Devotionals

Foot-Washing

July 6, 2011

"After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, 'Do you know what I have done to you?'"

Reflection by Donna Schaper

What follows is an odd story for the middle of summer--even though manicurists often do their most business in the sandal months. Two years ago at Christmas, a manicurist in New York City, around the corner from where I live, had to go to the bathroom. She had been washing people's feet for what she described as 12 straight hours. The owner of the shop said she could not go, as there were more clients and more feet. She refused the refusal. As she left the shop that night, six other foot washers walked out with her. We could never find them, not through the Domestic Workers' Alliance, the Chinese Workers' Alliance and several personal contacts. Why were we looking? Because of Jesus. And a sobbing phone call that told us the story, begged for help, and then disappeared. She wanted help she could not receive, for whatever reasons I'll never know.

I get a pedicure from time to time, and my mother who is 20 years my senior gets one every week. I am glad for her. I no longer go to the salon around the corner. After my Christmas appointment that year, I was no longer welcome. I don’t like Chinese women bowing down in front of me, but I do like supporting their growing businesses. I also enjoy their attention to my feet. I just can’t stop thinking about Jesus who washed feet and understood that the disciples didn't understand. Their quandary is mine. Jesus’ kindness is often mistaken for weakness, as the rap singers say. Plus, humility is one thing, bowing down another. Freedom at work and freedom from overwork is a third. In sandal season and at Christmas, remember this ideal man who washed his disciples' feet, then put on his robe and returned to the table.

Prayer

Jesus, you are the Spirit of the Living God, whose hands and feet we are. Help us understand why some people think they are better than others. Bring us all, robed, to your table. When we are always waited upon, and never wait, find us some feet. Let us wash them. Amen.

Peace Then, Peace Now, Peace in the Future

May 12, 2011

Psalm 23

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;

he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long."

Reflection by Donna Schaper

More people know this one by heart than any other—and well they should. Watching people mumble it at funerals is one of life's great joys. Maybe you or your children haven't memorized it yet. You'll want to.

Maybe I can tweet it to you:

"Intention to leave wanting behind: I shall not want. God, Guide, Green Pastures, Still waters, Souls Restored, Right Paths, then the trouble, the turn. Enemies arrive. Dark Valleys abound. Evil. There in the trouble, we will not fear. Not back to the peace but forward to the peace. Then the Eucharist, the table set up in the wilderness. Then the overflowing cup after the trouble, after the fearlessness. Then dwelling in the house of the Lord forever. Peace then, peace now, joined by peace in the future, right in the middle of the trouble." Pretty nice. And I have some characters left.

Prayer

Teach or tweet us, O God, to mumble your words and memorize your peace and always to know that we have some characters, some spaciousness left. Lead us in the paths beyond cramped, into righteousness. Amen.

Action Command

May 6, 2011

Excerpt from 1 Peter 1:13-16

"Therefore prepare your minds for action; discipline yourselves; set all your hope on the grace that Jesus Christ will bring you when he is revealed."

Reflection by Donna Schaper

Action has a great public relations agency. People want to be active, not passive, engaged not distant; they remember the folk wisdom that "actions speak louder than words." But action without a prepared mind is dangerous.

Don't just stand there, we say, do something. Most of what we do when we are just "doing something" is pointless. Actions without intentions—and action without humility—can fool us into thinking we are "doing something." Such action is a short-term solution to life's long term.

Unprepared or unmindful action has become tyrannical. It is divorced from reflection, and the children, after the divorce, are suffering. Whether it is speed-up at work, emails at home, at work, on the subway, while riding a bike, or the way "we have become the tools of our tools," as Thoreau said, action is overblown. It has become something that puffs us up while exhausting us.

The old-fashioned way of talking about this dilemma is to contrast works and grace, the way our doing of even good things can conflict with our way of being grace-filled people. If you think it is all up to you and you work hard to do good, you are in danger of thinking your works have saved you and not your faith. Sola fide, only faith, say the old-timers. And they had no public relations agency at all.

Prayer

O God, when action threatens to get in the way of grace, permit us conscientious objection to joining its military. Amen.

