Sometime within the last few hours, someone decided to use a small car as a means by which to relocate our power transformer in the back yard of the church. Thankfully, no memorial gardens were harmed during the attempted relocation. The power was out at the church for a few hours so luckily all foodstuffs are still within eating parameters. As for the perpetrator of this ingenious plot, their whereabouts and whoabouts are still unknown. Our cameras will be fitted with backup batteries in the very near future to ensure we can keep them rolling in case of further attempts on immovable objects at the church.
Having said all of this, it strikes me how quickly OG+E responded and replaced the issue. For a few hours, the church was without power; we were in the dark and facing potential cancelations of ministries for the day as well as work. But these people, just three guys, came in fast and hard to provide light to a darkened situation. Now, because of their response, the lights are on, the food is flowing, and we can continue on.
This got me thinking about how the church operates in the world. We live in some dark moments. People everywhere experience struggles and have no light being shed on their plight. People are hungry. People are sad. People are angry. Their world stops while the outside just keeps humming along. They’re powerless. In many ways, these three wise men of OG+E are an image of what the church does in these situations. We’re able to shed light in dark times, give messages of hope. We can empower the powerless just by showing up and doing what it is we said we'd do in our baptismal vows. Sure, sometimes people misinterpret those messages, and we unintentionally do harm, but even that can be fixed quickly by being active and alert—by showing up and offering to make amends to the situation.
The church is powered by a transformer in OKC.
The world is transformed through the power of Christ, and we are the transformer in His name.
Don’t let the darkness take you down roads of despair. If you’re feeling powerless, the church community you belong to will lift you into the light. If you’re feeling hurt, your community will be a balm to those wounds. If your priest misspeaks and you feel displaced, know that he’s a pretty loving guy that always wants the chance to make amends and show you love.
We were without power in the church for a few hours. We are never without power in the name of Jesus Christ. No matter how dark it gets out there, the light is ever burning in our hearts and we are the lamps to shed that light for others. That’s our job and our response to these hurts must be quick and must be vigilant.
Thanks be to God for the power to shed light to those in the darkness; thanks be to this community for being that conduit that can transform lives.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
Harbingers of Grace
Contemporary theologian Rick Goralewicz recently wrote, concerning Palm Sunday:
“We stand in the conflict between expectation and reality as we join with the crowds welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem this Palm Sunday. We participate in the drama of the Passion and Resurrection of Christ with all of our own hopes and expectations. But unlike the crowd and Herod, we are offered a choice to allow God into our lives to transform those hopes and expectations according to God’s will, not our own.”
Reflected in the mirror each day is a person searching for their better self. Each day we awake with plans, each night we fall asleep with recognition that those plans weren’t entirely executed. Our choices that day led to winding pathways, snaking our attention from the straight paths of our intended walk. In short, we just didn’t quite ‘get there’. Alas, tomorrow it is, then.
The days bleed into one another becoming weeks. Weeks turn to months and months to seasons—before we recognize it, our faces have changed in that mirror, lines have been added and our minds have lost a step. It becomes harder to pursue our own plans and some of our dreams die in silent whispers carried away by time. Our choices brought us to this point; our plans suffered because of them.
But this choice mentioned above, this opportunity to allow God to transform us, is what makes this life worth living. The choice to say yes to God allows us to acknowledge that our failures in accomplishing daily tasks are not failures at all; they're simply alternate courses yet unvisited due to a holier destination. This yes smooths out the lines created from worry. It eases the stress of a wandering mind. By allowing God to seep into our thoughts and hearts, we’re allowing ourselves the grace that is unrelentingly seeking to carry new whispers of hope into our souls. Those whispers, once received, turn into shouts of praise and thanksgiving. Our previously laid plans become less important as we die unto ourselves and live into Christ. Then, we become that version of the better self sought in our previous years. All along, we simply needed to allow for God’s will to invade us, connecting to every fiber of our being; to transform us through perfect grace rather than attempting to imperfectly mold ourselves through our own power.
Without Christ we are powerless to transcend our human desires and be transformed into what we were and are meant to be: harbingers of grace. Our plans take a backseat to God’s intentions when we choose to listen. The less important and penultimate goals of our lives seem lesser when we return the embrace offered freely, eagerly awaiting our response that says, “Here I am Lord, send me.”
