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Confession

Confession

Biblical Reference

In the Judeo-Christian tradition, confession is the acknowledgment of sinfulness in public or private, regarded as necessary to obtain divine forgiveness. The need for confession is frequently stressed in the Hebrew Bible. The origins of the Judeo-Christian tradition of confession are very ancient. In the Hebrew Bible, an early example of confession on behalf of the entire congregation is found in the tradition of the scapegoat: “Aaron shall confess over him all the iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins” (Leviticus 16:21). Personal sins also sometimes required forgiveness before the person could atone by bringing an offering to the priestly altar: “When anyone is guilty in any of these ways, he must confess in what way he has sinned and, as a penalty for the sin he has committed, he must bring to the Lord a female lamb or goat from the flock as a sin offering; and the priest shall make atonement for him for his sin” (Lev. 5:5-6). Sins against another human being also required confession: “When a man or woman wrongs another in any way and so is unfaithful to the Lord, that person is guilty and must confess the sin he has committed. He must make full restitution for his wrong, add one fifth to it and give it all to the person he has wronged” (Num. 5:6-7).

The Israelites are described as confessing their sin of idolatry before God at Mizpah in 1 Samuel 7:6, and the Book of Nehemiah (chapter 9) portrays the confession of both individual and collective sins by the Jews as an important part of the spiritual renewal process for the exiles returning from Babylon. Confession and forgiveness is also a theme found in Psalms and Proverbs. The mission of the Jewish prophets was to awaken in the people a sense of sinfulness and an acknowledgment of their personal and collective guilt. Before the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem (70 CE), the sin offerings on the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur) were prefaced by a collective expression of sinfulness (Leviticus 16:21), and, since the destruction of the Temple, the Day of Atonement has continued in Judaism as a day of prayer, fasting, and confession.

In the New Testament, the public ministry of Jesus was prepared for by John the Baptist, who baptized the people; the baptism was accompanied by a public confession of sins (Matthew 3:6). The necessity of confession is discussed in many places in the New Testament (James 5:16; 1 John 1:9), although there is no direct evidence that confession had to be specific or detailed or that it had to be made to a priest. These details are added as the Sacrament evolves through time.

Episcopal Relevance

The sacrament of confession and absolution in the Episcopal Church is usually a part of corporate worship, particularly at liturgies of the Holy Eucharist. The form involves an exhortation to repentance by the priest, a period of silent prayer during which believers may inwardly confess their sins, a form of general confession said together by all present, and the pronouncement of absolution by the priest, often accompanied by the sign of the cross.

Episcopalians also practice private confession through the traditional confessional venue or, more frequently, in a private meeting with the priest. This practice permits a period of counseling and suggestions of acts of penance. Following the confession of sins and the discussion of remedies, the priest pronounces absolution. As with Roman Catholicism, the seal of the confessional is absolute, and any confessor who divulges information revealed in confession is subject to deposition and removal from office.

Historically, private confession was highly controversial within Anglicanism as the denomination was creating its theology separate from the Roman Catholic Church. Though still not widely practiced, private confession within the Episcopal Church became accepted in the second half of the twentieth century with the acceptance of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer.

In the Episcopal tradition, private confession is not required, but a common understanding is that it may be desirable depending on individual circumstances.

“All may; none must; some should.”

Concerning the Rite (p. 446, 1979 Book of Common Prayer)

The ministry of reconciliation, which has been committed by Christ to his Church, is exercised through the care each Christian has for others, the common prayer of Christians assembled for public worship, and the priesthood of the church and its ministers declaring absolution.

The Reconciliation of a Penitent is available for all who desire it. It is not restricted to times of sickness. Confessions may be heard anytime and anywhere.

Two equivalent forms of service are provided here to meet the needs of penitents. The absolution in these services may be pronounced only by a bishop or priest. Another Christian may be asked to hear a confession, but it must be made clear to the penitent that absolution will not be pronounced; instead, a declaration of forgiveness is provided.

When a confession is heard in a church building, the confessor may sit inside the altar rails or in a place set aside to give greater privacy, and the penitent kneels nearby. If preferred, the confessor and penitent may sit face to face for a spiritual conference leading to absolution or a declaration of forgiveness.

When the penitent confesses all serious sins troubling the conscience and has given evidence of due contrition, the priest provides counsel and encouragement and pronounces the absolution. Before giving absolution, the priest may assign to the penitent a psalm, prayer, or hymn to be said or something to be done as a sign of penitence and an act of thanksgiving.

The content of a confession is not usually a matter of subsequent discussion. The secrecy of a confession is morally absolute for the confessor and must under no circumstances be broken.

Glossary

Sacraments

Outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace, given by Christ as sure and certain means for receiving God’s grace. Baptism and Eucharist are the two great sacraments given by Christ to his church. The Episcopal Church recognizes that five other sacramental rites evolved in the church under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, including Confirmation, Ordination, Holy Matrimony, Reconciliation of a Penitent, and Unction (the anointing of the sick with oil, or the laying on of hands).

Sacramental Rites

The sacramental rites of the Episcopal Church include Confirmation, Ordination, Holy Matrimony, Reconciliation of a Penitent, and Unction (BCP, pp. 860-861). These rites are distinguished from the sacraments of Baptism and Eucharist, which were given by Christ and are understood to be necessary for the Christian life of all persons. The Roman Catholic Church recognizes seven sacraments, including Baptism, Eucharist, and the five other sacramental rites. Peter Lombard (c. 1095-1160) identified these seven rites as church sacraments. This position was affirmed by the Council of Florence (1439) and the Council of Trent (1545-1563). The Orthodox Church also accepts seven sacraments. Martin Luther (1483-1546) was willing to identify Reconciliation of a Penitent as a sacrament, in addition to Baptism and Eucharist. In 1521, Henry VIII was awarded the title “Defender of the Faith” by Pope Leo X in recognition of Henry’s treatise Assertio Septem Sacramentorum (Assertion of the Seven Sacraments), which defended the doctrine of the seven sacraments against Luther. After the English Reformation, marriage and the Reconciliation of a Penitent were presented as sacraments by some Elizabethan homilies and formularies. Article XXV of the Articles of Religion acknowledged Baptism and the Lord’s Supper as the two sacraments ordained by Christ in the gospel. Article XXV states that the five other sacramental rites “have not like nature of Sacraments with Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper, for they have no visible sign or ceremony ordained of God” (BCP, p. 872). The five sacramental rites are not understood to be necessary for all Christians.

ALL MAY, SOME SHOULD, NONE MUST

Reconciliation of a Penitent

Sacramental rite in which those who repent may confess their sins to God in the presence of a priest and receive the assurance of pardon and the grace of absolution (BCP, p. 861). It is also called penance and confession of sin. The church’s ministry of reconciliation is from God, “who reconciled us to himself through Christ and has given us the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Cor 5:18). The ministry of reconciliation has been committed by Christ to the church. It is exercised through the care each Christian has for others, the common prayer of Christians assembled for public worship, and the priesthood of the church and its ministers declaring absolution (BCP, p. 446). The Reconciliation of a Penitent is not limited to times of sickness. Confessions may be heard at any time and any place.

The BCP provides two forms of service for the Reconciliation of a Penitent. Only a bishop or priest may pronounce absolution. A declaration of forgiveness may be used by a deacon or layperson who hears a confession. When a confession is heard in a church building, the confessor may sit inside the altar rails while the penitent kneels nearby. The confession may be heard in a place set aside for greater privacy. It is also appropriate for the confessor and penitent to sit face to face for a spiritual conference that leads to absolution or a declaration of forgiveness. After the penitent has confessed all serious sins troubling the conscience and given evidence of contrition, the priest offers counsel and encouragement before pronouncing absolution. Before pronouncing absolution, the priest may assign a psalm, prayer, or hymn to be said or something to be done as a sign, penitence, and act of thanksgiving.

The 1979 BCP is the first American Prayer Book to provide forms for the Reconciliation of a Penitent as a separate office. Form One (p. 447) is shorter and less elaborate than Form Two (p. 449), which includes material similar to the Byzantine form for confession. Form Two begins with Psalm 51 and the Trisagion verses, including scriptural words of comfort. A rubric in Form Two also directs that the priest lay a hand upon the penitent’s head or extend a hand over the penitent at the absolution. This gesture also may be used at the absolution in Form One. The secrecy of the confession is morally absolute for the confessor and must not be broken (BCP, p. 446).