"Hot Dish"

April 23, 2011
Holy Saturday

Excerpt from Matthew 27: 57- 59

"When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who was also a disciple of Jesus. He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be given to him. So Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock."

Reflection by Donna Schaper

You have stood there in the snow and the rain. You have watched your friend's casket lower into brown dirt. You have watched your friend let her husband or wife or partner go to dirt or ash. You have made it through the long winter. You deserve the daffodils. You are reminded by each of these that the time will come for your clean linen cloth.

When it comes to the death and burial of Jesus, we have the opposite of these intimacies. We sing that we "were there" but in fact, we were not. We are there by song and by scripture. But we were not there. Joseph of Arimathea was. And he did what we would have done, had we been there. He attended – like the women – to the ordinary and the practical. I often say that when the women in my congregations hear of a death, the first thing they do is get their casserole dishes out. (Some men do also.) "Hot dish" is one way to respond to death.

Many grieving people speak of how their refrigerators overflowed as their hearts emptied.

From the Easter alleluias to the Advent lights and back again, the greatest intuition of the church is to see Jesus, first dead and then alive. Of course we get our casseroles out for that.

Prayer

O God, prepare us to die and to live, to live and to die. Amen.

God's Dwelling Place

March 26, 2011

Excerpt from Psalm 84

"For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness."

Reflection by Donna Schaper

Living in the courts of the Holy is a great way to understand an ordinary day. We go in, we go out. Doors mark our time. We are not stuck anywhere. We are people on the move, from one holiness and one strength to another. We go from strength to strength.

Unfortunately we are habituated to living courtless lives. We find ourselves spending time in the tents of wickedness, whether we want to or not. We imagine that our 401K's ups and downs define our security. They do not. We imagine that having health insurance is the key to having health. It is not. We imagine that very little can be done to stop crime or properly reform criminals. Indeed, when we stand at the gate of the holy, we are filled with ideas for forgiveness, reparation, renewal of those, including us, who have "gone wrong."

There is nothing permanent about the tents of wickedness for us or for criminals. What is permanent is the court of the holy. We can spend every day there.

When we imagine our lives as doorkeepers to the courts of the holy, we let go of what we think is the norm on behalf of a new normal. We live a different way, as people who "wake up and smell the possibility," in the great words of Alice Walker.

Prayer

Spirit of the Living God, tell us what it is that keeps us from being good doorkeepers. Give us detail. And then send us to the gates and there let us move in and out of holiness with joy and gratitude. Amen.

Making Toast

March 23, 2011

Excerpt from John 7:53 - 8:11

"And Jesus said, 'Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.'"

Reflection by Donna Schaper

"You are not your fault," said Anne Lamott. So then whose fault are we? Frankly, is there any fault? The question of blame has all but taken over our conversation. If I get sick, what did I do to cause it? If there is a deficit, what did I do to make it happen? If I get pregnant and am 14, there is a lot said on television about what I did to cause my fertility to be fertile at an inopportune time.

What would life be like if we lived beyond and without blame? First of all, our days would be happier. We would lean forward rather than back into our loss and resentments. Secondly, we would blame fewer victims and be angrier with corporations for stealing our money and with Fox News for its war on women and girls. In congregations, we would not blame the pastor for not "growing" the church and learn ways to be responsible to each other and not for each other. We would know the attitude of lovingly mystified indifference, normally attributed only to the most mature Buddhist monks. Finally, we would live like Jesus, who knew only how to love and lead and seemed to have missed the course in blame and condemnation.

Both right and left had a field day blaming each other for the Tucson deaths and the shooting of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords. Am I the only one amazed that when she first found her speech she asked for toast, not revenge? Doesn't toast seem like a funny thing to want after you have nearly been killed? Roger Rosenblatt, in Making Toast, tells us he enjoys making toast for his grandchildren, after the untimely death of their mother and his daughter. Most of the time we put condemnation and exterminationist violence into the word toast. "I wish they were toast," we'll say. Jesus says something different. "Neither do I blame you." Living without blame means we can also live without revenge...and share a piece of bread together, every now and then, under the most difficult of circumstances.

