is.

It is in that love that we become midwives or good shepherds of a new creation born in love to be loved and to love in turn.

Amen.

This Land is NOT "our" Land

Offered at St. Paul's Episcopal Church St Louis on the 25^th Sunday after Pentecost November 14, 2021                                                                                                          

In 1990 President George H. W. Bush declared November as Native American Heritage Month. Just like Women’s History, Black History, Pride, and many more, these designations are meant to bring attention to those groups of people who have suffered from indignities and prejudices. It is to offer us a new perspective. So it is today an opportunity to see from a different view.

The way Indigenous people have been and are treated is the first of many United States of America horror stories that show how race determines who is considered less human and therefore expendable. The transgressions against the native people who first lived with the lands and the settlers who took the land is just beginning to be truthfully explored.

Richard Rohr's Meditation “Living with the Land” speaks to the differences in how the Settlers and the Indigenous people saw the land. I am paraphrasing some of his words today.

Most Christians in the Western World have been shaped by a culture and faith that tells us that land acquisition is a normal thing regardless of the cost to others, ourselves, or to the land itself. God made humans stewards of creation therefore it is ours to use. Rohr writes “… our lack of attention to the Christ Mystery can be seen in the way we continue to pollute and ravage Planet Earth, the very thing we all stand on and live from.” Our relationship with the land is in direct correlation to our lack of respect for one other.

Theologian, scholar, and Cherokee descendant Randy Woodley points out that the land itself meant something quite different to those who settled it than it did to those who first lived here. The failure of the settlers to tread lightly, with humility and respect, for the land was the problem. The settlers lived on the land, taking what they wanted when they wanted it regardless of what might be needed in the future. The native people lived with the land, always respecting the natural balance, never taking more than was necessary. It was a sacred understanding.

This is important because this land we are on – actually, not only the land that Saint Louis is on but the broad expanse of land from the Ohio River Valley west to the Red River – is the ancestral lands of the Osage Nation. The Osage history is important to the history of Missouri.

In a 2014 PBS special, Osage Elder Eddy Red Eagle Jr., Drum Keeper and Osage history, cultural, and spirituality expert talked about when the French and French-Canadians arrived in this area of Saint Louis. They “had very little money but they had intelligence, and a strong family life, communal life.” This meant a good deal to the Osage because they had common intentions. Not only did they trade together, but old Cathedral records show that there was intermarriage and that leaders of both groups supported their mutual grandchildren. They were community.

The Louisiana Purchase in 1803 changed everything.

As we all know, the US government regarded Native Americans as “savages”, fully expendable, and moved them from their ancestral homelands whenever more land was wanted. In addition to the forced migration, epidemics of European illnesses ravaged Native American populations. In 1808, to maintain peace and care for their people, Osage leaders handed over their Missouri lands and hunting grounds to the U.S. government at the Fort Osage Treaty.

A little bit of history: We all know of Cahokia Mounds in Illinois. Yet, did you know that the area of St Louis was home to at least 25 mounds, 14 of which were in the area we know as the Great Basin?

The purpose of these mounds is varied yet all were considered sacred. Many tribes consider the mounds as symbols of Mother Earth, the giver of life, the womb from which humanity emerged and was formed.

A November 8 article in the St Louis Post Dispatch gives a history of the mounds. There were 25 mounds from Biddle Street to Mound Street east of Broadway and north of today’s Laclede Landing. Big Mound was the largest. It was north of downtown on the rise overlooking the Mississippi River. It was 319 feet long, 158 feet wide, and 34 feet high.

Although archaeologists determined that these mounds were built between 1000 and 1450 AD, between 1830 and 1869, all those north of downtown were removed. Any evidence of previous lives inside of the mounds were unceremoniously discarded. A quote as Big Mound was being destroyed: “Men are digging on every side. And what should have been purchased by the city and preserved inviolate will soon be known only in location tradition.” While there were some objectors, they were overwhelmed by what the St Louis Dispatch called “the grasping money-making spirit of our age.”

Sugar Loaf Mound, which stands at 4420 Ohio Avenue less than two miles from St. Paul’s, is the last sacred mound. The Osage Nation was able to purchase the top half of the mound a few years ago. The bottom portion of the mound is owned by someone who is still living in the home that sits at the base of the mound.

