January 2016
"Introducing the Lenten Fast"
The Lenten fast begins on Ash Wednesday, February 10th this year. All those who can should keep the fast until the first Eucharist of Easter/Pascha.
Fasting is not a commonly understood practice these days. It is not a complete absence of food; rather, it is a limited diet for a period of time. It has several purposes. It disciplines the soul and body; it removes luxury and indulgence from daily life; it puts us in solidarity with those who have no choice but to limit what they eat because of poverty. Done with forethought and with a view toward the historic practices of the fast, we can also understand better what our Christian ancestors experienced in their lives.
No meat, no poultry, no dairy, no eggs, no fish; no fats. No alcohol, no sugar. Saturday and Sunday, wine and olive oil can be used. It is a very low-fat, vegan, teetotalling diet. Assuming one does not have other health issues, it won’t hurt one bit.
It is a diet very much like a true Neolithic diet – high in whole grains and vegetables, with no luxuries. Our ancestors had to eat like this most of the winter months. Animals to be slaughtered were kept alive as needed, or the meat preserved by drying or salting, to be rationed out on occasion. Dairy animals went dry in the shorter days, as did laying ducks, geese and (later in history) hens. Frozen rivers and storm-haunted salt water made fishing difficult. The butter and vegetable oils were to be eked out over the dark months.
Two meals a day are allowed, breaking the fast the morning and an early evening meal. Plain bread and vegetables can be taken mid-day, if necessary for those with physical work. This is not supposed to be luxurious, indulgent or particularly enjoyable. It is a short season of eating basically, just to live. It is not about pleasure or indulgence, but gratitude.
It is easy to be grateful when we have an abundance, when we are more than satisfied, when we feel as if all the good things in life may come our way for the asking. Gratitude to the One who bestows all the blessings is a lot more difficult when in fact all we have is our daily bread, and nothing else, perhaps not even tomorrow’s bread.
Fasting is not a commonly understood practice these days. It is not a complete absence of food; rather, it is a limited diet for a period of time. It has several purposes. It disciplines the soul and body; it removes luxury and indulgence from daily life; it puts us in solidarity with those who have no choice but to limit what they eat because of poverty. Done with forethought and with a view toward the historic practices of the fast, we can also understand better what our Christian ancestors experienced in their lives.
No meat, no poultry, no dairy, no eggs, no fish; no fats. No alcohol, no sugar. Saturday and Sunday, wine and olive oil can be used. It is a very low-fat, vegan, teetotalling diet. Assuming one does not have other health issues, it won’t hurt one bit.
It is a diet very much like a true Neolithic diet – high in whole grains and vegetables, with no luxuries. Our ancestors had to eat like this most of the winter months. Animals to be slaughtered were kept alive as needed, or the meat preserved by drying or salting, to be rationed out on occasion. Dairy animals went dry in the shorter days, as did laying ducks, geese and (later in history) hens. Frozen rivers and storm-haunted salt water made fishing difficult. The butter and vegetable oils were to be eked out over the dark months.
Two meals a day are allowed, breaking the fast the morning and an early evening meal. Plain bread and vegetables can be taken mid-day, if necessary for those with physical work. This is not supposed to be luxurious, indulgent or particularly enjoyable. It is a short season of eating basically, just to live. It is not about pleasure or indulgence, but gratitude.
It is easy to be grateful when we have an abundance, when we are more than satisfied, when we feel as if all the good things in life may come our way for the asking. Gratitude to the One who bestows all the blessings is a lot more difficult when in fact all we have is our daily bread, and nothing else, perhaps not even tomorrow’s bread.
“Know the Ways”
Christian faith is not merely a set of practices, or beliefs. It is a religion in that it does prescribe modes of behavior as exemplary, gathers as a body for focused prayer and instruction, and establishes new communities.
But right from the beginning, it was “The Way.” Jesus himself continually traveled throughout first century Palestine, re-enacting the peripatetic nature of the Hebrew scripture narrative. “And then he went…” is a common literary device in the Greek scriptures, both for Jesus in the Gospels and for the apostles throughout the Acts and the epistles.
Hildegard of Bingen wrote a book about her complex visions of God and the universe called “Scivias,” or “Know the Ways,” abbreviated from "Scito vias Domini," "know the ways of the Lord."
Christian faith is a journey. It is often a physical journey, taking the faithful from their birth homes to places distant, into new communities and to form new communities. It is a spiritual journey, away from self-centeredness and negative emotions to a state of God-mindfulness and peace. It is a temporal journey, beginning with the first childhood imagination of what is beyond self, to the deathbed realization of the final union with the Great Divine.
In the YOKE, our temporary dwellings and classrooms are known as “stations,” places to rest and work along the journey. This evokes the images of “the stations of the cross,” the memory of Jesus’s last journey to his death and resurrection. It also evokes the cultural images of railroad stations, bus stations, even the nostalgia of stagecoach stations, as places of rest and change as one traveled.
John Bunyan’s beloved classic, “Pilgrim’s Progress,” is an allegory of the Christian journey, and the protagonist learns by trial and error, taking good advice and rejecting bad advice, which is the high road to God’s Kingdom.
Our African branch of the YOKE is called “Njia,” the way, in Swahili. Working among war refugees and with orphaned and abandoned children who have fled to their safe havens, Njia is a station of peace and grace.
Some have commented, whether negatively or favorably, that the YOKE does not open churches. It is not that we disapprove of churches as dedicated gathering places for worship and community activity, but that every place we establish as a station to harbor the poor, feed the hungry, educate the children while we pray as one is our church. Schoolrooms, dining halls, open air spaces – all of these are our churches. We pray in kitchens, on porches, and on the street.
Our worship procession begins at heaven’s gates and goes forth to our stations in this life, and eventually, by the grace of God, we will return to God’s altar and table, and remain with our Creator into eternity.
Christian faith is not merely a set of practices, or beliefs. It is a religion in that it does prescribe modes of behavior as exemplary, gathers as a body for focused prayer and instruction, and establishes new communities.
But right from the beginning, it was “The Way.” Jesus himself continually traveled throughout first century Palestine, re-enacting the peripatetic nature of the Hebrew scripture narrative. “And then he went…” is a common literary device in the Greek scriptures, both for Jesus in the Gospels and for the apostles throughout the Acts and the epistles.
Hildegard of Bingen wrote a book about her complex visions of God and the universe called “Scivias,” or “Know the Ways,” abbreviated from "Scito vias Domini," "know the ways of the Lord."
Christian faith is a journey. It is often a physical journey, taking the faithful from their birth homes to places distant, into new communities and to form new communities. It is a spiritual journey, away from self-centeredness and negative emotions to a state of God-mindfulness and peace. It is a temporal journey, beginning with the first childhood imagination of what is beyond self, to the deathbed realization of the final union with the Great Divine.
In the YOKE, our temporary dwellings and classrooms are known as “stations,” places to rest and work along the journey. This evokes the images of “the stations of the cross,” the memory of Jesus’s last journey to his death and resurrection. It also evokes the cultural images of railroad stations, bus stations, even the nostalgia of stagecoach stations, as places of rest and change as one traveled.
John Bunyan’s beloved classic, “Pilgrim’s Progress,” is an allegory of the Christian journey, and the protagonist learns by trial and error, taking good advice and rejecting bad advice, which is the high road to God’s Kingdom.
Our African branch of the YOKE is called “Njia,” the way, in Swahili. Working among war refugees and with orphaned and abandoned children who have fled to their safe havens, Njia is a station of peace and grace.
Some have commented, whether negatively or favorably, that the YOKE does not open churches. It is not that we disapprove of churches as dedicated gathering places for worship and community activity, but that every place we establish as a station to harbor the poor, feed the hungry, educate the children while we pray as one is our church. Schoolrooms, dining halls, open air spaces – all of these are our churches. We pray in kitchens, on porches, and on the street.
Our worship procession begins at heaven’s gates and goes forth to our stations in this life, and eventually, by the grace of God, we will return to God’s altar and table, and remain with our Creator into eternity.
Advent 2015
Let us pray...
Blessed Father,
No one woman has stood taller than the mother of our Savior.
She disdained this world and accepted humility as her way.
She set aside her own dreams and followed a vision.
Lord, give those of us who are mothers to Your children Mary’s peacefulness and passion.
Grant us patience of their foibles, and of our own fragility.
Teach us, Lord, to put down our own ambitions and longings for a false stability and send us out in servitude to Your Son.
May we always honor she who bore a starry crown even on earth, and whose blood is the blood of Jesus.
Amen
Blessed Father,
No one woman has stood taller than the mother of our Savior.
She disdained this world and accepted humility as her way.
She set aside her own dreams and followed a vision.
Lord, give those of us who are mothers to Your children Mary’s peacefulness and passion.
Grant us patience of their foibles, and of our own fragility.
Teach us, Lord, to put down our own ambitions and longings for a false stability and send us out in servitude to Your Son.
May we always honor she who bore a starry crown even on earth, and whose blood is the blood of Jesus.
Amen
Mother's Reflections for Advent
In His time on this earth, His mother suffered for Him and gave Him directly the gifts of God.
At times, in my ministry, I have been an outreach missioner on the streets of cities such as Washington, DC and Chicago. I went out directly to those in the most need: the homeless, the lost, the destitute. They found me, or I sought them out. God put us in each others paths.
These people, in the Spirit, know who I am. I am the mother God sent to be with them on their way, at least for a while. I bring food, water, clothing. I have a few dollars to get them through. I buy bus tickets and train tickets. I get them out of the cold and the rain. I listen to them. I sometimes give advice: how to pray, where to get an injury treated.
I love my children of the Way. Some are so damaged that they do not remember who Jesus Christ is, so I try to show Him looking out of my eyes. I see Him in them as they sit broken and racked with pain, haunted by the voices of hell. He suffered through this, first in the wilderness, and then on the cross. He went hungry. He cried. He had no home. In His time on this earth, His mother suffered for Him and gave Him directly the gifts of God.
Some of those people would return to Christ’s fold. They are the ones who speak with the angels, who have walked with Jesus on the road to Jerusalem. They are frightened and lost in the world. They have great hearts to serve God, but have no church from which to do that. They long for an ecclesia, and for a loving family to help them. Others who are my children are still bound by the chains of hell. God gives them a mother’s comfort in the times they can feel it, but they are today’s lepers, and not all are cured of their ostracism. I love them all the more.
These people, in the Spirit, know who I am. I am the mother God sent to be with them on their way, at least for a while. I bring food, water, clothing. I have a few dollars to get them through. I buy bus tickets and train tickets. I get them out of the cold and the rain. I listen to them. I sometimes give advice: how to pray, where to get an injury treated.
I love my children of the Way. Some are so damaged that they do not remember who Jesus Christ is, so I try to show Him looking out of my eyes. I see Him in them as they sit broken and racked with pain, haunted by the voices of hell. He suffered through this, first in the wilderness, and then on the cross. He went hungry. He cried. He had no home. In His time on this earth, His mother suffered for Him and gave Him directly the gifts of God.
Some of those people would return to Christ’s fold. They are the ones who speak with the angels, who have walked with Jesus on the road to Jerusalem. They are frightened and lost in the world. They have great hearts to serve God, but have no church from which to do that. They long for an ecclesia, and for a loving family to help them. Others who are my children are still bound by the chains of hell. God gives them a mother’s comfort in the times they can feel it, but they are today’s lepers, and not all are cured of their ostracism. I love them all the more.
I was that girl, too. All women are called to be that girl.
I have preached and heard preached many, many times, “Be Christ to one another.” I believe this. And I would ask you, as well, to be Mary to one another. Be blessed, and be the blessing.
There was a girl, spinning a purple thread. Her thoughts were on her future home, on dreams of a child, a garden, a hearth. Then in a flash like the sun on the sea, her life changed.