We must expect less of ourselves in terms of what we are capable of without Christ and lean into what that great yes—the answer to allowing God in—will accomplish. Our reality is only limited by what we choose to make of it. This week, and every other week that follows, start saying yes to God. Yes, I will love my neighbor. Yes, I will worship because I desire you. Yes, I will consult you prior to making plans. Yes, I will look upon my own face with grace and courage, knowing that you work mightily through me. Yes, I will faithfully stumble just as I will be set right by your grace. And yes, I see your marvelous works in action, and I see myself as one of them.
Yes, Lord. Yes.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
He Shall from Time to Time
The television show, “The West Wing”, has some of the best writing I have ever encountered in entertainment. So. Many. Quotables. One, however, sticks out to me today. “He shall from time to time…”
The episode’s titular phrase leads the viewer into the state of the union address, which occurs at the end of the show. In its end, the episode culminates with a conversation between the president and his secretary of agriculture. In case of an attack, the cabinet always leaves one person behind in a safe location so that the government can continue working as intended, through crisis. I’m doing this from memory, so forgive the misquote if there is one…
President: “You know what to do if the worst happens? Gather the generals, go to DEFCON 1. Call the stock market and shut it down. You have a best friend?”
AgSec: “Yessir.”
President: “Is he smarter than you?”
AgSec: “Yessir. He is.”
President: “That’s your chief of staff.”
Meanwhile, in the other room, his COS overhears the convo, and a sweet moment is made.
This weekend is our ‘State of the Union’. Most folks attend meetings for work, regularly, so when their church calls and says, “Hey, we have an idea: Let’s have another MEETING,” they tend to shy away. Suddenly, that cough they have had for the last few days becomes ‘more serious’; the lawn looks like it needs to be cut…with scissors; that garage ain’t gonna clean itself. In other words, excuses bubble up out of nowhere. “Dang, looks like I’m gonna have to miss that…”
But here’s the deal: This meeting is important. We’re going to talk about the last year, honor some folks, discuss finances, discuss ministries, and give the game-plan for the coming twelve months. And, we’re leaving Kay in another room in case y’all mutiny and we need someone left on staff to keep the church going. (sarcasm for those who don’t read it well)
The meeting will be led by me, but I’ll have one of my best friends there—Marc Lau. He’s smarter than me and I trust him. He’s my Chief of Staff, the Senior Warden. The generals take form in Fr. Dion, Trina, and Nicole—we’ll be in good shape with them leading the charge.
You are the army of God. Your persistence in affecting change around you is evident by virtue of your love for one another. You laugh together, cry together, pray together, and live life as more than ‘church friends’. You are actually close to at least one other person in this community. This meeting is important, not because of the ‘business’ portion (which is still necessary) but because we all need to gather so that we see the vitality surging around us in this place.
We often desire to see evidence of the call God places on us; we ask God to show us that we’re doing the right things and that in us He is well-pleased. Well, if you come to the meeting after church, one thing will come to light for certain: That wish will be answered. God may not always let us know how deeply pleased and loved we are through seeing…but when we’re all together? We will see God’s love manifest in our community. He doesn’t always show us…
But He shall from time to time.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
A New Hope
I’ve heard it said, “What you do on the first day of the year will become your yearly practice.” Now, I don’t know if that’s entirely accurate (or even moderately so) but I do like the premise. Entering a new year can bring hope, if one is so inclined to seek it. However, another circle around the sun has the potential to be just that: another ol’ year. The attitude with which we lean into the turning of the calendar is what matters; perhaps this is what that sage advice up top meant…
Stepping from one day to another is fluid, often part of a schedule that seems to bleed one moment into the next. One day turns into a week, a week into a month, and then before we know it, we’re back on the first day of the year. But what has changed? Did we take the time to slow down and evaluate ourselves and our actions on a daily basis? On a weekly one? Did we take a moment to affect minor changes or did the race begin and we just started running?
I’ll be honest, a new year doesn’t mean much to me in terms of the mystical ‘it’s a blank slate’ mentality. It can be boiled down to remembering which year to fill in on web forms and doctor’s office visits. Yet, this is the very issue I am attempting to address. It should be more, at least in my opinion. A new year presents opportunity for change to occur with intentionality. Just like most habits tend to do better when one begins on a Monday rather than a Thursday (that’s actually true), most change on a macro level would seem fitting for January first, rather than July third.