Due to misinformation, false histories, and glorified tales meant to embellish the idea of Americana, we are woefully ignorant of what has been. Were it not for the recent discovery of unmarked graves of native children in Catholic and Anglican Indian Boarding Schools in Canada, the traumas endured by indigenous people of North America might remain unknown. Presiding Bishop Curry and House of Deputies President Jennings have called for a full understanding of what happened in the Episcopal Indian Boarding Schools. There remains much to be learned both in Canada and those US schools.

The discovery and opening of the graves in Canada are ongoing tragedies, a catastrophic loss of a generation of children who were removed from their families, mistreated by the Church, traumatized and abused by those who were in charge, and then, too many, dying and hidden in unmarked graves. Those families who lost these children or those who survived the trauma of the schools and deculturation of indigenous traits continue to feel the pain today.

Carlisle Indian Industrial School in Carlisle, Pennsylvania opened in 1879 as the first government run boarding school for Native American children. They had a motto – Kill the Indian Save the Man; meaning, strip the native children from their culture and language, replace it with “Christian” values and they stood a possible chance of become good American citizens.

The values that the Catholic, Anglican, and Episcopal schools were attempting to erase from the Indigenous children are those same values that will save this creation – living with the land in respect, humility and using only what is necessary, understanding that all of these speak to the sacred nature of God’s Creation.

How do we begin to talk about reparations for these sins?

Stolen lands and children, genocide, desecrated graves, ancestral bones placed in museums, sacred lands turned into golf courses and pathways for oil and gas pipelines, water poisoned, mounds destroyed — these are just some of the sins committed, not only by the settlers of North America but continuing today.

These sins belong to each one of us, just as the sins against those African peoples who were stolen from their countries and enslaved for labor and used as a resource for future labor. It does not matter that none of us here today were there. We would love to tell ourselves that we would be different, do differently. Yet, today, in this world where we decry such sins, how do we contribute to the existing empire and that dominate culture that makes poverty a crime and rewards the richest?

At all Diocesan events, it is now proclaimed:

“We respectfully recognize and acknowledge that we are on traditional, ancestral lands of the Osage Nation. The process of acknowledging the land we stand on is a way of accepting our complicity in a process of colonization that removed the Osage people from their ancestral lands. We also make this acknowledgment to affirm our commitment to stand with indigenous communities today as they seek justice and resist continued threats to their sovereignty and humanity.”

This is an important statement because first and foremost, statements such as this were requested by Native American tribes as an acknowledgment of stolen lands. Secondly, this diocesan statement goes beyond acknowledgement and calls for more action.

I recently read John Philip Newell’s book Sacred Earth Sacred Soul and it lays out so clearly so many instances when the Church has contributed to the empire.

Nadia Bolz-Weber said, “People don’t leave Christianity because they stop believing in the teachings of Jesus … [they] leave … because they believe in the teachings of Jesus so much, they can’t stomach being part of an institution that claims to be about that and clearly isn’t.”

The idea that one race of people could envision themselves as being chosen by God to expand across North America, converting or killing anyone who stood in the way is an extreme example of egoism – their self-interest was the foundation of their morality. That is a flawed ideology that continues today.

We cannot talk about the sins against humanity without understanding the scope of the damage to not just those who were first on this land 400 plus years ago but those who exist in our nation and throughout the world today whose lives are being destroyed by human caused climate disaster

And

not just those who were kidnapped and sold into slavery but those who continue to suffer from environmental racism here in this city, state, and nation.

These sins continue. And we cannot talk about the sins of humanity without trying to understand what this means to this creation – Creation meaning the WHOLE of us – ALL things that God created.

This is a much bigger conversation than can be had in this short space. Yet it must happen.

Jesus said, “This is but the beginnings of the birth pangs”. — What new thing will come from truth?

Truths:

1.) Our differences do not make us less than; rather, it enhances the indescribability of God’s diverse creation. Can we imagine only one type of bird? Only one type of tree?

2.) It doesn’t matter how much the stories of the wounded hurt us; we must hear these stories.