She finished the thread, wove the shawl, married, and had the child, the garden, the hearth. Her life was changed forever, really forever, for the universe itself had changed around her.
Miriam of Nazareth was that girl. I was that girl, too. All women are called to be that girl. And men, too – to love, to surrender, to care. While we are called to be Christ to one another, Jesus of Nazareth – little Yoshi – learned love and compassion playing at His mother’s side as she spun, cooked, sang hymns, talked gently with her husband.
While many mothers are pleased to send their children out into the world, taking pride in their accomplishments, consoling them in their defeats and disappointments. Grandmothers dote on the babes of their own children. And then there are the Miriams of the Kingdom.
She left the family home, packed up a few things, and turned her back on her hearth and garden. She took up the way her son went. She was His companion on foot. She cooked meals over open fires, did laundry in cold streams, carried water back to camp. She listened, advised, consoled, and laughed. She ministered to her son as he ministered to a lost world.
I call Him Savior and Lord, my king. I call Miriam mother, and I also call her companion. She is a sister of the veil, a sister of the water jar, a sister of the spindle, a sister of the fire. She and I do the same work, day after day.
There was a girl, spinning a purple thread. Her thoughts were on her future home, on dreams of a child, a garden, a hearth. Then in a flash like the sun on the sea, her life changed.
She finished the thread, wove the shawl, married, and had the child, the garden, the hearth. Her life was changed forever, really forever, for the universe itself had changed around her.
Miriam of Nazareth was that girl. I was that girl, too. All women are called to be that girl. And men, too – to love, to surrender, to care. While we are called to be Christ to one another, Jesus of Nazareth – little Yoshi – learned love and compassion playing at His mother’s side as she spun, cooked, sang hymns, talked gently with her husband.
While many mothers are pleased to send their children out into the world, taking pride in their accomplishments, consoling them in their defeats and disappointments. Grandmothers dote on the babes of their own children. And then there are the Miriams of the Kingdom.
She left the family home, packed up a few things, and turned her back on her hearth and garden. She took up the way her son went. She was His companion on foot. She cooked meals over open fires, did laundry in cold streams, carried water back to camp. She listened, advised, consoled, and laughed. She ministered to her son as he ministered to a lost world.
I call Him Savior and Lord, my king. I call Miriam mother, and I also call her companion. She is a sister of the veil, a sister of the water jar, a sister of the spindle, a sister of the fire. She and I do the same work, day after day.
10-26-15
Prayer should be so simple. “Oh, just share your heart with God.”
But how do we know God hears us? We may have a sense of peace following prayer, or know God spoke in our hearts. And then…some days…it feels as if we merely breathed a few words into the air, and nothing coming back.
God hears us. Jesus has reassured of this, as He taught His disciples to pray simply, openly, asking for the basic needs, while offering praise and contrition. And while we may humble ourselves in an attitude of prayer by kneeling, closing our eyes, or even lying face down on the floor, this is not prayer itself. A stream of words and beautiful phrases may seem gratifying, an offering of sweet fragrance, and this is not prayer itself.
We are busy people, as well. Even dedicated religious who have set times for prayer feel rushed as they address their daily tasks. Our minds wander as we sit or kneel. We worry that we are not actually praying just because we are in a place of prayer, words in our minds or mouths, with a scattered intention.
Is it enough of a prayer to turn our thoughts and spirits briefly to God in petition, contrition and praise? Or is that laziness and an excuse?
The eastern church has had a long practice of centering the heart in prayer with the intentional repetition of a phrase, “Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner,” or similar words. This is said aloud or silently while counting on a knotted circular strand or chain of beads, similar to a rosary. The prayer comes to live in the heart, a constant prayer of humility and dedication.
The Roman church has the Rosary, repeated petitions to the Mother of God for her prayers, interspersed with the Lord’s prayer and the Gloria. Meditations on the holy mysteries of faith are held in mind. This is a daily discipline, a sacrifice of time and mental energy to God, with the reward of inner peace.
But what of those who aren’t called to these particular prayer vocations? When there isn’t time, or a place, or the energy for a serious prayer discipline.
First, we are praying all the time without realizing it. When we ourselves have an intention to give our thoughts and emotions to God, then our humble and heartfelt silent words are prayers. Our concern and love for others, our simple trust, and our faith in God are enough.
Equally, we need to give up something we value to give up that time for prayer to God. A sacrifice, an offering, of time and focus. Ten minutes in the morning, fifteen minutes at night. Kneel, sit, or lie in bed with a prayer book. Give the time to God. Get to know God better, and God will change you.
Prayer should be so simple. “Oh, just share your heart with God.”
But how do we know God hears us? We may have a sense of peace following prayer, or know God spoke in our hearts. And then…some days…it feels as if we merely breathed a few words into the air, and nothing coming back.
God hears us. Jesus has reassured of this, as He taught His disciples to pray simply, openly, asking for the basic needs, while offering praise and contrition. And while we may humble ourselves in an attitude of prayer by kneeling, closing our eyes, or even lying face down on the floor, this is not prayer itself. A stream of words and beautiful phrases may seem gratifying, an offering of sweet fragrance, and this is not prayer itself.
We are busy people, as well. Even dedicated religious who have set times for prayer feel rushed as they address their daily tasks. Our minds wander as we sit or kneel. We worry that we are not actually praying just because we are in a place of prayer, words in our minds or mouths, with a scattered intention.
Is it enough of a prayer to turn our thoughts and spirits briefly to God in petition, contrition and praise? Or is that laziness and an excuse?
The eastern church has had a long practice of centering the heart in prayer with the intentional repetition of a phrase, “Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner,” or similar words. This is said aloud or silently while counting on a knotted circular strand or chain of beads, similar to a rosary. The prayer comes to live in the heart, a constant prayer of humility and dedication.
The Roman church has the Rosary, repeated petitions to the Mother of God for her prayers, interspersed with the Lord’s prayer and the Gloria. Meditations on the holy mysteries of faith are held in mind. This is a daily discipline, a sacrifice of time and mental energy to God, with the reward of inner peace.
But what of those who aren’t called to these particular prayer vocations? When there isn’t time, or a place, or the energy for a serious prayer discipline.
First, we are praying all the time without realizing it. When we ourselves have an intention to give our thoughts and emotions to God, then our humble and heartfelt silent words are prayers. Our concern and love for others, our simple trust, and our faith in God are enough.
Equally, we need to give up something we value to give up that time for prayer to God. A sacrifice, an offering, of time and focus. Ten minutes in the morning, fifteen minutes at night. Kneel, sit, or lie in bed with a prayer book. Give the time to God. Get to know God better, and God will change you.
10/12/2015
Beloved:
I am working these days on the necessaries of the Order – the Rule. Since the time of Benedict, religious orders have had formal Rules, a guideline for the life of those in community and communion. A promise is made to fidelity and faith, to God and to the Church, under a bishop and the head of the order, whether abbess or prior.
This is the ICCO, for clergy and dedicated lay people. There is a structure of service, from those who have education and a vocation to the sacraments and proclamation, through those leading groups in different capacities, with servant brothers and sisters called to a life managing the details and daily activities. All are important, all are beloved, all have work of equal importance in varying manners.
As we develop the Rule, and begin to recruit members who will soon give their binding promises, we need to make clear some expectations and interim rules. I am concerned that we maintain a reputation for fidelity and righteousness. We are all called to a life of regular prayer, obedience to God and the Church, and works of faith. We do not want to have a reputation, undeservedly, for being lax and hedonistic. As a new faith community, we must guard against the appearance of lawlessness.
First, we must practice faithfulness. We will hold to the commandments of Jesus who instructed us to love, give, and serve. He also called his followers to maintain God’s law. He fulfilled that divine law and did not invalidate it. So those who serve under the YOKE, either in the role of lay people or as dedicated religious, must remember the commandments that God gave us, and keep them holy.
Second, we are to honor the substance God has put into our hands as stewards. Take good care of the divine image that is each one of us, particularly. I call you to manage your bodily and mental health as the precious gift God gave you. A good diet, proper exercise, fulfilling employment, and restful recreation are necessities, not options.
Bad habits must be defeated. Those who now smoke tobacco are to work on cessation within three months from their dedication and initial promise of obedience. Excessive use of alcohol is another habit to be brought under control. Other personal habits that distract from dedication and attention to God’s will are to be addressed promptly.
Illegal practices and use of unprescribed controlled substances must cease immediately. If addiction is an issue, medical care is to be sought and followed diligently. Please do not put our reputation at risk by illicit behaviors.
If in an intimate relationship, fidelity to one’s partner is expected. Do not enter into intimacy with someone without much discussion and appropriate counseling. Once a commitment is made to another person, it is considered a binding promise and cannot be broken without permission from one’s superior. Promiscuity will be grounds for discipline, suspension of duties and possible dismissal. Any legally binding marital commitments are to be honored until such time as one’s superior agrees to the dissolution of that status.
As much as possible, members are to be self-supporting. Only in certain circumstances are members to rely on donations for their support. Those who lead churches may receive a salary and housing allowances if the congregation can afford such, and they are within a denomination where that has been practiced historically. Otherwise, we should attempt to work for our living. Members may receive pensions and unemployment compensation or employment insurance provided by the government or private investment. Members who are otherwise destitute may receive public assistance as needed, if their local church community is unable to maintain them for a short period of time. I would prefer that those who are unable to find work would look to obtaining education or relocate in order to find employment, as much as is reasonable.
Remember that communion and community have a shared source; be diligent not only in personal prayer, but in attending worship with others and receiving eucharist.
Beloved:
I am working these days on the necessaries of the Order – the Rule. Since the time of Benedict, religious orders have had formal Rules, a guideline for the life of those in community and communion. A promise is made to fidelity and faith, to God and to the Church, under a bishop and the head of the order, whether abbess or prior.
This is the ICCO, for clergy and dedicated lay people. There is a structure of service, from those who have education and a vocation to the sacraments and proclamation, through those leading groups in different capacities, with servant brothers and sisters called to a life managing the details and daily activities. All are important, all are beloved, all have work of equal importance in varying manners.
As we develop the Rule, and begin to recruit members who will soon give their binding promises, we need to make clear some expectations and interim rules. I am concerned that we maintain a reputation for fidelity and righteousness. We are all called to a life of regular prayer, obedience to God and the Church, and works of faith. We do not want to have a reputation, undeservedly, for being lax and hedonistic. As a new faith community, we must guard against the appearance of lawlessness.
First, we must practice faithfulness. We will hold to the commandments of Jesus who instructed us to love, give, and serve. He also called his followers to maintain God’s law. He fulfilled that divine law and did not invalidate it. So those who serve under the YOKE, either in the role of lay people or as dedicated religious, must remember the commandments that God gave us, and keep them holy.
Second, we are to honor the substance God has put into our hands as stewards. Take good care of the divine image that is each one of us, particularly. I call you to manage your bodily and mental health as the precious gift God gave you. A good diet, proper exercise, fulfilling employment, and restful recreation are necessities, not options.
Bad habits must be defeated. Those who now smoke tobacco are to work on cessation within three months from their dedication and initial promise of obedience. Excessive use of alcohol is another habit to be brought under control. Other personal habits that distract from dedication and attention to God’s will are to be addressed promptly.
Illegal practices and use of unprescribed controlled substances must cease immediately. If addiction is an issue, medical care is to be sought and followed diligently. Please do not put our reputation at risk by illicit behaviors.
If in an intimate relationship, fidelity to one’s partner is expected. Do not enter into intimacy with someone without much discussion and appropriate counseling. Once a commitment is made to another person, it is considered a binding promise and cannot be broken without permission from one’s superior. Promiscuity will be grounds for discipline, suspension of duties and possible dismissal. Any legally binding marital commitments are to be honored until such time as one’s superior agrees to the dissolution of that status.
