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

Whatever Happend to “Strong is the New Skinny”? (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Back in 2013, I stumbled onto a Facebook page using the tag line, “Strong is the New Skinny.” After a quick read, I came to a couple conclusions: (1) It was a page intended for women, and (2) it contained some of the best body advice/guidance I had come across.

And then I saw the link to her blog.*

Despite being aimed mostly at women, I found I could relate to a lot of of her philosophy. The messages included a lot of straight talk about body image, encouragement, positive self-worth, and finishing (not "finishing first," but rather "finishing what you start"). To me, it could be summed up like this: if you have the choice, strong is better than weak, and it is worth your time and energy to pursue strength.

At the time, I was exercising two/three nights a week at an LA Fitness. So, fitness was top of mind for me. I was intrigued. I kept reading. Soon, I realized I was captivated by her positive approach, so captivated I even incorporated it into a Lectionary reflection (“Strong is the New Spiritual” January 2013).

And that brings me to this week's Lectionary selection from Nehemiah. In 2013, I noted the passage dealt with a group of 40,000 people who had recently returned after being exiled from Israel; many of whom had not been exposed to the scriptures while in exile. They had assembled in the ruins of Jerusalem —the walls had been restored, but no houses had yet been built— to (finally) hear the word of God. Their reaction when those were read to them?

They wept.

It’s understandable. Suddenly confronted with just how far their lives had drifted from what scripture required of them —and thinking, perhaps, that it was too late for reconciliation— weeping and mourning seemed entirely appropriate. And you might think this was the response sought by Ezra the Priest and the religious leaders ... but, no.

As we know from Ecclesiastes 3:4, there is “a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.” Any trainer can tell you, it's not enough to just stop doing something that you should stop doing. You need to start doing something else, replace the negative with a positive. And that is what their leaders did; they told the people to replace their sadness with joy; that it was not the time to weep and mourn. Instead, they encouraged the people to, "Go your way, eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions of them to those for whom nothing is prepared, for this day is holy to our LORD; and do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength."

I don’t know whatever happened to “Strong is the New Skinny.” All I can find, now, is the same blog entries I read six years ago. The Facebook page has some content from 2016. A web search for that phrase yielded so many answers, it really was “like trying to find a needle in a haystack.” Maybe she moved to a different platform or to a new blog provider. Maybe she no longer wanted to share her thoughts with the wider world.

Maybe I’ll never know.

What I do know is this: regardless of our circumstances, we must be strong in The Lord. Despite what may be many reasons to mourn and weep, we must find a way to embrace the joy God intends for us. For the joy of The Lord is our strength.

And if that is the definition of strength, then strong really is the new spiritual.

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*Link to her website: (http://strongisnewskinny.blogspot.com/2012/09/a-strong-will-and-faith-to-match.html?m=1).
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PHOTO: Steve Orr
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Third Sunday after the Epiphany (January 27, 2019)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 12:12-31a
Luke 4:14-21
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We're still having fun at "THE EGG AND I" restaurant. Join us at 8:00 Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary breakfast! The restaurant is located in a shopping center at the corner of New Road and Franklin (just behind Outback). We usually meet in the function room. Ask if you don’t find us.

The heaviest thing you'll have to lift is your fork. And no push-ups required.

Enjoy!
Steve

Revisiting “My Chemical Romance” (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

When I was a boy of ten or so, I wanted a chemistry set. And, after much lobbying of my parents, I was given it; maybe for Christmas. I recall being very excited ... for about an hour.

It took me that long to conclude it wasn't what I thought it would be. To use it required an understanding of the scientific method, knowledge of how to conduct an experiment, and the ability to read and follow directions. None of which I possessed in sufficient quantity.

The main source of my disappointment, however, was one of expectation. What I expected was to be able to transform things, to turn one thing into another thing. I quickly learned that was not going to occur. And, as any real scientist will tell you, you must commit to a long term relationship with science if you want to get anywhere with it.

My chemical romance, it turned out, was nothing more than puppy love.

These memories came back to me as I read this week's Lectionary selection from the gospel of John: when Jesus attended a wedding at Cana. There's been a lot written about this event, with the most being about whether Jesus turned the water into alcoholic wine or not.

I was a bit surprised to discover just how strongly and deeply held are the positions people have taken. The Internet is packed with well-reasoned articles and papers arguing that scripture supports the water-cum-wine was not alcoholic ... or was. Only rarely did I come across anyone concluding, "we just cannot know." I went searching for enlightenment and found a hornet's nest, instead.

After reading several of these, I concluded that, like me and my chemistry set, many have missed the point.

And here it is: Jesus took one thing, and without so much as a gesture, transformed it into something else.

Stop for a minute, here, and let that really sink in

Almost everyone seems to want to argue over whether the water was turned into alcoholic wine or not. And while that may well be an important debate in another context, it obscures what is most important about this passage. The wedding steward doesn't say it is "a" good wine, but that it is "the" good wine; that the no-longer-water is not just good, but the very essence of good. Like every transformation accomplished by Jesus, it was something new ... the best.

There, in one seemingly small miracle, Jesus encapsulated his entire reason for being on Earth. He came to make us new creations. Not better human beings, not the best versions of ourselves, not ideals ... new... creations

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A different version of this reflection appeared in January 2016 as My Chemical Romance.

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PHOTO: Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands by Steve Orr (Yes, I know it has nothing to do I with the reflection. I just like it.)
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
January 20, 2019 - Second Sunday after Epiphany https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=108

Isaiah 62:1-5
Psalm 36:5-10
1 Corinthians 12:1-11
John 2:1-11
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Join us Friday morning if you're in the Waco area. We meet at 8:00 at the "Egg and I" restaurant for about an hour. Good food, good folk, and a feast for the soul.

It's transformative.

Enjoy the week!
Steve

Snorkeling Off Bonaire (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

The brochure promised a wonderful experience while snorkeling above a reef off the coast of Bonaire.

We traveled to Bonaire’s National Marine Park via the Aquaspace, “a unique, semi-submarine sailing trimaran.” Along the way, as we plied the pristine blue waters of the Southern Caribbean, we learned the Aquaspace was used by Jacques Cousteau to research underwater marine life.

There were just eight of us, plus a crew of two, on deck for the passage to the Park. People always say things like, “The water was such an amazing color of blue!” I wish I could be more original, but there just doesn't seem to be any other way to express it. There are not enough of the right words to truly describe it ... so beautiful.

In time, we arrived at a position between the islands of Bonaire and “Little Bonaire,” but closer to the latter. Once the crew dropped anchor, we were encouraged to “share the spirit of Cousteau” and observe the marine life in the glass gondola of that special ship.

I was surprised to learn the gondola was two decks down, well below the waterline. Somehow, the phrase “semi-submarine,” had slipped past me. It was my first moment of uneasiness. I suffer from “intermittent claustrophobia;” which is just a nice way of saying I never know when I’m going to be freaked out by too small a space or two large a crowd.

I carefully navigated the narrow steps down into an ever-darkening interior. When I reached the bottom, I was prepared to perform some deep breathing exercises to calm myself. I forced myself to look up ... and was entranced.

On either side, through the thick glass walls, was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. No matter where I looked, the reefs filled the view. They were absolutely alive with sea life; fish swimming all about, plants waving in the currents, coral formations of every color anchoring the scene.

I have no idea how long we all sat there, perched on little stools, faces just inches from the glass, taking in the treasures of that undersea world. I completely forgot my trepidation. There could be no fear in the presence of such majesty.

Afterward, I climbed back up to the deck having completely forgotten my earlier unease. That’s when the Captain said, “Okay, now we snorkel.” And I was ready.

Or, so I thought.

I placed the goggles over my eyes, seated the breathing tube into my mouth, stepped off the ladder at the back of the boat, and slid down into the water.

Panic overwhelmed me.

I could feel the water surrounding me, pressing on me. I felt I was drowning. I grabbed for the ladder, jerked my head back up into the air, and spit out the mouthpiece. Peace fled from me.

There had been caveats in that brochure. We had been warned that this excursion was not advisable for folks with mobility limitations or for those with a history of neck or back pain. There was nothing, though, about Claustrophobia.

Being in the water was completely different than watching it through thick walls of glass ... something I may already have known, intellectually, but which was now made real to me in a new and shocking way.

This week’s Psalm assures us God is the Lord over the waters, over the mighty waters. In the Isaiah passage, God comforts the people by declaring, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.”

Like my time in the glass gondola of the Aquaspace, our experiences can sometimes distract us, mislead us. When we base our confidence on anything other than the Lord, we can be lulled into a false peace. And like my time in actual water, our real life can be overwhelming.

We all need God with us when we’re in deep.


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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
January 13, 2019 - Baptism of the Lord
First Sunday after Epiphany
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=107

Isaiah 43:1-7
Psalm 29
Acts 8:14-17
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
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Join us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant. This hour of Bible, discussion, prayer, and, yes, laughter, starts at 8:00. If you don’t see us, ask.

Blessings,
Steve