We are at a time in our lives where it feels that we are awaiting the Great Apocalypse. Some interpretations of the Revelation and by Hollywood tell us that an apocalypse means the end of time is near and it is the final destruction, a catastrophic event. Yet, theologically, in Greek, apocalypse means to uncover, disclose, reveal. What does our past reveal to us? What is being uncovered? What truth is there to learn?

That is what Jesus is doing today in Mark’s Gospel.

Jesus is unveiling a truth — once again he is telling us to pay attention. Do not be led astray by false prophets or fake news. None of it is important. Remember what we already know. Don’t worry about when all the great buildings will be thrown down or of earthquakes. God is making everything new, offering us new chances to be part of the renewal of all things. God did not make this mess we are now in but there is hope because we know God is always with us.

And what do we know about these sins of humanity against humanity? We know that loving God and loving our neighbor is not a rote saying. It is a life-line, a way of living. This is what First Nations people understand so clearly. It means respecting one another and all aspects of creation. It means that we take care of one another, not in spite of our differences but because of these. Diversity is a rule of creation. We need diversity. Living for one another is a rule of nature.

There must be acknowledgement and confession that a sin against one part of humanity happened because of another part. There must be conversation about reparation – WITH the people whose truths we need to hear. And it is only then that there can be reconciliation. And yes. There will be birthpangs yet what do we anticipate when a mother and child are feeling the pains of birth? We anticipate new life! God is still making all things new, just as in the beginning, is now and always will be. We are a part of that new thing – all of us.

Stay alert. Remember what we already know. Let go of false prophets and flawed ideologies. This is not about self – one very small part. It is about the whole of us – all that God created.

Live in the hope that God offers us in the making of all things new.

Amen.

https://www.senate.gov/artandhistory/history/common/generic/American_Indian_Heritage_Month.htm#:~:text=In%201990%20Congress%20passed%20and,as%20Native%20American%20Indian%20Month).

https://cac.org/living-with-the-land-2021-10-20/

https://news.stlpublicradio.org/arts/2014-03-31/osage-nation-leaders-help-explain-st-louis-earliest-days

https://carlisleindianschoolproject.com/#:~:text=Carlisle%20Indian%20Industrial%20School%20in,Indian%2C%20Save%20the%20Man.%E2%80%9D

https://theblackwallsttimes.com/2020/09/15/the-black-church-a-day-late-and-a-dollar-short/

Sermon offered at St. Paul's Carondelet, Proper 15, Year A

Can you begin to imagine being despised so much that your own brothers would throw you into a pit with the thought of killing you? Or that you could be sold into slavery because of that fear, jealousy, hatred?

Joseph was obviously a very special person because throughout his ordeal, he kept his faith, his belief that all things would be well, eventually. Regardless of how dire the immediate moment appeared, there remained a faith that God was always with him. And he, of course, was right. Joseph’s dreams had shown him the bigger picture. Anger or retaliation against his brothers had no place in the end. His brothers were simply a vehicle to get him started on his journey. He had a job to do and those things he went through were simply a part of it.

Matthew’s gospel reading has the Pharisees and scribes criticizing the disciples because they did not wash their hands before they ate. This was not because they were concerned about germs; it was about the purity laws.

Purity symbolizes holiness. The Jews believed that God was holy and pure and people were not naturally so. The purpose for the laws was to give them a starting point, a way to learn how to be pure for God, a rule book, if you will. It was to guide them, to get them started on their journey towards God.

Jesus said that it is not what goes into the mouth that makes a person unclean.

Jesus told the critics that they were hypocrites, honoring God with their lips but their hearts were far away. Their actions and their words did not match. Jesus was trying to tell them that they were too focused on human rules. Human rules/laws are often tools used for exclusion.

Jesus said what comes out of the mouth comes from the heart. The words we use are important. These tell others what kind of a person we are – through and through. As people speak, they give hints into their inner most thoughts.

We know the big things that make us unclean – murder, violence, and all crimes against other humans. We know the rules. Break these rules and we can go to prison – some of us far easier than others. However, just because we don’t kill or maim others does not mean that our hearts are pure.

It is not what we eat or unwashed hands that makes us unclean. Our words…our actions defile us. Words of hate, actions of violence…these things make us unclean.