As much as possible, members are to be self-supporting. Only in certain circumstances are members to rely on donations for their support. Those who lead churches may receive a salary and housing allowances if the congregation can afford such, and they are within a denomination where that has been practiced historically. Otherwise, we should attempt to work for our living. Members may receive pensions and unemployment compensation or employment insurance provided by the government or private investment. Members who are otherwise destitute may receive public assistance as needed, if their local church community is unable to maintain them for a short period of time. I would prefer that those who are unable to find work would look to obtaining education or relocate in order to find employment, as much as is reasonable.
Remember that communion and community have a shared source; be diligent not only in personal prayer, but in attending worship with others and receiving eucharist.
9/21/15
Beloved:
The seasons are changing. Here in the North, days and nights are colder. The hours of sunlight are fewer. Soon we will have snow and ice, after the autumn rains and the harvest. In the South, it is time for planting. The warm rains are coming. Our day to change the church season is St. Hildegard's festival day, September 17. For those in habit or Plain clothing, change from white to black or black to white, depending on whether it is spring or autumn for the location. It is time for the whole church to begin a new cycle of prayer and fasting. I call you once again to daily liturgical prayer (from a liturgy or cycle of written prayers.) Use Northumbria Community, Universalis (which is Roman) or the Book of Common Prayer (Anglican.) I give permission to those in established churches to use the liturgies of their own denomination.
It is time for a renewed call to fasting. Only Sundays and universal festivals are exempt from fasts. Local church festivals may be kept as exempt from fast days. Our fast days now through the beginning of Advent are Wednesdays and Fridays. Except for medical conditions and pregnancy, or in the case of young children, we will keep those days as days of minimal food consumption. No meat, dairy, fats, sugar or alcohol. Breakfast early on bread or simple cereals, no milk or butter. The evening meal is to be plain: beans, rice and vegetables or a reasonable substitute depending on location. Fasting days are from midnight to midnight, not dawn to dusk. Arrange your circumstances to accommodate this, rather than breaking the fast because of invitations to dine or traveling.
The reasons for fasting are three-fold: One, to discipline our appetites and bodies and to trust in the Lord to provide; two, to be in solidarity with our people who always are without adequate food and must keep a fasting diet constantly; three, to save money on buying food for those two days and to donate it to the YOKE for care of others, particularly those in East Africa who are caring for orphans, refugees and war victims.
So I am expecting that keeping the fast means that each of you will be able to send $25 a week to the YOKE donation center (paypal button on the page). We have so few doing that now that I am making up needed funds from my earnings. This has left me, at times, unable to pay bills on time and to forgo needed work clothes. Winter is coming soon, and I must travel to work on foot before dawn. Last winter, I had many days of potential harm doing so, from icy walkways and steps, to frostbite because I had inadequate winter clothing. (Yes, I had frostbite, which means my skin froze. Painful and with the potential to harm and scar.) I must buy better winter clothing this year as I cannot afford a car. Some of you must help us in providing care for people who have much less than I do. Please do not offer to send clothing or goods. Funds are what we need, and the only thing we can easily transfer to Africa.
Discipline is the foundation of dedicated religious life. We are disciplined - being taught - by our Rule. Follow Jesus Christ and His way, put some holy structure into your life, and grow from there.
Beloved:
The seasons are changing. Here in the North, days and nights are colder. The hours of sunlight are fewer. Soon we will have snow and ice, after the autumn rains and the harvest. In the South, it is time for planting. The warm rains are coming. Our day to change the church season is St. Hildegard's festival day, September 17. For those in habit or Plain clothing, change from white to black or black to white, depending on whether it is spring or autumn for the location. It is time for the whole church to begin a new cycle of prayer and fasting. I call you once again to daily liturgical prayer (from a liturgy or cycle of written prayers.) Use Northumbria Community, Universalis (which is Roman) or the Book of Common Prayer (Anglican.) I give permission to those in established churches to use the liturgies of their own denomination.
It is time for a renewed call to fasting. Only Sundays and universal festivals are exempt from fasts. Local church festivals may be kept as exempt from fast days. Our fast days now through the beginning of Advent are Wednesdays and Fridays. Except for medical conditions and pregnancy, or in the case of young children, we will keep those days as days of minimal food consumption. No meat, dairy, fats, sugar or alcohol. Breakfast early on bread or simple cereals, no milk or butter. The evening meal is to be plain: beans, rice and vegetables or a reasonable substitute depending on location. Fasting days are from midnight to midnight, not dawn to dusk. Arrange your circumstances to accommodate this, rather than breaking the fast because of invitations to dine or traveling.
The reasons for fasting are three-fold: One, to discipline our appetites and bodies and to trust in the Lord to provide; two, to be in solidarity with our people who always are without adequate food and must keep a fasting diet constantly; three, to save money on buying food for those two days and to donate it to the YOKE for care of others, particularly those in East Africa who are caring for orphans, refugees and war victims.
So I am expecting that keeping the fast means that each of you will be able to send $25 a week to the YOKE donation center (paypal button on the page). We have so few doing that now that I am making up needed funds from my earnings. This has left me, at times, unable to pay bills on time and to forgo needed work clothes. Winter is coming soon, and I must travel to work on foot before dawn. Last winter, I had many days of potential harm doing so, from icy walkways and steps, to frostbite because I had inadequate winter clothing. (Yes, I had frostbite, which means my skin froze. Painful and with the potential to harm and scar.) I must buy better winter clothing this year as I cannot afford a car. Some of you must help us in providing care for people who have much less than I do. Please do not offer to send clothing or goods. Funds are what we need, and the only thing we can easily transfer to Africa.
Discipline is the foundation of dedicated religious life. We are disciplined - being taught - by our Rule. Follow Jesus Christ and His way, put some holy structure into your life, and grow from there.
9/7/15
Beloved:
No matter where we are in the timeline that is church history, Christians are called to look back to the first century church for guidance. We have the examples of the later New Testament with us, in the Acts of the Apostles and the epistles. The early church made this point to all believers: Be prepared to work.
That means not just working for God, to preach, heal, minister and convert, but to work to support oneself and one’s family. Earnings were committed the church community in the early days of the faith; the surplus beyond living expenses went to care for those who could not survive on wages or those who were unable to work because of health or persecution.
Now, it is a good thing when we can support ministers and pastors from our own donations, and when we can provide for professional directors of our outreach and missions, but this is often not the case. Numbers of clergy who can be supported by churches have declined greatly in just ten years. Many of us who worked full-time for the church have lost those jobs. Donations within established churches have dropped significantly. There are many reasons for this, but the fact remains that we will not be able to reverse that trend in the next ten years.
St. Paul worked as a craftsman, either sewing tents or making the felt for them. Likely, he did this as an employee whenever he found himself in a place where he needed to stay for a while. Early church members continued to run businesses while they managed their local church. Everyone from government officials to servants joined the church and continued their employment, donating as much as they could.
I work as a cook in a big hotel. I work at least 40 hours a week, and often more. It is a busy place and it is difficult to keep kitchen help here. It is very hard work, but it something I do well, and I enjoy it. While I have to pay rent, buy food, and take care of my own needs, I am able to donate for the needs of others as well.
Like St. Paul, I could say, “See, I have a right for this church community to support me, but I am able to work and allow their funds to be used where the money is greatly needed.” In each YOKE community, we may be called to give up working as full time church employees, and take on a job outside the church. We may have to work part-time at each position. But in doing so, we will relieve the local community from supporting us, and we can allocate these funds to caring for the very poor, the sick, the orphans and the widowed.
Working in the outside community means we can witness as faithful Christians to others by the example of our hard work, our joy in Christ, and our dedication to our church. We will meet others who might never come our way otherwise. We will have additional funds to donate for the community needs, or the needs of our overseas partners.
Skills we learn on our jobs can be used later as we begin new community based businesses to support our churches and communal homes. Bakeries, sewing shops, gardens and other endeavours will happen as we acquire new abilities and certifications. God expects us to work cheerfully and with dedication in this world, while helping Him to build His Kingdom among the hearts of believers.
The Holy Father, Pope Francis, says, “Work is fundamental to the dignity of the person.”
Beloved:
No matter where we are in the timeline that is church history, Christians are called to look back to the first century church for guidance. We have the examples of the later New Testament with us, in the Acts of the Apostles and the epistles. The early church made this point to all believers: Be prepared to work.
That means not just working for God, to preach, heal, minister and convert, but to work to support oneself and one’s family. Earnings were committed the church community in the early days of the faith; the surplus beyond living expenses went to care for those who could not survive on wages or those who were unable to work because of health or persecution.
Now, it is a good thing when we can support ministers and pastors from our own donations, and when we can provide for professional directors of our outreach and missions, but this is often not the case. Numbers of clergy who can be supported by churches have declined greatly in just ten years. Many of us who worked full-time for the church have lost those jobs. Donations within established churches have dropped significantly. There are many reasons for this, but the fact remains that we will not be able to reverse that trend in the next ten years.
St. Paul worked as a craftsman, either sewing tents or making the felt for them. Likely, he did this as an employee whenever he found himself in a place where he needed to stay for a while. Early church members continued to run businesses while they managed their local church. Everyone from government officials to servants joined the church and continued their employment, donating as much as they could.
I work as a cook in a big hotel. I work at least 40 hours a week, and often more. It is a busy place and it is difficult to keep kitchen help here. It is very hard work, but it something I do well, and I enjoy it. While I have to pay rent, buy food, and take care of my own needs, I am able to donate for the needs of others as well.
Like St. Paul, I could say, “See, I have a right for this church community to support me, but I am able to work and allow their funds to be used where the money is greatly needed.” In each YOKE community, we may be called to give up working as full time church employees, and take on a job outside the church. We may have to work part-time at each position. But in doing so, we will relieve the local community from supporting us, and we can allocate these funds to caring for the very poor, the sick, the orphans and the widowed.
Working in the outside community means we can witness as faithful Christians to others by the example of our hard work, our joy in Christ, and our dedication to our church. We will meet others who might never come our way otherwise. We will have additional funds to donate for the community needs, or the needs of our overseas partners.
Skills we learn on our jobs can be used later as we begin new community based businesses to support our churches and communal homes. Bakeries, sewing shops, gardens and other endeavours will happen as we acquire new abilities and certifications. God expects us to work cheerfully and with dedication in this world, while helping Him to build His Kingdom among the hearts of believers.
The Holy Father, Pope Francis, says, “Work is fundamental to the dignity of the person.”
...But he answered, “You give them something to eat.”
MOTHERS PRAYER
My Beloved Father,
despite the great gifts You have placed in our hands,
we do not hold them in awe.
While you endue every molecule with wonder,
we act as if that is nothing,
a matter of no importance unless we can exploit and turn that holy matter to our own selfish purposes.
Father, you have given us enough and abundance to care for all your children and creatures,
yet we hoard it,
hide it,
destroy it and at the same time worship it in twisted,
unholy ways.
We are idolmakers rather than God-seekers,
looking in mirrors for a glimpse of the supposed divine of our own images instead of looking to heaven for a reflection of the holy on earth.
Simply,
Father,
teach our hands to work for the poor You have blessed into our midst.
Lift our hearts to your sacred heart,
make us one flesh with You.
Open these eyes to the wonder and beauty of all creation,
even that which we have not learned to appreciate, to value.
Forgive our sins and selfishness.
Forgive our idolatry,
and turn us around to see your Light.
Amen.
My Beloved Father,
despite the great gifts You have placed in our hands,
we do not hold them in awe.
While you endue every molecule with wonder,
we act as if that is nothing,
a matter of no importance unless we can exploit and turn that holy matter to our own selfish purposes.
Father, you have given us enough and abundance to care for all your children and creatures,
yet we hoard it,
hide it,
destroy it and at the same time worship it in twisted,
unholy ways.
