Spiritual writer Debie Thomas considers the significance of salt to Jesus’ first listeners:  

Until fairly recently in human history, salt was one of the most sought after commodities. The ancients believed that salt would ward off evil spirits. Religious covenants were often sealed with salt. Salt was used for medicinal purposes, to disinfect wounds, check bleeding, stimulate thirst, and treat skin diseases…. When Jesus calls his listeners “the salt of the earth,” he is saying something profound, something easy to miss in our twenty-first century context.  

First of all, he is telling us who we are. We are salt. We are not “supposed to be” salt, or “encouraged to become” salt, or promised that “if we become” salt, God will love us more. The language Jesus uses is 100 percent descriptive; it’s a statement of our identity. We are the salt of the earth. We are that which enhances or embitters, soothes or irritates, melts or stings, preserves or ruins. For better or for worse, we are the salt of the earth, and what we do with our saltiness matters. It matters a lot. Whether we want to or not, whether we notice or not, whether we’re intentional about it or not, we impact the world we live in.  

Thomas describes the impact of salt on all that it touches.  

Salt doesn’t exist to preserve itself; it exists to preserve what is not itself…. Salt is meant to enhance, not dominate. Christian saltiness heals; it doesn’t wound. It purifies; it doesn’t desiccate. It softens; it doesn’t destroy….  

One of the great tragedies of historic Christianity has been its failure to understand this distinction. Salt fails when it dominates. Instead of eliciting goodness, it destroys the rich potential all around it. Salt poured out without discretion leaves a burnt, bitter sensation in its wake. It ruins what it tries to enhance. It repels.  

This, unfortunately, is the reputation Christianity has these days. We are known as the salt that exacerbates wounds, irritates souls, and ruins goodness. We are considered arrogant, domineering, obnoxious, and uninterested in enhancing anything but ourselves. We are known for hoarding our power, not for giving it away. We are known for shaming, not blessing. We are known for using our words to burn, not heal.  

This is not what Jesus intends when he calls us the salt of the earth…. Salt at its best sustains and enriches life. It pours itself out with discretion so that God’s kingdom might be known on the earth—a kingdom of spice and zest, a kingdom of health and wholeness, a kingdom of varied depth, flavor, and complexity.  

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus makes concrete the work of love, compassion, healing, and justice. It’s not enough to believe. It’s not enough to bask in our blessedness while creation burns. To be blessed, to be salt, to be followers of Jesus, is to take seriously what our identity signifies.

====================

The Idol of Dreams: Wish Upon a Star

Click Here for Audio To pass the time on a 15-hour flight to Asia, and to distract myself from the cramped confines of my economy seat, I watched a lot of movies, including Disney’s Ralph Breaks the Internet—the sequel to Wreck-It Ralph. Ralph, a character from a vintage arcade game, and his best friend Vanellope von Schweetz, a princess from a kids’ racing game called Sugar Rush, find themselves in the new world of the internet.  When Vanellope discovers a mature game online called Slaughter Race—think Grand Theft Auto—she dreams of leaving her childish arcade game to race with the big-shots. Joining Slaughter Race, however, would mean leaving Ralph and their humble life at the arcade. The film is about choosing between fidelity to your friends or dedication to your dreams. Spoiler alert: Vanellope chooses her dreams, and Ralph learns—along with the audience—that it’s not only okay but right to put your dreams ahead of your relationships.The central message of Ralph Breaks the Internet is one that Hollywood spews ad nauseam: “Follow your dreams at all costs.” It’s a message that goes largely unchallenged by our culture. We’ve come to believe that we are defined by our dreams and anything sacrificed in pursuit of them—relationships, family, commitments, integrity, morality—is excusable.  Maybe we don’t resist these messages because we’ve absorbed the deification of dreams from our very earliest memories. After all, no one has distilled and disseminated our culture’s idolatry of dreams more than Disney: “When you wish upon a star, Makes no difference who you are,Anything your heart desires will come to you.”  When this message goes unchallenged, it’s very easy to carry it into our faith. Merely substitute “Pray to Jesus” for “Wish upon a star” and you have the formula for much of American Christianity.  As we explore the idol of dreams, and how many religious communities misread Scripture to make God into a tool we employ in pursuit of our dreams, begin by thinking about the films or television shows you’ve watched recently. How was the “Follow your dreams” message subtly or overtly communicated? What is good—and what might be dangerous—about that message? DAILY SCRIPTURE ACTS 8:9–24 JEREMIAH 23:16–22 WEEKLY PRAYER. Thomas à Kempis (1380–1471) O most gracious God, enlighten our minds that we may know you, and let us not be unfruitful in that knowledge. Lord, work in our hearts a true faith, a purifying hope, and an unfeigned love for you. Give us full trust in you, zeal for you, reverence of all things that relate to you. Make us fearful to offend you, thankful for your mercies, humble under your corrections, devout in your service, and sorrowful for our sins. Help us, O Lord, to act towards our neighbor that we may never transgress your royal law, of loving him as ourselves. Finally, O Lord, sanctify us throughout, that our whole spirit, soul, and body, may be preserved blameless until the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ; to whom with you and the Holy Spirit be all honor and glory forever. Amen.

Monday, December 30, 2024

Brian McLaren welcomes us to this year’s Daily Meditations theme: Being Salt and Light: 

In 2024 with the theme “Radical Resilience,” we considered how we could bounce back from setbacks and remain strong in difficult times. In 2025, we’d like to go beyond just surviving difficult times. We’d like to focus on being a presence in this world that radiates and flavors the world with divine love, a warm and healing presence to a world that is dealing with so much. “Being Salt and Light” will be our theme for the Daily Meditations in 2025. It’s a contemplative way of seeing the world that leads to an active way of being in the world as a warm and loving presence, radiant with the light of love and truth, salty with justice and compassion, flavorful as salt that preserves and enhances all that is good in the world. [1] 

Father Richard Rohr reflects on what it means to live as “salt of the earth”:  

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says that those who live the Beatitudes will be “the salt of the earth” (Matthew 5:13). What does he mean by such an image?  

First of all, he’s not saying that those who live this way are going to heaven. He is saying that they will be a certain kind of gift for the earth. What a misinterpretation has been handed on, again and again! We think of Jesus’ teaching as a set of prescriptions for getting to heaven (even though we haven’t followed them.) No, the Sermon on the Mount and especially the Beatitudes are a set of descriptions of a free life. 