There has been an urgency in the gospel parables over the past few weeks. Jesus is on a mission, trying to help the Jews and the disciples understand that life as they know it is about to change dramatically.

His message is about Transformation. The way of life as they know it being turned upside down and all around. Sowing seeds of the kingdom so that it grows and flourishes. Hiding yeast in the midst of life so that there is disruption of all that is known.

Human rules trap us into thinking that change is not a good thing. And that causes fear. Fear causes us to hold on tight to those things we know. Love is sacrificed for the sake of remaining the same.

There is an urgency in our lives today as well. I believe that is what happened this past week in Charlottesville. The White Supremists do not understand that God’s love is big enough for all of us, that the Word is for all of us, regardless of how we worship, the color of our skin, our gender identity, our marriages. God’s love is bigger than our human imaginations.

Jesus is the change.

Jesus is the remedy to the ills that inflict humans. His death, resurrection and gift of the Spirit deals with the wickedness that taints humans. Purity laws are unnecessary.

Jesus as the remedy has to be applied to the dis-ease deep inside us so that we can understand the idea of being pure in God – through and through.

There is an ugly stain that runs throughout the history of humans. 

Babylonians, Greeks, Romans.

Native Americans. Slavery of Africans. 

Turkish massacre of Armenians. 

Nazis and Jews. Japanese Americans. 

South Africa and apartheid. 

Rwanda. Bosnia and Croatia.

Mexicans/South Americans, Muslims, the Sudan.

Ethnic Cleansing -- a term that is relatively new although the practice is old. The definition is this: an attempt by one ethnic group to get rid of members of an unwanted ethnic group by deportation, displacement or mass killing. What is going on now in the US is Ethnic Cleansing. Do not be fooled. The deportation of those considered unworthy of being in the US. Families being split apart. Children brought to the US as babies yet deported to Mexico as young adults. I know people who have generations of family born in the US but carry their passports with them to prove their citizenship out of fear of being stopped and deported. The new rule is deport first, ask question later.

The White Nationalists hatred of Jews, Blacks, LGBT people – mainly, anyone different than how they perceive themselves to be. They see no humanity in those who are different from themselves – mainly white males. All others are just that – “Other”. Less than. Not worthy. Unwanted. Unnecessary. Violence is one answer to the elimination of these.

Our Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, calls it the “stain of bigotry.”

Marian Wright Edelman of the Children’s Defense Fund writes:

There are not two sides to Nazism. There are not two sides to White supremacism, bigotry, and racial and religious hatred and intolerance. Heather Heyer – a nonviolent protester against racial intolerance – is not as much at fault as the man who violently and deliberately hit and killed her with his car on a Charlottesville street.

The Jews considered Canaanites unclean. They did not observe the same rites. And here was this unclean woman chasing after Jesus, calling out to him, demanding that he do something for her. The disciples knew the rules. They wanted Jesus to tell her to go away.

But he didn’t. He stopped to listen. She came to him, begging him, calling him the Son of David, and saying, “my daughter is tormented by a demon.” 

Jesus knew his mission. To help the Jews understand that God was in the midst of fulfilling a promise. The Kingdom of Heaven was beginning and they needed to understand quickly that Jesus was that kingdom. It was important that the Jews hear this message first. So, Jesus tells the woman, “I am sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” The people of Israel were supposed to be the ones sharing the message…after they understood it. But she continued, believing so strongly that she knelt in front of him and said, “Lord, help me.” Jesus told her that it would not be fair to take the food from the children and give it to the dogs. Nevertheless, she persisted. She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

She understood so much more than the disciples or the people of Israel. She knew that Jesus was the messiah, the Son of David, the one that was promised was here. She already understood the Easter message and it had not even happened yet. This unclean woman knew. And Jesus recognized that. Great is your faith! He said. And her daughter was healed. He could have walked away. But he didn’t. Not only did he listen but he realized that she was right.

We get so caught up in rules – it is difficult for us to realize that the Kingdom of heaven has only two rules. Love God. Love one another.