We are idolmakers rather than God-seekers,
looking in mirrors for a glimpse of the supposed divine of our own images instead of looking to heaven for a reflection of the holy on earth.
Simply,
Father,
teach our hands to work for the poor You have blessed into our midst.
Lift our hearts to your sacred heart,
make us one flesh with You.
Open these eyes to the wonder and beauty of all creation,
even that which we have not learned to appreciate, to value.
Forgive our sins and selfishness.
Forgive our idolatry,
and turn us around to see your Light.
Amen.
Father,
Give us hearts of forgiveness. Give us hands of generosity. Give us minds that are open to hearing Your Word in lives of others around us.
Make us open-hearted, ever-ready to do Your will. Make us happy in Your will, finding joy in the work before us.
Help us to see the love with which You have made Your creation, and how Christ is all around us in those who bear His image. Teach us to live in peace, in mutual care, in souls free of the curse of greed and self-regard.
Give us Your eyes to see injustice, and the will to change it.
Amen
Beloved Reverend Mother Julia Grace Armstrong MDiv.
Father,
Give us hearts of forgiveness. Give us hands of generosity. Give us minds that are open to hearing Your Word in lives of others around us.
Make us open-hearted, ever-ready to do Your will. Make us happy in Your will, finding joy in the work before us.
Help us to see the love with which You have made Your creation, and how Christ is all around us in those who bear His image. Teach us to live in peace, in mutual care, in souls free of the curse of greed and self-regard.
Give us Your eyes to see injustice, and the will to change it.
Amen
Give us hearts of forgiveness. Give us hands of generosity. Give us minds that are open to hearing Your Word in lives of others around us.
Make us open-hearted, ever-ready to do Your will. Make us happy in Your will, finding joy in the work before us.
Help us to see the love with which You have made Your creation, and how Christ is all around us in those who bear His image. Teach us to live in peace, in mutual care, in souls free of the curse of greed and self-regard.
Give us Your eyes to see injustice, and the will to change it.
Amen
Beloved Reverend Mother Julia Grace Armstrong on Hickory Hill
Beloved:
It is a perfect late spring day in Iowa City. The air is dry, a little cool, the sky blue, the trees leafed out in vivid green. The shadows of the branches are sharp on the grey tree trunks and ripple across the long grass in the yard. Late spring in the Midwest is a lot like late summer in northern Maine, the place I call home.
Have you ever dreamed of heaven? I did, when I was young. Heaven is, in my dreams, a summer meadow in the subarctic, hedged with birch and fir, with a river running through it. The breeze is just warm, bordering on cool. The earth smells of sweetgrass, and is soft under bare feet. In the distance, a piper is playing, and a Man waits in the shade of the trees, dressed in white robes, His arms open for the expected embrace. Heaven is home, and if our deepest memory of home is a forest, or a beach, or a mountain meadow, that will be our dream of heaven.
All of the natural world is a sacramental gift from God. While we receive the concentration of that sacrament in the bread and wine of communion, those elements are both sign and symbol of all of creation, and the restoration to perfection God has called into being, and called into becoming. We are part of this, to be restored, and to assist in the restoration.
When we are wasteful of creation, we are breaking sacramentality with God. The earth itself is sacred, blessed by God’s purpose. The sky and space are sacred, called out of nothing to be in the divine Word of God. The intricate and marvelous web of life on the planet is a microcosm of the Creator, sacred to the very being of that Creator. Each human is sacred, an image of the divine.
The carelessness and callousness of exploitation are blasphemies. The earth, water and sky were not made to be polluted, stripped and exhausted. Every atom and molecule ever created falls from God’s hand, an integral element in God’s plan for the universe. Humanity is not the master of that creation; the Creator is. The devastation around us is a deep wound in the heart of God.
There is not a drop of water, a grain if wheat, a sip of wine that belongs to any of us. Creation is the rightful property of the Creator, not the beings God has made.
All that we have before us, under our feet, and above us, is on loan. It is the talent placed in our stewardship, and we have so badly misused it that it is worse than having buried it in the ground in a foolish attempt to save it. Instead, we have melted it, alloyed it with base metal, and cut it into false coin. Worse than the fearful servant, we have been devious and greedy.
The consequence of opposing God – sin – is death. The consequence of sin against creation is the death of species, integrated ecology, susceptible people, and entire cultures. Every poisoned river, every clearcut forest, every polluted field is a nail in the body of Jesus Christ. He died to forgive our sins, and yet we continue to nail Him to the cross.
We certainly know what to do. And we don’t do it. A thousand, a million excuses. The only lasting solution is to sacrifice our greed, our pride, our need for status and luxury. The only solution is repentance, personal and corporate, and a complete turning away from sin.
The Church is as guilty as everyone else in this, complicit with culture and worldly government. Councils, priest and bishops worry about the loss of donations if they criticize society, but the church, the bride of Christ, is to stand at His right hand, and speak in agreement with His mind. The mind of Christ does not make allowances for destruction, damage and death. He defeated all those, and His people are not to turn back to those old idols.
I can’t even say, “Start in small things,” because it is too late for that. It will take radical action to restore nature and humanity. If it is not done soon, there will be little left of God’s creation when our Lord returns. We will be called to judgment for those sins, each of us, and all of us. Each destroyed ecology, every animal or tree or plant that died in our muck and pollution, every child that died of malnutrition while others feasted will stand as witnesses against us.
Christ will return. What will we have to return to His hands? An increase in spiritual riches and natural blessings, or a desecrated gift from the sacred treasure?
Live in peace, follow the Way of Christ.
Mother +Julia
It is a perfect late spring day in Iowa City. The air is dry, a little cool, the sky blue, the trees leafed out in vivid green. The shadows of the branches are sharp on the grey tree trunks and ripple across the long grass in the yard. Late spring in the Midwest is a lot like late summer in northern Maine, the place I call home.
Have you ever dreamed of heaven? I did, when I was young. Heaven is, in my dreams, a summer meadow in the subarctic, hedged with birch and fir, with a river running through it. The breeze is just warm, bordering on cool. The earth smells of sweetgrass, and is soft under bare feet. In the distance, a piper is playing, and a Man waits in the shade of the trees, dressed in white robes, His arms open for the expected embrace. Heaven is home, and if our deepest memory of home is a forest, or a beach, or a mountain meadow, that will be our dream of heaven.
All of the natural world is a sacramental gift from God. While we receive the concentration of that sacrament in the bread and wine of communion, those elements are both sign and symbol of all of creation, and the restoration to perfection God has called into being, and called into becoming. We are part of this, to be restored, and to assist in the restoration.
When we are wasteful of creation, we are breaking sacramentality with God. The earth itself is sacred, blessed by God’s purpose. The sky and space are sacred, called out of nothing to be in the divine Word of God. The intricate and marvelous web of life on the planet is a microcosm of the Creator, sacred to the very being of that Creator. Each human is sacred, an image of the divine.
The carelessness and callousness of exploitation are blasphemies. The earth, water and sky were not made to be polluted, stripped and exhausted. Every atom and molecule ever created falls from God’s hand, an integral element in God’s plan for the universe. Humanity is not the master of that creation; the Creator is. The devastation around us is a deep wound in the heart of God.
There is not a drop of water, a grain if wheat, a sip of wine that belongs to any of us. Creation is the rightful property of the Creator, not the beings God has made.
All that we have before us, under our feet, and above us, is on loan. It is the talent placed in our stewardship, and we have so badly misused it that it is worse than having buried it in the ground in a foolish attempt to save it. Instead, we have melted it, alloyed it with base metal, and cut it into false coin. Worse than the fearful servant, we have been devious and greedy.
The consequence of opposing God – sin – is death. The consequence of sin against creation is the death of species, integrated ecology, susceptible people, and entire cultures. Every poisoned river, every clearcut forest, every polluted field is a nail in the body of Jesus Christ. He died to forgive our sins, and yet we continue to nail Him to the cross.
We certainly know what to do. And we don’t do it. A thousand, a million excuses. The only lasting solution is to sacrifice our greed, our pride, our need for status and luxury. The only solution is repentance, personal and corporate, and a complete turning away from sin.
The Church is as guilty as everyone else in this, complicit with culture and worldly government. Councils, priest and bishops worry about the loss of donations if they criticize society, but the church, the bride of Christ, is to stand at His right hand, and speak in agreement with His mind. The mind of Christ does not make allowances for destruction, damage and death. He defeated all those, and His people are not to turn back to those old idols.
I can’t even say, “Start in small things,” because it is too late for that. It will take radical action to restore nature and humanity. If it is not done soon, there will be little left of God’s creation when our Lord returns. We will be called to judgment for those sins, each of us, and all of us. Each destroyed ecology, every animal or tree or plant that died in our muck and pollution, every child that died of malnutrition while others feasted will stand as witnesses against us.
Christ will return. What will we have to return to His hands? An increase in spiritual riches and natural blessings, or a desecrated gift from the sacred treasure?
Live in peace, follow the Way of Christ.
Mother +Julia
Sister Sus and the BRM at the Amish General Store
YOKE Pentecost Mother’s Letter 2015
Beloved:
Our dear Sister Sus stayed with us for a couple of days, enroute to visit family in the north. We have known each other for several years online, and just had the opportunity to meet in real life. So many shared interests, and so many common experiences, from working in the transportation industry, to homesteading.
She got to meet Poppy – Father Larry Woodsmall – and spend time with him, learning about the YOKE. It was a wonderful experience, full of trust and love, prayer and epiphanies. She is, by nature and God’s help, one of us.
I had to think of the ancient theology of hospitality, the welcoming of the stranger or friend into the home. We live in a culture of distrust, of quid pro quo, of value exchange. What is the value of housing, feeding and loving someone who is not required to pay anything? And isn’t that the Way of Christ – to give all, even to those we do not know, or do not yet know?
Hospitality is derived from the Latin “hospes”, related to the word “host,” which can mean guest, stranger, and enemy. The perceived enemy transforms to the noble guest; an old definition for hospitality is “the virtue of a great soul that cares for the whole universe through the ties of humanity.” (Jaucourt, Louis)
I was brought up with legends and stories of Irish and Scottish hospitality, part of the cultural contract of people who live in harsh, primitive environments. Taking in the wayfarer and offering not just shelter and food but peace and protection was a social requirement. Someday the weather-beset traveler might be oneself.
So hospitality comes more easily to me than it might be for more modern people, who see their home as an inviolable space, not only a stalwart defense against harm, but an impregnable fortress against all outsiders. I have noticed that younger people rarely have guests in their homes as a matter of course. They meet in neutral places such as coffee shops, malls and pubs to socialize. I’m not sure they would understand a theology of hospitality.
Jesus and the Apostles lived on hospitality. They moved from town to town, sheltering in upper rooms, on roof tops, in courtyards, meeting, talking, teaching. They were fed a common meal by their hosts, or pooled their money to buy food to share mutually. Jesus’s miracles of feeding thousands from small portions of fish and bread are the basis of the theology of hospitality, although that is firmly rooted in the hospitality of Abraham, who sheltered and fed God (or God’s angels) under the oaks of Mamre.
There is the peculiar story in the Gospel of John, chapter 21, after the resurrection of Christ. The disciples have gone back to their old employment, fishing, and they see Jesus on the shore in the morning. He has built a small fire and grilled fish over it for them to eat. Even as He is manifested as the Messiah, the One who has died and defeated death, bringing new life into the broken creation, He has met the very real and simple need of those He loves.
Christian hospitality is a sacred vocation. All Christians are called to it. It is not a complicated calling. It is merely sharing what one has with one who needs. It is as simple as sharing bread and tea, while providing a place to sleep for the traveler, the friend, the stranger.
'Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.' (Hebrews 13.2)
The gift of hospitality we received from Sister Sus was trust and love. And that would be more than enough, these holy gifts. She has also dedicated herself to a life of ministry, as a servant of our Lord Jesus Christ. Her spiritual beauty shone in her face and voice. We have welcomed an angel.
Beloved:
Our dear Sister Sus stayed with us for a couple of days, enroute to visit family in the north. We have known each other for several years online, and just had the opportunity to meet in real life. So many shared interests, and so many common experiences, from working in the transportation industry, to homesteading.
She got to meet Poppy – Father Larry Woodsmall – and spend time with him, learning about the YOKE. It was a wonderful experience, full of trust and love, prayer and epiphanies. She is, by nature and God’s help, one of us.
I had to think of the ancient theology of hospitality, the welcoming of the stranger or friend into the home. We live in a culture of distrust, of quid pro quo, of value exchange. What is the value of housing, feeding and loving someone who is not required to pay anything? And isn’t that the Way of Christ – to give all, even to those we do not know, or do not yet know?
Hospitality is derived from the Latin “hospes”, related to the word “host,” which can mean guest, stranger, and enemy. The perceived enemy transforms to the noble guest; an old definition for hospitality is “the virtue of a great soul that cares for the whole universe through the ties of humanity.” (Jaucourt, Louis)
I was brought up with legends and stories of Irish and Scottish hospitality, part of the cultural contract of people who live in harsh, primitive environments. Taking in the wayfarer and offering not just shelter and food but peace and protection was a social requirement. Someday the weather-beset traveler might be oneself.
So hospitality comes more easily to me than it might be for more modern people, who see their home as an inviolable space, not only a stalwart defense against harm, but an impregnable fortress against all outsiders. I have noticed that younger people rarely have guests in their homes as a matter of course. They meet in neutral places such as coffee shops, malls and pubs to socialize. I’m not sure they would understand a theology of hospitality.
Jesus and the Apostles lived on hospitality. They moved from town to town, sheltering in upper rooms, on roof tops, in courtyards, meeting, talking, teaching. They were fed a common meal by their hosts, or pooled their money to buy food to share mutually. Jesus’s miracles of feeding thousands from small portions of fish and bread are the basis of the theology of hospitality, although that is firmly rooted in the hospitality of Abraham, who sheltered and fed God (or God’s angels) under the oaks of Mamre.
There is the peculiar story in the Gospel of John, chapter 21, after the resurrection of Christ. The disciples have gone back to their old employment, fishing, and they see Jesus on the shore in the morning. He has built a small fire and grilled fish over it for them to eat. Even as He is manifested as the Messiah, the One who has died and defeated death, bringing new life into the broken creation, He has met the very real and simple need of those He loves.
Christian hospitality is a sacred vocation. All Christians are called to it. It is not a complicated calling. It is merely sharing what one has with one who needs. It is as simple as sharing bread and tea, while providing a place to sleep for the traveler, the friend, the stranger.
'Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.' (Hebrews 13.2)
The gift of hospitality we received from Sister Sus was trust and love. And that would be more than enough, these holy gifts. She has also dedicated herself to a life of ministry, as a servant of our Lord Jesus Christ. Her spiritual beauty shone in her face and voice. We have welcomed an angel.
YOKE May 31 2015 Mother’s letter
Beloved:
I am not a very important person. I work in a low income job, live in a sparse, old apartment, and don’t own a car. I am not well known for any reason at all. The talents I have are modest in scope, and rather obscure. There’s not much need in this world for a theologian, shepherd, haiku poet or artist. I can cook, sing, play the bodhran, shear sheep, and draw. My writing is not particularly focused or profound.
Yet, for some reason of His own, the Lord has sent people to me. I must think they are desperate to be heard by someone, anyone, who might be sympathetic and be able to help in a small way. And my ways are of the smallest. I have no money and no possessions. I have no influence with anyone, anywhere, at any time. No one can expect great achievements from me.
Except God. God expects great efforts and achievements. The first great work is devotion, and surrender. I am called to give up my whole self to Him whom I love above all else. The second great work is prayer, that I am called to be always in prayer, my spirit and my mind turned to Him who made me. The third great work is action, carefully employing my talents and skills to profit Him in this world.
So it is that the YOKE was called to begin works in places we have never been, but where we know there is unimaginable need. Every day, children go hungry, cry for fear in dangerous surroundings, and look to a future without education or safety. This breaks my heart. It should break yours. And God does not call us to turn away, to offer but a half-muttered prayer that someone will help. As Jesus was called in surrender and obedience to His Father to give up everything, including His life, so we are called, too. Nothing less than that.
Of first priority right now for the YOKE and ICCO is our mission in Kisii, Kenya. Brother James and his family – his wife, Stellar, and their little daughter, Julie Armstrong (yes, she has my name) – are leading a church and mission that cares for and educates 83 orphaned children outside Nairobi. They live in unsettled conditions, susceptible to illness and malnutrition. James sometimes has to ask us to quickly send a few dollars so that they can buy food for the children while waiting for their earnings to be realized. The children are housed in various homes and apartments, which is an additional expense. They have a school, but they very much need to build a compound to house the children and their caregivers. They have land, and the means to make bricks, which they now sell. We have sent seeds and books to them, and we are trying to get Heifer International to help them with farm animals and instruction. Their goal is to be self-sustaining, educate these children, and give them a safe home.
We cannot do this on our own meager funds. I work in a job that pays below poverty level. I get by because I have minimized my needs. Last month, I did not buy groceries for weeks. I bought some food to share with a visitor toward the end of the month, and Poppy (Father Larry Woodsmall) and I bought some food items to share between us. That having been done, I will attempt to get through the month of June with what I have in the house – dried beans rice, flour, a few stored vegetables, some stock in my freezer. My work hours were cut this week and next because of lack of customers. I will need to plan well to make sure I can pay my rent and bills. Poppy has a disability pension, out of which he has to provide for his living expenses, a shared vehicle, and his medical expenses not covered by insurance. We do without many things that most Americans take for granted.
Our second mission priority is working with Disciples Church of India, to help them build a home and school for abandoned, orphaned and casteless children who will otherwise never get a safe place to live, or an education, if they survive. This is planned for the northern states of India, an area beset by earthquakes, volatile weather, and harsh economic conditions. The Disciples Church is joining the YOKE, as we work out the mechanisms and agreements needed. It is the biggest project I have ever undertaken personally, and much bigger than anything the YOKE has encompassed, so far. We hope to bring the archbishop of the churches here on a speaking tour this fall, to help raise money. Some of you will hear more from the YOKE on that matter! Be ready!
Our third priority is to establish a YOKE community house and farm in the USA. So far, we are looking at the Amish settlement of Kalona, Iowa and its environs. We have not a clue where the money will come from, except that as people express interest in living a new monastic life that will include couples and families, they will be called to participate economically as well as spiritually. Poppy wants to stay close to his roots and his family; I need a farm that is set in rolling hills and woodland. Really, I need that, as I need water and sun. I am not a flatlander. Mountains, hills, valleys and forests are my native habitat.
Are YOU called to work with us in these endeavors? Everyone is called to a vocation of God’s choosing. Perhaps yours is with us. Answer that call. It will persist until you do. Your mind will be restless, your heart troubled. Say yes to God. Don't expect it to be easy. An easy and comfortable life does not make a saint.
Beloved:
I am not a very important person. I work in a low income job, live in a sparse, old apartment, and don’t own a car. I am not well known for any reason at all. The talents I have are modest in scope, and rather obscure. There’s not much need in this world for a theologian, shepherd, haiku poet or artist. I can cook, sing, play the bodhran, shear sheep, and draw. My writing is not particularly focused or profound.
Yet, for some reason of His own, the Lord has sent people to me. I must think they are desperate to be heard by someone, anyone, who might be sympathetic and be able to help in a small way. And my ways are of the smallest. I have no money and no possessions. I have no influence with anyone, anywhere, at any time. No one can expect great achievements from me.
Except God. God expects great efforts and achievements. The first great work is devotion, and surrender. I am called to give up my whole self to Him whom I love above all else. The second great work is prayer, that I am called to be always in prayer, my spirit and my mind turned to Him who made me. The third great work is action, carefully employing my talents and skills to profit Him in this world.
So it is that the YOKE was called to begin works in places we have never been, but where we know there is unimaginable need. Every day, children go hungry, cry for fear in dangerous surroundings, and look to a future without education or safety. This breaks my heart. It should break yours. And God does not call us to turn away, to offer but a half-muttered prayer that someone will help. As Jesus was called in surrender and obedience to His Father to give up everything, including His life, so we are called, too. Nothing less than that.
Of first priority right now for the YOKE and ICCO is our mission in Kisii, Kenya. Brother James and his family – his wife, Stellar, and their little daughter, Julie Armstrong (yes, she has my name) – are leading a church and mission that cares for and educates 83 orphaned children outside Nairobi. They live in unsettled conditions, susceptible to illness and malnutrition. James sometimes has to ask us to quickly send a few dollars so that they can buy food for the children while waiting for their earnings to be realized. The children are housed in various homes and apartments, which is an additional expense. They have a school, but they very much need to build a compound to house the children and their caregivers. They have land, and the means to make bricks, which they now sell. We have sent seeds and books to them, and we are trying to get Heifer International to help them with farm animals and instruction. Their goal is to be self-sustaining, educate these children, and give them a safe home.
We cannot do this on our own meager funds. I work in a job that pays below poverty level. I get by because I have minimized my needs. Last month, I did not buy groceries for weeks. I bought some food to share with a visitor toward the end of the month, and Poppy (Father Larry Woodsmall) and I bought some food items to share between us. That having been done, I will attempt to get through the month of June with what I have in the house – dried beans rice, flour, a few stored vegetables, some stock in my freezer. My work hours were cut this week and next because of lack of customers. I will need to plan well to make sure I can pay my rent and bills. Poppy has a disability pension, out of which he has to provide for his living expenses, a shared vehicle, and his medical expenses not covered by insurance. We do without many things that most Americans take for granted.
Our second mission priority is working with Disciples Church of India, to help them build a home and school for abandoned, orphaned and casteless children who will otherwise never get a safe place to live, or an education, if they survive. This is planned for the northern states of India, an area beset by earthquakes, volatile weather, and harsh economic conditions. The Disciples Church is joining the YOKE, as we work out the mechanisms and agreements needed. It is the biggest project I have ever undertaken personally, and much bigger than anything the YOKE has encompassed, so far. We hope to bring the archbishop of the churches here on a speaking tour this fall, to help raise money. Some of you will hear more from the YOKE on that matter! Be ready!
Our third priority is to establish a YOKE community house and farm in the USA. So far, we are looking at the Amish settlement of Kalona, Iowa and its environs. We have not a clue where the money will come from, except that as people express interest in living a new monastic life that will include couples and families, they will be called to participate economically as well as spiritually. Poppy wants to stay close to his roots and his family; I need a farm that is set in rolling hills and woodland. Really, I need that, as I need water and sun. I am not a flatlander. Mountains, hills, valleys and forests are my native habitat.
Are YOU called to work with us in these endeavors? Everyone is called to a vocation of God’s choosing. Perhaps yours is with us. Answer that call. It will persist until you do. Your mind will be restless, your heart troubled. Say yes to God. Don't expect it to be easy. An easy and comfortable life does not make a saint.
A Sense of Place 06/28/15
I left the mountains of western New Brunswick three years ago. Most of my time in Canada, over ten years, was in that general area. My family roots were there, although my youth was spent across the border in Maine. My bones were built out of the granite spine of the northern Appalachians. The cold, deep, dangerous St. John River flows in my veins.
It is a wild and treacherous place to live. In a subarctic climate, all seasons have their sudden hazards of storm and flood.
I am deeply bonded with that land, from the boreal forests to the salt coast of downeast Maine.