What attitudes do you hope to embrace this year? Do you hold hopes of spiritual growth? Of discipleship? What changes are coming? A new child, a new job, retirement? How will you face them and with what attitude will you conduct yourself? I ask myself these questions and find that I don’t know—at least, I don’t know what will occur. I do know this, however: Whatever comes, it is not in my power to keep those moments from occurring. The control I have manifests itself in the form of how I respond.
If we can adopt a sense of hopefulness, if we can embrace our faith and nurture our spiritual lives, if we can be steeped in the word…then we will be able to approach this new chapter with our heads, hearts, and souls in check. The blending of days will still happen, but a sense of purpose and overall health will bloom within us. Then, and only then, will we be able to shift our perceptions from ones of negativity and jaded views, to ones of vitality in times of joy and faithful endurance in times of pain.
We can begin these changes on the first day of the week, month or year. But we must begin, so that in the Last day, we are prepared to meet God in faith, hope and love for that eternal chapter that never ends.
Happy New Year
Fr. Sean+
The Great Unknowing
December 19th, 2023
Scripture
32‘From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. 33 So also, when you see all these things, you know that he is near, at the very gates. 34 Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. 35 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
36 ‘But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 37 For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 38 For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, 39 and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. 40 Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. 41 Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. 42 Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. 43 But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 44 Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.
--Matthew 24:32-44
Reflection
There’s so much we don’t know about God. Yet, given enough time in church settings, Christians develop a sense of God ownership. What begins as curious exploration into the relationship between the person and God, seems to phase into an absolute truth regarding God. Lines are drawn. Doctrines are created. Denominations rise. Divisions multiply. The body of Christ slowly dismembers itself, detaching and moving further away from each of its parts in the name of wholesome wholeness. It is out of our desire to be right, that the actual knowledge we hold—the axiom of ‘God is love’—is lost in a maelstrom of we-versus-them theology.
Recently, a woman told me about her experience in prison. More specifically, the times in which baptisms were offered to the populace. Due to time constraints and security, many of these baptisms occurred in large numbers; multiple ministers from varying denominations would take turns baptizing inmates who identified with their denominational structures. As each minister went to the podium, and then to the baptismal font, she remembered feeling a sense of confusion and hurt. Small statements were made by each minister, subtly dismissing their previous counterpart’s theology through thinly veiled statements or corrections. In all of this, she felt lost. When she was released from prison, she didn’t want to attend church. She said, “Why would I go to a place that was so worried about what the other people were doing that they might forget about me?”
I didn’t know what to say…
Our constant pledge to spread the good news of Christ by word and example can be sullied by our inability to articulate what and who we are in Christ. Rather, we utilize the practice of proclaiming what and who we aren’t, all too often. It is in this mode that none of us can be ready to receive the arrival of Christ, being too preoccupied with our constrained perceptions of him. If we would let our sense of knowing be scaled back, just a bit, perhaps an anticipatory and curious unknowing could reassert itself, allowing us the grace to be accepted when Christ comes. Perhaps the body of Christ can be drawn back toward itself with a small amount of humility in that same unknowing.
Being ready doesn’t mean being right; it means remaining open to the myriad mysteries that have been revealed to us by the resurrected Christ and open to the possibilities of those which have yet to be revealed by his coming again. My hope during this and every Advent, is to embrace the knowledge and love of God that I feel, while also waiting in joyful anticipation for the Christ who comes again to reveal the remaining truth that passes all understanding.
The Rev. Sean A. Ekberg, Rector
Episcopal Church of the Resurrection, OKC
Giving of Thanks
Next week, we’ll gather together for Thanksgiving. In our homes or at the church, we will share a meal together in remembrance of people coming together to share ideals and ways in which to flourish amid diversity. The pluralistic nature of our first encounters in this world, as well as the ‘new world’ back then, continue to inform us concerning the differences we possess while attempting to live together in community.