Once upon a time, about 20 years ago, I was like this woman. I was at my wit’s end. I had nowhere to turn. In my office at work, I could not concentrate. I could not work. I could not even pray, at least not in the way I thought of prayer. In reality, my mind was desperately ranting at God, begging for help. My daughter was in trouble and I had no way of helping her. I did not even realize the extent of the problems that had hold of her. I knew only that she was in trouble. I picked up a little green Gideon’s Bible – I had no idea where it had come from but it was there. I randomly opened the little bible and it fell on this passage. Actually it could have been the Mark version, I don’t remember. Regardless, I realized as I read this random passage that I was being offered a vision into the future. A glimpse into the kingdom of heaven. I had no idea of what was to come or when it was coming but I knew that something had shifted just a little bit and I realized that there was change coming. And I also knew that it was good. Where there had been a hopelessness, a ray of hope had been illuminated.

I would like to tell of a miracle that happened that day and all manner of things were made well immediately but that, of course, reminds us that our time is not God’s time. It is a long journey from woundedness to healing and the scars run deep. But on that day, I saw something more than I had seen before. And I held on tightly to that vision. And the good news today is that my daughter is healing. And I am so proud of her.

I wonder if the Pharisees and disciples perceived a slight twist – a glimpse into the kingdom of heaven, a vision of things to come when Jesus talked about rules? or when the woman was talking? It was made more real in the Caananite woman’s life because she believed so strongly in that kingdom regardless of whether she had heard the message or not. She knew it in her heart and it came out in her words.

The theologian NT Wright writes:

“Being a Christian in the world today often focuses on the faith that badgers and harries God in prayer to do, now, already, what others are content to wait for in the future.” We cannot be content to wait.

We must continue to pray for a stop to the injustices of the world, the bigotry, the hatred because of “Otherness” - the color of skin or ethnicity or gender or religion, the wars, the violence. We pray that those who are afraid will be made well in their affliction. We pray that we will understand that Jesus came to change things, to disrupt our understanding of the here and now and to lead us into the kingdom of heaven. We pray that we will claim God’s promises today with a faith that will not be put off.

What little shift or twist do we feel in our lives that lead us to a new understanding that the Kingdom is here, now, today.  We have a role to play today in the midst of this unrest and dis-ease. The time for standing on the sidelines as spectators – if there was ever a time – is past. We are players in this kingdom of heaven. We are the hands and feet of Christ and there is a message to be delivered and love to share. We are being made new every day. We have all that we need to move forward.

I read a post on Facebook yesterday. It is actually a dismissal prayer; however, I think it fits as a beginning for this new day.

May God bless us with discomfort. Discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our heart.

May God bless us with anger. Anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless us with tears. Tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that we may reach out our hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

May God bless us with foolishness. Enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done.

As we gather at that table, ponder this: what new thing is God making for us and through us…and how will we respond?

Amen

Genesis 45:1-15Psalm 133Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32Matthew 15: (10-20), 21-28

The Saga of Jake and the Best Dogs Ever

We missed the “Best Dog Ever” so much.  She was only 2 months old when I rescued her from the Roanoke (TX) Humane Society.  Rude Dog was the first and the BDE above all others. She was mine and I was hers from the moment we saw one another. 

She got her name because she had a sensitive stomach and would turn the air hot and blue with her emissions. She started off life with the name of Priscilla. We were still searching for a good name for her when we felt/saw the first gas fog she emitted (until we finally found a food she could eat without killing us all). By that time, Rude (pronounced Rudie) had stuck. 

Rude was such an important part of our lives. I didn’t think I would ever have another dog I cared so much about. We had several other dogs and they were good and well loved but they were not Rude. I think it was the fact that she was half Newfoundland. That makes them special. Or it could have been because she went through some really hard times and she was always near me. We had her for 13 years.

A good while after we let her go, Debbie surprised me one day with a picture of this forlorn big dog standing in a corner with his sad face looking over his shoulder. He looked ashamed, as though he could not understand why his foster parents had sent him to this cell.

She showed me that picture and I knew he was waiting on us. So off we went to the Fort Worth Humane Society. I knelt in the middle of the floor and he came over to me and crawled up in my lap…as best he could. We all fell in love. All my Rude love came washing out of me and covered him up.

He was two when we got him. His face had not even filled out fully. He was a small Newf, weighing only 100 lbs at his best weight but shorter than average. He never did get much taller – just broader. He only looked like a full blood Newf after he turned five, after he broaden out some.