Prayer

O God, teach us to love making toast with each other. Let the blame game be exterminated and let the rest of us live. Amen.

Become Like Children

March 12, 2011

Excerpt from Matthew 18:1-7

"Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Reflection by Donna Schaper

I wanted to know how to ship my dog on Continental Airlines. Exasperated by non-response, I finally wrote their robot, "Please give me your snail mail address." She responded, out loud, "Sorry, we don't ship animals like that." I didn't want to ship a snail. I wanted to ship a dog. Any child would have understood, especially the kind that announce out loud that Aunt Emily "sure is fat."

The trust that Jesus puts in the small and the slow, the child and the snail, never ceases to amaze me. I live in the world of the false adult and the slow fast. Consider the amount of time all of us spend on efficient, corporate web sites and 800 so-called free phone calls, staffed by robots. Why are they falsely adult? Because they claim efficiency only to deny it. They show what George Orwell meant when he said the "enemy of clarity is insincerity." False adults have learned insincerity and can no longer communicate.

Never ask a web site a question with your sound on. "She" may respond, loudly, telling you they don't ship snails, which question you never asked in the first place.

How do false adults avoid the slow fast of the 800 number? We get clear about efficiency and how it knocks the child out of us. How do we become childlike? We stay intimate with sincerity.

Prayer

O God, as we live in more and more impersonal spaces, keep the child in our heart. Clarify us and keep us sincere. Amen.

Why Me?

March 6, 2011

Excerpt from Psalm 42

"Why are you cast down, O my Soul?"

Reflection by Donna Schaper

Jim Crawford, the retired Senior Pastor at Old South Church in Boston, was visiting a man in the hospital. The man was very angry that he had cancer and was not being healed of it. "Why me?" he kept saying. Crawford responded, "Why not you?" There is a turn in the process of suffering when we go from "Why me?" to "Why not me?" We tip. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross called it acceptance, at the end of all the anger and denial and bargaining. This coalescence, this shiver, is like a mountain-top experience, even though we may have it over our morning coffee.

You may also want to pray the great prayers of Psalm 42. Just say, Deep is calling to Deep, O God. Or just say, God you are my rock. Or just say that you are panting for a stream.

Any of these sentences can tip you from the "Why me?" whining to the "Why not me?" acceptance.

God rushes into a slightly open heart, a door left ajar.

Prayer

O God, when we suffer, we are without our diplomas, our resumes, our credit cards, our ID's. We are on our own. Teach us how to suffer as part of the human race and as your child. Amen.

Justice Can Prevail

February 27, 2011

Excerpt from Psalm 2

"Why do the nations conspire, and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord and the Lord's anointed."

Reflection by Donna Schaper

As I write, matters in Egypt unfold, like the emptying of an envelope filled with hurt and repression. The rulers conspire, the people inspire, and all wonder where things will "end." What happens to people who get fed up because they are not fed? Will blood pour out in the streets, as well as justice? Must blood pour for justice to be obtained?

I can't forget that Mubarak's guns were stamped with "Made in the USA." Nor can I forget how easy it is to get a gun to use in Arizona against a congresswoman. On Ground Hog Day, I saw my shadow. It was in these guns.

Rulers "set" themselves by their access to force. What is the force of the Lord in contrast? It is a belief in the arc of justice, coming like a great snowstorm, covering all things by quiet and the slow certainty of one snowflake falling and taking to the street. It is as much a belief in non-violence as it is lack of access to the guns that protect and ensure violence. It is a willingness to stand up to tanks, in Tiananmen Square, in Memphis, in Cairo. Tank power and gun power are not the equal of soul power.

Guns, finally, cannot prevail. Justice can. It is utter pragmatism. When all are fed, there will be peace. When all have respect, there will be peace. When we say these things and mean them, with our bodies and our souls, justice has already arrived.

Prayer

O God, when we worrywart the wars, remind us of our power to stop them. Amen.

A Single Commandment

February 22, 2011

Excerpt from Galatians 5:14

"For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'"

Reflection by Donna Schaper

The whole chapter five of Galatians is worth a good long read. It is about the subject of Christian freedom, which the writer imagines is a kind of slavery to love. It is about the difference between the law and grace, using circumcision as an example, concluding that it matters little if we are or are not circumcised. Instead it matters a lot how we talk about the subject to each other.