Absolution

The formal act by a bishop or priest of pronouncing God’s forgiveness of sins through Jesus Christ. The absolution of sins reflects the ministry of reconciliation committed by Christ to the church. Absolution may be pronounced following private confession of sins, as provided by the two forms for The Reconciliation of a Penitent in the BCP (pp. 447-452). Absolution may also be pronounced following a general confession of sin in the Holy Eucharist, the Daily Offices, the Ash Wednesday service, and the Penitential Order. The BCP provides that a deacon or layperson may make a “Declaration of Forgiveness” by God of the penitent’s sins after private confession. A deacon or layperson may pray for God’s forgiveness following the general confession in the Daily Offices.

Confession of Sin

An acknowledgment of sin, as in Ps 51: “Against you only have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight.” Confessions of sin during the liturgy are general, made by all the people. The church also provides for confessions of sin by individual penitents and their absolution, pronounced by a bishop or priest. A declaration of forgiveness may be stated by a deacon or layperson who hears a confession. The BCP provides two forms of service for the Reconciliation of a Penitent (p. 447, 449). The Reconciliation of a Penitent is one of the church’s sacramental rites (p. 861). The secrecy of the confession is morally absolute for those who hear a private confession. See Reconciliation of a Penitent.

Confessor

The term has two meanings: 1) One who suffers greatly for confessing the faith without being martyred, and 2) the bishop or priest who hears a private confession of sin.

Contrition

Full repentance for sin and a firm intention for amendment of life. Contrition is motivated by the love of God, causing the penitent to regret sin as evidence of a turning away from God, who loves us.

Historical Relevance

As you might imagine, the historical role and importance of healing rituals have declined as medical science has developed. In ancient biblical times, disease or any physical, emotional, or mental crisis was directly correlated with that person’s “favor” with the LORD. Faith, therefore, was the foundation for healing. Faith and healing was seen as one. If a person was not healed, it was solely because they had no faith or sinned (or a family member had sinned).

2nd Century C.E.

The Apostles’ teachings suggested confessing our sins. Tertullian, a Christian Writer, in De Poenitentia, called this sense of confession our “Second Penitence” receivable only once. The first penitence is baptism.

3rd Century C.E.

The Sacrament of Reconciliation emerges in a recognizable form during the 3rd Century. The penitent confesses their sins to the whole community, is temporarily excommunicated, eats plain foods, participates in almsgiving, and asks the community to pray for them. When the Bishop decides they have paid their due, they are restored to full communion.

4th Century C.E.

The Council of Nicaea (325 C.E.) places the forgiveness of grave sins under the Bishop’s authority. The penitent had to:

  • Listen outside the door for three years
  • Prostrate for seven years
  • Take part in divine worship inactively, nor participate in the Eucharist for two years
  • The process was ended on Holy Thursday by a bishop.
  • Penance was only available once in a lifetime

5th Century

Around 408 C.E., Augustine of Hippo wrote about three kinds of penance:

  1. The removal of previous sin through Baptism
  2. The daily removal of sin through prayer and fasting for minor sins
  3. Formal, one-time confession of a deadly and serious sin publicly.

6th Century C.E.

Irish Monks developed a form of penance involving:

  • Private confession to a spiritual father
  • Restoration of a balance of “Moral Universe” through penance
  • Private prayer seeking forgiveness

The practice of simply confessing once was ended with the Monks, and an attitude of punishment fitting the crime developed.

7th Century

650 C.E.: Council of Chalons-sur-Saône, 650 C.E.

The council affirmed the Monastic approach to confession and attempted to establish Episcopate (Bishop’s) control over it.

Late 7th Century: Theodore of Tarsus (Bishop of Canterbury) writes penitential books outlining what people had to do for penance for their sins. People realized that this penance could be shared, and so forth, and paid others to share it. For example, paying for someone else to fast with you.

12th Century

1170:  The notion of Purgatory is created

1215:  Fourth Lateran Council

  • The council established that all Christians, once past the age of discernment, should confess their sins at least once a year. They established that the penalty for a priest breaking the secrecy seal would be deposed and made to live in a closed monastery for “perpetual penance.”

15th Century

1439: Council of Florence

  • Established that the penitent should:
  • Show contrition of heart and not do the sin again
  • Partake in an Oral confession of sin
  • Achieving satisfaction through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving
  • The minister of the sacrament is a priest

16th Century

1549: The first Anglican Book of Common Prayer

The Anglican tradition suggests that you should receive the gift of confession when your conscience is especially troubled. In the 1549 Book of Common Prayer (which does not contain a standalone rite for confession), there is a provision in the Order for the Visitation of the Sick for a sick person to make a special confession (and the priest to pronounce absolution), “if he feels his conscience troubled with any weighty matter.” The 1549 Book of Common Prayer goes on to recognize that, while some Christians will find they need sacramental confession, others will find “their humble confession to GOD, and the general confession to the church” sufficient to satisfy their conscience; neither group is to judge the other so that charity might be preeminent in all things.

1551: Council of Trent

  • The Council consecrated the sevenfold sacramental system and decreed penance as the forgiveness of sins.
  • The Council pushed for extreme non-communal confession and a more individualistic approach to reconciliation with God.

20th Century

1964: Vatican II

It impinged the overall sense that sacramental penance reconciled sinners with God and the church community.

1965: The Rise of the Hippy Movement

In the mid-1960s, the Hippie movement began to grow. People began to question why and became more “free.” Religiosity is replaced with free thought.

1973: Ordo Paenitentiae released in the Roman Catholic Church

Introduced “The Sacrament of Reconciliation” as the official name of the sacrament. The absolution formula now states: “God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son, has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Theological Relevance

Sacramental confession is a good gift of God to the Church. Making your confession is the remedy to an acutely troubled conscience. It is a formidable weapon in the fight against sin and the pursuit of holiness. It cultivates humility, discourages self-deception, and renews the joy of baptism. Martin Thornton (November 11, 1915 – June 22, 1986) was an English Anglican priest, spiritual director, author, and lecturer on ascetical theology; once wrote, “Is it not just a little silly, and flagrantly inefficient, to cut the lawn with nail scissors when God has taken the trouble to supply a very workmanlike motor mower?”

ALL may, NONE must, SOME should

Featured

Public Service of Healing

February 4, 2024 at 8:00 a.m. and 10:30 a.m.

Biblical Reference

Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven,” James 5:14-15, NRSV.

Episcopal Relevance

“Healing services offer participants beauty and a sensorial experience of readings, music, touch, and the scent of holy oil or incense. Healing services often include special hymns, chants, or songs. Perhaps most important, healing services offer physical touch to participants, through the laying on of hands. This touch varies from a light touch to a close embrace during healing prayer. This prayer and anointing may follow a brief formula or be a long, spontaneous prayer lasting several minutes. Episcopalians distinguish between healing and curing. They see “curing” as the end of disease or illness and “healing” as an experience of transformation, peace, or improved relationships with other people or God. In Episcopalian theology, the goal of healing is a return to “wholeness.”

Hollis, Jennifer L., ‘Healing into Wholeness in the Episcopal Church,’ in Linda L. Barnes, and Susan S. Sered (eds), Religion and Healing in America (New York, 2004; online edn, Oxford Academic, 3 Oct. 2011), https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780195167962.003.0006, accessed 25 Jan. 2024.

Glossary

Ministration to the Sick

A pastoral office of the church. In its basic form, the service is an abbreviated eucharist, including a rite for laying on of hands and anointing. The priest may suggest making a special confession if the sick person’s conscience is troubled. The form for the Reconciliation of a Penitent is used. The BCP also includes various “Prayers for the Sick” (pp. 458-460) and “Prayers for use by a Sick Person” (p. 461) after the form for Ministration to the Sick. If one or more of the “Prayers for the Sick” are used in the service, they may follow the reading and precede the confession (p. 454). The service emphasizes the healing power of Christ and the connection between the worshiping community and the sick person. Communion may be administered from the reserved Sacrament, using the form beginning on p. 398 of the BCP. In many places, lay eucharistic ministers bring communion directly from the Sunday service to the sick or shut-in.

Reserved Sacrament

Following ancient custom, the BCP provides that the consecrated bread and wine may be reserved for the communion of the sick or others who could not be present for “weighty cause” at the celebration. The sacrament may also be reserved on Maundy Thursday for communion on Good Friday. It is customary to keep the consecrated elements in a tabernacle or an aumbry or covered with a veil on a table or altar. A lamp or candle burns nearby to announce the presence of the reserved sacrament. This light is a sanctuary lamp if the reserve is near the altar.