He traveled across the U.S. with us. Texas born and raised, he loved St. Louis and the snow. He loved being loved. He loved loving. I am sure he was far from perfect but I can’t remember anything negative. He was just the Best Dog Ever II.

And then he got sick. Ten is and was a good span of life for a Newfie. A full blood Newf may only live between 5-7 years. That is not very long at all for an animal so full of love and devotion.

So, it is probably easy to see why we wanted another big guy. But we didn’t want one like Jak because we didn’t want to compare. We should have known that each one of them is different from the other. Jak was nothing like Rude, except in the best way – their love of being loved and of loving.

One day, a picture of a brown Newf appeared on one of the Newfie rescue sites. We had to go see him. Brown was different and nothing like Black Jak. 

The foster people he was staying with had him in a barn stall. He was covered in thick fur mats and hay. And he was seventeen months old and wild. He had no collar nor leash training. His instinct was to get that noose from around his neck as quickly as possible and to fight with all his might. It took four adults to get him into our car. Once we got him home and up the back stairs (finally), he paced for 24 hours. He was exhausted but it was just too much.

Brushing, touching, talking, over the next couple of days finally calmed him down some. Then he got his first bath.

He was a different dog! Two six-week sessions of classes at obedience school (for us, not him) taught us how to help him understand what we wanted. He became as big of a love (actually about 40 pounds bigger) than Jak.

He came to us with the name of Zeus but 1) it didn’t fit him and 2) he did not respond to it in the least. Some might think that we named him Jake after Jak. But no. The State Farm commercial was playing at the time and Jake (from State Farm) just sort of stuck. Plus, when we called him Jake he looked at us.

We signed him up for the big dog wellness plan at Banfield (PetSmart). We got all the work done, fully intent upon making sure we took good care of this big guy. Sometime during the first few months of his acclimation, we realized how much he was drinking and peeing. We realized how much he was peeing because we would come home from work and through the living room, hallway, kitchen, dining room there would be a line of pee. Yep, he walks and pees. Not inside any more, thankfully.

Sigh.

Jake is the product of a breeder. He was raised in a large concrete outdoor kennel. His hair was bleached from the sun. I don’t know if the mats were from the breeder or the foster but he was a mess. Obviously, he had never been in a house before, nor had any training at all. When he had to pee, he did. Thank God, he likes corners away from everyone and thing to poop, otherwise, I suppose we would have found huge dog piles in the house.

We became much more diligent about taking the big guy outside. We monitored his water intake. Slowly, he began to understand. But he was still peeing literal rivers and drinking buckets of water. We asked the vet about it. I was worried about diabetes.

The results of all the tests (not covered under our wellness plan) showed that he already had damage to his kidneys. The diagnosis was Chronic Kidney Disease. The vet had us put him on a very expensive dog food. He ate it for a while. Then, suddenly, he stopped eating as much. We added pumpkin. That helped for a little while. Then, no. We added egg. That was better but then, he just stopped. He would walk up to the bowl, look at it, shake his head and back away. Then he would turn and go to his bed. He lost from 140 pounds to 117 in a short time.

The vet said keep on trying to feed him the prescription dog food. But Jake didn’t care what she said. What were we supposed to do? Just let him starve? She said he needed the low protein diet. She thought he was being stubborn. She just didn’t understand that he knew something she didn’t.

I began researching Chronic Kidney Disease in canines. There are a couple of good sites that offer help. However, I am not sure they fully understand either.

We tried several different recipes. We tried raw foods at first but he couldn’t digest those. So, we tried Raw turkey, sweet potato, and soft cooked egg. That worked for a while but he started tossing that up. The mess was easily identifiable. If the sweet potato was not cooked enough, it came back up. If the egg was cooked too much, up it came. And if the food was anywhere close to chilled, all of it came back up.

We tried the raw turkey, smushy cooked sweet potato, and raw egg. That worked but it certainly wasn’t putting any fat on him. He was bones and hair. He seemed to have plenty of energy though and he seemed happy. He was just incredibly thin. But he has been eating.