When we can weep, when we can identify with the little ones, when we can make peace, when we can be persecuted and still be joyful—then we are doing it right. He’s saying this is what holiness will look like. When we act this way, “the reign of God is among you” (Luke 17:21).  

“If salt becomes tasteless, how can we salt the world with it?” asks Jesus. That message seems especially true today. If we no longer believe the gospel, if we no longer believe in nonviolence and powerlessness, then who’s going to convert us? We’re supposed to be the leaven of the world, yet if we no longer believe in the gospel, what hope do we have of offering anything new to anyone else?  

By calling his disciples “salt of the earth,” Jesus isn’t saying they’re the saved ones. He never tries to create a “members-only” club. Jesus consistently says that God loves those on the outside just as much as God loves the supposed insiders; that there’s just as much mercy out there as in here among Jesus’ closest followers. In fact, there are no insiders or outsiders! Jesus calls us to creative self-criticism and gives us the capacity for self-regeneration. As long as some people hold on to the upside-down wisdom of the gospel, it will be enough to flavor the whole meal of life.  

____________________________________________________________

Being Salt and Light

Sunday, December 29, 2024

CAC Dean of Faculty Brian McLaren shares the inspiration for the 2025 Daily Meditations theme, Being Salt and Light:   

When I was a teenager, the idea of religion making you different was not a new idea to me. Unfortunately, in my experience, religion made you different in an odd, outdated, and maybe even harsh and judgmental way. To be a Christian was to hold yourself above and apart from secular people and people of other faiths…. But one of my spiritual mentors, Rod, said something very different: Most of your fellow students are trying their hardest to be cool, but you can choose a different goal. You can make it your ambition to be warm—a warm and loving presence in the world as Jesus was. Rod believed that our calling was to be joyfully in the world in deep solidarity with our neighbors, loving them as equals rather than considering ourselves holier than thou and therefore better than them. Rather than judging them or evaluating them for where they fit on our scales or standards, Rod recommended that we compassionately understand every person we encounter, approaching everyone, no exceptions, with empathy. 

Of course, Rod was just echoing what Jesus said in the most intense, concentrated example of his public teaching we call the Sermon on the Mount (see Matthew 5:1–12). The sermon begins with a set of sayings that begin with “Blessed are …”. Most people interpret these statements as a way of saying, God blesses these people to the exclusion of others.  

I’ve come to understand the Beatitudes as a way of saying something very different. The Beatitudes say, We, in this new movement, bless the very people who are usually excluded. Jesus says, In this movement, we bless the poor and the poor in spirit. We bless those who mourn, we bless the meek or gentle, we bless those who hunger and thirst for justice. We bless the merciful and the pure in heart. We bless the peacemakers and those who are persecuted for standing up for justice. And then Jesus continues: We see the world differently because we bless people who are usually forgotten, despised, or excluded. That different way of seeing the world leads to a different way of being in the world. Here are Jesus’ exact words to describe this: 

You are the salt of the earth, but if the salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. People do not light a lamp and put it under a bushel basket; rather, they put it on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:13–16).  

___________________________________________________

Sarah Young; Jesus Calling: December 30

I am Leading You along a way that is uniquely right for you. The closer to Me you grow, the more fully you become your true self–the one I designed you to be. Because you are one of a kind, the path you are traveling with Me diverges increasingly from that of other people. However, in My mysterious wisdom and ways, I enable you to follow this solitary path while staying in close contact with others. In fact, the more completely you devote yourself to Me, the more freely you can love people.
     Marvel at the beauty of a life intertwined with My Presence. Rejoice as we journey together in intimate communion. Enjoy the adventure of finding yourself through losing yourself in Me.

RELATED SCRIPTURE:

2nd Corinthians 5:17 (NLT)
17 This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!

Ephesians 2:10 (NLT)
10 For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

1st John 4:7-8 (NLT)
Loving One Another
7 Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God. 8 But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love.

John 15:4 (NLT)
4 Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me.

The Divine in This and in Us

Friday, December 27, 2024

Father Richard identifies God’s presence with us—right here, right now—in an embodied way.  

Most religious people I’ve met—from sincere laypeople to priests and nuns—still imagine God to be elsewhere. Before we can take the “now” seriously, we must shift from thinking of God as “out there” to also knowing God “in here.” In fact, here is the best access point! Only inner experience can bring healing to the human-divine split.  

Transformation comes by realizing our union with God right here, right now—regardless of any performance or achievement on our part. That’s the core meaning of grace, and we have to know this for ourselves. No one can do this knowing for us. I could say as many times as I want that God is not elsewhere and heaven is not later, but until someone comes to personally and regularly experience that, they will not believe it. 

Authentic Christianity overcame the “God-is-elsewhere” idea in at least two major and foundational ways. Through the incarnation, God in Jesus became flesh; God visibly moved in with the material world to help us overcome the illusion of separation (John 1:14). Secondly, God as Holy Spirit is precisely known as an indwelling and vitalizing presence. By itself, intellectual assent to these two truths does little. The incarnation and Indwelling Spirit are known only through participation and practice, as we actively draw upon such Infinite Sources. Think of it as a “use it or lose it” situation! 

Good theology helps us know that we can fully trust the “now” because of the incarnation and the Spirit within us. I hope it doesn’t shock anyone to hear me say this: it’s like making love. We can’t be fully intimate with someone through vague, amorphous energy; we need close, concrete, particular connections. That’s how our human brains are wired. 

Jesus teaches and is himself a message of now-ness, here-ness, concreteness, and this-ness. Virtually the only time Jesus talks about future time is when he tells us not to worry about it (see Matthew 6:25–34). Don’t worry about times and seasons, don’t worry about when God will return, don’t worry about tomorrow. Thinking about the future keeps us in our heads, far from presence—with God, with ourselves, and with each other. Jesus talks about the past in terms of forgiving it. Jesus tells us to hand the past over to the mercy and action of God. [1] 

The full and participatory meaning of Christmas is that this one universal mystery of divine incarnation is also intended for us and continues in us! It is not just about trusting the truth of the body of Jesus, but trusting its extension through the ongoing Body of Christ—which is an even bigger act of faith, hope, and love and which alone has the power to change history, society, and all relationships. To only hold a mental belief in Jesus as the “Child of God” has little or no effect in the real world. [2] 

______________________________________________________________

Skye Jethani

Dec 27, 2024
The Idol of Status: Choosing Humility

I first encountered the writings of Henri Nouwen as a college student in the mid-1990s. Up to that time, my vision of the Christian life had been deeply formed and influenced by American culture. This meant my faith was an odd amalgamation of the Bible and American values like individualism, consumerism, and entrepreneurialism. For this reason, I assumed God called every Christian to a life of ever-increasing influence and impact, and those Christians who achieved the most for God were to be most celebrated. That is how status was measured in the American Christian subculture.

