A Satin Pillow in the Armory (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

My mother slept on a satin pillow.

Mama was one of six children born to a stay-at-home mother and a father who worked for the Illinois Central Railroad. Grandaddy's paycheck didn't go very far, since he wasted a lot of it on drink and "riotous living" (to borrow from the King James).

The short of it: there was little money for the family. In the early years, they lived in one of the hovels that fronted on the train yard. Granddaddy could walk to work, but that's about all you could say in favor of the arrangement.

The arrival of the Great Depression did nothing to improve the situation.

Having grown up with little, my mother became motivated at a very young age to have something of her own, to gather enough resources to run her own life. And that meant having a paying job.

Mom went to work at age 11. She worked through the balance of her school years, and left high school one credit shy of graduation so she could work. That paycheck was important to her. It meant a kind of freedom, an independence, an assurance of not having to return to deprivation.

And that brings us to the satin pillow.

It was part of her regimen. Each working day, my mother rose from her bed to go do "battle" in a world run by men. Having started in a job only filled by women, she worked for years to improve her position in the company. Being savvy, she could see that management was the path upward.

In those days, for women, such jobs were rare.

But she persevered. A part of that was diligence, hard work, good work; but a big part of that, as anyone in management can tell you, is looking the part.

My mother had a standing, weekly appointment at the "Beauty Shop." It was more than just hair in those days. I think we might say "spa," today. In any case, this was where a significant part of her "look" was accomplished. Part of the way she maintained that look between appointments was to sleep on a satin pillow. Somehow, that pillow surface helped her maintain that all important coiffure from one Monday to the next.

My mother was focused. She had a plan. And she used everything at her disposal to pursue her objective . . . even going so far as to rest her head each night on a satin pillow.

But, here's the thing; though she achieved some successes in her career, she never believed she had "arrived," never came to a point where she felt it was time to "rest on her laurels." She continued to pursue her objective of ever improving accomplishment, continued moving in the direction of her goal.

In this week's Lectionary scriptures, Paul's letter to the Philippians sets the same example for us in the pursuit of our relationship with the Lord. We must press on. We must not assume we have "arrived." Sure, our "battle armor" differs from what my mother used to pursue her career. But, like her, we are to bring every bit of ourselves to the process.

We are expected to actively pursue spiritual maturity, pressing on until the day we are finally told, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Fifth Sunday in Lent (March 13, 2016)
First reading
Isaiah 43:16-21
Psalm
Psalm 126
Second reading
Philippians 3:4b-14
Gospel
John 12:1-8
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Each week, we have an opportunity to visit with friends at Lectionary Breakfast. It's an hour that fills us with some of what we need so we can keep "pressing on" our spiritual journey. Join us Friday mornings at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant. We start at 8:00. There's food, God's word, and fellowship well sprinkled with guffaws 😇

Enjoy your week!
Steve

The Coming Bad Years (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

Except for some narrow aisles, every cubic inch of my neighbor's garage was packed. The floor-to-ceiling shelving held such necessities as barrels and boxes of dried foods, bottles of water, vitamins, first aid kits, over-the-counter medicines, camp stoves, cots, and toilet paper.

What brought us to this impromptu garage tour was a question I had asked him just minutes earlier. Glancing over my fence, I had asked, "Hey Dave, why are you plowing up your back yard?" The answer, which in retrospect seemed obvious, was "To plant corn, a grape arbor, and other fruits and vegetables to supplement the dried foods."

You can see, now, how one thing led to another.

Eventually, I got around to asking what this was all about. Dave, a serious guy, a scientist in fact, studied me for a few moments, and then stepped into a corner of the garage. He handed out a well-thumbed paperback copy of Howard Ruff's How to Prosper in the Coming Bad Years. "Here," he said. "You need to read this."

I read it. The book was filled with lots of convincing information supporting Mr. Ruff's contention that we were on the cusp of a global meltdown. Not the end of civilization, exactly, but close enough that we would all want to have our garages filled with survival necessities ... at least until order was restored.

The year was 1982.

As you no doubt have noticed, we're still here. Sure, there were some bad years. Those were followed by some good years. And those were followed by some bad ones. Our local, state, national, and global economies have been up and they've been down, but none of them has been out. Now, I'm not downplaying the very real possibility of economic bad times. I, too, believe in being prepared. I just have a somewhat different definition of "prepared" than my neighbor did.

But he did get something right.

My neighbor was employing the "Joseph Model" of preparedness: store up during the fat years because the lean years are coming. It's the model we use when we add to our savings accounts, when we invest some of our paychecks so we can retire someday, when we lay in a supply of tissues in preparation for allergy season. When you've got it, save some of it. It worked for Joseph and it will work for anyone who can do the same.

Elsewhere in scripture, we learn that for four decades God provided the daily needs of the Israelites, and Manna was the central nutrient. Five days a week, they arose each morning and gathered the coming day's bread, and it had to be eaten that day. On the sixth day, they received a double portion so they could prepare the meals for the Sabbath before sundown.

Then, one day, it came to a full stop.

In this week's Lectionary selection from Joshua, we learn that "The manna ceased on the day they ate the produce of the land, and the Israelites no longer had manna; they ate the crops of the land of Canaan that year" (Joshua 5:12 NRSV). On the very day they no longer had need of it, God's provision of Manna ended. But don't misunderstand this scripture: God's provision did not end, just the provision of Manna. When God brought them into the abundant harvest awaiting them in the Promised Land, there was no longer a need for Manna.

My neighbor was not wrong to stockpile in his attempt to ensure the safety and security of his family. His actions did not indicate a lack of faith. Out of his abundance, he set aside what he thought would be needed. And even though society did not come apart at the seams, Dave's storehouse may have supported his family through a personal crisis. He was being prudent based on the information he had available. Joseph would approve.

God provided the Manna, and God provided the abundance of the Promised Land. We don't always need "miracle food." Usually, we just need to recognize that God is providing and not get too hung up on the source. And if, in abundant times, we set aside some of the abundance to get ready for leaner times ... well, that's in the Bible, too.

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/

Fourth Sunday in Lent (March 6, 2016)
First reading
Joshua 5:9-12
Psalm
Psalm 32
Second reading
2 Corinthians 5:16-21
Gospel
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
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We have abundance every Friday morning at Lectionary Breakfast. Can you carve out an hour to meet with us at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant? We start at 8:00 and spend the next hour enjoying abundant food, abundant fellowship, abundant spiritual food for scripture, and, quite often, an overabundance of laughter.

Enjoy the week!
Steve