As a microcosm of the wider world, the church exhibits similar attributes of the wider pluralistic society. Yet, our differences can be more easily lived through due to our shared belief in the Holy Trinity. Jesus Christ is the foundation upon which our community is built, thus creating a shared sense of belonging not readily found in the wider world. In short: We are special, set apart, and encouraged to spread good news and THE Good News to the rest of the world.
This world doesn’t receive good news readily, nor does it allow for a pervasive exchange of thanks, given the daily chaos surrounding us. Yet, that’s where we can be of service. As we experience Thanksgiving next week, I hope we will be reminded that every day is given to us in thanksgiving to God. Our thanks should be directed in eternal gratitude toward Christ for his ultimate sacrifice. The meal we share together next week mimics that which we take part in every Sunday. We will gather together. We will say prayers. We will fellowship with each other. We will share news of our lives and love with those to whom we are kin. The difference between that meal and the one shared each Sunday is simple: One occurs once a year and is in temporal thanks, the other is every week and in remembrance of passionate sacrifice and eternal love.
Be thankful, my friends. Be thankful for your loved ones, passed, past, and present. Be thankful for your church community, and for those who have yet to join us. And ultimately, be reminded that we live in a perpetual moment of thanksgiving which began at the table of the Last Supper, witnessed the loving sacrifice on the cross, and culminated in the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. I give thanks to God for that, for you, and for this place we now call home. Thanks be to you, and thanks be to God.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
How Do We Compete?
This past Sunday, someone asked a question that I imagine resides rent-free in most of our heads. “How can we compete with the mega-churches; how can we convince people to come here?”
When I was first approached by Resurrection in 2017, it was via phone-call. Four people from the church search committee were on one end of the speaker, and Nic and I were on the other. The greeting was warm and the questions weren’t difficult at first, but then someone posed the question above: “What will you do to compete with the bigger churches and how can we get our kids to want to come here rather than there?” After a brief pause, I answered with one word: “Nothing.” I then went on to explain that competing with churches isn’t the business we’re in—sure, we need people to sustain the annual budget of ___(what is now $340,000, I have no clue what it was then) but that seeking other church members wasn’t the answer. We can’t compete with other churches because everyone has different desires for worship; if this wasn’t the case, there would never have been a reformation of the Church and we’d all still be Catholic.
I honestly thought they hung up on me. That’s how long the pause was. But then they moved on to the next question. To this day, I would pay money to see their faces in that moment; I imagine someone mouthed something along the lines of “Is this dude crazy?”
Well, a few years later, we all know that I’m a little wacky. Yet, on Sunday, I restated that answer. I know how much we want to grow—no one feels that desire more deeply than I do. I yearn for people to join this church in droves; I long for the resurrection of Resurrection. In many ways, that has started to happen. We have done quite a bit together and the results have been noticeable. But there’s still more to do. We’re in a pivotal moment of our church today, just as we were back then. The difference? We’ve stepped up a few levels.
Our needs today aren’t the same as they were yesterday. We have a critical mass of folks willing to engage in ministries, doing the work of discipleship, and creating a sense of vitality that is almost palpable. And we are still not competing. Instead, we’re thriving due to providing a safe space within which people can grow in faith and understanding; inquisitive theology is bred here, allowing folks to ask questions without fear of reprisal or judgment.
So. What now?
Now, we keep moving forward and continue to do the things that are unique and authentic to us. We keep conducting ourselves as the beloved community; we keep encouraging our kids during worship and on Wednesday nights. We keep feeding the hungry, clothing the cold, friending the lonely, tending to the sick, and shielding the joyous. And, we talk about this place to people we encounter. That’s the real secret to growth: It takes you, all of you, talking to your friends—and strangers sometimes (Sorry introverts)—about this community to which you belong. Of all the catchy and gimmicky things we could attempt, authentic encounters with our neighbors are the most vital to the ever-expanding group of souls here at Resurrection. And if you’re reading this and belong to another church? It’s how you do it there, too. Our job as Christians isn’t to promote individual churches for the sake of their growth; it’s to promote Jesus Christ for the sake of the Kingdom.
Do you want to grow?
Do you want to see this place thrive?
Do you want to share the beauty of the Episcopal liturgy?
Do you want to share the Christian faith?