Anointing

Sacramental use of oil as an outward sign of God’s active presence for healing, initiation, or ordination. Anointing with oil by smearing or pouring may accompany prayers for healing (unction) and the laying on of hands in the rite for Ministration to the Sick (BCP, p. 453). The signing with the cross of the newly baptized may be done by anointing with the oil of chrism, which signifies that the person is “sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own for ever.” (BCP, p. 308). The oil for anointing may be scented, with different fragrances used in healing, initiation, or ordination services.

Last Rites

Sacramental ministry to a dying Christian may include confession and absolution, laying on of hands, anointing (extreme unction), and communion. The dying received communion as viaticum, or sustenance for a journey, in accordance with ancient custom. The BCP provides forms for the Reconciliation of a Penitent (pp. 447-452), an order for Ministration to the Sick that includes the ministry of the word, laying on of hands and anointing, and Holy Communion (pp. 453-457). If communion is administered from the reserved sacrament, the form for Communion under Special Circumstances (pp. 396-399) is used. The BCP also provides a form for Ministration at the Time of Death, which includes a Litany at the Time of Death and prayers for a vigil (pp. 462-467). Prayers of commendation for the departed have been dated from the fourth century.

Extreme Unction

Use of oil to anoint the sick at the time of death. After the seventh century, western Christianity associated the rites of anointing with repentance and death. This differed from the earlier practice of anointing for healing and recovery from illness. Unction became a rite reserved for situations in extremis, near death. The various movements of liturgical renewal in the twentieth century have recovered the anointing of the sick in its ancient sense as a rite of healing. Anointing may also be done at the time of death.

Historical Relevance

As you might imagine, the historical role and importance of healing rituals have declined as medical science has developed. In ancient biblical times, disease or any physical, emotional, or mental crisis was directly correlated with that person’s “favor” with the LORD. Faith, therefore, was the foundation for healing. Faith and healing was seen as one. If a person was not healed, it was solely because they had no faith or sinned (or a family member had sinned).

Late Middle Ages (1250 CE – 1450 CE)

Although there is evidence that primitive medical care, such as amputations, took place in Ancient Greece, the first notable shift in theology based on disease and science was during the Black Death (1347-1351 CE). During the Black Plague, the role of the church was to bury. The rate of death was so extreme that the church re-evaluated adult baptism and began to baptize children and infants to save their souls from an eternity in Limbo. Concerns for ritual, prayer, and the individual soul began to diminish under the stress of the entire community’s well-being. The church focused on speaking words of comfort, absolution of sin, and the assurance of God’s forgiveness.

The Enlightenment (1650 CE – 1800)

As the exploration of human anatomy grew, a chasm began to form between science and religion. Hospitals and institutions began to be built; the focus was placed on caring for the body. To stay relevant, Christianity also focused on the body, not on spiritual healing through prayer or ritual.

19th Century

The 19th century is known as the “birth of surgery” and the development of psychology and psychiatry. The latter challenged the very necessity of religion, claiming religion itself was the cause of some illnesses. Medically, the advancements were numerous and monumental:

1818: the first successful blood transfusion

1843: Ether is used as an anesthetic

1885: the first successful appendectomy

1895:  the first x-ray

1896: the first successful open-heart surgery

Through all these advancements and milestones, the church’s role has not changed since The Enlightenment. What the church had to offer was antiquated and no longer relevant. It could pray for physical comfort, but health was coming from science.

20th Century

Although medical science targets human pain and prolongs life, the 20th century is marked with even more amazing medical breakthroughs:

1928: Antibiotics are discovered

1950: the first successful organ transplant

1985: the first robotic surgery

There was, however, a slight movement at work in the Episcopal Church, spurred by biblical studies and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit to reexamine the significance and value of prayers. The practices of the early church, based upon the Biblical mandate from James, to call the elders of the church to anoint with the expectation of healing, which had become a lost practice for many centuries, was restored in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer, and with reportedly great success, not only in the Episcopal Church but in many denominations, both mainline and Pentecostal.

During the twentieth century, the healing ministry in the Episcopal Church shifted from the death bed back into the church. From an emphasis on life eternal to a focus that now includes a positive and hopeful ministry expressed within the precinct of the sanctuary long before death seems imminent. From praying for the body only to praying for wholeness of mind, body, and spirit.

Theological Relevance

The theological relevance of the healing service used in the Episcopal Church today bridges what is written in Scripture with the needs of the individual. The prayers in the liturgy are broad-reaching, including prayers for an individual and prayers for the pain and hurt felt worldwide. The liturgy no longer focuses on just the physical pain of the people in the worship space at any given moment, but on hurts we have done and have been done to us, on corporate sin and disease of creation, of soundness of mind, body, and spirit. Those who wish to come forward for prayer and anointing may ask for prayers and healing for another person. The clergy often has no idea what is weighing on that person’s heart; the church serves as a conduit for God’s healing mercy.

The liturgy is written so those uncomfortable coming forth for anointing may remain seated in quiet prayer. There is a saying in the Episcopal Church that serves as the foundation for all the Pastoral Offices and Sacraments offered:

ALL may, SOME should, NONE must

Featured

Lent When You Need It

The holiest three days of the Christian faith is mere hours away. The Triduum (Maundy Thursday [Holy Thursday], Good Friday, and Holy Saturday) brings to a close the Lenten Season.  As a reminder, Lent is the time to repent (ask for forgiveness and change behaviors), to return to the Lord, and to make a new beginning once again.  Should not the life of any Christian ought to bear the characteristics of Lent?

In the Lenten Season more than in any other we try to be realistic about who we are.  We acknowledge our imperfections.  We make a special effort to turn our lives around and let go of unhealthy behaviors.  We take extra time to deepen our relationship with God through a spiritual discipline or through acts of charity.  We become more serious about who we are as Christians, so practicing a daily Lenten-type discipline would hone our ability to follow the Lord and to take steps that would allow him to be the center of our life.

Benedict suggests that during Lent we go above and beyond what we normally do for our spiritual disciplines by adding prayers to our normal routine and by denying ourselves some food, drink, sleep, and unnecessary talking or joking around.  This becomes our joyful offering to God (RB 49:1-7).  In the Episcopal Ash Wednesday liturgy, each of us are invited into a holy Lent with these words:

I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word (p. 265, 1979 Book of Common Prayer).

Fasting

Fasting is an appropriate Lenten discipline that involves denying oneself a favorite snack food or beverage, unnecessary naps, or sleep, excessive talking or indulging in any behavior for pure enjoyment. (RB 49.7).  Fasting is not denying yourself anything that will create a health crisis or spark an unhealthy habit. 

For example, we might be able to forgo hitting the snooze alarm and use that time for prayer or to prepare a special breakfast for the family.  We might choose to use this extra time to be gentler with ourselves and start each day at a slower pace.  We could also reflect on our habits of speech or on our actions to determine if there is anything from which we could fast.  Perhaps talking negatively about others; interrupting others or grumbling. This spiritual practice of fasting will help us look forward to Easter with joy and spiritual longing (RB 49.7).  Our physical disciplines become spiritual offerings. 

Fasting, therefore, is a gift to God, a free-will offering over and above what we normally do (RB 49.6).  By denying ourselves something we would normally want or do, we exercise the muscles of patience and forbearance as well as hone our spiritual stamina.  All these fasting practices will help us be strong enough spiritually to work through whatever life deals us.  Lastly, fasting can be a time to identify with those in the world whose life is a constant, and unchosen fast.  Our hunger or abstinence from certain behaviors can serve as reminders of the needs of so many in our communities.

Fasting can become a yearlong practice on certain days of the week or in certain weeks of the month.  We might consider fasting when God seems distant or when we are facing a particular challenge.

Holy Reading

In Lent Benedict adds an extra hour each day for holy reading (RB 48.14), making a total of three hours each morning.  Benedict is serious about this discipline of prayerful reading and study.  Benedict was sincerely concerned about the souls of his brothers and wanted to see that everything was done to help them take time with the Lord to benefit this life and the next.  Holy reading is not only Scripture, but anything that feeds your soul, that helps focus your heart and habits to be more focused on the Divine.  Personally, my reading tastes shift from theology to world religions, to poetry.  There is no magic formula for the book topics or the authors.

