God said to him, "As for me, this is my covenant with you: You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you. ...As for Sarah your wife, you shall not call her Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name." Genesis 17
What does it mean to have a name? To be named? My mother tells me that I was either going to be Laura, Molly or Sarah. And when I made my grand entrance onto this earth, it was abundantly clear I was a Sarah. I don't know how she and my father knew--it just seemed the right name.
God changes the names of Sarai and Abram, giving them new names, Sarah and Abraham, to mark their new relationship, the covenant that they have with God and the promise that they will become the parents of a multitude of nations. The gift of our names may not come with the promise that we will become the parents of multitudes of nations, but they do come with hope and promise. Parents name their children and with it the promise of care, of nurture. As we baptize, we say "____(name), I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." Naming is the first part of the water-bath of baptism. Monks and nuns sometimes take a new name when they enter the order. There are other naming traditions as well--any that come to mind for you?
What is the story of your name? Is your name an important part of your identity? For you parents out there, how did you decide on the name you chose for your child?
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Wade in the Water
In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." (From the first chapter of the Gospel of Mark)
We heard much of this reading just a few weeks ago at the Baptism of Christ. And here, less than 2 months later, we have it again. The authors of our lectionary point us to baptism, which is always a good thing. It's got me wondering about what baptism means in our lives today. What does it mean to be "buried with Christ in his death...[and to] share in his resurrection**"?
I don't remember my baptism, but I sometimes think of it when I meet Ed, my favorite pan handler. I struggle with what it means to live into Jesus' call to care for the poor and my own conflicting ideas about handing out cash on the street. I think about it when I watch the news and feel the simultaneous ache and callousness of my heart at the daily reportings of gun violence that lead to far too many deaths of children on the streets of Chicago. I think about it when I wonder how the conflict in the land I so love, Israel/Palestine, will ever come to a peaceful end. What does my baptism mean in these contexts? What am I called to do? How do I trust God, how do I trust the waters of baptism in the midst of conflict and struggle?
So my question, dear friends, this day is about baptism. What does your baptism mean to you? How do you (or do you) live out your baptism every day? And what, if anything, do you remember of your baptism?
**Book of Common Prayer p. 306
We heard much of this reading just a few weeks ago at the Baptism of Christ. And here, less than 2 months later, we have it again. The authors of our lectionary point us to baptism, which is always a good thing. It's got me wondering about what baptism means in our lives today. What does it mean to be "buried with Christ in his death...[and to] share in his resurrection**"?
I don't remember my baptism, but I sometimes think of it when I meet Ed, my favorite pan handler. I struggle with what it means to live into Jesus' call to care for the poor and my own conflicting ideas about handing out cash on the street. I think about it when I watch the news and feel the simultaneous ache and callousness of my heart at the daily reportings of gun violence that lead to far too many deaths of children on the streets of Chicago. I think about it when I wonder how the conflict in the land I so love, Israel/Palestine, will ever come to a peaceful end. What does my baptism mean in these contexts? What am I called to do? How do I trust God, how do I trust the waters of baptism in the midst of conflict and struggle?
So my question, dear friends, this day is about baptism. What does your baptism mean to you? How do you (or do you) live out your baptism every day? And what, if anything, do you remember of your baptism?
**Book of Common Prayer p. 306
What should I give up for Lent?
One of my dearest friends, quite a foodie, pulled me aside last week and said: "I want to give up alcohol for Lent, but I'm going to Charlie Trotters and want a wine flight with my meal. I mean, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Is that okay?" It's that time of year. We ponder which Lenten discipline seems best for us. The question has been a buzz on Facebook this week--what should I give up for Lent? One friend posted: "Contemplating giving up Coke Zero for Lent. (That translates into my entire caffeine and carbonated beverage intake as well.) Discuss..." My favorite of the responses she received was this: "Will it make you a more loving person?"
Over the years I've given things up and taken things on. In recent years, many folks I know have given up Facebook for Lent, given up swearing, added in exercise, given up meat. Giving up chocolate and alcohol seem to also be common and profound choices. Every year I toy with giving up coffee, but I truly think it would make me so unpleasant to be around that you would all insist on my taking it back up. I'm clear it would NOT make me a more loving person.
On Ash Wednesday we are invited to mark a holy Lent by observing "a season of penitence and fasting"*. Giving something up or denying ourselves of something we love for the season of Lent is one way to do that. Far more than "dieting for Jesus,"**Lenten denials invite us to be present to the things we take for granted--the ease with which we reach for food or coffee or soda, the mindlessness that can draw us away from God and each other as we find ourselves overly attached to our computers and phones, and to ponder what is for which we truly hunger and thirst.
Over the years I've given things up and taken things on. In recent years, many folks I know have given up Facebook for Lent, given up swearing, added in exercise, given up meat. Giving up chocolate and alcohol seem to also be common and profound choices. Every year I toy with giving up coffee, but I truly think it would make me so unpleasant to be around that you would all insist on my taking it back up. I'm clear it would NOT make me a more loving person.
On Ash Wednesday we are invited to mark a holy Lent by observing "a season of penitence and fasting"*. Giving something up or denying ourselves of something we love for the season of Lent is one way to do that. Far more than "dieting for Jesus,"**Lenten denials invite us to be present to the things we take for granted--the ease with which we reach for food or coffee or soda, the mindlessness that can draw us away from God and each other as we find ourselves overly attached to our computers and phones, and to ponder what is for which we truly hunger and thirst.
As we enter this holy season, I hope that you will find a discipline that will lead not so much to feeling trapped or deprived, as welcoming a new holy habit, and creating space to hear where God is calling and leading--things which may well be born from the space of denial and fasting. Will the Lenten discipline you choose make you a more loving person? Will it help you recognize the face of Jesus in those you meet on the street corners and in the grocery store? And finally, what, if anything, are you giving up for Lent? The comment section is open and would love to hear from you!
*Book of Common Prayer, p. 264-265
**Sarah being snarky
*Book of Common Prayer, p. 264-265
**Sarah being snarky
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
A Lenten Experiment
Welcome to From Broadway and Belmont--The Blog. This hope for this space is to have a place for reflection. For the season of Lent, I will be posting a weekly reflection. These may be based on the lectionary (the Scripture read on Sundays in Church), or may just be Lenten reflections. They will be brief and in no way a polished essay or sermon, but rather, some thoughts and questions for you and me to nibble on throughout the week as we prepare for Sunday.
You'll also notice a header called "Book Study." For Lent, I'm going to read The Rev. Dr. Lauren Winner's book Still: Notes on a Mid-Faith Crisis. I invite you to read it with me. Each day I'll post some questions for reflection and thought. We'll try our hand at a "cyber-book study" by chatting with each other in the comments section.
Peace & all good,
Sarah+
You'll also notice a header called "Book Study." For Lent, I'm going to read The Rev. Dr. Lauren Winner's book Still: Notes on a Mid-Faith Crisis. I invite you to read it with me. Each day I'll post some questions for reflection and thought. We'll try our hand at a "cyber-book study" by chatting with each other in the comments section.
Peace & all good,
Sarah+
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)