Maybe you don't need to read this chapter. You may have no issues about right and wrong, cultural customs, the right way to dress, the right foods to eat. You may never have spoken of chocolate cake as "sinful" or scoffed at someone who was obese. You may tolerate all points of view and never pass judgment, even silently to yourself. If so, you can skip this chapter.

If, however, you find yourself intolerant of difference, unkind when someone smokes in public or brings a dog to a meeting, sit down for the long read. You will learn what it means to be in love with each other. You will also be brought to attention by the warning that sometimes when we "bite and devour each other," we actually find ourselves chewed up, even consumed.

Be kind. Fall in love. Think less about circumcision, ancient or modern, and more about love.

Prayer

O God, we pray that we can be a little yeast that leavens the entire dough of community and that when we are gone, people miss us because our kindness is lost. Amen.

The Young and the Old

February 12, 2011

Excerpt from Matthew 15:1-9

"Then Pharisees and scribes came to Jesus from Jerusalem and said, 'Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders? For they do not wash their hands before they eat.'"

Reflection by Donna Schaper

I remember when my parents first saw me wearing blue jeans. They were horrified. Daily I meet people who of don't approve of Facebook or don't like baseball caps worn backwards. Have they really forgotten how they broke their own parents' hearts, right in front of the neighbors?

Generational warfare is universal and maybe even harmless. People seem to need to justify themselves. One of the ways we do it is by wearing what our parents didn't. The disciples had bad manners and some people thought that needed comment. Jesus didn't.

In the name of Jesus, we keep an eye on the lame, the blind, the feeble, and the old—and the young. Elders deserve respect because they are elders. Youth lose when they forget to respect the old, just as the old lose if they don't try to find out what younger people are thinking under their baseball caps. The best thing we have learned in my congregation, which is getting younger, is not to mention age very much. That way we treat each other as people, which is what matters. Customs don't. People do.

Thomas Jefferson argued that in matters of custom, we swim with the flow, and in matters of principle, we make like a rock. My hope for younger people and older people is that they know what it means to love a person like Jesus did—and learn to avoid the shallow self-promoting sneers.

Prayer
O God, let us forget about the young and old for a while and grant humanity to all. Amen.

The End of Denial

February 6, 2011

Excerpt from Isaiah 58:1 - 12

"…Ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in."

Reflection by Donna Schaper

Protestants are almost at the end of the denial of our own death as an institution. As Orhan Pamuk chronicles so well in his memoir, Istanbul, there is nothing so melancholic as the sadness that comes of living amid the ruins of a lost empire.

At the end of denial, we recognize how much it hurts to lose and to be "losers." We know the hurt and we are in the tender – and tendering – stage.

Will Christ—and Protestantism—return in triumph? Triumph is the kind of answer people who are in denial give: we want back what we used to have. Ancient ruins want something deeper and different. When our energy returns, the people will follow. So will the money. Any question that is money or survival driven is theologically suspect in terms of resurrection. Resurrection has less to do with trumpets of triumph than with a couple of lost and confused women holding on to each other on an early Sunday morning.

For now we repair the breaches and cling to each other, in the precious predawn of hope. There is a breach between who we were then and who we are now. Another breach is the awful hate—against immigrants, Muslims, gays—that flourishes because institutions stay in denial, instead of daring the dawn. To repair the breach, end the denial. To raise up the ancient ruins, be tender with each other in grief. The rest will follow.

Prayer

O God, tender us into the breach and tender us through it. Amen.

Glory

January 29, 2011

Excerpt from Romans 3:21 - 31

“For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

Reflection by Donna Schaper

What is sin? It is to fall short of the glory of God. It is to miss the mark of our ideal humanity. It is to be distant from God. Jesus, as the ideal human, might be defined as one who never doubted the full presence of his Father. What made him so special was how close he stayed to the one he called “Abba.”