Resisting Evil

While the Lenten disciplines are described in the Rule are a special practice in response to our sinfulness, the Rule also offers other ways to live a holy life by resisting evil.  The vows of stability, obedience, the Benedictine practice of hospitality, and the focus of living well in community are all tools we can use in our ongoing battle to resist evil.  Benedictine spirituality does not shut us off from the world and its many temptations and distractions.  Instead, it helps us meet these while we retain a spiritual center in the Divine.  Prayer – our own and that of others – can help us keep our center.

Ideas for Lenten Practices

               Read a Gospel

Holy Reading

During Lent the Rule instructs each person to have additional time for reading (RB 48:14) and prayer (RB 49.5).  As you read and pray with Scripture, you are formed and transformed on both a conscious and an unconscious level.  The words reach up to your mind and affect your thoughts and actions.  The words reach down into your soul and permeate your very being in hidden ways that will transform your heart.

               Read a Spiritual Book

               There are many wonderful and inspiring books on spirituality, the Christian life, and prayer.  I          have specifically included references to various authors and books throughout this series to help expand your library based on your personal interest.  I have also included additional suggestions at the end of this segment, or you can ask your clergy, check libraries, and bookstores, or ask         friends who share your faith outlook.

Fasting

               Give Up a Sin

               “Weed out” those things about ourselves that get in the way of our relationship with the Divine,       others, and even with ourselves.  What could be given up that would make us more energized            and joyful?  What most gets in the way of our relationships with others?  This behavior that gets in the way of relationships with others also gets in the way with our relationships with the                Divine and therefore, compromises our relationships with ourselves, for it blocks not only peace                but also freedom of action with a greater power.  What sin blocks me most?  Now give it up.                 Cleanse your heart and mind.  Then when we find ourselves falling into the old pattern simply   and gently remind ourselves that we gave that up.  And move on.

Prayer

               Replace Complaining with Prayer

               One of the most damaging things we can do to ourselves and others is murmur or complain      about another person, whether silently or out loud.  Benedict is adamant against grumbling and        complaining:

First and foremost, there must be no word or sign of the evil of grumbling, no manifestation of it for any reason at all (RB 34.6).

               Grumbling and complaining in our hearts separates us from others.  Murmuring puts a chink in           the links that connect us to each other and to the Divine.  It simply is not constructive and                destroys communities.  Simply replace grumbling and complaints with the words, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”  By saying this phrase whenever we catch ourselves grumbling           or complaining, we can stop and make s space for the Divine.

               Devote Yourself to Prayer

               To expand the time for prayer and to experience different types of prayer, simply add 10-15              minutes of prayer each day.  Try a method of prayer that you may not normally use.

10 Different Prayers in the Bible

https://www.biblestudytools.com/bible-study/topical-studies/types-of-prayers-we-see-in-the-bible.html

1. Prayer of Adoration

This type of prayer is focused on worshiping the Lord out of deep love, respect, and admiration. These prayers come from a place of genuine awe of who the Lord is and all that he does.

“Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone is exalted;      his splendor is above the earth and the heavens” (Psalm 148:13).

2. Prayer of Thanksgiving

For some, beginning each day with a prayer of thanksgiving is a habit they practice. Prayers of gratitude are prompted by an answered prayer, deliverance, recognition of how good and merciful God is, or simply because we have been given another day of life.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever. Cry out, ‘Save us, God our Savior; gather us and deliver us from the nations, that we may give thanks to your holy name, and glory in your praise’”    (1 Chronicles 16:34-35).

3. Prayer of Confession

Confessing our sins is a significant way to pray as followers of Jesus. Often, Jesus called those he interacted with to confess their sins and sin no more. In the Bible, we get a glimpse of confession prayers and many reminders that God forgives those who confess their sins.

“Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.’ And you forgave the guilt of my sin” (Psalm 32:5).

4. Prayer of Vows

Praying a promise to the Lord is a prayer that we may pray when we are making a life-changing commitment that we need God’s strength, guidance, and help to fulfill. Perhaps we vow to the Lord never to drink alcohol, or to abstain from premarital sex, or to live in a certain righteous way that is pleasing to the Lord. A pledge to God, just as we see in Hannah’s vow, should be followed through, and made with great consideration and certainty.

“In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. And she made a vow, saying, ‘Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head’” (1 Samuel 1:10-11).

5. Prayer of Quiet Reflection

Prayers of silence draw us away from prayers filled with words, and into a place where we quiet ourselves down and reflect. These types of silent prayers provide us needed time to reflect on God’s goodness. This type of prayer is valuable to how we learn to hear from the Lord and allow him to guide our steps.

“On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night” (Psalm 63:6).

6. Prayer for Healing

A prayer for healing is usually spoken when we seek restoration for our physical bodies, spiritual wholeness, or emotional wounds. A key component of Jesus’ earthly ministry was healing those who were physically ill. The Bible affirms that we can come to God asking for all types of healing.

“Heal me, O Lord, and I will be healed; save me and I will be saved, for you are the one I praise” (Jeremiah 17:14).

7. Prayer for Deliverance and Help

When we are facing challenges, hardships, or oppression, we find ourselves praying for deliverance and breakthrough. We say these prayers for help because God is the one who can aid us in ways no one else ever could. In the Bible, many followers of God cried out for his intervention in this type of prayer for help and deliverance.

“Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress” (Psalm 107:6).

8. Prayer of Intercession

Praying for others is a crucial part of being part of the body of Christ. The Bible instructs us to pray for one another and to intercede on someone else’s behalf. In the Gospels, we read that Jesus prayed for others in his final hours before being arrested. The apostle Paul wrote of how he often kept other Christians and new believers in his prayers, as well.

“And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God. May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light” (Colossians 1:9-12).

9. Prayer for Transformation

As followers of Jesus, we aim to live like him, live according to his ways, and enter a lifelong process of sanctification. Praying for this type of transformation in our hearts, minds, and lives is purposeful and we can find these types of prayers in God’s word.

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23-24).

10. Prayer of Blessing

Prayers of blessing are often said for visiting missionaries, or families relocating to another church, those starting a new job, or new graduates. We pray blessings over newlyweds, newborns, or even over a new house or car. Prayers of blessings are found throughout Scripture and are powerful ways to ask for God’s best to be poured out.

“And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God” (Philippians 1:9-11).

Giving Alms

Giving alms is a time-honored tradition.  As a mark of our repentance, we take steps to share with others the gifts that the Divine has given to us, be it money or personal talents.  By giving alms we reach out to others in intentional and specific ways.  We share our money with the needy or our time to a worthy cause.  Do something that we have not done before.  Reach out beyond our normal sphere of concern and comfort.

Your invited to journal for your own edification and/or add comments to the blog feed of what worked or did not work for you when dealing with obedience.  It has been an enjoyment to share Lent 2021 with you in such a sacred and holy conversation. 

May you experience a Triduum that offers you a place of solace, holiness, and new life.

 

Reading Ideas

Chittister, Joan, O.S.B, Living the Rule Today. Erie, PA.: Benet Press, 1982

de Caussade, Jean-Pierre.  The Sacrament of the Present Moment. Translated by Kitty Muggeridge. San Francisco:  Harper Collins, 1982.

de Waal, Esther. Seeking God: The Way of St. Benedict. Collegeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1984.    Reprinted 2001.

Hall, Thelma.  Too Deep for Words: Rediscovering Lectio Divina. Mahwah, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1988.

Homan, Fr. Daniel, O.S.B., and Lonni Collins Pratt. Benedict’s Way: An Ancient Monk’s Insights for a Balanced Life. Brewster, Mass.:  Paraclete Press, 2000.

Johnston, William, ed. The Cloud of Unknowing. New York:  Doubleday, 1973.

Keating, Thomas. Open Mind, Open Heart. Rockport, Mass.: Element, Inc, 1992.

Kleiner, Sighard, O.C. In the Unity of the Holy Spirit:  Spiritual Talks on the Rule of Saint Benedict, Kalamazoo, Mich.:  Cistercian Publications, 1989.

Lawrence, Brother.  The Practice of the Presence of God.  Translated by E.M. Blaiklock. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1981.

McCall Smith, Alexander.  The Full Cupboard of Life.  New York: Pantheon Books, 2003.

McQuiston, John II.  Always We Begin Again.  Harrisburg, Pa.:  Morehouse Publishing, 1996.

Norris, Kathleen.  The Cloister Walk. New York:  Riverhead Books, 1996.

Nouwen, Henri. Reaching Out:  The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life.  New York:  Doubleday, 1975.

Pennington, M. Basil.  Centering Prayer:  Renewing an Ancient Christian Prayer Form. New York: Doubleday, 1980.