I live in central Iowa now, on the edge of the prairie, not far from the Mississippi River. All I knew of the Mississippi in my childhood was Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi, about his days as a steamboat pilot. All I knew of the prairies was from Laura Ingalls Wilder. My Scots-Irish family had struck out from homes on the rocky coasts of their islands, and they landed on rocky coasts and stayed there. Water, wood and dirt were what they knew, and they kept at the old work until the 20th century.
As children, we heard traveling preachers and evangelists talk about heaven and streets of gold, of the City of God, where we would have mansions and riches unimaginable, especially fantastical to hardscrabble northern farmers who fretted over every purchase of a new tractor. I remember sitting in the hard wooden pews of the Baptist Church on a Saturday evening and feeling a deep disappointment. Why would I want to leave the quiet green cathedrals of the spruce forest for barren urban canyons of marble and gold? I had never seen marble, except as tiny pieces set in old furniture, and gold was the thin strand of a cheap wedding ring. I had no cultural context for riches of precious metals and jewels. My spiritual heart was the wild blue sky, the verdant hills, the freedom of an old tote road between woods and fields.
It was much later that I encountered the theology of creation, that God really did not intend us to dwell eternally in sterile streets of cold marble. God intends to redeem all that God has made, from the minutest club moss to the most intense star in the heavens above. And what a tremendous sense of relief that was – all the nature that I loved, that furnished my soul, would be lifted to its best possible existence, along with the people (and animals) I have loved so deeply. Deep is the right word here – love and worship and awe, filling the soul as fully as it can be, until it is breathed out and shared.
Pope Francis has written eloquently and competently about this relation between God, Creation, and Humanity in the Encyclical Letter “Laudato Si.” (http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html).
He opens the letter with this:
““LAUDATO SI’, mi’ Signore” – “Praise be to you, my Lord”. In the words of this beautiful canticle, Saint Francis of Assisi reminds us that our common home is like a sister with whom we share our life and a beautiful mother who opens her arms to embrace us. “Praise be to you, my Lord, through our Sister, Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us, and who produces various fruit with coloured flowers and herbs”.[1]
2. This sister now cries out to us because of the harm we have inflicted on her by our irresponsible use and abuse of the goods with which God has endowed her. We have come to see ourselves as her lords and masters, entitled to plunder her at will. The violence present in our hearts, wounded by sin, is also reflected in the symptoms of sickness evident in the soil, in the water, in the air and in all forms of life. This is why the earth herself, burdened and laid waste, is among the most abandoned and maltreated of our poor; she “groans in travail” (Rom 8:22). We have forgotten that we ourselves are dust of the earth (cf. Gen 2:7); our very bodies are made up of her elements, we breathe her air and we receive life and refreshment from her waters.
Nothing in this world is indifferent to us.”
A harmonious life in the natural world is primal. It is what we are, what God called us to do, first of all. Adam and Eve walked with God in the great garden. Jesus, as Man and Savior, walked the roads and hills of Galilee, a certain place in a certain time. He sailed its waters, gathered its fruits, stood out in its rain, pillowed his weary head on its sands. He sat on the grass and drank from the springs. A real God in a real place, rooted deeply there, calling out to its great city.
To our contemporaries, the land is a commodity. We buy and sell it, turn it into a factory for food, or tear it apart for its bones and blood. We literally trample this great creation under our feet.
It was a gift from God that I received a spiritual kinship with my native land. Even in exile, in a climate I do not understand and that is a hardship on my body and mind, I still have the boreal uplands in my heart. I belong to a corner of heaven. It cannot be taken from me. It is God’s promise of my redemption, and creation’s restoration.
I left the mountains of western New Brunswick three years ago. Most of my time in Canada, over ten years, was in that general area. My family roots were there, although my youth was spent across the border in Maine. My bones were built out of the granite spine of the northern Appalachians. The cold, deep, dangerous St. John River flows in my veins.
It is a wild and treacherous place to live. In a subarctic climate, all seasons have their sudden hazards of storm and flood.
I am deeply bonded with that land, from the boreal forests to the salt coast of downeast Maine.
I live in central Iowa now, on the edge of the prairie, not far from the Mississippi River. All I knew of the Mississippi in my childhood was Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi, about his days as a steamboat pilot. All I knew of the prairies was from Laura Ingalls Wilder. My Scots-Irish family had struck out from homes on the rocky coasts of their islands, and they landed on rocky coasts and stayed there. Water, wood and dirt were what they knew, and they kept at the old work until the 20th century.
As children, we heard traveling preachers and evangelists talk about heaven and streets of gold, of the City of God, where we would have mansions and riches unimaginable, especially fantastical to hardscrabble northern farmers who fretted over every purchase of a new tractor. I remember sitting in the hard wooden pews of the Baptist Church on a Saturday evening and feeling a deep disappointment. Why would I want to leave the quiet green cathedrals of the spruce forest for barren urban canyons of marble and gold? I had never seen marble, except as tiny pieces set in old furniture, and gold was the thin strand of a cheap wedding ring. I had no cultural context for riches of precious metals and jewels. My spiritual heart was the wild blue sky, the verdant hills, the freedom of an old tote road between woods and fields.
It was much later that I encountered the theology of creation, that God really did not intend us to dwell eternally in sterile streets of cold marble. God intends to redeem all that God has made, from the minutest club moss to the most intense star in the heavens above. And what a tremendous sense of relief that was – all the nature that I loved, that furnished my soul, would be lifted to its best possible existence, along with the people (and animals) I have loved so deeply. Deep is the right word here – love and worship and awe, filling the soul as fully as it can be, until it is breathed out and shared.
Pope Francis has written eloquently and competently about this relation between God, Creation, and Humanity in the Encyclical Letter “Laudato Si.” (http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html).
He opens the letter with this:
““LAUDATO SI’, mi’ Signore” – “Praise be to you, my Lord”. In the words of this beautiful canticle, Saint Francis of Assisi reminds us that our common home is like a sister with whom we share our life and a beautiful mother who opens her arms to embrace us. “Praise be to you, my Lord, through our Sister, Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us, and who produces various fruit with coloured flowers and herbs”.[1]
2. This sister now cries out to us because of the harm we have inflicted on her by our irresponsible use and abuse of the goods with which God has endowed her. We have come to see ourselves as her lords and masters, entitled to plunder her at will. The violence present in our hearts, wounded by sin, is also reflected in the symptoms of sickness evident in the soil, in the water, in the air and in all forms of life. This is why the earth herself, burdened and laid waste, is among the most abandoned and maltreated of our poor; she “groans in travail” (Rom 8:22). We have forgotten that we ourselves are dust of the earth (cf. Gen 2:7); our very bodies are made up of her elements, we breathe her air and we receive life and refreshment from her waters.
Nothing in this world is indifferent to us.”
A harmonious life in the natural world is primal. It is what we are, what God called us to do, first of all. Adam and Eve walked with God in the great garden. Jesus, as Man and Savior, walked the roads and hills of Galilee, a certain place in a certain time. He sailed its waters, gathered its fruits, stood out in its rain, pillowed his weary head on its sands. He sat on the grass and drank from the springs. A real God in a real place, rooted deeply there, calling out to its great city.
To our contemporaries, the land is a commodity. We buy and sell it, turn it into a factory for food, or tear it apart for its bones and blood. We literally trample this great creation under our feet.
It was a gift from God that I received a spiritual kinship with my native land. Even in exile, in a climate I do not understand and that is a hardship on my body and mind, I still have the boreal uplands in my heart. I belong to a corner of heaven. It cannot be taken from me. It is God’s promise of my redemption, and creation’s restoration.
7/5/15
Beloved:
I do not enjoy Midwestern summers. It is hot, humid, and the wind is uncertain. Violent storms and tornadoes will descend on us like a preview of the apocalypse. When summer approached here, I was given solemn instructions on what to do if there was a tornado warning. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, run to the basement.
I love mountains and oceans. I love the boreal forest. I did not know how much I would miss the sea when I could no longer drive a couple of hours to visit the beaches and shores. I am in Iowa: mostly flat, a bit hilly in spots, and fresh water that could possibly have poisonous snakes swimming in it.
I have heard of worlds like this.
So today Poppy and I went to the riverside park for prayer and song. Mostly it was a long meditation on rivers and water, on baptism, danger, and a longing to be free. I thought of Amos and Tekoa, and his God-imposed exile of preaching in Shiloh. We talked about Mark Twain and river rafts, and freedom that can cost someone his life. We talked about the River Jordan and John the Baptist, birds, dragonflies, damsel flies (one lighted upon my dress) and fishing. Swimming. Canoes and john boats. Catamarans and deep water sailing. We mentioned Jonah.
Water is, physically, what we mostly are. We are immersed in it most of the time, in the ambient air. We need to partake of it often. We are an ocean surrounded by a river.
“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”
From the beginning there was water. God called everything that is out of that early primal ocean.
As we sat on the bank of the river, our feet in the water, we talked about pollution. About flotsam, about contamination. Runoff. Not just the result of torrents and washouts, but the actual damage humans do to the very lifeblood of the planet. If we are virtual oceans ourselves, giving and taking with the great waters that God made, why are we so blatant about fouling them? Essentially, we inject ourselves with poison every time we release a harmful substance on the earth.
I don’t need to enumerate the ways humans have broken the earth, or made their own drinking water impossible to ingest safely. We seem to have a self-loathing that leads us to cripple and maim ourselves and others. We defy God and the sanctity of holy creation with our crazy behavior, and then we lie to God and ourselves by insisting that there is nothing wrong.
Are we tired of the excuses yet, the excuses for damaging humanity and all of earth in the name of profit and pleasure? Are we ready to admit that much of what we do is motivated by greed and hate rather than love and humility?
This is what real love would do: Commit a large amount of public funds to cleaning up polluted water, and find ways to prevent more pollution; provide clean water to everyone on earth; scour the oceans of the hell that is the dead wasteland of the maritime trash vortices (the Great Pacific Garbage Patch being the best known); protect marine mammals from harm and hunting; restore fishing stocks; prevent overbuilding on marshlands, river frontage and coastlines. That would be love in action. That would be honoring the Creator and the Creation. That would be the supreme act of obedience to the joy of baptism.
We have intellectualized our spirituality to the point where we see the souls as something ephemeral, something waiting for the next world. But God put us in real bodies, made us earthy as well as heavenly. Yet we do not tread carefully and reverently on the very work of God under our feet, or pouring through our hands. How astonishing it is that God has put us in this incredible natural cathedral called nature! What lamp could equal the sun, what candles could rival the stars? Was any architectural splendor as great as a forest, any baptismal font as pure and rejuvenating as the ocean?
We are proud of our churches; we should not be. Churches are places to gather, places to house art and music and ceremony. All that is good. But very good is creation itself. Take your church outdoors soon, all of you – not as an excuse to avoid church but to be church. Every space God made is sacred.
Beloved:
I do not enjoy Midwestern summers. It is hot, humid, and the wind is uncertain. Violent storms and tornadoes will descend on us like a preview of the apocalypse. When summer approached here, I was given solemn instructions on what to do if there was a tornado warning. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, run to the basement.
I love mountains and oceans. I love the boreal forest. I did not know how much I would miss the sea when I could no longer drive a couple of hours to visit the beaches and shores. I am in Iowa: mostly flat, a bit hilly in spots, and fresh water that could possibly have poisonous snakes swimming in it.
I have heard of worlds like this.
So today Poppy and I went to the riverside park for prayer and song. Mostly it was a long meditation on rivers and water, on baptism, danger, and a longing to be free. I thought of Amos and Tekoa, and his God-imposed exile of preaching in Shiloh. We talked about Mark Twain and river rafts, and freedom that can cost someone his life. We talked about the River Jordan and John the Baptist, birds, dragonflies, damsel flies (one lighted upon my dress) and fishing. Swimming. Canoes and john boats. Catamarans and deep water sailing. We mentioned Jonah.
Water is, physically, what we mostly are. We are immersed in it most of the time, in the ambient air. We need to partake of it often. We are an ocean surrounded by a river.
“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”
From the beginning there was water. God called everything that is out of that early primal ocean.
As we sat on the bank of the river, our feet in the water, we talked about pollution. About flotsam, about contamination. Runoff. Not just the result of torrents and washouts, but the actual damage humans do to the very lifeblood of the planet. If we are virtual oceans ourselves, giving and taking with the great waters that God made, why are we so blatant about fouling them? Essentially, we inject ourselves with poison every time we release a harmful substance on the earth.
I don’t need to enumerate the ways humans have broken the earth, or made their own drinking water impossible to ingest safely. We seem to have a self-loathing that leads us to cripple and maim ourselves and others. We defy God and the sanctity of holy creation with our crazy behavior, and then we lie to God and ourselves by insisting that there is nothing wrong.
Are we tired of the excuses yet, the excuses for damaging humanity and all of earth in the name of profit and pleasure? Are we ready to admit that much of what we do is motivated by greed and hate rather than love and humility?
This is what real love would do: Commit a large amount of public funds to cleaning up polluted water, and find ways to prevent more pollution; provide clean water to everyone on earth; scour the oceans of the hell that is the dead wasteland of the maritime trash vortices (the Great Pacific Garbage Patch being the best known); protect marine mammals from harm and hunting; restore fishing stocks; prevent overbuilding on marshlands, river frontage and coastlines. That would be love in action. That would be honoring the Creator and the Creation. That would be the supreme act of obedience to the joy of baptism.
We have intellectualized our spirituality to the point where we see the souls as something ephemeral, something waiting for the next world. But God put us in real bodies, made us earthy as well as heavenly. Yet we do not tread carefully and reverently on the very work of God under our feet, or pouring through our hands. How astonishing it is that God has put us in this incredible natural cathedral called nature! What lamp could equal the sun, what candles could rival the stars? Was any architectural splendor as great as a forest, any baptismal font as pure and rejuvenating as the ocean?
We are proud of our churches; we should not be. Churches are places to gather, places to house art and music and ceremony. All that is good. But very good is creation itself. Take your church outdoors soon, all of you – not as an excuse to avoid church but to be church. Every space God made is sacred.
7/12/15
Westerners have a myth of success that has more power in it than any other story we tell each other. Good people succeed. Good people deserve to succeed. We measure success by the level of comfort and ease in our daily lives, in the number of our possessions, and in the acclaim of other good people.
Good is a relative term to most of us. Jesus answered, with quick words, the person who called Him “good,” as if He was some model citizen or orthodox temple goer: “Who are you calling good? Only God is good!” Jesus was not accepting a status quo definition of “good.” To Jesus, good was an absolute.
Rather than thinking, “Do my neighbors think I am good? Do they admire me and envy me?”, Jesus calls us to the hard job of following his way, the way of the cross. That will, most likely, mean giving up the respect and envy of the neighbors. The neighbors are going to think us foolish, a bit mad, and destructive of the system. To really follow Jesus, to realize as much as we can the way that is “good,” we will have to give up the status quo.
Our good life of ease and success is at the cost of many others, including those who are followers of Christ. We value a sense of security in the West, and we are told that we have to spend huge amounts of money on the military to keep us secure. We look to defense contractors – or maybe we should call them death contractors – to provide jobs, although the amount of employment netted in ratio to the money budgeted seems entirely in favor of the owners of the companies. Our governments, elected by the people, allocate obscene piles of money for weapons of destruction rather than spending even a fraction of that amount on instruments of peace. Contracts for tanks and jet fighters, not contracts for water treatment facilities and schools. We are much more ready to kill people than to save them.
At home, we squander God’s resources proving how successful we are in this world, consuming natural resources and energy for our cars, entertainment, recreation and food. Not basic good food, either, grown in our own yards and acreage, but luxuries of processing and transportation. Our culture is more likely to fly strawberries from Chile than to transport a child in need of surgery to an adequate hospital.
Do I need to go on? Yes, every decision made in the Western world to consume beyond needs costs someone elsewhere the very basics of life.
When one of our pastors in Africa became dangerously ill with malaria and cholera, Father Larry asked him about their source of water. “We get it from the river in buckets, and we boil it.” At the same time, we know they are chronically short of firewood. Water has to be boiled for ten minutes to kill all possible contaminants; a full boil for ten minutes, as well as the time it takes to get it to that boil. Cholera is an illness of crowded conditions, mostly eradicated in Western nations. When I worked in Central America for the church, we were sent there with vaccines and medications to prevent illness. My white self was more valuable, apparently, than the brown residents of the countries where I traveled; they did not have access to these basic medications.
So while their children die of dysentery and malaria, we send their armies weapons and station soldiers among them, just to make dying even easier. While we lament low test scores in our schools, and a lack of ambition among the young people, their children do not have any schools, or the schools they have lack desks, chairs, books, and teachers.
Westerners have a myth of success that has more power in it than any other story we tell each other. Good people succeed. Good people deserve to succeed. We measure success by the level of comfort and ease in our daily lives, in the number of our possessions, and in the acclaim of other good people.
Good is a relative term to most of us. Jesus answered, with quick words, the person who called Him “good,” as if He was some model citizen or orthodox temple goer: “Who are you calling good? Only God is good!” Jesus was not accepting a status quo definition of “good.” To Jesus, good was an absolute.
Rather than thinking, “Do my neighbors think I am good? Do they admire me and envy me?”, Jesus calls us to the hard job of following his way, the way of the cross. That will, most likely, mean giving up the respect and envy of the neighbors. The neighbors are going to think us foolish, a bit mad, and destructive of the system. To really follow Jesus, to realize as much as we can the way that is “good,” we will have to give up the status quo.
Our good life of ease and success is at the cost of many others, including those who are followers of Christ. We value a sense of security in the West, and we are told that we have to spend huge amounts of money on the military to keep us secure. We look to defense contractors – or maybe we should call them death contractors – to provide jobs, although the amount of employment netted in ratio to the money budgeted seems entirely in favor of the owners of the companies. Our governments, elected by the people, allocate obscene piles of money for weapons of destruction rather than spending even a fraction of that amount on instruments of peace. Contracts for tanks and jet fighters, not contracts for water treatment facilities and schools. We are much more ready to kill people than to save them.
At home, we squander God’s resources proving how successful we are in this world, consuming natural resources and energy for our cars, entertainment, recreation and food. Not basic good food, either, grown in our own yards and acreage, but luxuries of processing and transportation. Our culture is more likely to fly strawberries from Chile than to transport a child in need of surgery to an adequate hospital.
Do I need to go on? Yes, every decision made in the Western world to consume beyond needs costs someone elsewhere the very basics of life.
When one of our pastors in Africa became dangerously ill with malaria and cholera, Father Larry asked him about their source of water. “We get it from the river in buckets, and we boil it.” At the same time, we know they are chronically short of firewood. Water has to be boiled for ten minutes to kill all possible contaminants; a full boil for ten minutes, as well as the time it takes to get it to that boil. Cholera is an illness of crowded conditions, mostly eradicated in Western nations. When I worked in Central America for the church, we were sent there with vaccines and medications to prevent illness. My white self was more valuable, apparently, than the brown residents of the countries where I traveled; they did not have access to these basic medications.
So while their children die of dysentery and malaria, we send their armies weapons and station soldiers among them, just to make dying even easier. While we lament low test scores in our schools, and a lack of ambition among the young people, their children do not have any schools, or the schools they have lack desks, chairs, books, and teachers.
7/28/15
I always wanted a big family.
I came from a big family – five sisters, no brothers. Big families were normal, even expected in our community. It was considered a tragedy to have a small family, even if that was all you wanted. People didn’t quite get it. Not that we didn’t envy friends who were only children or in families of less than baseball team size. A room of one’s own was a distant dream. Even uninterrupted telephone time was cherished, back when we all had a single wall phone in the home, and party lines.
I have two sons, now men in their 30s. I cherish them in a way I could love no other people, because of that “heart of my heart” lifelong commitment. And God did not bless me with any other children of my own body, as much as I longed for that. My pregnancies were tempestuous, and my doctor recommended a tubal ligation when I was young.
My sisters’ families are scattered around the country. I don’t think we have all been together in 20 years. Modern life has done that to many families, and the close knit community of decades and centuries past is shattered by circumstance.
Then God blessed me with an even bigger family. All Christians, certainly, can count all other Christians, and even all humanity and all of Creation, as “family,” all having been made by the same Father. The local church, the extended church, the church on earth today, and the church of the communion of saints are all part of the huge family God has given us. The Church is the next order of Christian family beyond the faithful home.
Uniquely, as Mother of the YOKE and abbatial presence of ICCO (if abbacy can be a Thing, at least practically), I have been blessed with a really big family. People, and especially children, throughout the world know me as “Mother.” Mother, Mama, Ma, Mum and Bishop. Bishop, in my experience and usage, isn’t usually a word of affection and close relationship. When I have used the title “Bishop” to address someone, it has been in a formal dialogue, and might have been said through clenched teeth.
It is a mighty gift from God to be addressed as “Bishop” in the same way one is called “Mother.” It speaks of the nurturing, healthy relationship God intends for mutuality in human righteousness. I oversee the community and its assets; I answer a thousand questions and offer support and comfort. I hope I am a good Mother in the new “Israel” by giving the offspring – God’s own children – enough freedom so that they can grow into being their own persons. Equally, I hope that I have the Spirit-led wisdom to gently call back and correct as required.
There is no mold all members of the YOKE must fit. Even the religious order, ICCO, has plenty room for its members to grow into stronger, healthier, livelier Christians. We are becoming little Christs, ambassadors of the Great Kingdom of God.
We may have our struggles – meeting the needs of daily bread, quite literally, is principal. Even if you cannot help people materially, you can always lift up prayer for them. Even if your thoughts are scattered and anxious, you can offer your restless mind before God and receive His peace.
This is a long journey – one of our beloved brothers in Africa bears that name, Safari – and God did not send as solitary pilgrims. Like Jesus and the disciples, like Paul and his companions, we are fellow travelers on our way Home.
I always wanted a big family.
I came from a big family – five sisters, no brothers. Big families were normal, even expected in our community. It was considered a tragedy to have a small family, even if that was all you wanted. People didn’t quite get it. Not that we didn’t envy friends who were only children or in families of less than baseball team size. A room of one’s own was a distant dream. Even uninterrupted telephone time was cherished, back when we all had a single wall phone in the home, and party lines.
I have two sons, now men in their 30s. I cherish them in a way I could love no other people, because of that “heart of my heart” lifelong commitment. And God did not bless me with any other children of my own body, as much as I longed for that. My pregnancies were tempestuous, and my doctor recommended a tubal ligation when I was young.
My sisters’ families are scattered around the country. I don’t think we have all been together in 20 years. Modern life has done that to many families, and the close knit community of decades and centuries past is shattered by circumstance.
Then God blessed me with an even bigger family. All Christians, certainly, can count all other Christians, and even all humanity and all of Creation, as “family,” all having been made by the same Father. The local church, the extended church, the church on earth today, and the church of the communion of saints are all part of the huge family God has given us. The Church is the next order of Christian family beyond the faithful home.
Uniquely, as Mother of the YOKE and abbatial presence of ICCO (if abbacy can be a Thing, at least practically), I have been blessed with a really big family. People, and especially children, throughout the world know me as “Mother.” Mother, Mama, Ma, Mum and Bishop. Bishop, in my experience and usage, isn’t usually a word of affection and close relationship. When I have used the title “Bishop” to address someone, it has been in a formal dialogue, and might have been said through clenched teeth.
