Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century

Tag: Jesus

  • The Already-But-Not-Yet…

    The Already-But-Not-Yet…

    As we light the first Advent candle, the candle of hope, we do so with the prophetic words of Jeremiah ringing in our ears, “‘The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will fulfill the good promise I made to the people…” (Jeremiah 33:14)

    These words were first spoken to those living in the aftermath of war; standing in the ashes and rubble of all they held dear.  Jeremiah reminded them of God’s promise to send exactly what they longed for, one who would restore justice and bring safety.  There was little proof that this “Righteous Savor” would arrive within their life time, in fact it took another 500 years before the birth of Jesus.  In the meantime these people had to get up every day and begin to slowly bring about life amid the ashes. 

    Author, professor, and modern day theologian, Kate Bowler writes that we, like those who first heard these words of Jeremiah, find ourselves living in the “already-but-not-yet.”  She is known by many as a modern day Jeremiah, one who has fought stage four colon cancer into remission and who discovered hope through a curtain of tears while standing in the ashes of life.  She knows what it takes to get up each day and bring about life in the midst of a terminal diagnosis, living through horrible cancer treatments that fell profoundly short of fulfillment, and yet, she brings good news from this land of loss and desperation; there is reason for hope.

    Bowler writes, there is a new hope, a new truth.  She writes that the season of Advent invites us to bear witness to the hope of God’s promise being fulfilled while also bearing witness to our not so perfect lives,  “God has made us for truth-telling, to have eyes that glimpse through tears at the already-and-not-yet that we live in. And at the same time, these same eyes are trained on Jesus, who embodies the compassion, restoration, and justice we long for.” *

    She teaches that the only way to true life sustaining hope is by being honest with ourselves; to open ourselves to lament all that is not perfect in our lives.  Truth is, the story of God’s work in the world consists both of hope and despair, not hope in the absence of despair, but hope in the face of despair and, often, through despair. 

    Living between the already-but-not-yet means we need to make space to lament. Lament is a biblical practice that invites us to express our sorrow, pain, or confusion. It is the act of grieving with God. By practicing this honest form of prayer we are creating a space for hope to take root despite all that isn’t perfect.*

    May your Advent journey begin with an honest and truly sustainable hope,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    (Kate Bowler, The Weary World Rejoices, Advent Study.  2024; pgs. 6-7)

    Photo by Gantas Vaiciulenas/Pexels

  • When Healing Doesn’t Come

    When Healing Doesn’t Come

    One of my favorite pastimes as a child was to go roller skating around the neighborhood.  My skates were two metal frames with four metal wheels that would buckle onto the soul of my running shoes. They did not have a rubber stop so when it came time to stop, I would throw myself down on the grass or against a tree.  Needless to say, I spent most of my summers with bandaged knees!  Eventually the wounds would scab over and before I knew it my knees were back to normal.  I took for granted that healing would always come.

    A couple of months ago I had a somewhat simple procedure performed on one of my knees.  The surgeon had said that within 6 to 8 weeks I would be back to normal.  Well, six weeks has come and gone and still my knee isn’t functioning like it should.  A few unexpected complications have delayed the healing. In my frustration I called out to God, demanding strength, patience and a pain free day.  

    In the Gospel of Mark there is a story of Jesus healing Samuel’s ill Mother-in-law followed by Jesus healing all kinds of people (Mark 1:29-34).  The story seems to imply that so long as you reach out to Jesus in faith, your healing will come.  The opposite truth being, if you do not receive healing, it must be a sign of some weakness in your faith.

    But we know that eventually healing didn’t come to Samuel’s Mother-in-law.  The same is true of all those Jesus healed; a day arrived when each and every one of them died.  Eventually, healing does not come.

    What do we do when the healing doesn’t come?  We all know those moments when our pain seems to increase and resilience seems impossible.  What do we do when all seems to fail?

    We do exactly what Jesus did. 

    In the same passage in the Gospel of Mark, after healing hundreds of people, Jesus went off alone to pray (Mark 1:35).  He knew that when we feel depleted, there is one who is always ready to listen, to offer peace and to make whole that which seems broken.  We are reminded to “Draw near to God and God will draw near to you.” (James 4:8 NKJV)

    May we always believe in God’s eternal plan, trusting in the one who sees beyond any of our limited horizons. 

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Lukas Rychvalsky/Pexels

  • Lenting

    Lenting

    A clergyman, a doctor and a time-management guru were playing golf together one day. Soon they got stuck behind a particularly slow group ahead of them. The time-management guy said, ‘What’s with these people? We’ve been waiting on the tee for more than 30 minutes and they’re still not on the next green!”

    The doctor agreed, “They’re hopeless. I’ve never seen such rambling around a golf course.”

    The clergyman spotted the approaching greenskeeper and asked him what was going on. “What’s happening with that group ahead of us? They’re surely too slow and useless to be playing, aren’t they?”

    The greenskeeper replied, “Oh, yes, that’s a group of blind fire-fighters. They lost their sight saving our clubhouse from a fire last year, so we always let them play for free anytime.”

    The three golfers fell silent for a moment. Then the clergyman said, “Oh dear, that’s so sad. I shall say some special prayers for them tonight.”

    The doctor added, rather meekly, “That’s a good thought. I’ll get in touch with an ophthalmic surgeon friend of mine to see if there’s anything that can be done for them.”

