Friday, July 3, 2020

Pretending in the Pandemic: My Alternate History (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

I have another life.

During this pandemic, I’ve been tempted to enter one of the many immersive online gaming communities. I think it might be fun to assemble an avatar and dive into the action ... and it certainly would be a diversion from all the problems of this present dark time.

But then I remember ... I already have another life.

It is a different time ... actually, it’s a different timeline. People there dress in clothing that looks a lot like steampunk costumes, great dirigibles ply the skies, and automobiles look much as they did in the early part of the 20th Century.

In my imagined life, I am in service to the Queen of England; her personal Paladin. My friends are people like Nikola Tesla and Harriet Quimby. I have many adventures, drive and fly interesting vehicles, and often "go undercover" to ferret out enemies of the Crown.

It's all in fun, a harmless exercise of my imagination. My alternate history lives on a Pinterest board where, by pinning photos, I tell a kind of story about a life where there's ... well ... just a bit more swash in my buckle than in my real life.

And that brings me to something important: We don't always like our real lives. Sometimes, we don't even like ourselves.

We struggle with how to live a good life, often fighting inclinations to do things we know we should not, and sometimes losing that fight. In a pretend life, we are completely in control. So, it's nice to pretend from time to time, to "get away" for awhile from the pressures of this life. It can be fun, and even a relief.

But we must not allow ourselves to spend too much of our time in these retreats. As Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote in his poem, A Psalm of Life:

“Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not thy goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul
.”

Each of us does have another life, a different life; the one that continues after this one concludes. Scripture says we get a new body ... and adventures so amazing they can't be described in terms we can understand ... at least, not now.

For the time being, we must follow the teaching in this week's scriptures from Matthew and Romans. We must allow The Lord to place us in light harness so we may be guided; and we must trust God to rescue us when we live a life contrary to what we know is good.

I cannot imagine a better way.

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If interested, you can view my Pinterest Board, "In Another Life,"
HERE: http://pin.it/b1n2j5U (NOTE: my board instructions say “read from the bottom up,” which is correct. It’s just that Pinterest has placed other pins below mine. So, scroll down to the photos of Harriet Quimby and the ornate spiral staircase: that’s the bottom of my board. Then, start up)
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Slightly different versions of this reflection appeared in July 2017 and July 2014.

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 9 (14) (July 5, 2020)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=149

Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67
Psalm 45:10-17 or Song of Solomon 2:8-13
Zechariah 9:9-12
Psalm 145:8-14
Romans 7:15-25a
Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
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I wish we could all join together for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast, Friday morning, as has been our practice for many years. But, alas, the increase in COVID cases continues to prevent that.

In the interim, keep reading, keep praying, and keep safe.

Many Blessings,
Steve

Saturday, June 27, 2020

Feeling Like A Young John Cusack (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

Who is John Cusack and why are you singing about him?

That’s the question you could ask Ben Rector if you were to meet him. In his 2016 hit song, Brand New, Rector sings of new found love and its effect on him. He is so joy-filled, he believes he can do anything. The lyrics evoke a sense of newness tied to experiences like flying, dancing, and laughing.

It's a bit of stumble, though, when he sings: “I feel like a young John Cusack!

Today, John Cusack is quite recognizable as an actor, producer, and filmmaker. In the mid-1980s, though ... well, sure he was young, but he wasn’t much of anybody in the film world. He had been in a few films, some memorable (like Better Off Dead, still one of my favorite quirky and hilarious movies). But mostly, he had very small roles in pretty forgettable films.

Then, in 1989, he headlined a dark horse film called Say Anything.

In case you don't recall, Cusack played Lloyd Dobler, an average guy in every way. Lloyd decides that he will make a play for Diane, the most beautiful girl in his high school and, not incidentally, the class Valedictorian. Everyone, not least her father, is shocked when Diane agrees to date Lloyd. In the face of no real reason to be optimistic, optimism triumphs over skepticism.

There are no magical solutions to the challenges faced by the unlikely duo. There’s no convenient plot twist that makes everything work out perfectly. The only "super power" on display is Lloyd's youthful optimism.

And, that brings us to the question: why did Ben Rector put John Cusack in those lyrics; why include John Cusack in a song about the empowerment of love? Answer: Ben was thinking of Lloyd's optimism. Being in love made Ben feel that he, too, could risk it all.