Taylor, Brian C. Spirituality for Everyday Living: An Adaptation of the Rule of St. Benedict.  Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1989.

Ware, Corinne. Saint Benedict on the Freeway. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2001.

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Holiness of Labor

“The Benedictine life shown in the Rule is undramatic and unheroic; it simply consists in doing ordinary things of daily life carefully and lovingly, with the attention and the reverence that can make of them a way of prayer, a way to God,” (Esther de Waal, Living with Contradiction, p. 71).

The main work of the monastic community was the Opus Dei, the Work of God. Today, many may imagine this work to be theological writing, praying, preaching, “church work” but keep in mind that monasteries were not built in urban areas, they were primarily rural and agrarian in nature. Monks worked in the fields planting and harvesting, in the kitchen preparing and cleaning, in the classroom studying and teaching, in the chapel singing and praying.  Benedict designed a day that was filled but balanced.  When not in chapel for prayer, the monks would be working, praying, reading, eating, or resting.

All types of work are equal and all important.  By serving one another, the brothers would promote feelings of respect, not only in themselves but throughout the community (RB 35:1-2).  Benedict also gives us a model in which the worker is respected and cared for: the kitchen workers assigned for that week receive something to drink and some bread in addition to their regular portion an hour before they are to serve the meals.  Thus, the work is not burdensome and can be done without grumbling or complaining (RB 35:11-12).

Not only are workers respected, the tools used in the monastery are to be treated carefully, as carefully as the sacred vessels on the altar (RB 31:10-11).  Benedict teaches that everything is sacred and to be reverenced, from the humblest to the most glorious.  The sacred pervades every part of life.

Benedict understood the value of work nut also understood that to define oneself by one’s work was dangerous.  Work is a means to glorify the Creator.  The skilled may practice their craft, but only with humility.  Should they become conceited with their abilities or with the profit they brought to the monastery, their work would be stopped.  Only with proper humility could the individual return to his or her craft (RB 57:1-3).

The morning after I preached my first sermon without a manuscript, Fr. Paul Winton took me out to breakfast and handed me a metal vegetable peeler.  This gesture was to remind me to remain humble and never forget in a monastery I would be sent to the kitchen to peel potatoes for a week.  That peeler remains in my desk drawer and comes out once a week.  For Benedict, work was just part of the life of a monk, a life that was to be well-ordered and well-balanced with work, prayer, study, and rest.

Holiness of Work

Jesus wore many hats.  He moved from carpentry or stone cutting to ministry.  In the latter role Jesus taught the crowds, instructed his disciples, healed the sick, exorcized demons, debated with religious zealots, and endured humiliation.  Throughout all this work, Jesus had one purpose:  he glorified God.  This focus is what grounded him and gave him stamina, courage, and clarity.  For us this means that in our work we are not just to do, we are to be.  Our real work is to be as we show the presence of the Divine in our daily tasks.  If rooted in the Divine, then it does not matter what we do, it is how we do the task before us that is most important.  The how calls us to be people who respect whatever work the Divine has given us to do; therefore, all our work is a holy endeavor.

Work is a way we seek God. Work is the way we use our God-given gifts in service to others.  Work provides opportunities to be in relationship with others.  Work can be an opportunity to listen for God each day.  What we do as our work is important; yet our true work is beyond what we do with our hands and our minds.

Applying the Benedictine Ideal

Equality

Benedict provides a model for community labor, family life, workplace harmony where there is no hierarchy of importance regarding the type of work.  Each person serves the other in respect, and work is framed by each person’s relationship with their Creator.  Instead of complaining that someone cannot do something that we can do, we can simply offer to help.  We can respect the contributions that each makes in the community.

Stewardship

The Benedictine view of work has a stewardship component:  we are stewards of the gifts, talents, and skills that have been given to us.  Everything we have been given has been loaned to us by the Divine and through our work we can find our way to a deeper relationship with the Divine.

Balance

Benedict taught balance:  manual labor, reading Scripture, corporate worship, private prayer, meals, rest, and sleep.  We can keep in mind the importance of our work yet not let work determine the structure of our lives by allotting the time necessary for each task we have before us – no more, no less.

God’s Presence into Your Work

  • First thing in the morning, give your day to the Divine by asking yourself, “What is the true Work I am being asked to do today?
  • Sit at your desk, pray for the Divine’s presence throughout the day.
  • Imagine the Divine, sitting or standing next to you offering encouragement, support, and positive energy.
  • Give thanks throughout the day for completing a task, for something new that was learned, for a mistake or error that provides humility.
  • Listen for the Divine’s voice through family, coworkers, friends.  When you hear that Divine voice, carefully listen and respond (obedience).
  • Remember that your work is holy underneath all the vacuumed rugs, buried in the countless string of emails, and entangled in the voice messages and Google reminders your work is spiritual.

Bless the Tools of Your Work

  • What are the tools of your work?
  • How do these tools allow success in both the big picture and in the small?
  • How might reverence be shown for these tools each time they are used?
  • Is it possible to give thanks for electronic devices, hand tools, schoolbooks, etc.? How might this impact how I approach my work?

Arrow Prayers

Arrow prayers are snippets of Scripture of prayers that remind us that prayer is the key to unlocking the awareness of grace flowing through us and our work.  Below are some examples:

  • Lord, you are my shepherd. (Ps 23:1)
  • God, you are my light and my salvation. (Ps 27:1)
  • My God, I put my trust in you (Ps 25:1b)
  • Come, Lord Jesus! (Rev. 22:20)
  • Prepare the way for the Lord (Isaiah 40:3)
  • Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me (Jesus Prayer)

Your invited to journal for your own edification and/or add comments to the blog feed of what worked or did not work for you when dealing with obedience.  Next Wednesday we will complete our study of the Benedictine Rule with the topic of creating a holy Lent anytime.

May you experience a holy Lent that offers you a place of solace and holiness.

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Stability: The Power of Persistence

Do not grant newcomers to the monastic life an easy entry, but, as the Apostle says, ‘Test the spirits to see if they are from God.’ (1 John 4:11). Therefore, if someone comes and keeps knocking at the door, and if at the end of four or five days he has shown himself patient in bearing his harsh treatment and difficulty of entry, and has persisted in his request, then he should be allowed to enter and stay in the guest quarters for a few days.  (Rule 58:1-4)

Before we enter into a conversation of stability and perseverance, it is critical to understand that although the goal of stability is to stay put and work things out, stability does not mean we should remain in unhealthy or abusive relationships either personally, professionally, or communally.  Stability is not a force to keep us where we are not safe: physically, mentally, or spiritually.  Stability does not ask us to remain in a place or in a relationship where we cannot grow and flourish.  Although the primary stability for most  of us is in our Creator, we can trust that our Creator will guide us to make changes in our life and relationships necessary for our physical and emotional well-being.

Stability in St. Benedict’s Rule is the action of staying put, riding out the tough times in hopes of a stronger relationship with God and others.  It is persistently sticking with a situation, with people, and with God.  The inner meaning of stability according to The English Benedictine Basil Cardinal Hume is that we “Embrace life as we find it, knowing that this, and not any other, is our way to God.”

Our culture, however, encourages something vastly different:  Don’t get tied down.  Keep your options open.  Everything is disposable: people, relationships, vocations, careers, etc.  This is a very superficial and convenient way of living.  To live under these pretenses is to not have any skin in the game; it is a very self-centered approach to the challenges that can actually strengthen us and our relationship with our Creator and with others.  Living a disposable life robs us of the joys and experiences of remaining steadfast and stable.

Stability says yes to the Creator’s will for us in the places we have been placed and with the tasks that we have been given to do.  Stability also recognizes that there are times when God, the Creator places us in a particular situation not so much for what we can gain, but for what we can offer to others.  Esther de Waal writes that a life guided by stability has both an exteriority and an interiority.  The exterior action of remaining in a place, relationship, or situation is to establish “stability of heart,” (de Waal, Seeking God, 60).  Inner stability becomes more important as our lives and cultures become more mobile and transient.  Very few of us remain in the cities of our youth, or remain in the same home all our lives, or remain with the same company for our entire careers.  By staying rooted in our spirituality, in a force larger than ourselves, we can draw strength.

Henri Nouwen, a priest and writer, discovered that inner stability that rests in God brought him peace.

