Author: Scott (aka Table97)

Grace leads and I stumble along...

The eyes of all

The sun stretches over the mountains
ready to offer this day a heartfelt hug.

Songs bounce on the wind from bird to bird to bird
to land in the ear of the Holy One.
Buds peak out of branches,
blushing against their grayish limbs.

Flowers – still waiting for showers of wind and rain

to baptize their petals – shout “Alleluia” nonetheless.

 

It’s the season of Lent – the world around me rejoices.

 

It’s the season of Lent – I shall join their chorus directed by God.

 

 

Based on Isaiah 49:8-15

© 2014, Scott Sears

Five Entrances to Healing

Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. 3 In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralysed.

Based on John 5:113, 5-16 (NRSVA)

The pool of healing

    is always before me

    and yet I sit in the portico

    waiting.

 

Perhaps I sit among my family – they love me,

    they cherish me just as I am
    yet I see their eyes darting from the pool to me, me to the pool.

 

Sometimes I rest among the portico of the very word of God.

    It brings me comfort.

    Yet, it too stirs waters

    within and without.

 

At time, I find my rest among covenant colleagues.

    I pray for them…they pray for me.

    We challenge and hold accountable.

    But would we carry each other to the healing water –

        stumbling, bumbling, tripping all the way?

        I like to think so…I like knowing it is so.

 

Other times I find myself resting in the

    busyness of The Work

    to which I am called.

    I visit…I pray…I produce…I fail to do something.

    And quietly (or not so quietly, actually) I bitch at myself

        for not doing more.

    I guess it’s easy in this crowded portico

        to direct those complaints at others I love.

 

And yet, there is one final entrance

    one portico to the pool of healing.

It must be the one where I find myself

    lounging in the shad the most…

    the one where I am alone…

    the one where I’ve grown comfortable…

    the one where I don’t have to change

        ’cause nothing else ever changes.

    The one where I hesitate the most – just like you.

 

Still. Still! Jesus comes and says,

    “Do you…Do you want to be well?”

 

The pool of healing

    is always before me

    and yet I sit in the portico

    waiting.

 

© 2014, Scott Sears

Stitches

Occasionally,
there are things that cut so deep
my body is in need of the healing power of stitches.

A knife slips while slicing onions,
and my watery eyes do not take note
of the quick movement
towards the taut, stretched skin of my finger.

[Shouted…] “Crap!”

Off to the healers for stiches.

Occasionally, words cut…
cut through the roughness and toughness
of my calloused exterior.
They find their way – these cutting, ripping words –
to a place deep inside
slipping inside my psyche
twisting in the depths of my soul.
A tongue slips during a time of greeting
to lodge an “observation”
about sloppiness and lack of attention
to detail.

That tongue slices through
my taunt, stretched smile
and lays bare the nerves that lie deep within.

Blood collects on my own bitten tongue

[Unspoken…] “Crap!”]

Off to the healers…for stitches.

“Thank you for offering kind words to my friend…”
“Thank you for checking on us and caring for us…”
“Thank you for sharing your story…”
“It’s nice to know we have a pastor who truly is human…”
“I love you, Daddy.”

 

©2014, Scott Sears

Inspired by www.pray-as-you-go.org and John 5:1-3, 5-16 (NRSVA)

Sacred Secrets…Scared People…Scarred Hope

http://www.iamacollyder.com/walk-in-the-light-as-he-is-in-the-light/

Some observations and reflections of a United Methodist pastor during the Lenten journey.

 

And yes…I get the irony of reflecting and judging…it’s never lost on me.

 

 

 

 

In a community that proclaims there is a Light brighter than any darkness that exists in the world, there remains a culture a secrets. I am no stranger to its perpetuation and continuation.

We cannot talk about ourselves – the selves Jesus knows and loves – our bare and naked souls – because others are always watching, always listening. And yes, some of them take notes.

We cannot even whisper about the God-felt plans and dreams we have for our flock because it may upset those who have power.

We cannot dare to mention the call change, for there are sheep for which we care that will become unsettled and move themselves to another community.

Good as we are at keeping secrets, we breed a herd that knows all too well how to keep the lid upon the Spirit. The flock that we serve often hid their own selves away in their lives, their families, their busy-ness. The leaders who stand both beside and above us in this mixed up world of pastor/supervisor dare not speak of their plans as well, but cloak them – just like me – in nuanced words and Sacred Secrets.

 

Why do we, the people of the Light of the universe persist in living so much of our faith life in secret? In a word – scared.

That’s who we really are so much of the time – scared, sacred secret keeps. So sacred, we ignore the nightmare that is us, we, me and I as well as the daybreak open sharing would bring and force ourselves back into the safety of that which we know best and can control…back into the darkness…back to sleep. Scared People.

As I travel through this Lenten season I think of myself, those I serve, and those who lead me and I see us all as the scared, sacred secret keepers that we are. And I pray. And I remember.

 

There is one who faced a terrible death. His life would be viewed as wasted. His dreams for people would be seen as undermining authority. His hopes for those around him – all of those around him – would be viewed as revolutionary. And he knew he would die.

And yet…he did not keep this future a secret from those who followed. He spoke freely of the future that awaited him. He would be handed over. They would scatter. He would be tried. They would betray. He would be beaten, pierced and rejected at his death.
But he would come back. He would return. He would stand before us all with scarred wrists, feet and side. He would offer us Scarred Hope.

With the One that we follow, there are no Sacred Secrets. He chose not be a Scared Person. He comes even now to offer us Scarred Hope.

“Sleeper awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”
Ephesians 5:14 NRSVA