Then the voice of a Dutch Roman Catholic priest entered my world and quietly began to dismantle those assumptions. Henri Nouwen was unlike any Christian leader I had encountered before. He was not dynamic in his speaking, evangelical in his theology, or entrepreneurial in his ministry like the mega-pastors that dominated the 1990s, and Nouwen spoke far more about intimacy with God than impacting the world for him.

Beyond his very unfamiliar way—at least to me—of framing the Christian life, I was inspired by Nouwen’s own story. Despite his focus on the inner life of the soul, Nouwen lived with deep insecurities and an insatiable need for approval—shortcomings he acknowledged and wrote about transparently. He struggled with depression and anxiety, and while his drive for significance landed him a professorship at Harvard University, the cost to his health nearly killed him. Nouwen was a paradox; a living contradiction—and therefore a Christian mentor I could relate with.

But what caught my imagination most was Nouwen’s decision to abandon his post at Harvard at the height of his success and influence. Rather than represent the way of Jesus at the very top of the ivory tower, he became a pastor and caregiver at L’Arche, a home for mentally disabled adults. By moving from Harvard to L’Arche, Nouwen willingly left everything the world esteems to be counted among those the world ignores. His life of downward mobility not only contradicted the popular American narrative of success, influence, and ever-increasing impact, it also confronted my immature assumption that God always calls us to more power and more influence, and never less. Nouwen both exposed and denounced my idol of status.

It’s appropriate to reflect on Henri Nouwen’s story this week because it so obviously parallels Jesus’ story. The incarnation is about downward mobility, of Jesus’ choice to exchange the glories of divinity for the obscurities of humanity, ultimately accepting the indignities of the cross. Like Nouwen, Christmas reminds us that God’s kingdom is more easily discovered among those at the bottom, and is often rejected by those at the top. And the incarnation confronts our American values of “more,” “greater,” and “bigger,” by reminding us that the way of Jesus is about the status we surrender not the status we achieve.

DAILY SCRIPTURE

Philippians 2:5-11
John 1:1-14

WEEKLY PRAYER

Soren Kierkegaard (1813–1855)

O Lord Jesus Christ, I long to live in your presence, to see your human form and to watch you walking on earth. I do not want to see you through the darkened glass of tradition, nor through the eyes of today’s values and prejudices. I want to see you as you were, as you are, and as you always will be. I want to see you as an offense to human pride, as a man of humility, walking amongst the lowliest of men, and yet as the savior and redeemer of the human race.
Amen.

Writer and activist Kelley Nikondeha reminds us of the location of Jesus’ birth in occupied territory:  

Advent narratives reveal the Incarnation as more than God entering a human frame. They are also the revelation of God engaging with human trauma of a specific place and specific people. God experienced the excruciating reality of empires and economies from the position of the weak and powerless ones. God absorbed loss and pain in that body.  

The Incarnation positions Jesus among the most vulnerable people, the bereft and threatened of society. The first advent shows God wrestling with the struggles common to many the world over. And from this disadvantaged stance, Jesus lives out God’s peace agenda as a counter-testimony to Caesar’s peace. [1] 

Liberation theologian Gustavo Gutiérrez (1928–2024) encourages us to reflect on the implications of Jesus being born as part of an oppressed community:  

There, on the fringe of society, “the Word became history, contingency, solidarity, and weakness; but we can say, too, that by this becoming, history itself, our history, became Word.” [2]  

It is often said at Christmastime that Jesus is born into every family and every heart. But these “births” must not make us forget the primordial, massive fact that Jesus was born of Mary among a people that at the time were dominated by the greatest empire of the age. If we forget that fact, the birth of Jesus becomes an abstraction, a symbol, a cipher.… To the eyes of Christians the incarnation is the irruption of God into human history: an incarnation into littleness and service in the midst of the overbearing power exercised by the mighty of this world; an irruption that smells of the stable…. 

It is in the concrete setting and circumstances of our lives that we must learn to believe: under oppression and repression but also amid the struggles and hopes that are alive … under dictatorships that sow death among the poor, and under the “democracies” that often deal unjustly with their needs and dreams. [3]  

Nikondeha shares the empowering hope of incarnation:  

This is the story of advent: we join Jesus as incarnations of God’s peace on this earth for however long it takes. God walks in deep solidarity with humanity, sharing in our sufferings and moments of hope. Amid our hardship, God is with us. Emmanuel remains the name on our lips in troubled times.  

Advent isn’t the acceptance of status-quo peace, but an incarnation of God’s peace that we live in the world. The peacemakers formed by advent are those who resist empire, who practice hospitality with neighbors, and who enter into solidarity with God in the work of liberation for everyone.  

May there be calm, bright nights ahead for the peacemakers, the meek, and all people God accompanies through advent still. [4] 

______________________________________________

Skye Jethani 12.26.24

Dec 26, 2024
The Idol of Status: Caesar’s Humiliation

We’ve been formed to view Christmas as a time for family traditions, shopping, and to remember the “good news” of Jesus’ birth. Christmas is not typically associated with revolutions, social upheaval, and the overthrow of false idols. But when we remove our sentimental 20th century lenses, and read the nativity narratives in the Bible the way the earliest Christians did, we discover a few surprises.

For example, the angel’s greeting to the shepherds outside Bethlehem is a scene we’ve encountered many times in Christmas pageants, movies, and holiday TV specials. “Fear not,” the angel said, “for behold, I bring you good news of great joy for all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord….”

When we hear these words, we are more likely to conjure images of Charlie Brown in our imaginations than anything related to their actual historical or cultural context. The angel’s message has been so sentimentalized that we have lost sight of how treasonous it was. And we have so spiritualized the birth of Jesus that we ignore the political turmoil his arrival unleashed. But these ideas would not have been lost on the shepherds.

The angel’s description of Jesus’ birth deliberately used highly inflammatory, and politically charged language reserved for Rome’s emperor. Years earlier, Caesar Augustus’ birth had been announced throughout the empire as “good news” (literally the “gospel”), and he was celebrated for bringing “peace on earth” through his military conquests. He was also the son of Julius Caesar who was worshipped as a deity. Therefore, Augustus was called the “son of god.” And, of course, the way one expressed loyalty to Rome was with the declaration, “Ceasar is Lord!”