Yesterday, he had to be coaxed to eat. This morning, nothing. He would not, could not be convinced that eating was a good thing. I even went through all that soggy mess and picked out as much sweet potato as I could, thinking that maybe that was offending him. But he still was not interested. So, I offered him a small hunk of raw turkey by itself. He sniffed it and walked away.

So, here we are. The Saga of Jake and his quest to be a BDE. Maybe he will eat later today. Maybe he just doesn’t like the same old food every single day. Perhaps I will leave out the turkey tonight. Or the sweet potato.

Thankfully, we have two chow-hounds who will eat anything. Theo’s nickname is Hoover because he inhales food without even chewing. The Queen London thinks she should not be eating lowly dog food, anyway. So, it is good that the food won’t go to waste.

But meanwhile, Jake is wasting away. We worry about this big guy leaving us too soon. He is only three. That’s just too much dog to love in a short year and a half. We want more time of him being healthy and energetic. He hasn’t earned the BDE III award yet. But he is working on it. He just needs a little more time.  

Relentless as the Tide

Lent has always seemed to sneak up on me. But this year, one of my new year goals was to live more intentionally, more fully into the life of Jesus. I have, by no means, been totally successful. Yet, I must say, I have done a better job of it this year than any before. I actually made time to anticipate Lent. Music has played a large part in my prayer life. 

Two songs have been playing in my head over the past three weeks. One, as I stood at the edge of the Gulf with the waves tickling my toes, is "Breathe on me, Breath of God, fill me with life anew; that I may love what thou doest love and do what thou wouldst do." I felt the breath of God and I have held that feeling close in my heart over that last couple of weeks. 

The other song is "O love that will not let me go". 

I do not listen to "Christian" radio or even too many songs. A bit of Gospel Bluegrass now and again, or Willie Nelson and the Nelson Family doing Gospel large - that is about the extent of my listening to that type of music. Otherwise, I am much more into instrumental, Taize, or Gregorian chants. But  a few years ago, I searched for "peace" songs on Spotify. Several Chris Rice songs came up and I do listen to those. This past week, I have played "O love that will not let me go" so many times as to memorize it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s3OJ-V9U_Y8  

George Matheson (1842-1906) wrote the lyrics.

What attracted me initially was the guitar. Then I came to love the sound of Rice's voice - so soothing, so peaceful. It helped me de-stress and breathe properly. Recently, I began to pay attention to the words and came to realize how strongly these verses resonated with my own feelings. 

O Love that wilt not let me go,

I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

I feel as though I have wrestled with or run from God for most of my adult life. I told God so many times to leave me alone, let me be, yet, that Love hangs tenaciously, relentlessly, steadfastedly to the core of my being. 

That Love wore me out. It overcame deep wounds, scars, and fear. I stopped running, turned and fully faced the power of the Love that will not let me go. As a result, I realized that this life was never my own. I actually knew that as a child, but somewhere in the midst of young/middle adulthood, I lived in a false sense of self. I have offered this self that I thought was my own back to that Love to whom it has always belonged in hopes that the richness of my love will be fuller still. 

O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

That light that has shone through me has never been my own. It has always been God's Love shining through me. I know this now. That knowledge allows the light to shine all the brighter so that it is more clearly known to be from God alone.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

I have been blessed with the ability to feel joy, unbridled. My heart has leapt with a hope that is beyond my knowing. Sometimes, that joy comes in the midst of pain and I know...I know that all will be well. 

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

The Cross has always confounded me, in my youth and later. It seemed an icon in some ways - almost a worship of the cross itself rather than what it stood for. Maybe that is the Baptist background in me, always fearing false idols. I see it now as a significant part of understanding that death of this mortal body does not mean the end. It is merely a portal through which we shall pass to get to that "life that shall endless be." I know that death in this here and now is inevitable, even necessary. I cannot escape it. I cannot let the fear of death keep me from following the path of Jesus. 

I read articles I have written in the past and I see such a depth of yearning. I have an understanding of that longing now that has remained elusive previously. I want to be fully a part of this thing called Church. I want my life to be fully about God. Just as tenaciously as God's Love has held onto me, so I want to cling to that Love. 

Breathe on me, Breath of God. Fill me with life anew; that I may love what thou doest love and do what thou wouldst do.

I am on the right path.