Ben had faith.

In this week's passage from Genesis, things had been rocking along pretty well for Abraham. Life was good. Having a son meant he had an heir, a huge thing for Abraham. After many, many decades of thinking his servants would inherit, life had made a very positive turn. It felt brand new. And his love for his son was the centerpiece of that.

Then, he is commanded by God to sacrifice his son. That had to be a shock.

And yet ... Abraham obeyed God's command. Clinging to a thin optimism that, somehow —in the face of all evidence to the contrary— God would make it all be OK.

Abraham had faith.

Read the passage to find out what happened and learn why one of God's names is Jehovah-Jireh ... "God Provides."

And prepare to feel brand new.

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PHOTO: https://www.amazon.com/Brand-New-Ben-Rector/dp/B012T93AWY

A different version of this reflection appeared in summer 2017 as Say Anything.

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More about John Cusack and Lloyd Dobler here: https://g.co/kgs/mv9uTk
And here: http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-say-anything-1989


More about Ben Rector and Brand New here: http://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/rock/7476878/ben-rector-talks-first-hot-100-hit-brand-new
And here: http://roughstock.com/news/2016/06/40507-album-review-ben-rector-brand-new

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 8 (11) (June 28, 2020)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=148

Genesis 22:1-14
Psalm 13
Jeremiah 28:5-9
Psalm 89:1-4, 15-18
Romans 6:12-23
Matthew 10:40-42

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We continue on in the world of social distancing, and so there’s still no in-person meeting of DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. Please keep reading the scriptures and praying for us all. Let me know if you want to discuss.

Blessings,
Steve

Sunday, June 21, 2020

Is the Pandemic the “Big Bad?” (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

It started with Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Well, that’s not entirely the truth. For us humans, there has always been some kind of “big bad.” It’s been with us so long, we buried it in our stories ... but it’s always been there. And in our stories, there have always been heroes to fight it. Knights to battle the dragons. Dark Knights to combat the criminals.

But it was Buffy and her “Scooby Gang” who first called it the “Big Bad.” And it was never just the monsters they fought each week. It was something truly big. Something world-shattering.

So what is the "big bad"?

For the answer, let's look at this week's scriptures; they're packed full of the Big Bad.

Like with Hagar in Genesis, it’s the realization that you and your child are not going to survive. Even those you thought were your friends seek to harm you, and your family shuns you. It’s knowing, now that your family and friends have turned against you, that no one stands with you. It’s facing the inescapable death by dehydration when there is no longer any water.

Like the Psalmist this week, it’s the drowning when the mighty waters rise above us. It’s the sure knowledge that no knight, whatever his or her stripe, can save us from what is to come. It is there, in the moment we realize all is lost, the moment when clarity shows us there is no escape, that ...

... we need to remember there is another.

If we have been waiting for just the right time, there is no more margin for waiting. It is the day of our trouble. We need to call on The Lord. In Jeremiah, he declares that if he tries to withhold the message of God, it becomes like "a burning fire shut up in his bones," a fire he cannot hold in. That message, the one so hot no one can contain it, is that God continues to care about us, cares enough to "deliver the life of the needy from the hands of the evildoers."

The pandemic is bad ... but it’s not the Big Bad.

Death has been the Big Bad for us for so long —the biggest, the true inescapable fate— for as long as recorded history. But that time has ended. Jeremiah’s bone-burning message eventually took human form as the Messiah. And it was His sacrifice —the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus— that turned what was once an inescapable prison into a mere way-station.

That’s why, in the day of our troubles —facing our own world-shattering Big Bad— we can confidently call on The Lord ... knowing in our very bones the Big Bad isn’t really so big.

It can never overcome the Big Good.

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Different versions of this reflection appeared in 2017 as Burning Bones and the Big Bad and in 2014 as The Big Bad.


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FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 7 (12) (June 21, 2020)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=147

Genesis 21:8-21
Psalm 86:1-10, 16-17
Jeremiah 20:7-13
Psalm 69:7-10, (11-15), 16-18
Romans 6:1b-11
Matthew 10:24-39

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We continue to remain on hold for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. In the meantime, keep safe and keep in touch. Read the scriptures and pray.

Blessings,
Steve

PS: If you want to, feel free to drop me a line (stephen.c.orr@gmail.com). I’ll write back.