    After pondering the situation for a few seconds, the time-management expert turned to the greenskeeper and asked, “Why can’t they play at night?”

    This joke reminds me of the Lenten Season.  Or, to be more specific, it reminds me of those who impatiently rush through the 40 days of Lent missing out on the gifts of the season. An example of this is the time-management expert who missed out entirely on the beauty of the moment.

    The Season of Lent begins on Wednesday February 22nd marking the 40 days and nights that Jesus spent in the desert fighting off temptation.  He was hungry and most likely exhausted when he came toe to toe with the biggest temptations life offers; gluttony, ego, materialism, and willfulness against God.  Through knowledge of scripture, divine wisdom and depth of faith he not only triumphs but God sends angels to tend to him.

    The gifts of Lent are self-reflection, silent correction and a redirection of our pathways.  It is an opportunity to decide what we keep from our past, what we appreciate in our present life and what we look forward to in the new beginnings promised by God.  As Rev. Dr. N.T. Wright writes, “Lent is a time for discipline, for confession, for honesty, not because God is mean or fault- finding or finger-pointing but because he wants us to know the joy of being cleaned out, ready for all the good things he now has in store.”

    May we all take time during this most sacred season to prepare ourselves for the good things God has in store.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Alvaro La Rosa/Pexels 

  • A Pursuing Love

    A Pursuing Love

    Photo by Emmanuel Phaeton/Unsplash “Book of Love”

    Richard Francis Xavier Manning (April 27, 1934 – April 12, 2013), known as Brennan Manning, was a prolific American author, defrocked Priest and public speaker who summed up the Advent journey colourfully when he wrote, “You could more easily catch a hurricane in a shrimp net that you can understand the wild, relentless, passionate, uncompromising, pursuing love of God made present in the manger.”

    The last sign post before arriving to the destination of the Advent Journey is the last blue candle, the candle of love.  We pass through the doors of love as we draw ever closer to God among us, in the form of a wee baby born in a feeding trough.

    This love surrounds us from birth to the life beyond this life; a love so perfect we know not life without it and yet, so often fail to recognize its presence. As it is written, “In this life we have three great lasting qualities-faith, hope and love. But the greatest of them is love.”(1 Cor 13:13)  

    This last week of Advent I offer a poem by Margaret Matthews to accompany you on the journey:    

  • Saucer Moments!

    Saucer Moments!

    Photo by solod_sha/Pexels

    He was sitting in the dirt, covered in his burlap cloak with his hand out stretched hoping someone would drop in a coin, a piece of bread or in the very least acknowledge his presence. Then he heard the name being spoken. The Healing Rabbi was finally walking past and without hesitation he yelled, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

    “Oh, you just quiet down.  Jesus doesn’t want to hear from the likes of you!” They hissed at him.  Ignoring their taunts, Bartimaeus shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

    All the footsteps stopped, silence.  One singular voice spoke, “Call him.”

    A chorus rang out, “On your feet! He’s calling you.” 

    Throwing his cloak aside, Bartimaeus jumped to his feet and reached out.

    “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked.

    “Rabbi, I want to see.”

     “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately Bartimaeus could see.

    It is written that once receiving his sight Bartimaeus “followed Jesus along the road.” But I imagine he didn’t follow quietly and sedately but instead twirled, danced, and sang all the way to Jerusalem.   

    What joy and gratitude must have filled his soul!  The sheer exhilaration and celebration! 

    Have you ever experienced this kind of joy?  Perhaps at a new baby’s birth?  When you were told the cancer was gone?  Holding the winning ticket? Or, that moment you looked up at a tree ablaze in autumn finery?

    These are saucer moments; moments when we drink from our saucer because our cup runneth over.    

    That is what I imagine Bartimaeus sang as he danced behind Jesus, he sang about drinking from his saucer because his cup runneth over!

    May we all have countless saucer moments this coming week and may these moments open our eyes with such vision we see clearly the presence of the divine in our midst.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel  

  • Thou Art With Me

    Thou Art With Me

    Painting by Canadian artist, Cecil Henry Greenhow ( January 27, 1935 – July 7, 2017)

    There is a painting that hangs in our upstairs hallway; it is oil on canvas in shades of blue depicting a city street on a blustery winter evening.  Among the snow fall and along the snow packed street two figures walk, their backs to us, one taller than the other, both huddled against the seemingly cold north wind.   

    This painting reminds me of the 23rd psalm. 

    The 23rd Psalm is a psalm for those times when life takes twists and turns leading us through the shadows of darkness.  There is no suggestion that we can take a detour around the dark valley; it is a path we all must travel.  But there is a promise that we will never travel the darkness alone. As Rev. Dr. Limburg writes, “Like a good shepherd who cares for the sheep, like a loving parent who holds the hand of a child, the Lord promises to be with us on that way through the darkness.” 

    The tall figure in the painting reminds me of God’s presence walking beside us all the way; even through the blustery storms of life.  As Jesus tells us in Matthew 28:20 “Surely I am with you always.”

    The same everlasting God who cares for us today will take care of us tomorrow and every day.  As the 23rd Psalm teaches, either God will shield us from suffering or God will give us the strength to bear whatever befalls.  As Saint Francis De Sales writes, “Be at peace, then, and set aside all anxious thoughts and worries.”

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel