No Cats Were Harmed in the Making... (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

"The task is, not so much to see what no one has yet seen; but to think what nobody has yet thought, about that which everybody sees." —Erwin Schrödinger

Here's what you need to know. There is a sealed box. Inside is (a) a cat, (b) a vial of poison, and (c) a mechanism to spill the poison. The mechanism will start only if a certain event occurs, and that event is unpredictable. Finally, if the mechanism spills the poison, the cat will die.

If you paid attention in science class (or are a fan of "The Big Bang Theory"), you’ve likely heard of Schrödinger's Cat. This is the famous thought experiment set up by physicist Erwin Schrödinger. And it is purely theoretical ... this was never a real experiment, just a mental exercise. So, no cats were harmed in the making of this reflection.

The purpose of the experiment was to illustrate a point: Until we open the box —and see with our own eyes— we cannot know whether the cat is alive or dead.

From a physics standpoint, nothing has actually occurred ... yet. The cat is constantly either alive or dead until we open the box and find out for certain ... a continuous state of possibility.

Have I lost you? Hang on. We're done with the science-y stuff. What it means, in every day terms, is this: we cannot know what we cannot know.

Anything is possible.

There are many treasures to be mined from the story of Joseph —the limits of prophecy, fractured families, the power of forgiveness, even agronomics— but, for me, it's this "not knowing" that keeps me coming back to Joseph.

That's because, in this particular sense, Joseph is just like us.

Despite the cryptic dreams he received as a young man, he could never have known he would become "a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt."

When it comes to what to do and say when things go wrong, Joseph is a great model for us. At each challenge point, Joseph, not knowing the future, could have chosen either way. Just like us. We know that each time he chose to behave in a way that was pleasing to God. He did this even though the Law had yet to be handed down from God: there were no Ten Commandments.

Anyone can know right from wrong.

We, like Joseph, remain in a continuous state of possibility. That only changes when we "open the box," so to speak. Similar to Schrödinger's Cat, until we choose a course of action —in that nanosecond before our thoughts settle into our choice— we can go either way. And like Joseph, none of us can actually know our future.

But God can.

God sees all our possibilities. God can see into the "box," if you will. And, if we will allow it —if we can trust God as Joseph did— God will guide us into the best path ... and even to undreamed of achievements.

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A slightly different version of this reflection appeared in August 2014 as Schrödinger's Cat.
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany (February 24, 2019)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=113

Genesis 45:3-11, 15
Psalm 37:1-11, 39-40
1 Corinthians 15:35-38, 42-50
Luke 6:27-38
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DaySpring’s Friday morning Lectionary Breakfast is a great way to start the weekend. Join us at 8:00 at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant for food, fellowship, scripture, and hijinks (is that still a word?).

See you there,
Steve

White Gold & the Salt Flats of Grand Turk (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

I was in for a surprise.

A while back, I was privileged to spend a day touring the Caribbean island of Grand Turk. It wasn’t your typical tourist experience. Grand Turk is, even by island standards, tiny; less than seven square miles. And, like many islands, it has a desert climate: usable water doesn’t come from the ocean; it comes from the sky. I didn’t expect there would be much to see on such a small, dry piece of land.

I was wrong.

There were quite a few surprises, that day. First, no matter where we went, the ocean was never out of our sight. At some points, I could see ocean in all directions. I’ve never experienced that while on land; only when aboard a ship.

Also everywhere: donkeys. By law, they can wander wherever they please. And that’s the reason each home has a short wall around the property. We drove by one house and saw what happens when someone fails to close the gate: a yard full of donkeys nibbling the flowers and “mowing” the lawn!

And then, we discovered the White Gold.

From the 1660’s, the economic mainstay of the Turks, particularly Grand Turk and Salt Cay, was the production of what came to be called “White Gold.”

Or, as we say it ... salt.

Originally, Bermudans sailed to Grand Turk and used the natural action of the ocean to produce this commodity. The incoming tide would cover low lying flats with water. Then, when the tide went out, the sun dried what was left into a super-salty brine. This was raked (by hand!) and moved by donkey cart to a higher ground for further drying.

During the 18th and 19th centuries, this location was the greatest producer of salt in the Americas.

Today, though, all of that is done. Industrialization and modernization have changed the salt industry, irrevocably. Oh, you could still produce salt the natural way. But the economies of scale have eliminated it as an economic engine for the Turks and Caicos.

What’s left —the remnants of those old processes— are flat, salt-saturated, patches ... dead land where nothing grows. Only those that are daily replenished by ocean water have any real plant growth. The inland spots just don’t have the nutrients to sustain edible plants.

And that brings me to this week’s Jeremiah passage. He urges his readers to place their trust in God so they can be like “a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit.”

He contrasts this lovely situation with what befalls those who place their trust in anyone or anything other than God, declaring, “They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land.”

Now that I’ve seen some salt land with my own eyes, I can assure you, choosing to be the tree by the stream is a much better option ... even in an island paradise.

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PHOTO OF SALT CAY: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/white-gold-how-salt-made-and-unmade-the-turks-and-caicos-islands-161576195/

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany (February 17, 2019)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=112

Jeremiah 17:5-10
Psalm 1
1 Corinthians 15:12-20
Luke 6:17-26
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Friday mornings are a high point! Join us for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast at 8:00. We still meet at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant. Food, fellowship, scripture, prayer, and some of the funniest stuff you’ve ever heard. It really is an hour like no other.

Blessings,
Steve

A SPEAKER FOR THE (almost) DEAD - a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

It was painful for everyone.

The truth can be that way. It is something Andrew (“Ender”) Wiggin, having dealt with some very harsh truths about his own actions, came to know in the most personal way. And that truth-struggle led to his chosen profession: Speaker for the Dead.

In the novel, “Speaker for the Dead,” Ender is no longer the little boy and military genius who was the central figure of “Ender’s Game.” He is now an adult, and he travels around as a sort of professional eulogizer. He is hired to investigate the life of a deceased person; to try to understand them before speaking about them.

Speaking at a funeral or memorial service can be quite challenging. Preachers and Pastors usually officiate, but it’s often a friend or family member who gives the eulogy; someone who actually knew the deceased. We expect that person to share wonderful, sometimes humorous, stories; to celebrate the life and accomplishments of the deceased.

A Speaker for the Dead, though, is different from what we would be comfortable with. A Speaker for the Dead doesn’t just praise the deceased. They leave out nothing. Using honest —even blunt— terms, the Speaker for the Dead speaks to all parts of a person’s life: the good, the bad, and, yes, the ugly.

Telling the whole truth? Well, parts could be good, but other parts would be uncomfortable. And, yes, some would definitely be painful.

If this is beginning to sound a bit like an Old Testament Prophet to you, give yourself a gold star. Those folks had to speak the truth —often bluntly— about the people of Israel, its community leaders, and its spiritual leaders. Sometimes there was good and sometimes there was bad ... and sometimes there was ugly.

This week’s selection from Isaiah 6 contains some harsh truths that God directed Isaiah to pass on to the people of Israel. The message? God is about to end them as a nation; to send a conqueror that will kill many of them, to exile the few survivors to a foreign land, and to make the very soil barren.

It’s harsh. But in God’s view, the people of Israel have earned this (see Chapter 5) because they mistreated those who were in need; denied justice to the powerless, exploited the lowly.

Isaiah was a Speaker for the almost Dead.

Unlike a modern eulogy, he spoke the whole truth to them; something they needed to hear. But because he spoke of future events —ahead of the nation’s demise— there was still time for people to repent.

Praise God, we no longer live under the strictures of the Law of Moses. But, even though we believers can depend on God’s assurance that “mercy triumphs justice,” don’t think for a minute we can mistreat our poor and powerless without negative result.

Our actions influence what is said about us. Because we know these things, we get some “say” in what words are spoken. Let’s give them something to talk about.

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PHOTO: (How to Give A Jewish Eulogy) https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/eulogy-or-hesped/

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany (February 10, 2019)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=111

Isaiah 6:1-8, (9-13)
Psalm 138
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
Luke 5:1-11
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Can you be with us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast? We meet at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant starting at 8:00. It’s an hour of Bible, discussion, breakfast, prayer, and laughter. There’s nothing quite like it.

Blessings,
Steve

No One Knows You Quite Like the Folks Back Home (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

It’s somewhere in a box marked "memorabilia."

I first acquired the little book in the sixth grade, but it saw little use until friends got hold of it in the ninth. It had been meant for photos, but it quickly became a place to collect the comments and signatures of my friends. I came across it a few years ago. As I perused those pages —some sweet innocence and some more sophisticated— memories flooded back to me. Here were the uniformly pleasant, even complimentary, things my friends wrote.

Until I came to the very last page.

There, penned in the firm hand of my favorite uncle was this: "Don't let this stuff go to your head! I changed your cotton-picking diapers! Uncle Ken."

Ahem.

No one knows you quite like the folks back home.

They have seen you interact with your parents at various stages in your life, watched you play with the neighborhood kids, observed each awkward stage of your transit from childhood to adult. They know your father, your mother, your grandparents. And now, whatever your present circumstance —you're grown, have a job, are a parent, live somewhere else— they still see you as the person (child) they once knew.

And, as I am sure we all know, that can lead to problems.

We see this kind of thing in Luke 4:14-30, a story that was split between last week’s Lectionary and this week’s. It's the tale of when Jesus meets the hometown folk. They just cannot see him for who he is. To them, he is the brother of siblings who still live there. Many of them, no doubt, observed his passage from babyhood to teen and beyond. There was simply nowhere in their minds for the adult Jesus. Before them was this, this ... man ... who presumed to read scripture in His hometown synagogue, and then to have the temerity to instruct his former neighbors!

He shows up, dazzles everyone with a startling announcement, and then, just when people are starting to think maybe he really can do some of those amazing things they’ve heard about, he proceeds to insult the entire congregation —implying God would rather reveal his miracles to outsiders than to people like them. What a slap in the face!

Joe’s kid. Mary’s boy.

I can’t help but wonder if we still do this. Do we have Jesus tucked away in a nice pigeonhole ... one that is more comfortable for us? It’s easy to just see Jesus from one angle, to regard Him as supporting one particular viewpoint or other, looking a certain way, sounding a certain way. The home folk completely missed the miracle that stood before them and among them.

And all because they thought they knew him.

Which Jesus do you know?

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Different versions of this reflection appeared in 2010 and 2012.
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany (February 3, 2019)
Here is the link to a table of readings for the Epiphany Season: https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//lections.php?year=C&season=Epiphany

Jeremiah 1:4-10
Psalm 71:1-6
1 Corinthians 13:1-13
Luke 4:21-30
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Join us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We meet at the Waco “egg and I” restaurant and the fun starts at 8:00. I can't promise any miracles, but I'm pretty sure no one in our group ever changed your diapers

Enjoy the week!
Steve