Sunday, June 14, 2020

A Sudden Chill (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

Changing weather is just part of life. Most of us have found ways to factor in its changeability. Still, there are those times that surprise us ... and sometimes overwhelm us.

It was just three years ago, this week, that we experienced one of those sudden and shocking changes: It almost snowed on us ... in June.

We had been cruising the ocean along the eastern coast of Canada. That day, our port of call was Sydney (Cape Breton, Nova Scotia). The weather report called for a dry 61° Fahrenheit, high clouds, and some sun. A light jacket would be all that was needed.

All went well in the morning; but as the afternoon settled in, we saw the clouds darkening and dropping low. The temps dropped with them. Zipping up our windbreakers, we decided to walk back to the ship. In short order, we found ourselves struggling against a stiff, cold wind.

And a chilling mist.

We weren’t actually far from the ship. But the weather changed so quickly, it was worsening the closer we got. Locals we encountered told us they had just heard there might be snow on the way. In June. None of them appeared the least bit surprised.

I am not a winter person.

And my years living in New England has done nothing but reinforce my negative feelings about the cold. Cars that wouldn't start, constantly falling down on slick surfaces, impassable roads, power outages, being late to ... well, everything; never, ever getting warm enough. And, worst of all, the claustrophobic feeling it would never end.
But ...

Summer in New England, and the few weeks that bookend either side of it, is a lovely time. Very Robert Frost. When winter does finally end, everyone feels an uplift in spirit; joy fills every heart. A kind of collective amnesia overtakes, clouding the harsher memories of winter.

So, deep in the winter, people think of the spring to come, of the green grass, flowers, and the planting of gardens. They think of the warm days of summer and the eventual harvest.

They have hope.

They know that every inch of snow piled upon the ground throughout the winter is actually stored water, just waiting for spring to release it. Water that brings life to the land, the plants, the animals, and all of us humans who could not survive without it.

This week’s Romans passage talks about a "hope that does not disappoint." Such hope is more than just a wish; it is a confidence that good will come. The passage asserts that, by enduring our sufferings, we gain character ... the kind of character that can hope, unreservedly, in the belief that our faith is not misplaced.

On that day of sudden chill, our ship pulled away from the port and headed out to sea. As we stood on the back deck, we watched the port shrink to toy-size, then ornament size. Soon, we left lowering clouds behind. Above us, patches of sun-drenched cerulean blue began to appear. Within ten minutes of leaving, I could stand on the deck without a jacket ... not a cloud in sight.

Regardless of their length or severity, we must not let bouts of bad weather —our sufferings— distract us from the hope that does not disappoint. Our faith is our storehouse of that hope. And it will see us through our winters.

Even really brief ones.

Even in June.

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Portions of this reflection are borrowed from a June 2017 reflection titled Snow in June?! and a 2014 reflection titled Winter is Coming.

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 6 (11) (June 14, 2020)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=146

Genesis 18:1-15, (21:1-7)
Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19
Exodus 19:2-8a
Psalm 100
Romans 5:1-8
Matthew 9:35-10:8, (9-23)

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According to the calendar, Summer is just around the corner (Summer heat is already in Texas ... We hit triple digits this week). DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast remains on hiatus. We all look forward to the time we can gather in person. Until then, enjoy the coming week’s scriptures. Keep praying and keep safe.

Blessings,
Steve

Saturday, June 6, 2020

The Wedding of Sam Houston (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

The following confession will shock many Texans.

Before I moved to Texas, I had never heard of Sam Houston. Possibly worse: I believe if I hadn’t moved to Texas, I likely would have never heard of Sam Houston.

Still, if you come to Texas, you will discover that much has been written about Sam. His stamp on public life and on the political side of our nation cannot be overstated. He was a member of the House of Representatives, a Governor of Tennessee, and a military leader in the War of 1812 ... and that was before he moved to Texas. After that, he went on to be a leader in the Texas Revolution, served as the 1st and 3rd President of the Republic of Texas, shepherded the treaty that later joined Texas to the United States, was a US Senator from Texas, and then served as Governor of Texas.

Houston was a complex, complicated person. His was a dissolute youth and a wild adulthood. He was known for his drunkenness, womanizing, and brawling.

What is often overlooked: his spiritual side.

Twice, Sam was drawn to christian beliefs and sought baptism. He was turned down. Twice. Later, when Sam moved to Texas (then part of Mexico), he was baptized into the Catholic Church. However, no one could own land in Texas without joining the Catholic Church. Mexican Dictator Santa Anna required everyone to practice that one religion. No other church was tolerated.

Later in life, though, Sam Houston experienced a true conversion, committing his life to the Lord. What happened?

A person.

When Sam married Margaret Lea, a woman 26 years his junior, there was frank and open skepticism. But, they were happily married 23 years, until Sam's death. Margaret's impact on Sam's life was deep and broad. He made changes he believed were important to his new life (e.g., he became a tea-totaler, not even having alcohol for guests). They produced and raised eight children. And, under her discipleship, Sam slowly began to move in the direction of The Lord. While away from home in Washington, DC, he began attending the E Street Baptist church.

Still, it was only after Sam moved his family to the bustling village of Independence, Texas so his daughters could attend Baylor University —one of the few admitting women at the time— that he seriously considered conversion.

Finally, on November 19, 1854, over 14 years after marrying Margaret, Sam was baptized in Independence's Little Rocky Creek. What made the difference: the calm, considerate, constant teaching of Margaret, the example she set for Sam as wife and mother, and her own faith in The Lord. It took 14 years of her life, and many, many more of his to arrive at that juncture.

Now, over 150 years later, the creek is still there, as it the little church Sam and Margaret attended. Adults are still baptized in Little Rocky Creek. One can only hope they are being discipled by folks who, like Margaret, will take whatever time is needed; who will approach the process in the order set forth in this week's Matthew passage.

Disciple, baptize, teach them the commands and to obey them. And, finally, help them know that Jesus will be with them always ... even to the very end.

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Different versions of this reflection were published in June 2014 and June 2017.

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Trinity Sunday (June 7, 2020)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=142

Genesis 1:1-2:4a
Psalm 8
2 Corinthians 13:11-13
Matthew 28:16-20

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June 7th will be DaySpring’s first Sunday back for in-person worship. Sadly, Lectionary Breakfast is still on break. Until we can get together, let’s all keep reading scripture and praying for each other.

Blessings,
Steve

Saturday, May 30, 2020

The Lord of the Ring-Bearers (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

JRR Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy is all about a company of persons chosen to go on a great quest.

As is common in such quests, the fellowship —charged with shepherding the "Ring of Power" to its destruction in the volcanic fires of Mount Doom— is packed with persons of great stature. There are current royals, future royals, great warriors, the brave, the bold, and ... some Hobbits.

These hairy-footed little Hobbits —not the brave, the bold, the royals, or the great warriors— are the focus of the story. They are from a pleasant backwater of Middle Earth called The Shire. Outside of the adventures recounted by Tolkien, these little beings live generally low-key, unsophisticated lives; taking joy from eating and drinking and other homely activities ... the kinds of lives where Second Breakfast may well be the high point of the day.

And yet, Tolkien chose Hobbits to actually bear the corrupting "Ring of Power" to its intended unmaking. Much debated: why were the Hobbits entrusted with such a crucial task?

It reminds me of the reaction of the crowd at Pentecost to those chosen by Jesus as the bearers of his Good News.

["Utterly amazed, they asked: 'Aren’t all these who are speaking Galileans?'" Acts 2:7 NIV].

I know it’s not a movie script, but I think the Bible translators may have really "under sold" the crowd's reaction. Shouldn't there be an exclamation point in there somewhere??!!

Umm, Galileans?! Really?!

That pretty much sums up the general response of ... well, almost everyone who encounters this band of Jesus-followers. They consider them unsophisticated and ill-suited to the tasks they have been assigned. Nathanael was not the first (nor the last!) to ask, “Can any good thing come from Nazareth?

And yet, these rough people are the ones Jesus chose.

In The Lord of the Rings, Gandalf chose the Hobbits to take the ring to its doom because they could bear it ... as opposed to every other member of the fellowship —those brave and bold fellows— who would likely succumb to the corruption that comes from possessing such great power.

I don't think we know why Jesus chose the Galileans for the core of His group. But maybe it was for a similar reason. None of the seemingly obvious choices, as it turned out, were really appropriate.

Sometimes, the very person needed for the difficult task is the one judged as least likely. Never forget: God chooses whom God chooses ... and God often chooses “the least of these.”