Then let’s keep conversing with people, inviting people, and connecting during real moments. That’s now how we compete, it’s how we thrive. And, more importantly, it’s the work Jesus Christ calls us to do, anyway.
Let’s go, Resurrection. Our work is far from done.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
Blessed are Those....
On this All Saints’ Day, the Beatitudes from Matthew hit differently. We are told of the many ‘blessed’ people with their differing gifts, and that telling is to direct us toward honoring those persons. In some cases, that direction is to help us to become people of such blessing. So what does it mean to be ‘blessed’? If I get a new job that pays more, am I blessed? If that’s the case, then does that mean my neighbor that just lost her job is not blessed? Why does God bless me and not her?
I think you can see the issue here.
The term ‘blessed’ has been twisted to mean something different these days. In my not-so-humble (yeah, I know, blessed are the meek) opinion, we overuse and underemphasize the term. It doesn’t hold the weight that Christ intended, the weight of glory that Lewis talks about; the weight of being faithful in the midst of some of the worst conditions known to humankind.
Blessed are the Peacemakers? Tell that to a hungry and terrified child in Gaza right now. See how that goes. Blessed are those who mourn? Again, children are losing parents and friends every day. Do they feel blessed? I highly doubt they feel blessed in the same vein that the western world wastes that word.
Being blessed isn’t something that occurs because of a perceived ‘good’ happening. I’m not ‘blessed’ to be able to worship freely—I’m a product of my birth, born in a country where it’s allowed. I’m not ‘blessed’ to be unafraid to leave my home; I’m lucky to live in the part of the world where war isn’t on my doorstep. I’m not ‘blessed’ to be a middle-class heterosexual man; that’s just who I am and a product of hard-work mixed with a little luck along the way.
Blessing is something that occurs by virtue of Jesus Christ. We’re blessed to be saved by grace. We’re blessed to be the inheritors of that same grace which we are tasked to pass to others. We’re blessed to have the promise of eternal life. Also, we’re blessed when we’re at our lowest and still have faith to sustain us. So many people have taken their own lives due to despondency, to a total loss of hope and faith—or even losing a battle of the broken mind. I’m not blessed to be mentally balanced (a state of being which I constantly question). I’m blessed when I recognize God even through the madness of this world, and I continue to seek that blessing.
I seek the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit to sustain me in the lowest of moments and in the heights of despair. I look to the cross as a reminder that someone suffered so that I could live, no matter what the circumstance. I’ve lived in a car for a short time; I’ve slept on friends’ couches; I’ve gone hungry, I’ve worn the same clothing for days on end. Conversely, I drive a nice truck, live in a nice home, have a beautiful spouse, and live a comfortable life. Yet, none of those are blessings. The true blessing comes in gratitude for the life given to me by Christ—the new life in hope of the Resurrection of that same Jesus.
On this All Saints’ Day, I will remember those that came before me. I’ll remember the named saints and the ones who were saints to me. I’ll remember my dad, an imperfect and broken man who loved me and my mother to the best of his ability. I’ll remember Grant Hileman, one of the brightest lights in my life that was extinguished because he couldn’t take the pain anymore. I’ll remember his smile, and look at his photo, knowing that part of him lives on in me. I’ll remember the work that generations of clergy and lay people did before I ever got here and try my best to add to it, leaving this world better than I found it.
And then I’ll be blessed. I’ll be blessed because I’ll look to the examples of the meek, the poor, the suffering, the afflicted, the joyous, and those who fight real and imagined demons every single day. And I will shine in that blessing, because I’m still here to do so. Then one day, I will be a saint, and join that great cloud of witnesses of Jesus Christ.
I hope you will, too, with gratitude and to the glory of God.
Be blessed,
Fr. Sean+
Courage
It is difficult to be courageous amid the chaos of this world. People on one side will scream at you for believing one thing, while people on the other will cancel you for another. No matter what we do, it seems like there is no ‘right’ answer, no ‘correct’ way in which to simply be. I’ll admit, I’m terrified every day that something I’ve done in my past will come back to haunt me in some way that I never expected. Of course, then the answer from others is, “Well, what do you have to hide?”
Really? Have you never sinned?