So, when the angel announced the “good news” about the birth of “Christ the Lord” who would bring “peace on earth” it was a deliberate denunciation of the Roman emperor. In a rather cheeky way, the heavenly messenger used Ceasar’s own campaign slogans but applied them to Jesus. This would have been heard by the shepherds as profoundly political and subversive. A revolution was underway. The true King and real Son of God had arrived, and all imposters were being put on notice. As Simeon declared when the infant Jesus was brought to the temple, “This child is appointed for the fall and rising of many” (Luke 2:34). In other words, Jesus was going to turn the world upside down.

We mustn’t fall into a narrow, modern, and sentimental vision of Christmas. Jesus did not come to only address the “spiritual” challenges we face. He came to be Lord over all things whether spiritual, material, temporal, eternal, or political. And to knock down every idol we have exalted.

DAILY SCRIPTURE

Luke 2:8-14
Psalm 47:1-9

WEEKLY PRAYER

Soren Kierkegaard (1813–1855)

O Lord Jesus Christ, I long to live in your presence, to see your human form and to watch you walking on earth. I do not want to see you through the darkened glass of tradition, nor through the eyes of today’s values and prejudices. I want to see you as you were, as you are, and as you always will be. I want to see you as an offense to human pride, as a man of humility, walking amongst the lowliest of men, and yet as the savior and redeemer of the human race.
Amen.

Beyond Sentimentality

Father Richard urges Christians to move beyond sentimentality to a mature understanding of the implications of the incarnation: 

We must move beyond a merely sentimental understanding of Christmas as “waiting for the baby Jesus” to an adult and communal appreciation of the message of the incarnation of God in Christ. We Franciscans have always believed that the incarnation was already the redemption, because in Jesus’ birth God was saying that it was good to be human, and God was on our side. 

Jesus identified his own mission with what he called the coming “reign of God.” We have often settled instead for the sweet coming of a baby who asked little of us in terms of surrender, encounter, mutuality, or any assent to the actual teachings of Jesus. Too much sentimentality, or juicing up of our emotions, can be a substitute for an actual relationship, as we also see in our human relationships. When we are so infatuated with the “sweetness” or “perfection” of another, we easily “fall” out of love at the first sign of their humanity. Let’s not let that happen with the infinitely compelling person of Jesus! 

The celebration of Christmas is not exclusively a sentimental waiting for a baby to be born. It is much more an asking for history to be born! Creation groans in its birth pains, waiting for our participation with God in its renewal (see Romans 8:20–23). We do the gospel no favor when we make Jesus, the Eternal Christ, into a perpetual baby, who asks little or no adult response from us. One even wonders what kind of mind would want to keep Jesus a baby. Maybe only one that is content with “baby Christianity.” 

Any spirituality that makes too much of the baby Jesus is perhaps not yet ready for “prime-time” life. If we are to believe the biblical texts, God clearly wants friends and partners to be images of divinity. God, it seems, wants mature religion and a thoughtful, free response from us. God loves us in partnership, with mutual give and take, and we eventually become images of the God that we love.  

The Christ we are asking and waiting for includes our own full birth and the further birth of history and creation. To this adult and Cosmic Christ we can say, “Come, Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22:20) with a whole new understanding and a deliberate passion. This makes our entire lives, and the life of the church, one huge “advent.” 

The Christ includes the whole sweep of creation and history joined with him—and each of us, too. This is the Universal (or Cosmic) Christ. [1] We ourselves are members of the Body of Christ and the Universal Christ, even though we are not the historical Jesus. So we very rightly believe in “Jesus Christ,” and both words are essential.  ====================

The Idol of Status: Joseph’s Humility

Click Here for Audio Joseph had his dilemma figured out. He planned to quietly divorce Mary and preserve his righteous reputation. After all, he couldn’t wed a pregnant woman—the scandal for his family would be devastating, particularly in an honor-shame-based communal culture like ancient Judea. Like most men, Joseph was determined to protect his status above all else. Then the angel visited him in a dream telling him not to abandon Mary. I wonder if Joseph felt more peace before or after the angel’s message? Before the angel, he had an honorable solution to the status threat posed by his pregnant fiancé. After the angel, his life became far more difficult not less. God was asking him to sacrifice his reputation and his family’s status and venture into an uncertain future with a disgraced teenage mother and an illegitimate child. It turned out that God, not Mary, was the real threat to Joseph’s status.Despite this incredibly difficult and dangerous choice, “When Joseph awoke from his sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him, and took Mary as his wife.” He went from choosing what was easier to choosing what was harder. Despite his fears, doubts, and concerns, Joseph trusted the living God of Israel rather than the false god of status. What gave Joseph the faith and courage to make this counter-cultural decision? It was the assurance of God’s presence. While the easier road would be abandoning Mary, Joseph knew on the harder road he would be traveling with God.Many contemporary Christians have accepted the false idea that a life with Christ will be more comfortable and demonstrably better (as the world defines “better”) than a life without him. And in more “churched” communities, being identified as a Christian is a way to boost one’s status. But what we find in the New Testament is the opposite. Those called to be with Jesus suffered, sacrificed, and often died. Why did so many, like Joseph, choose this harder road? Why were they willing to reject the idol of status to be ridiculed, mocked, and rejected? Because they recognized the surpassing value of being with God above all else. DAILY SCRIPTURE MATTHEW 1:18-25 ISAIAH 41:8-14 WEEKLY PRAYER. Soren Kierkegaard (1813–1855) O Lord Jesus Christ, I long to live in your presence, to see your human form and to watch you walking on earth. I do not want to see you through the darkened glass of tradition, nor through the eyes of today’s values and prejudices. I want to see you as you were, as you are, and as you always will be. I want to see you as an offense to human pride, as a man of humility, walking amongst the lowliest of men, and yet as the savior and redeemer of the human race. Amen.

Author Cole Arthur Riley reflects on how the incarnation of Jesus in Mary invites us to radically embrace our own embodiment: 

I have often wondered if Mary, even with full knowledge and proclamation of the glory of her womb, felt shame for it. As her body changed and belly grew, did she question if it was worthy to hold the divine?… Or did she see her flesh for what it was—holy? Weak, powerful, human, and holy.  

For me, the story of God becoming body is only matched by God’s submission to the body of a woman. That the creator of the cosmos would choose to rely on an embodied creation. To be grown, fed, delivered—God put faith in a body. In Mary’s muscles and hormones, bowels and breasts. And when Christ’s body is broken and blood shed, we should hold in mystery that first a woman’s body was broken, her blood shed, in order to deliver the hope of the world into the world.  

We are remarkably material beings. When we speak of bearing the image of God, I believe no small part of that is a physical bearing. You may have heard it said, “You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.” I’m not sure exactly where this notion came from, but the sentiment survives. Many of us, in pursuit of the spiritual, become woefully neglectful of the physical. We concern ourselves with a doctrine of salvation that is oriented around one underlying hope: heaven. And our concepts of heaven are often disembodied—a spiritual goal to transcend the material world eternally…. 

Our tales of Christian escapism lead us to the place where the physical is damned and the immaterial is gloried. Where the only holy things are invisible. How could you expect me to believe this when I’ve met a God who drank from the breast of his creation? [1] 

Riley offers this Advent prayer, reminding us to honor experiences of our own helplessness:  

God of the womb, 

It is not lost on us that you submitted to the body of a woman, trusting in it to protect and grow you. As we remember the nine months you dwelt in the womb, the body of God being nurtured and carried, remind us that our own bodies are worthy of such care and tenderness. May this be a season of sacred pause, as we allow time to be near to our own bodies, to protect and strengthen them. In a world that demands so much of us, remind us that Christ did not come to us in physical independence, allowing the world to take and use him without limitation. Show us the face of the Christ who was gravely dependent, who needed to be held, fed, washed. Who needed to be soothed and rocked to sleep. If we are to honor the divine in us, may it be this divinity—fully embodied, fully dignified in the body. Amen.

==================

From Nadia Bolz Weber

A Short Christmas Message I’m Offering Today Inside The Denver Women’s Prison 

Years ago I was part of a church that had what was called a “Living Nativity”. A manger was set up in the parking lot, complete with straw and some live animals from a local farm. Members of the church would take 30 minute shifts standing there dressed as Mary, Joseph, shepherds or wise men, and folks from town would drive by for a look.

One year I was inside helping with costumes when a 6 year little boy came in from his shift. I said “Hey Tommy, how’d you like being a shepherd in the living nativity?” “It was ok, I guess” he replied, “but next year, I think I want to be a pirate”

You know, the pirate who was at the birth of our Lord.

Since the Christmas stories from Luke and Matthew that we just heard are so different from each other, it can be hard to keep track, but I’m pretty sure there was not a pirate mentioned.

I actually love that we have two different accounts of what happened that first Christmas. They both have their charm and their own power. But this year for some reason, I’ve not spent much time in those stories, they don’t have the same draw as they have before. I’ve mostly been drawn to the Christmas story in John. There’s no manger or angels in that one just these mystical verses:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in darkness, and the darkness has not overpowered it…

And the Word became flesh and lived among us and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

It is this story about the birth of Christ that I couldn’t stop thinking about on Saturday – because Saturday was the Winter Solstice, the very longest night of the year. And man did I feel it. These short days and long night are brutal. And I know being in prison is brutal and being in prison on Christmas is brutal. Raise your hand if this is the first Christmas you’ve been down. Please know that there are women here who know how to get through Christmas in prison and do it sober and without hurting yourself or anyone else. Raise your hand if you have done this before and can support women who are struggling. Look around.

I know today can be rough and that you miss your parent and children and grandchildren. And nothing I can say from this pulpit can change that.

But last Saturday night in the darkness of the longest night, these words from John were on repeat in my head: A light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overpowered it.

This is the thing about light my friends, even the tiniest bit of light scatters the deepest darkness. It never happens the other way around. Never. Darkness has no effect on light. Darkness cannot touch it, cannot extinguish it, cannot do a thing to it.

This is all I have to say to you this Christmas. What happened the night Christ was born over 2,000 years ago and 6,877 miles away is still visible. Like a star. 

If you remember how the story goes, they tried to kill him and it didn’t work. They arrested him, put him on trial (didn’t even have an overworked PD to defend him), they beat him, stripped him, mocked him, killed him and put him in a grave and even then the light still shone. He rose from the tomb shining bright as ever.

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.

Darkness thinks it’s so clever, doesn’t it…thinks it’s so powerful. But compared to the light of Christ, It ain’t shit. Not really.

If there is anything I want you to hear this Christmas it’s that.

A light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overpower it.

A light shines in this world and this world cannot overpower it.

A light shines in you and you cannot overpower it.

A light shines in your depression and your depression cannot overpower it.

A light shines in ¹ad seg and ad seg cannot overpower it.

A light shines in the Colorado Department of Corrections and the Colorado Department of Corrections cannot overpower it.

Merry Christmas, beautiful children of God. May the light of Christ scatter the darkness in your hearts and minds. Even if it doesn’t feel like it, may you remember that the days are getting longer now. And as always, may your soul feel its worth.

Amen.

Pass this on to someone you think would dig it:

Father Richard Rohr shares what Christ’s incarnation offers to all humanity:   

Since the very beginning of time, God’s Spirit has been revealing its glory and goodness through the physical creation. Christians believe that this universal Christ presence was later “born of a woman under the law” (Galatians 4:4) in a moment of chronological time. This is the great Christian leap of faith!  

We daringly believe that God’s presence was poured into a single human being, so that humanity and divinity can be seen to be operating as one in him—and therefore in us! Instead of saying that God came into the world through Jesus, maybe it would be better to say that Jesus came out of an already Christ-soaked world. The second incarnation flowed out of the first, out of God’s loving union with physical creation. [1]  

Through his incarnated presence, Jesus offered the world a living example of fully embodied love that emerged out of ordinary, limited life situations. For me, this is the real import of Paul’s statement that Jesus was “born of a woman under the law.” In Jesus, God became part of our small, homely world and entered into human limits and ordinariness—and remained anonymous and largely invisible for his first thirty years. Throughout his life, Jesus himself spent no time climbing, but a lot of time descending, “emptying himself and becoming as all humans are” (Philippians 2:7), “tempted in every way that we are” (Hebrews 4:15) and “living in the limitations of weakness” (Hebrews 5:2).  

Jesus walked, enjoyed, and suffered the entire human journey, and he told us that we could and should do the same. His life exemplified the unfolding mystery in all of its stages—from a hidden, divine conception, to a regular adult life full of love and problems, punctuated by a few moments of transfiguration and enlightenment, and all leading to glorious ascension and final return. As Hebrews 4:15 states, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weakness, but we have one who was like us in every way, experienced every temptation, and never backtracked” (my translation). Jesus’ life reveals that we don’t need to be afraid of the depths and breadths of our own lives, of what this world offers us or asks of us. We are given permission to become intimate with our own experiences, learn from them, and allow ourselves to descend to the depth of things, even our mistakes, before we try too quickly to transcend it all in the name of some idealized purity or superiority. God hides in the depths—even the depths of our sins—and is not seen as long as we stay on the surface of anything. 