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Portions of this reflection are from Hobbits at Pentecost? (a reflection that appeared in May, 2013).

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Here is a link to a Table of Readings that extends through May 31st: https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//lections.php?year=A&season=Easter

Day of Pentecost (May 31, 2020)
Acts 2:1-21 or Numbers 11:24-30
Psalm 104:24-34, 35b
1 Corinthians 12:3b-13 or Acts 2:1-21
John 20:19-23 or John 7:37-39

Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth (May 31, 2020)
1 Samuel 2:1-10
Psalm 113
Romans 12:9-16b
Luke 1:39-57

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DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast remains on hold, of course. But we can still read this week’s scripture passages and reflect on their purpose for our own lives. We will focus on The Pentecost (the Acts passage), this coming Sunday; but, as you can see, I have also included Mary’s visit to Elizabeth, as well.

Blessings,
Steve

Sunday, May 24, 2020

Are You Lonely in the Pandemic? (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

How do we care for others in the Pandemic?

In a time when caution should be the watchword, a time when staying apart is the only option for many, a time when communication is usually not face-to-face, how do we care for others?

In the past, active caring meant being physically present. We visited the sick and those imprisoned. We actually went to the homes of shut-ins. We lifted, bathed, fed, dressed, and generally assisted those who could not do for themselves.

We were hands-on.

Today many, for whom we were once present, are alone. True, there is a difference between "alone" and "lonely," but the difference is not quantitative. When we say someone is alone, we mean a person is by themselves. Lonely, though, has no numerical limit. Sometimes we want to be alone; it's a choice. Sometimes we experience unplanned aloneness, but that is not necessarily unpleasant. Some of us enjoy our alone times, even if they happen upon us randomly.

Lonely, on the other hand, is not good. We need interaction with others, to one degree or another, and we have had that need from the very beginning.

“One” really can be the loneliest number.

Stephen Covey gets at this in his book, First Things First. He suggests there are certain things we need in life: "to live, to love, to learn, to leave a legacy." All four are worth our time to explore, but let’s focus on "to love." It’s all about our need to relate to others —to love and be loved. One interesting aspect of this: it doesn’t come pre-loaded with a sense of urgency. In fact, unless we intentionally cultivate it, we tend to not have it. “To love” awaits our desire to elevate it to true importance in our lives.

And that brings us to this weeks Psalm 68 selection. It asserts that God "sets the lonely in families." This passage carries a sense of restoration; of being placed among those who care about our wellbeing; of, finally, coming home.

What does that mean for us, today, as we continue to grapple with separation, social distancing, face masks, latex gloves, and lockdowns? God knows our needs ... all of them. We are made in His image; how could He not know? And he offers to meet those needs. But how God meets our needs is almost never through some miraculous agency. No, it’s almost always through the good actions of other people in our lives.

There’s two directions to this. One direction is how we “reach out” to those in need when we cannot, physically, be present with them. It may seem obvious, but let’s say it: do what you can. Phone them, write them, message them ... and don’t do it just once. Make a habit of it. They need our connection, even if we can’t join them or touch them.

The other direction? Are you lonely? Take an inventory. Look about at all those people who used to surround you every day. You know the ones: maybe in the past they got on your nerves, stood too close, talked over you; maybe they forgot to return your stuff; maybe they were the ones who lived for the drama; but maybe you also noticed that they meant well. Sometimes they hugged you even when you didn’t want to be touched, and they often showed up uninvited (but also came when you were ill or in need). Sometimes they were needy. And let's face it, their choices baffle you, including the one where they chose to hang around you.

They're also the people who were consistently present in your life. Or, to look at it another way: they are the ones who choose you.

Congratulations. God has already placed you in a family. Allow yourself to see them for the gift they are. Reach out and connect (even if it’s not in person) ... and enjoy.


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Portions of this reflection are borrowed from a June, 2014 entry titled “Live, Love, Learn, Leave A Legacy.”

PHOTO: Steve Orr
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
CLICK HERE or copy and paste—> https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//lections.php?year=A&season=Easter

Seventh Sunday of Easter (May 24, 2020)
Acts 1:6-14
Psalm 68:1-10, 32-35
1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11
John 17:1-11
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DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast is still on hiatus. Here are the coming week’s scriptures for Sunday, May 24th (Seventh Sunday of Easter), as well as a reflection.

Blessings,
Steve