It is a mighty gift from God to be addressed as “Bishop” in the same way one is called “Mother.” It speaks of the nurturing, healthy relationship God intends for mutuality in human righteousness. I oversee the community and its assets; I answer a thousand questions and offer support and comfort. I hope I am a good Mother in the new “Israel” by giving the offspring – God’s own children – enough freedom so that they can grow into being their own persons. Equally, I hope that I have the Spirit-led wisdom to gently call back and correct as required.
There is no mold all members of the YOKE must fit. Even the religious order, ICCO, has plenty room for its members to grow into stronger, healthier, livelier Christians. We are becoming little Christs, ambassadors of the Great Kingdom of God.
We may have our struggles – meeting the needs of daily bread, quite literally, is principal. Even if you cannot help people materially, you can always lift up prayer for them. Even if your thoughts are scattered and anxious, you can offer your restless mind before God and receive His peace.
This is a long journey – one of our beloved brothers in Africa bears that name, Safari – and God did not send as solitary pilgrims. Like Jesus and the disciples, like Paul and his companions, we are fellow travelers on our way Home.
8/03/15
I have been immersed in the writings of the medieval German mystic and theologian Hildegard of Bingen for about a month now, working on an article for the next YOKE Quarterly. Hildegard was an abbess, writer and healer, dedicated to monastic life since childhood. She was the tithe of the family, the tenth child, and obviously intelligent and gifted at an early age. She was sent for education to the holy recluse Jutta, and took Jutta’s place at the head of the monastery after the older woman’s death.
Hildegard is considered to be a mystic, as well, experiencing holy visions that opened up new ways to portray the relationship between Creator and creation. This influenced her healing work, as well. She was famous as a healer, and her skills brought in people from far beyond the monastery’s walls.
She was an artist and a composer, writing music for the monastics to chant in the choir offices. Her work fell from favor and was largely misplaced until recent years, and her writings and music are enjoying a revival. Some of that comes from the enthusiasms of New Age practitioners and mystics, who believe they have found a revolutionary from the middle ages, a woman who defied the system.
This is certainly not true of Hildegard. She exercised her gifts within the structure of the Church that nurtured her and had given her a high degree of freedom to follow her creative vocation. Noble women who married and lived in secular households were expected to put their energy and ability to use as estate managers, mothers, and wives. These secular women risked their lives in childbirth. The monastic life gave women of gifts a place to explore and disseminate their creative efforts without being tied down to the child-bed and nursery.
Hildegard, despite her accomplishments and renown, often referred to herself as “weak and uneducated.” Women were considered physically less hardy than men, and Hildegard did suffer from serious long-term illnesses. It was a social convention for women to make excuses for presenting their intellectual work. Hildegard – and all well-read women of her age – were always educated privately. They did not have the opportunity to travel to cathedrals and major monasteries where they could have studied under scholars in a classical sense. When Hildegard said, “I am uneducated,” it was much as the Old Testament prophet Amos said, “I am not a prophet, nor the son of a prophet.”
And as Amos can’t be truly understood outside the context of Biblical prophecy, Hildegard cannot be truly understood outside the context of the medieval church in Europe. The Word of God was at the gleaming center of her philosophy. The Word was the source of the Creation she explored in botany, medicine, art and music. She cannot be legitimately claimed in any spirituality that is not Christocentric. She was not heretical or unorthodox. Her only major clash with authority was when she allowed the funeral mass said for a man who had been previously excommunicated. She did not excuse this action by defying the legality of the excommunication, but by asserting that the person had repented, confessed, and had been readmitted to communion. She would stand up for what was right, but only in the context of the Church.
I don’t mean to disappoint anyone who has come to love Hildegard’s work. I am not trying to belittle her accomplishments. Still, there is a modern idea that the best work must exist in defiance of some convention. Hildegard had already defied a convention, that she should marry and raise a family with some staid Freiherr. She put on Jutta’s mantle as abbess (a role once equivalent to bishop) and used the office as fully as she could. She split the monastery in half, taking the nuns to a separate convent, which caused her bishop some consternation and exasperation, as it also took their dowries with them. Her personal reasons for doing this are not known; she was within rights to do so. She may have found the responsibility of a double monastery to be too much of a headache, or she may have suspected that the work of the men would always overshadow that of the women. There may have been other, earthier reasons involved, perhaps to protect the women from exploitation.
Like all saints, Hildegard was amazingly individual, a unique personality who found her God-given talents focused more brilliantly through the lens of faith.
I have been immersed in the writings of the medieval German mystic and theologian Hildegard of Bingen for about a month now, working on an article for the next YOKE Quarterly. Hildegard was an abbess, writer and healer, dedicated to monastic life since childhood. She was the tithe of the family, the tenth child, and obviously intelligent and gifted at an early age. She was sent for education to the holy recluse Jutta, and took Jutta’s place at the head of the monastery after the older woman’s death.
Hildegard is considered to be a mystic, as well, experiencing holy visions that opened up new ways to portray the relationship between Creator and creation. This influenced her healing work, as well. She was famous as a healer, and her skills brought in people from far beyond the monastery’s walls.
She was an artist and a composer, writing music for the monastics to chant in the choir offices. Her work fell from favor and was largely misplaced until recent years, and her writings and music are enjoying a revival. Some of that comes from the enthusiasms of New Age practitioners and mystics, who believe they have found a revolutionary from the middle ages, a woman who defied the system.
This is certainly not true of Hildegard. She exercised her gifts within the structure of the Church that nurtured her and had given her a high degree of freedom to follow her creative vocation. Noble women who married and lived in secular households were expected to put their energy and ability to use as estate managers, mothers, and wives. These secular women risked their lives in childbirth. The monastic life gave women of gifts a place to explore and disseminate their creative efforts without being tied down to the child-bed and nursery.
Hildegard, despite her accomplishments and renown, often referred to herself as “weak and uneducated.” Women were considered physically less hardy than men, and Hildegard did suffer from serious long-term illnesses. It was a social convention for women to make excuses for presenting their intellectual work. Hildegard – and all well-read women of her age – were always educated privately. They did not have the opportunity to travel to cathedrals and major monasteries where they could have studied under scholars in a classical sense. When Hildegard said, “I am uneducated,” it was much as the Old Testament prophet Amos said, “I am not a prophet, nor the son of a prophet.”
And as Amos can’t be truly understood outside the context of Biblical prophecy, Hildegard cannot be truly understood outside the context of the medieval church in Europe. The Word of God was at the gleaming center of her philosophy. The Word was the source of the Creation she explored in botany, medicine, art and music. She cannot be legitimately claimed in any spirituality that is not Christocentric. She was not heretical or unorthodox. Her only major clash with authority was when she allowed the funeral mass said for a man who had been previously excommunicated. She did not excuse this action by defying the legality of the excommunication, but by asserting that the person had repented, confessed, and had been readmitted to communion. She would stand up for what was right, but only in the context of the Church.
I don’t mean to disappoint anyone who has come to love Hildegard’s work. I am not trying to belittle her accomplishments. Still, there is a modern idea that the best work must exist in defiance of some convention. Hildegard had already defied a convention, that she should marry and raise a family with some staid Freiherr. She put on Jutta’s mantle as abbess (a role once equivalent to bishop) and used the office as fully as she could. She split the monastery in half, taking the nuns to a separate convent, which caused her bishop some consternation and exasperation, as it also took their dowries with them. Her personal reasons for doing this are not known; she was within rights to do so. She may have found the responsibility of a double monastery to be too much of a headache, or she may have suspected that the work of the men would always overshadow that of the women. There may have been other, earthier reasons involved, perhaps to protect the women from exploitation.
Like all saints, Hildegard was amazingly individual, a unique personality who found her God-given talents focused more brilliantly through the lens of faith.
A Letter from Mother+
8/17/15
Beloved:
If there is one argument in which Christians cannot take a worldly stance it is on the value of human life. Simply, every human being is an icon of God. We are “little Christs.” We are made in His image. God endowed us with reason, emotion, and compassion. We are admonished to live out a life that is modeled on that of Jesus Christ. This is also how we are made in His image, working with God day by day to fulfill the plan for His Kingdom.
Jesus went willingly to His death, a death that defeated death itself. He could have called down legions of angels, commanded armies of the most powerful created beings in heaven and earth. And yet He didn’t. He meekly put out His hands and was led away, a lamb to the slaughter. He was meeker and more patient than any sheep going to the abattoir; he did not kick against the goads.
In every other case where His life was threatened He slipped away quietly. He never fought anyone, never carried a weapon. When He told the apostles, just before His trial, that they would need a sword, He did not mean an edged steel weapon; He meant the gospel He had given them. Their only weapon was the power of the Word of God, with the help of the Holy Spirit. All the apostles went to martyrdom, only St. John surviving miraculously after an execution attempt. The first martyr, St. Stephen, stood before his accusers and spoke in the Spirit. As he collapsed under the attack, he cried out that he could see Jesus coming for him. His witness of peace was rewarded with the greatest vision anyone can experience.
Christians are not to be armed. Our Savior lived on earth as a man of peace. He healed and did not harm. He brought the dead to life; He did not take life away. Anyone who is walking His path has to follow the same way. It is not His way if we are insistent on cutting a new road. Jesus said to Peter in the garden, as the soldiers came to arrest Him: "Put your sword away! Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me?"
All Christians are called to be martyrs. We are all called to drink that cup. No one gets out of here alive. If we are called to witness by a sudden death, we had best do it with a prayer of surrender on our lips. While a worldly judge might dismiss a case against us for taking a life in self-defense, God may not, and we can instead expect a stern judgment: “Did I not say you were to put your sword away?”
Christians are called to be fearless for the faith. God tells us that He is with us always, even in the worst possible times. His strength will carry us through. If we face death, His love is with us, no matter what the outcome. Be faithful in all things, for God is faithful through all things.
8/17/15
Beloved:
If there is one argument in which Christians cannot take a worldly stance it is on the value of human life. Simply, every human being is an icon of God. We are “little Christs.” We are made in His image. God endowed us with reason, emotion, and compassion. We are admonished to live out a life that is modeled on that of Jesus Christ. This is also how we are made in His image, working with God day by day to fulfill the plan for His Kingdom.
Jesus went willingly to His death, a death that defeated death itself. He could have called down legions of angels, commanded armies of the most powerful created beings in heaven and earth. And yet He didn’t. He meekly put out His hands and was led away, a lamb to the slaughter. He was meeker and more patient than any sheep going to the abattoir; he did not kick against the goads.
In every other case where His life was threatened He slipped away quietly. He never fought anyone, never carried a weapon. When He told the apostles, just before His trial, that they would need a sword, He did not mean an edged steel weapon; He meant the gospel He had given them. Their only weapon was the power of the Word of God, with the help of the Holy Spirit. All the apostles went to martyrdom, only St. John surviving miraculously after an execution attempt. The first martyr, St. Stephen, stood before his accusers and spoke in the Spirit. As he collapsed under the attack, he cried out that he could see Jesus coming for him. His witness of peace was rewarded with the greatest vision anyone can experience.
Christians are not to be armed. Our Savior lived on earth as a man of peace. He healed and did not harm. He brought the dead to life; He did not take life away. Anyone who is walking His path has to follow the same way. It is not His way if we are insistent on cutting a new road. Jesus said to Peter in the garden, as the soldiers came to arrest Him: "Put your sword away! Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me?"
All Christians are called to be martyrs. We are all called to drink that cup. No one gets out of here alive. If we are called to witness by a sudden death, we had best do it with a prayer of surrender on our lips. While a worldly judge might dismiss a case against us for taking a life in self-defense, God may not, and we can instead expect a stern judgment: “Did I not say you were to put your sword away?”
Christians are called to be fearless for the faith. God tells us that He is with us always, even in the worst possible times. His strength will carry us through. If we face death, His love is with us, no matter what the outcome. Be faithful in all things, for God is faithful through all things.