Making Room for God’s Presence

What if, instead of doing something, we were to be something special? Be womb. Be dwelling for God. Be recollected, and be surprised.
—Loretta Ross-Gotta, Letters from the Holy Ground  

Author and CAC staff member Mark Longhurst writes: 

Christmas is usually more than I prepare for and requires more space than I, as part of the overly-filled middle class, often have to give. That’s why the ancient hymn sings out, of Mary, “Hail, space for the uncontained God.” [1] God needs space to expand and contract, just as does the universe, and yet there’s so little space to breathe in our days. [2] 

Spiritual director Loretta Ross-Gotta reflects on a deeper meaning of Mary’s virginity—being “recollected” through single-hearted love:  

To be virgin means to be one, whole in oneself, not perforated by the concerns of the conventional norms and authority, or the powers and principalities. To be virgin, then, is in a sense to be recollected…. Because Mary is recollected, she is able to take hold of God….  

We think we have to make Christmas come, which is to say we think we have to bring about the redemption of the universe on our own. When all God needs is a willing womb, a place of safety, nourishment, and love. “Oh, but nothing will get done,” you say. “If I don’t do it, Christmas won’t happen.” And we crowd out Christ with our fretful fears.  

God asks us to give away everything of ourselves. The gift of greatest efficacy and power that we can offer God and creation is not our skills, gifts, abilities, and possessions…. Those are all gifts well worth sharing…. In the end, when all other human gifts have met their inevitable limitation, it is the recollected one, the bold virgin with a heart in love with God who makes a sanctuary of her life who delivers Christ who then delivers us. [3] 

Longhurst invites us to expand our ideas about the meaning of Christmas: 

Christmas is about a baby, but it’s also about the soul. Mary mirrors the soul’s yes to God. Christmas is about the soul, but it’s also about peace. Christmas is about peace, but not the comfortable peace of the privileged, or the sappy peace of holiday cards and church pageants, but peace as wholeness and healing of the seeds of violence. It’s also about justice, and not justice cloaked as the authoritarian abuse of power, or justice as righteous license to tear down every group but your own, but justice as compassion enacted in protection for the poor and vulnerable, which we still must believe is possible….  

Mary says, “Yes,” and in saying “Yes” becomes the mother not only of Christ, but of all who say, “Yes” to birthing God…. The same vital presence pulsing within Mary is the same vital presence arising in our hearts, is the same vital presence we desperately need to dream and enact a new future together. On such silent and holy nights, God the Mother initiates us as mothers, too.

=============

Learning from the Mystics: Meister Eckhart, OP

Quote of the Week: “A human being has so many skins inside, covering the depths of the heart. We know so many things, but we don’t know ourselves! Why, thirty or forty skins or hides, as thick and hard as an ox’s or bear’s, cover the soul. Go into your own ground and learn to know yourself there. “Reflection:  “The Ground of the Soul” was Meister Eckhart’s favorite title and naming of the deepest reality within a human person. In most of his writings and sermons, he references this deep reality, the strangeness of that land, and the difficulty of finding it.  During Meister Eckhart’s day and age, there was the rise of a form of capitalism that had not been seen before.  It was voracious and constantly expanding, bringing new commerce but also a new type of person… The new type of person was not a foreigner or a traveller, but a kind of surface personality that was simply trying to make a sale.  It was as if within Meister Eckhart’s own lifetime he noticed a decrease of genuine human interaction.  With this also came the loss of authentic relationships between people, themselves, and with God. For Meister Eckhart, this was an absolute tragedy. No true friendship with oneself, others and God is possible when there are “thirty or forty skins or hides… covering the soul.” No authentic spirituality or even humanity is possible when there are so many degrees of separation from authenticity.  Only rarely, and when there is sufficient trust to be vulnerable, will someone be willing to look out from behind the curtain and show their “true face,” the “face they had before the world told them to wear a mask.” It is difficult to even notice all the layers that one has built up, but we all know the tenacity, bravery, and welcome that we experience when we meet someone who authentically knows themselves and therefore can authentically know others and God. Shuck off all the skins and hides, thick and hard as wild beasts, and uncover your soul.  It is suffocating to be buried under so much, and go to the ground of your soul and learn to sit there with Grace and Truth… and you may find that God has been there all along. Prayer  Heavenly Father, we admit that we do not know ourselves, and this leads us to be unable to know others or even You authentically.  Help us to cast off all the masks, facades, skins, hides, curtains, that keep us separated from ourselves.  Grant that we might live in Grace and Truth toward ourselves as You already do, and may this process be one in which we find full freedom to love and be loved.  In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen and amen.

Life Overview:  Who Were They: Eckhart von Hochheim, later to be known as Meister Eckhart, OP (Order of Preachers aka Dominicans).  Where: Born near Gotha, Landgraviate of Thuringia (now Germany).  Died in Avignon, Kingdom of Arles (now France).   When: 1260-1328AD  Why He is Important: Without a doubt, Meister Eckhart was misunderstood in his day and age.  He was almost excommunicated but that was largely due to the Inquisition not being able to understand the complexity and paradox of his teaching.  Over time, he has come to be known as an impressive figure of theology and spirituality.   What Was Their Main Contribution: Meister Eckhart is most known for being a Dominican monk who understood the Christian faith with “an eastern mind.”  He often taught through paradox and what has come to be known as “non-dual” thinking (rising above either/or conceptualizations). Books to Check Out: Meister Eckhart’s Book of the Heart: Meditations of the Restless Soul Dangerous Mystic: Meister Eckhart’s Path to the God Within by Joel Harrington Meister Eckhart, from Whom God Hid Nothing: Sermons, Writings and Sayings

Friday, December 20, 2024

CAC teacher Jim Finley describes how God knows each of us intimately because we are “hidden with Christ in God”: 

When God created you, God did not have to think up who you might be. God … eternally knows who you eternally are and are called to be from before the origins of the universe. As Saint Paul says, “Your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3).  

Who God the [Creator] eternally contemplates you to be in Christ the Word is who you are before you were ever born…. There was never a point prior to which God did not eternally know you in Christ the Word through whom all things are made. The infinite simplicity of God admits no division. In this poetic meditation on your true self before you were born is a meditation on you in God as God, in no way other or less than all that God is.  