Whenever I am, at home or in a hotel, in a train, plane, or airport, I would not feel irritated, restless, and desirous not being somewhere else or doing something else.  I would know that here and now is what counts and is important because it is God himself who wants me at this time in this place. (The Genesee Diary, 76

Stability has an element of persevering with patience.  Persistence and perseverance, therefore, ask us to live in the present moment; to accept and respond to whomever and whatever God has placed before us.  Nouwen suggests that stability is wanting the situation we are in because we know that we can find God in it regardless of its difficulty or unpleasantness.

Stability calls us to work out our problems with the people who are in our lives, which offers us moments of growth.

  • Stability prevents us from running away from necessary development
  • Stability prevents us from bringing old problems with us into new relationships
  • Stability keeps us from being controlled by our moods and doubts
  • Stability encourages the practice of looking for the best in the other person
  • Stability may also bring a call for forgiveness and healing

Stability, therefore, brings about a staying power that enables us to persist and persevere. To do this in the midst of others allows us to take on an attitude of humility where we remain open and present to the person or situation in front of us, seeking not our way but what God is trying to teach us through this person or situation.  Stability becomes our teacher about others and ourselves. You see stability is not just about standing in front of another person, but also standing in my own center and not running from the real me.  Stability helps us accept who we are with all our graces, faults, and wounds.  Instead of listening to the thread of negativity streaming in our heads, we are reminded that God is present and we are wonderfully made in his image.  We do not need to look somewhere else where we think or have been taught that God might be.


Practicing Stability

Inner Stability

So many aspects of our lives are hurried or may feel fragmented. The key to being present is living right where we are and not in the past or the future.  Living in the past can cause regrets and depression; living in the future brings about anxiety and worry.

  • Tell yourself there is enough time to complete everything you NEED to do.  This helps to usher in a sense of calm and helps you focus on where you are.
  • Take time each day to focus on feeling your feet and the place in which you are standing.  Stop and look around focusing on items of specific colors (ie:  all things blue that are around you).
  • Accept that your Creator has placed you where you are needed.  Conscience acceptance helps connect us with the Divine and brings about inner stability.
  • Ponder this:  How might you come to know God more deeply through the various and diverse tasks you undertake each day?

 Stability and Faith

To gain the strength and balance to put in our daily lives and relationships, there may be times when we need to rest more firmly in our relationship with something bigger than ourselves. Wrestling with questions of your faith can offer clarity and therefore, stable ground on which to stand.

  • Does my commitment to God or my Creator change depending on the circumstances of my life?
  • Do I strive to follow Jesus’ teachings or am I more inclined to look for ways to escape?
  • Am I faithful in my practice of prayer, however, I choose to pray?

Stability and Perseverance

Perseverance is not being stubborn but it sure is a close cousin.  Perseverance allows us the courage and stamina to work through barriers that divide and destroy relationships.  I think it is far to say that most of us have experienced perseverance, where we have remained connected when we wanted to run either from a conflict or a relationship.  By recalling the details of experience, we can find new strength and assurance that we can persevere through the present situation.

  • What was the prior situation?
  • What did you do to find the courage and stamina to persevere?
  • What were some of the positives that emerged for you from this past experience?
  • How might those positives and the resources used in the past help you today?

Your invited to journal for your own edification and/or add comments to the blog feed of what worked or did not work for you when dealing with times of uncertainty.  Next Wednesday we will explore the topic of Obedience.

May you experience a holy Lent that offers you a place of solace and holiness.

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The Rule of St. Benedict for 2021

Although we are almost 1,500 years removed from the original writing of The Rule of Saint Benedict, I think we can continue to glean spiritual practices that help us enter into a deeper relationship with the Divine. Beginning on Ash Wednesday, we will explore some of the spiritual disciplines and how they may be practiced in our daily lives. The blog will be updated each Wednesday. My hope is that this blog series becomes interactive among its readers, so please share and comment as you wish.

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Advent Morning Prayer

Please join me each weekday morning at 7:00 am for Morning Prayer during the Advent Season. These prayer sessions will begin next Monday, November 30, 2020. You will be able to pray with us throughout the day as your schedule allows.

Videos may be accessed through either of these links:

https://www.facebook.com/holytrinityfay

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxdvIpNz3TziRQ-hmfybJMQ

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Sermon: September 6, 2020

Romans 13:8-14

The Rev. Nancee A. Cekuta

I don’t know about you, but I really struggle with this idea of “love your neighbor as yourself,” especially when I don’t get to pick my neighbor.  The lack of nuances in the English language doesn’t help this either.  In the Greek language there are four different words that mean love, but each one is a different form of love.  In English we say, “We love our children”, “we love our spouse or partner,” and we love ice cream and Dunkin Donuts.”  All of which are very different forms of love.  In Paul’s letter to the Romans this morning he is teaching the difference between agape a divine love, a Godly love, a holy love versus eros, which is a human desire.   Agape love involves community, eros is a self-centered love.

Dietrich Bonheoffer, was born in 1906, grew up, and was educated in Germany.  In 1930, he found his way to the United States after he earned his PhD in Theology, where he taught at Union Theological Seminary in New York.  With the rise of Hitler and the outbreak of WWII, Bonheoffer decided he needed to return to his mother country to support his German neighbor.  Upon his return, he connected himself with the Confessing Church, which was an underground religious organization that opposed Adolf Hitler and his teachings.  Bonheoffer was eventually imprisoned for participating in a conspiracy to assassinate Hitler.  On April 9th, 1945 Pastor Bonheoffer was hanged by the Gestapo, less than a month from the fall of Germany. 

In his book, Life Together, Bonheoffer writes this:

Human love lives by uncontrolled and uncontrollable dark desires; spiritual love lives in the clear light of service ordered by the truth.  Human love produces human subjection, dependence, constraint; spiritual love creates freedom of the brethren under the Word.  Human love breeds hothouse flowers; spiritual love creates the fruits that grow healthily in accord with God’s good will in the rain and storm and sunshine of God’s outdoors.

Bonheoffer experienced the division and torment caused by human love, but continued to teach and strive for the power of divine love or spiritual love…agape  love.  Human love stifles and controls; spiritual love liberates and encourages growth.  On Social media human love deletes, unfriends, or bullies those who don’t agree with us; spiritual love asks questions and seeks common ground.  Human love listens with ears to respond and rebuke; spiritual love listens with ears to understand.  Human love speaks with tongues to persuade and control, spiritual love speaks with tongues that heal, that bring forth hope and unity.  Human love is reaction, but spiritual love is action.  Action that creates, that builds, that unifies.

The Episcopal Church has a very simple way of reminding us of our duty as Christians.  In our Baptismal Covenant, the final affirmation we make as Christians is to “Respect the dignity of every human being” not just the ones who think like us, or look like us, or live right next to us.  To respect is Bonheoffer’s service ordered by the truth.  To respect does not mean we have to agree, it does not mean we have to change our minds or our positions, but it does mean that we see value in the other person.  That we see people as equals, that we see people as created in God’s own image. 

Human love is reaction that divides; spiritual love is action that heals and offers hope.

Advent 2025 Reflection: Endless

On this Christmas morning, Advent does not end so much as it opens—into something vast, luminous, and uncontainable. And let us pause to say this plainly: we made it. The candles have been lit (in the right order, more or less), the calendars have been followed, the waiting has been waited. Advent, in all its holy patience and gentle restraint, has finally brought us here.

We live in a world deeply aware of limits. Time runs out. Resources thin. Even our Advent discipline can feel long by week three—when we are still singing “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” and resisting the urge to jump straight to joy. Yet Christmas arrives with good news: God is not limited by our impatience, our fatigue, or our quiet counting of days. God arrives anyway, bearing the gift of the endless.

Endless mercy, born among animals and strangers.
Endless compassion, crying in the dark.
Endless love, small enough to be held, strong enough to redeem.

The miracle of the Incarnation is not simply that God comes close—but that God never stops coming. In Jesus, eternity does not hover above humanity; it kneels beside it. The endless God takes on the rhythms of breathing and sleeping, growing and waiting—yes, even waiting, just like we have been doing all Advent long.

Christmas morning reminds us that God’s promises are not exhausted by our failures, nor diminished by our doubts—or by our relief that we can finally sing the big hymns with full voice. The grace revealed in the manger does not run out by nightfall. It is poured out again and again—in forgiveness that keeps returning, in hope that refuses to be extinguished, in love that outlasts fear and death itself.

To receive this child is to step into an endless journey. We are invited to live as people shaped not by scarcity, but by abundance; not by finality, but by promise. The waiting is over, but the wonder has only just begun.

So today, let us rest in the joy of arrival and the relief of fulfillment. Let us laugh a little, sing boldly, and trust that the light born this morning will keep shining—through ordinary days, through uncertain years, and through every ending we fear.

Advent 2025 Reflection: Angels

On this final night of Advent, the world holds its breath. The waiting has thinned to a whisper, and into that holy hush comes the angel.

In Scripture, angels rarely arrive gently. Their first word is often “Do not be afraid.” Not because fear is foolish, but because what is about to happen will undo what we think is possible. Angels appear when heaven presses close to earth—when God’s purposes can no longer remain unseen.

In 2025, we know what it means to live with constant alerts, warnings, and noise. We are surrounded by messages that inflame fear, urgency, and division. Against that backdrop, the angel’s message feels almost subversive: peace, good news, great joy for all people. The angel does not shout over the chaos; it speaks truth into it. Not denial, not escape—but assurance that God is still at work, even here.

Angels are messengers, not the message itself. They do not draw attention to their own brilliance but point beyond themselves to a child wrapped in cloth, lying in a feeding trough. Glory delivered through vulnerability. Hope born into the ordinary. Salvation announced not in palaces but to shepherds working the night shift. The angel reminds us that God’s most world-changing work often arrives quietly, carried by trust rather than spectacle.

Tonight, the angel’s voice asks us a question: What message do we need to hear as Christ is about to be born again among us? Perhaps it is reassurance when the future feels uncertain. Perhaps it is courage to believe that love can still interrupt violence, that light can still pierce fatigue, that God’s promises have not expired.

As Advent gives way to Christmas, we are invited to become angel-bearers ourselves—not winged, but willing. Speaking peace where fear dominates. Naming hope where despair has settled in. Pointing, again and again, to the presence of God-with-us.

On this holy night, may we listen for the angel’s message—not only in the sky, but in the quiet places of our hearts. And may we be unafraid to receive the good news: Christ is near. Christ is coming. Christ is here.

Advent 2025 Reflection: Mother

On these final quiet days before Christmas, Advent invites us into stillness. The waiting has thinned to a hush. What remains is not urgency, but reverence.

Mother is a holy word. It names a sacred role—the calling to receive what is given, to guard what is vulnerable, and to bring forth life. It is not defined by gender, but by devotion: the steady offering of oneself so that life, hope, and promise may emerge into the world.

In the mystery of God’s coming, this role stands at the center. Before the Word is proclaimed, it is carried. Before light is revealed, it grows in hiddenness. God entrusts divine life to patient care and faithful presence. Life is brought forth not through force, but through attentiveness, surrender, and love that abides.

Advent teaches us that holiness often takes this form: life forming in silence, grace unfolding slowly, faithfulness practiced when no one is watching. To “mother” is to participate in God’s creative work—to nurture life until it can breathe on its own, to trust the process of becoming without rushing the birth.

In a restless and weary world, the work of bringing forth life continues quietly. It is present wherever someone tends what is fragile—new beginnings, restored relationships, healing communities, rekindled faith. Life is born whenever dignity is protected, hope is sustained, and love refuses to let death have the final word.

On this sacred threshold of Christmas, we are invited to contemplate:
What life is God bringing forth through us in this season of waiting?
What promise are we called to hold, protect, and nurture until it is ready to be revealed?

The word mother draws us into the heart of God, whose love continually brings forth life—gentle yet powerful, hidden yet transformative. God comes near through care that sustains, through patience that trusts, through love willing to dwell in the quiet work of creation.

As Advent draws to a close, may we honor the holiness of this calling. May we receive the life God is forming within and among us with humility and awe. And may we wait with tenderness, trusting that what has been nurtured in silence will soon be born as grace for the world.

Advent 2025 Reflection: Declared

To declare is to speak aloud what is already true, even when the world is not yet ready to hear it.

By December 22, Advent has drawn us to the edge of fulfillment. The waiting has narrowed. The light has grown. And still, before anything is born, before angels sing to shepherds or magi begin their long journey, God declares.

The angel’s words to Mary are not tentative. They are not suggestions or possibilities. They are a declaration: “The Lord is with you.” Before Mary understands how this will unfold, before she consents, before the risks become real, God names what is already true. Grace precedes explanation.

Declaration in Scripture is never mere information. It is creative speech. When God declares, reality bends toward life. “Let there be light” does not describe light; it summons it. “You are my beloved” does not wait for worthiness; it bestows identity. What God declares, becomes.

This is good news for those of us who arrive at December 22 tired, uncertain, or carrying the weight of a year that has not resolved neatly. Advent does not ask us to manufacture hope. It invites us to listen for what God has already spoken over us and over the world.

Declared: God is with us.
Declared: Fear does not have the final word.
Declared: Love is stronger than violence, mercy deeper than failure, light more enduring than darkness.

Mary’s response—“Let it be with me according to your word”—is not passive. It is courageous trust in a declaration she cannot yet see fulfilled. Advent faith often looks like this: standing in the space between God’s word and its completion, choosing to live as though the promise is already true.

In a world saturated with loud claims and fragile certainties, God’s declaration is quietly radical. It does not shout. It does not coerce. It simply speaks—and waits for hearts willing to receive it.

On this late Advent day, we are invited to attend to what has been declared over us, not by headlines or fears, but by the living God. We are named beloved before we are prepared. We are called into joy before circumstances improve. We are entrusted with hope before the manger appears.

Soon, the Word will become flesh. But even now, the promise has been spoken.

May we have ears to hear it.
May we have courage to trust it.
And may we live as people who carry God’s declaration into a waiting world.

Come, Lord Jesus.

2025 Advent Reflection: “Deep”

On this final Sunday of Advent, the season feels deep. The nights are at their longest. The waiting has stretched on. The calendar tells us Christmas is near, yet the world still feels unresolved—tender, aching, unfinished. Advent does not rush us to the surface. Instead, it invites us downward, into what is deep.

Scripture often speaks of depth when words begin to fail. “Deep calls to deep,” the psalmist cries, naming a longing that cannot be explained away or hurried past. Depth is where honesty lives. It is where we stop pretending that faith is simple or tidy. By December 21st, we are not meant to be skimming joy—we are meant to be rooted in it.

God’s coming is not shallow. The Incarnation does not hover politely above human life; it descends into it. God enters the deep waters of human vulnerability—into bodies, into families, into fear and hope intertwined. The promise of Emmanuel is not that life will remain light and manageable, but that God will meet us in the depths we would rather avoid.

To go deep in Advent is to tell the truth about what we carry. The deep joys we protect. The deep griefs we conceal. The deep fatigue of a world that keeps asking us to be strong. On this day, so close to Christmas, we are invited not to perform readiness but to practice trust—trust that God is not afraid of our depth.

Depth takes time. Roots grow unseen. Love matures slowly. God’s work in us is often hidden long before it becomes visible. Just as Mary carried the life of Christ in the deep silence of her own body, we are asked to carry hope before we can explain it.

As the light begins its slow return, Advent reminds us that depth is not darkness without purpose. It is the place where life is formed. Where faith becomes resilient. Where God’s presence is no longer an idea, but a companion.

This week, may we resist the temptation to rush upward toward celebration without first going deep. May we trust that the God who comes to us in Christ meets us fully—deep in our longing, deep in our love, deep in our becoming.

For it is there, in the deep, that the Kingdom of God quietly takes root.

Advent 2025 Reflection: Truly

Advent begins not with noise, but with a whisper.
A single word rises in the stillness—a word gentle enough to steady the heart, yet strong enough to reorient a life:  Truly.

So much around us feels uncertain, shifting like shadows in early dawn. But truly is the breath that cuts through the haze. It is the soul’s instinct that something real, something trustworthy, is drawing near.
Advent invites us to pause and ask:
What is truly shaping me?
What is truly mine to carry?
What is truly of God?

When Jesus speaks, He often begins with this word—“Truly, I tell you…”
It is not a command; it is an invitation. A soft turning of our face toward his. A reminder that God’s truth is not distant or theoretical. It is the warm breath of God in a manger, the quiet fidelity of love that will not let us go.

Advent truth is not shouted. It arrives like light slipping under a door.

The prophets didn’t say, “Perhaps light will come.” They said, “A light has shone.” Truth spoken in the future tense, already pulsing with certainty.

In our waiting—whatever it looks like this year—God whispers the ancient promise again:
Truly, I am coming.
Truly, I am with you even now.

It is the shepherd’s gasp beneath a sky ripped open with song. It is the quiet recognition of a tired traveler beholding unexpected kindness. It is the awe that rises in us when grace catches us off guard.

To say truly is to acknowledge that holiness has touched something ordinary— and left it shimmering.

Advent 2025 Reflection: Robes

Advent invites us into stillness—into that quiet inner room where the soul listens for God. And into that space comes this simple, ancient word: robes. Long before robes appear on our bodies, they’re draped around our hearts. Some of us wear the robe of competence, stitched from the need to appear strong. Some wear the robe of invisibility, woven from old wounds and disappointments. Some carry the robe of sorrow—heavy, dragging at the edges.
And some wear a robe of joy that feels strangely out of place in a world frayed by grief.

Advent asks gently:
What robe are you wearing today? And who placed it on your shoulders?

God sees the inner garments long before we name them. Nothing hidden is hidden from him. Nothing worn in shame is beyond his touch.

Scripture reveals a God who pays careful attention to robes.

He clothes Adam and Eve after they hide in fear.
He wraps Elijah in a mantle of prophetic fire.
He commands priests to wear garments that remind them they minister in his presence.
He robes the prodigal with restored dignity before the boy can speak a single apology.

Always, God’s clothing is an act of tenderness.

And then Christ comes—entering our world not in royal splendor but in swaddling cloth. The eternal Word wrapped in the simplest of robes, as if to say: There is no garment of the human condition I will not wear with you.

To wait on God is to stand between what is and what will be. It is to live unclothed of certainties, stripped of illusions, while God slowly dresses the soul in trust.

Advent is not passive. It is the slow fitting of a new robe—
a robe of righteousness where we have worn shame,
a garment of praise where we have carried heaviness,
a mantle of peace where anxiety has taken root.

Sometimes God must loosen the old robe thread by thread.
Sometimes he lifts it off in one surprising movement.
Always he clothes us with himself.

The child we await will one day wear a robe shining with the glory of God.
But first, he chooses the robe of humanity—fragile, vulnerable, ordinary.
The One robed in light wraps himself in our darkness.
The One who will judge the nations first wears the robe of a servant who kneels to wash feet.

He does not dress himself apart from us; he dresses himself like us, and for us.

Advent 2025 – Week Three Reflection: Cleansed

The third week of Advent traditionally carries the note of joy—the rose candle lit against deepening winter. Yet the joy that Advent offers is not cheap or shallow; it is the kind that emerges only after God has done a cleansing work within us. This week, the word that rises is “Cleansed.”

In Scripture, cleansing is never merely about outward purity—it is always about restoring relationship. Through the prophet Malachi, God speaks of a coming Messiah who will be like a refiner’s fire and a fuller’s soap—not to destroy, but to purify; not to shame, but to restore. Advent asks us to welcome that refining presence.

As we draw nearer to Christmas, the light gets brighter, and light has a way of revealing what we’ve tucked into shadows. Advent is not only about preparing a manger in our hearts, but about allowing God to clear away everything that does not belong there.

Many of us enter this season carrying heaviness:
• burdens we’ve accumulated,
• old wounds that still sting,
• resentments that cling to our spirits,
• habits or sins that dull our capacity for joy.

But Advent whispers this truth: You are not meant to carry what Christ came to cleanse.

John the Baptist’s cry—“Prepare the way of the Lord!”—is not an order to “get your act together,” but an invitation to open your life to the healing mercy of God. When we allow God to wash away what burdens us—fear, guilt, bitterness, self-reliance—joy naturally rises.

Cleansing is not about perfection. It is about making room.

This week we are invited to let God cleanse:
– our motives,
– our desires,
– our relationships,
– our expectations,
– our false sources of hope.

Wherever God cleanses, God also prepares.
Wherever God refines, God also restores.
Wherever God washes, God also renews.

To be cleansed is to be made ready for hope—not the fragile hope the world offers, but the strong, steady hope born in a manger.

A Prayer for the Third Week of Advent

Refining God, as we light the rose candle of joy, cleanse our hearts of whatever dims your light. Wash away the weariness, the fear, the pride, the anger, the sin—
all that keeps us from receiving your Son with clear eyes and open hearts.
Make us new again, that our joy may be real and our hope unshakable.
Prepare in us a place fit for Christ to dwell.
Amen.

Advent 2025 Reflection: Highway

Advent is a season of roads—of movement, expectation, and the long walk toward hope. The Scriptures give us one striking image again and again: a highway. Not a back road, not a winding footpath—a highway prepared for God’s arrival.

“Prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”
—Isaiah 40:3

A highway is intentional. It doesn’t form accidentally. It cuts through resistance—hills lowered, valleys lifted, obstacles removed. To speak of a highway is to speak of effort, collaboration, and transformation.

Isaiah locates this road in a desert, the place where life is sparse, and direction is unclear. Many of us enter Advent carrying our own deserts—fatigue, conflict, uncertainty, grief. And yet God does not ask us to build a highway out of the desert, but in it. Advent proclaims that God does not avoid barren places; God travels through them to reach us.

For Israel, the highway in Isaiah was an image of homecoming—a path for exiles to walk back into freedom. Advent 2025 arrives in a world where many feel exiled from peace, from unity, from certainty about the future. The promise of a highway is the promise that God is carving a clear route back—back to reconciliation, back to courage, back to joy we thought we lost.

A highway is shared. It is wide enough for others. Advent asks us:
Whom are we preparing space for?
Sometimes our hearts feel more like narrow trails—only room for those who think like us, behave like us, or agree with us. But Advent’s highway stretches wider. It welcomes strangers, wanderers, skeptics, the hurting, and even those we might consider enemies. Preparing the way of the Lord often looks like widening the way for others.

Ultimately, Advent is not about our journey toward God but God’s journey toward us. Christ comes down the highway—God moving toward humanity with urgency and tenderness. The incarnation is God saying, “I refuse to let anything—distance, brokenness, or despair—keep me from you.”

As we approach Christmas 2025, the word highway invites us to consider:

  • What valleys in us need lifting—discouragement, self-doubt, weariness?
  • What mountains need lowering—pride, resentment, rigidity?
  • What obstacles do we need to clear—old wounds, grudges, fear?
  • Who needs space on the road we are building?

Christ comes. Not to a perfect landscape, but to the one we are willing to shape.
May our Advent journey be courageous and straightforward.

Advent 2025 Reflection: Recompense

As we light the pink candle this third week of Advent—the candle of joy—we are reminded that God’s promises are not distant whispers; they are approaching realities. Advent is a season of waiting, but it is not a waiting filled with despair. It is a waiting infused with hope, expectation, and the certain knowledge that God’s justice and mercy will prevail. This week, our hearts turn to the profound truth of recompense—the divine assurance that God sees, remembers, and will restore.

Recompense is more than repayment; it is restoration, renewal, and the setting right of what has been broken. It is God’s way of honoring the faithful, comforting the weary, and bringing light into the darkness. In our lives, we often long for recompense: recognition for our efforts, justice for our suffering, or healing for our wounds. Yet God’s recompense does not always arrive on our schedule, and it rarely comes in the form we expect. Like a gardener patiently tending seeds that will bloom in their season, God nurtures his promises until they blossom fully. And when he acts, it is never a simple reward—it is the overflowing of his love, mercy, and joy.

This week, Advent calls us to embrace joy in the midst of waiting. Joy is not naïve optimism, nor is it dependent on circumstances. It is the confident delight that God’s plans are good, his timing is perfect, and his recompense is sure. Scripture reminds us repeatedly that God delights in his people, rejoices over us with singing, and brings peace to the weary. Every act of love we offer, every sacrifice we make, every prayer we whisper in the quiet moments of our hearts is known to him. Nothing is wasted. Nothing is forgotten. Nothing goes unseen.

As we reflect on recompense this week, we are invited to see beyond our immediate frustrations or disappointments and to trust in the God who comes to set all things right. The Christ child, coming to us at Christmas, is the ultimate recompense: the embodiment of God’s mercy, the healer of our brokenness, the bearer of joy that cannot be taken away. In him, the lonely are embraced, the oppressed are freed, and the faithful are rewarded—not always in ways the world applauds, but in ways that transform hearts and lives eternally.

Let this third week of Advent fill us with courage to act with hope and generosity, even when recognition seems distant. Let it inspire us to love boldly, give selflessly, and rejoice unapologetically. Joy is contagious: it lights the path for others, lifts weary hearts, and reminds the world that God’s kingdom is drawing near. As we prepare for Christmas, let us carry the light of this pink candle into our homes, communities, and hearts, knowing that God’s recompense is coming, and it is far more beautiful than we can imagine.