Often we mistake sin for its disguises in right and wrong behavior. Smoking, drinking, and eating too much come to mind. Abuse of our body becomes more important to us than abuse of our souls. Glory, as well as health, is our destination as a human. When we miss the mark of our best humanity, we sin. Smoking, drinking, and temple disregard are surely sins, but they are the outer sign of inner conditions. Glorious souls rarely abuse the temple in which they are housed.

We are in good company! Apparently all of us are in this boat together, this place of minimal glory and maximal distance from our mark as God’s creatures. What might be different? We might learn to live in the deep water instead of the shallow. We might try to get closer to God by the practice of prayer or by raising our hands in worship to touch the Spirit of the room. We might work less on the outside and more on the inside.

Prayer

O God, You who are the source of any glory we might ever have, draw near. Help us know what it is you meant us to be. Amen.

Follow Me

January 22, 2011

Excerpt from Luke 5:27-32

“After this he went out and saw a tax collector named Levi, sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’ And he got up, left everything, and followed him.”

Reflection by Donna Schaper

The IRS is on its way to its annual collection – and we are on our way to our annual grumpy submission. I happen to love paying taxes, as I think they are the best way to redistribute wealth. I know I am weird.

Before I explain why I love taxes, let me explain my problem with people who hate them. When we hate taxes, we move deep into the land of individualism. That land is dry and dull – but much of our cultural economy likes the neighborhood. The next stop on the train to the land of individualism is loneliness. Again, many like to live there. Some move back to the human race when their loneliness turns to that bitter complaint, “It is all up to me.” That cry of anguish comes straight from the decision to hate taxes.

We are watching an unprecedented unraveling of the social safety net. Security is no longer social; it is individual. It is all up to you, when the social safety net unravels. For those of you who can make it on your own, hoorah. For those of us who can’t – the lame, the blind, the unlucky, the weak, the 200’s on the SAT – hoorah as well. At least we aren’t lonely. At least we are weird enough to like taxes and help each other.

Prayer

O God, when we are like Levi and invited by you to let go of our individual security on behalf of something more beautiful and fun, help us to say yes. Amen.

A Common Earth

January 12, 2011

Excerpt from Psalm 89:5-37

"Look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug."

Reflection by Donna Schaper

I know a secret about people's suitcases. I found it out by accident when I was writing a little book about rock gardening. I thought I was the only one who lugged rocks and stones from far-off places home in my suitcase. It turns out that many people do this. The TSA security theater is more interested in toothpaste than in stones.

Why do people haul rocks around as souvenirs? Are we not searching for something ancient and basic to remind us of our origin in earth? I think so. We are looking for our home quarry.

The current flap about whether TSA should probe our private parts when we fly is interesting in these terms. I am less concerned about my private parts than my public parts when trying to board a flight, with a few rocks in tow. I remember freedom and want it again. I wonder what the end game is and whether we will ever fly again without inspection. I wonder when fear of terrorism will stop and when terrorism itself will stop. Probably when we remember our origin in a common earth. That hard rock is also our destiny. We are hewn for peace, not war, hewn for love not hate. Remember. And then forecast.

Prayer

O God, we who carry the weight of the world in our bags, remind us where we come from, so we can know where we are going.

January 6, 2011

Epiphany of the Lord

Arise, Shine

Excerpt from Isaiah 60:1-6

“Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.”

Reflection by Donna Schaper

When you move from being a fraulein to being a frau, from a senorita to being a senora, a girl to being a woman, things change. Men also become men and leave the great land of boyhood. We each hope to rise, while losing inches from our spine and avoiding osteoporosis of the soul.

The difference between our rising and our slumping has to do with our aim. Where were we trying to go in the first place? Towards our glory or the sacred glory? Towards estrangement from the human race, in the grand exceptionalism of ourselves? Were we going to be different from the rest of the schlubs and resist soul slump, bone brittleness? Do we want to be perpetually premature, always a little less ready for life than we could be? So many people aim to best their parents, or their high school peers. So many fail, especially by trying.

Aiming for the glory of God lightens us. It raises us from the death of the girl and the boy. It raises us into light and lightness of being. Arise. Shine.

Prayer

O God, you who keep asking us to aim for you, sharpen our sight. Let us see what we are aiming for so well that we hit our mark. Amen.

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