My point is this: None of us have a clean slate, no not one. The newest pandemic of self-righteousness is squeezing the life out of us, bit by bit. Courage has taken a side-seat to self-preservation, in avoidance of anyone who might try to tear us down for something we believe. We’re being hunted…and the worst part about it is this:
We’re also the hunters.
How can we be better? I am tired, y’all. I am tired of the bickering, the nastiness, and the cyclical conversations. Part of the human condition is that we will inadvertently disagree quite often; but not everything needs to be a knife fight. If we say that we love Jesus Christ on Sunday morning and then crucify our neighbor on Friday afternoon, then how exactly are we living into the Word? How are we leaning into the way, the truth, and the life of Jesus Christ? That’s not courage, it’s the opposite. It’s cowardice. It is fear of the ‘other’, fear of being rejected, and fear of being changed by someone else’s point of view. So, how can we turn fear into courage?
It might be a tired question, but it’s one that I think we have to keep answering until we can come up with a solution. I never want to feel like I can’t speak my mind, yet I find myself weighing whether or not the follow-up is worth speaking my personal truth. What if, instead, I was able to say things without the rest of the world going crazy? What if you could do the same? What if, and I know this is mental, we could allow people their own agency to think freely, regardless of the differences between us? What if we had courage in a different way: Courage to be firm in our belief while still living in holy tension with those around us?
What a world that would be. A world like that would allow each of us to hold differing views and still be a connected people. All it would take is a little bit of courage to be firm in our individual beliefs without having to belittle someone else for theirs. Hunting season would close, and life would be abundant. That’s a world I would love to live in, and something for which I yearn. I will continue to dream of that place, and at least attempt to make small changes every day to ensure I’m doing my part. It will take courage, but in the end, everything worth doing always does. Take heart and have courage, beloved. We all want to love and be loved, our ways of doing so are different, sometimes. Put down the knives. Pick up the mantle. And go forth into the world, rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit, knowing that that same Spirit created each face we meet along the way.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
How do I pray? Why?
How we pray often defines our belief. The phrase Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi (law of prayer is law of belief) plays a pivotal role in our Anglican theology. We pray with all our senses. We pray throughout all times of the day. We pray in different seasons of the year. See a common thread? If we’re doing all that is offered to us through the Book of Common Prayer, if our clergy are helping us understand the importance of prayer, and if we stop to take time for prayer? Well, life becomes more manageable.
So why does it matter how we pray? I mean, we can just pray once a day, right? Surely God is powerful enough to give us whatever we want in return for a few minutes of prayer each day. Why in the world would we need to communicate with God more than that…God’s a busy God.
In short: No, not right.
Imagine this: You are deeply in love with someone. This person holds your heart in inexplicable ways, they have become so integral to who you are that losing them would break you in many ways. Did that love grow from one conversation a week? Did you fall in love with your person because you spent a few minutes a day talking to them? In your memories, are they a fraction of what constitutes your life’s meaning? I can tell you right now that I continue to fall deeply in love with Nicole on the daily. You know why? Because we talk. We talk about inane things, serious things, and everything in between.
And when we aren’t together, sometimes we just call and leave the line quiet as each of us does our own thing.
This allows us to grow together, not apart; to face daily life and know that we have each other. So, what if you’re single? Widowed? I imagine you have friends or family with whom you share a special relationship. Not the same, yet not diminished. Not greater than or less than, just different. The relationship is still vital to who you are and serves as a major part of your life.
Now, apply that to God. Do you talk to God, daily? Do you share your frustrations, fears, joys, dreams, and inane goings-on with God? Do you sometimes just sit in companionable silence, not asking for anything, with God? Do you make time to grow into deeper relationship, or is the five minutes enough?
Once I asked myself these questions, the answer was clear: I need—I desire—to be in deeper conversation with God. I want to wake with my first words being directed toward God and I want to fall asleep with my last words being in praise and love of God’s name. How can I do that? The answer: By being faithful in my prayer life; not just when things are bad or good, but in the ‘normal’ times, too. Don’t you agree? Isn’t God the reason why we’re here, the gathering force of grace that compels us to community and action?
That’s how we can approach it. We can stand in awe or whisper through tears on our knees; we can see the beauty of nature around us; we can hear the laughter of children in our midst; we can taste the communion…
And through those moments of prayer, we can reach out and touch the face of God.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+