Our response to God’s love for us can result in our giving our lives back to God: 

In creating you as a person, God the Father [or Mother] wills into being who [God] eternally knows you to be in Christ the Word. God’s … fiat [“let it be”] of creation … brings you into being, giving you a nature…. In your human nature you are a finite creature of God endowed with the capacity to know and to love. Why? So that you might, through your human nature, come to know God by learning to love God and to give yourself back to God, who is the origin, ground, and fulfillment of your life as a person created by God … through Christ the Word.  

Finley reflects on how meditation may allow us to experience our oneness with God:  

Moments of spontaneous meditative experience can be understood as flash points of awareness as the person we are breaks forth into human consciousness. Suddenly, we realize a oneness with God that we intuitively recognize to be at once God’s identity and our own. In moments of meditative awakening we obscurely sense that who we are and who God is is, in some inscrutable manner, one mystery. Sustained in this awareness, we realize that if we were to try to find ourselves as someone other than God, we would search in vain. If we were to search for God as other than ourselves, our search would be equally futile. For we realize that God is given to us, wholly and completely, in a oneness that is at once all that God is and all that we really are. We are not God. But we are not other than God, either. We as persons are who God eternally knows us to be in [God’s] infinite knowing of [God’s] infinite actuality. And in this paradoxical truth lies the essence of what it means to be a human being destined for eternal oneness with God.  

___________________________________________________________

Dec 20, 2024
The Idol of Comfort: The Power of Contentment

I’ve seen it on posters, mugs, jewelry, magnets, church websites, and countless memes. Celebrities post it on their social media accounts and athletes paint it on their eye black. Steph Curry has it embossed on his basketball shoes, and it is the motto for almost every Christian youth sports league. I’m talking about words of the Apostle Paul in Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

It’s easy to see why the phrase is so appealing to achievement-focused Americans. It echoes our culture’s pioneering outlook that says barriers are made to be broken and nothing is impossible. It also identifies Jesus as our secret sauce—the Christian’s added edge when competing in sports, business, or the broader game of life. It is the pop gospel of American Christianity captured in a tweetable sound-bite.

But is that what Paul intended when he wrote the sentence? Remember, Philippians 4:13 wasn’t composed by Paul after he won a football game or when his ministry signed a television contract. He wrote it while awaiting execution in a Roman prison, and it’s only when the verse is read in that context that the apostle’s actual intent becomes clear.

The strength that Paul has received from Christ isn’t the strength of achievement but the strength of contentment. He was given the power of serenity even in the worst circumstances like hunger and poverty. This is the opposite of how many contemporary Christians employ his words. We see contentment as anti–American and celebrate those whose discontent drives them to achieve more both in the world and in ministry. In Philippians, Paul is not speaking about his ability to achieve all things, but rather his God-given power to endure all things. Properly understood, Philippians 4:13 is about learning to accept our losses, not a promise of God’s help to assure our victory.

When we twist this verse to prop up our culture’s false god of achievement, we miss how Paul’s remarkable message actually holds the key to toppling another cultural idol—comfort. We are driven to pursue comfort and safety because we fear pain and insecurity. Self-preservation keeps us from following in the steps of Jesus.

Having obeyed Jesus and experienced the worst the world can do, Paul exposes the lies of the idol of comfort. He reminds us that we can abandon safe, comfortable settings and faithfully step into difficult circumstances because Christ will give us the supernatural power of contentment—the ability to endure all things. The fact that Paul penned these words in a prison awaiting martyrdom only adds to the gravity of this truth.

DAILY SCRIPTURE

Philippians 4:10–13
1 Timothy 6:3–10

WEEKLY PRAYER

Blaise Pascal (1623–1662)

O Lord, let me not henceforth desire health or life except to spend them for you, with you, and in you. You alone know what is good for me; do therefore what seems best to you. Give to me or take from me; conform my will to yours; and grant that with humble and perfect submission and in holy confidence I may receive the orders of your eternal providence, and may equally adore all that comes to me from you; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

God’s plan for the fullness of times, to sum up all things in Christ, in heaven and on earth. —Ephesians 1:10 

The twentieth-century English mystic Caryll Houselander (1901–1954) describes how an ordinary underground train journey in London transformed into a powerful vision of Christ dwelling in all people.  

I was in an underground train, a crowded train in which all sorts of people jostled together, sitting and strap-hanging—workers of every description going home at the end of the day. Quite suddenly I saw with my mind, but as vividly as a wonderful picture, Christ in them all. But I saw more than that; not only was Christ in every one of them, living in them, dying in them, rejoicing in them, sorrowing in them—but because He was in them, and because they were here, the whole world was here too … all those people who had lived in the past, and all those yet to come.  

Houselander’s vision of the intimate presence of Christ in each person continued as she walked along the city streets:  

I came out into the street and walked for a long time in the crowds. It was the same here, on every side, in every passer-by, everywhere—Christ…. 

I saw too the reverence that everyone must have for a sinner; instead of condoning [their] sin, which is in reality [their] utmost sorrow, one must comfort Christ who is suffering in [them]. And this reverence must be paid even to those sinners whose souls seem to be dead, because it is Christ, who is the life of the soul, who is dead in them; they are His tombs, and Christ in the tomb is potentially the risen Christ…. 

Christ is everywhere; in Him every kind of life has a meaning and has an influence on every other kind of life…. Realization of our oneness in Christ is the only cure for human loneliness. For me, too, it is the only ultimate meaning of life, the only thing that gives meaning and purpose to every life. 

After a few days the “vision” faded. People looked the same again, there was no longer the same shock of insight for me each time I was face to face with another human being. Christ was hidden again; indeed, through the years to come I would have to seek for Him, and usually I would find Him in others—and still more in myself—only through a deliberate and blind act of faith.  

_____________________________________________________________

Sarah Young Jesus Calling

Make Me the focal point of your search for security. In your private thoughts, you are still trying to order your world so that it is predictable and feels safe. Not only is this an impossible goal, but it is also counterproductive to spiritual growth. When your private world feels unsteady and you grip My hand for support, you are living in conscious dependence on Me.
     Instead of yearning for a problem-free life, rejoice that trouble can highlight your awareness of My Presence. In the darkness of adversity, you are able to see more clearly the radiance of My Face. Accept the value of problems in this life, considering them pure joy. Remember that you have an eternity of trouble-free living awaiting you in heaven.

RELATED SCRIPTURE:

Isaiah 41:10 NLT
10 Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.

Additional insight regarding Isaiah 41:10: All believers are God’s chosen people, and all share the responsibility of representing Him to the world. One day God will bring all his faithful people together. We need not fear because (1) God is with us (“I am with you”); (2) God has established a relationship with us (“I am your God”); and (3) God gives us assurance of his strength, help, and victory over sin and death. Are you aware of all the ways God has helped you?

Psalm 139:10 (NLT)
10 even there your hand will guide me,
    and your strength will support me.

James 1:2 (NLT)
Faith and Endurance
2 Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.

Additional insight regarding James 1:2,3: James doesn’t say if trouble comes your way but when it does. He assumes that we will have troubles and that it is possible to profit from them with increased endurance. The point is not to pretend to be happy when we face pain but to have a positive outlook (“consider it an opportunity for great joy”) because of what troubles can produce in our life. James tells us to turn our hardships into times of learning. Tough times can teach us perseverance.

Additional insight regarding James 1:2-4: We can’t really know the depth of our character until we see how we react under pressure. It is easy to be kind to others when everything is going well, but can we still be kind when others are treating us unfairly? God wants to make us mature and complete, not to keep us from all pain. Instead of complaining about our struggles, we should see them as opportunities for growth. Thank God for promising to be with you in rough times. Ask him to help you solve your problems or give you strength to endure them. Then be patient. God will not leave you alone with your problems; he will stay close and help you grow.

I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in them will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing. —John 15:5  

Father Richard Rohr understands Jesus’ vine and branches metaphor as an illustration of mutual indwelling: Christ in us and us in Christ.  

The motivation, meaning, and inherent energy of any action comes from its ultimate source, which is the person’s foundational and core vantage point. What is their real and honest motivation? What does the seeing? Is it the cut-off branch, the egoic self, trying to work on its own (John 15:5–6)? Is it a person needing to be right or is it a person who wants to love?  

A branch that has remained lovingly and consciously connected to its Source (God, Jesus, our Higher Power) offers a very different perspective. When Jesus spoke of a cut-off branch, he meant a person who can only see from the small position of me and what meets my needs. It seems to me our society is largely populated by such disconnected branches, where a commitment to the common good has become a rarity. 

Seeing through a lens beyond our own self is what I call participative seeing.This is the new self that can say excitedly with Paul, “I live no longer, not I, but it is Christ now living in me” (Galatians 2:20). This primal communion immediately communicates a spaciousness, a joy, and a quiet contentment. It is not anxious, because the illusion of a gap between me and the world has already been overcome.  

A mature believer knows that it is impossible not to be connected to the Source, or to be “on the vine,” as Jesus says. But most people are not consciously there yet. They are not “saved” from themselves, which is the only thing we really need to be saved from. They do not yet live out of their objective, totally given, and unearned identity, “hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3).  

For most of us, our own deepest identity is still well hidden from us. Religion’s primary and irreplaceable job is to bring this foundational truth of our shared identity in God to full and grateful consciousness. This is the only true meaning of holiness.  

The irony is that this holiness is actually our first nature, yet we made it so impossible that it didn’t even become our second nature that we could easily wear with dignity. This core Christ identity was made into a worthiness contest, or a moral contest, at which almost no one wins. This is something we can only fall into and receive—and nothing that we can achieve, which utterly humiliates the ego, the willful, and all overachievers.  

================

The Idol of Comfort: A Self-Fulfilling Parable

Click Here for Audio A parable written by Reverend Dr. Theodore O. Wedel in 1953 has become part of the unofficial canon of American Christianity. I’ve heard the story, or some version of it, dozens of times in sermons, at missions conferences, and at retreats. Maybe you have too. Dr. Wedel’s parable compares the church to a life-saving station on a treacherous coastline where shipwrecks are common. “The building was just a hut, and there was only one boat,” he wrote, “but the few devoted members kept a constant watch over the sea, and with no thought for themselves, went out day and night tirelessly searching for the lost.”In Reverend Wedel’s story, the life-saving station had a simple, narrow mission to rescue souls. Frequent storm warnings kept the station on alert and focused on its mission, but when warnings became less urgent, or when fewer shipwrecks occurred, the life-saving station drifted from its only purpose. He wrote:“Some of the members of the life-saving station were unhappy that the building was so crude and poorly equipped. They felt that a more comfortable place should be provided as the first refuge for those saved from the sea. They replaced the emergency cots with beds and put better furniture in the enlarged building. Now the life-saving station became a popular gathering place for its members, and they decorated it beautifully because they used it as a sort of club.”Eventually, Wedel said, the station became so inwardly focused on its own comfort that it was no longer equipped to save lives. His parable concludes, “If you visit that sea coast today, you will find a number of exclusive clubs along the shore. Shipwrecks are frequent in those waters, but most of the people drown.”The story is meant as a rebuke of the church’s consumeristic pursuit of comfort. But what many miss is a subtle contradiction buried within Wedel’s metaphor. The premise of the parable is that the world is a sinking ship, and the desperate souls lost at sea are in urgent need of rescue to a safe, comfortable place. The story then chastises those same rescued souls for making their place of refuge too safe and toocomfortable. As A.W. Tozer observed, “You win them to what you win them with.”Everyone, it seems, likes to criticize the American church for its self-centered fixation on comfort, and most blame this on the influence of the wider culture. But could the problem actually be rooted in the American church’s own theology? If the implicit core of the church’s message is, “The world is a dangerous place, so come to Jesus to be safe and comfortable,” should we be surprised when Christians focus on safety and comfort? We cannot win converts with a message about comfort and then be appalled when they become Christians focused on comfort. To topple the idol of comfort, we need to recognize how it has infected even the Americanized gospel we preach, and that means returning to the message of Jesus and his Apostles—a message of sacrifice, self-denial, and the uncomfortable gospel that seeks to engage and redeem the world rather than help souls comfortably escape from it. In other words, maybe the church’s mission isn’t to rescue people off a sinking ship. Maybe we’re supposed to partner with Jesus to fix the ship. DAILY SCRIPTURE 2 CORINTHIANS 11:16–30 MATTHEW 10:16–39 WEEKLY PRAYERBlaise Pascal (1623–1662) O Lord, let me not henceforth desire health or life except to spend them for you, with you, and in you. You alone know what is good for me; do therefore what seems best to you. Give to me or take from me; conform my will to yours; and grant that with humble and perfect submission and in holy confidence I may receive the orders of your eternal providence, and may equally adore all that comes to me from you; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen