At the Bush that Kept Burning

Exodus 3:1-15 – The 12th Sunday of Ordinary Time – for Sunday, August 31, 2014

“But Moses said to God, Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” (Exodus 3:11)

After Moses was raised in luxury within the house of pharaoh, after he attacked and murdered an Egyptian, after he secretly buried the body in the sand, after he was frightened for his life, after he became a fugitive from justice, after he hid in a faraway country, after he strong-armed some shepherds and flexed his muscles for seven frightened (but impressed) women, after he was married and touted as a hero even as he continued to live a lie, Moses had a life-changing “and yet” moment.

burning-bush1A bush burned and yet was not consumed.

After the Creator, the One above all others, the One given many names and without a name had created the world, after calling Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, after declaring those who would be the chosen people, after triumphant glory and troubling disappointments from those God created, after the time of Joseph and abundance, after forgetting the creation, after the years and decades and generations of slavery and oppression that the chosen experienced, the Creator had a divine and decisive “and yet” moment.

A bush burned and yet was not consumed.

And yet.

That simple phrase informs my understanding of how God works. For me, “and yet” is a reminder that “there’s more to come, more to learn and more to be surprised by.”* Each week, as with these musings on the encounter in the wilderness between God and Moses, I find a way to work “and yet” into my Biblical wonderings. It’s a gimmick. It’s my so-called (laugh out loud here) brand. Sometimes, when revising an essay, I’ll discover I didn’t use it in the first draft! When that happens, I’ll make sure to find a spot to put it into a sentence. In other words, the two-word conjunction wasn’t crucial for conveying my message, but I felt I had to try to force it in.

That’s the burden of gimmicks. Continue reading →

5 Cover Stories: Pick Me!

I’d love to have input for a book cover.

After culling through pictures from backpacks, I identified five that might work for my next collection of essays. The self-published book will be entitled “Another Companion for the Journey: 40 Reflections (and Questions) on Faith.”

Though the words inside a book are the important part, covers matter. If a reader knows an author, the cover serves as a “welcome back” greeting. If a reader has never heard about the author, the same cover represents a “let’s get to know each other” invitation.

Here are the 5. What would be your top 2 choices?

If you have an extra moment, let me know why . . .

Photo #1
Photo #1










Continue reading →

A Flawed, Curious, Hopeful, Forgiving Human

Luke 16:1-13  – The 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time  – for Sunday, September 22, 2013

“There was a rich man who had a manager…” (Luke 16:1)

There is one parable

More than any of Jesus’ stories

That befuddles

Intrigues and frightens me.

I don’t know why it troubles me so

(And yet I do)

Go ahead, those more wise, experienced and confident than me, tell me what this parable only found at Luke 16:1-9 means . . .

Then Jesus said to the disciples, ‘There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. (2) So he summoned him and said to him, “What is this that I hear about you? Give me an account of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.” (3) Then the manager said to himself, “What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. (4) I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.” (5) So, summoning his master’s debtors one by one, he asked the first, “How much do you owe my master?” (6) He answered, “A hundred jugs of olive oil.” He said to him, “Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.” (7) Then he asked another, “And how much do you owe?” He replied, “A hundred containers of wheat.” He said to him, “Take your bill and make it eighty.” (8) And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. (9) And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.

BreechBefore I answer what I possibly think believe the parable means, let me explain a few interpretive decisions regarding this irksome and enlightened tale.

  • I posted this parable. I usually assume you can look up the Biblical chapters and sentences on your own, but I wanted easy access to Luke’s words.
  • However, I only included part of the parable. If you wish to read the absent verses (10-13 in Luke’s 16th chapter), feel free! For me, those verses were add-ons inspired by the early Christian community’s efforts to sugarcoat Jesus’ story. It’s as if they were tsk-tsking, wagging a finger and urging followers to serve God rather than gold. How simplistic and misleading.
  • When I began posting weekly reflections in June ‘07, I privately vowed to avoid reading the scholarly tomes about the Bible that crowd my bookshelves. I also vowed to avoid other like-minded blogs by Internet colleagues, whether ne’er-do-wells like me or respected theologians. I didn’t want others to influence my musings or to unknowingly “steal” ideas. Weird, eh? But I’ve occasionally ignored my silly vow . . . like now. I read again James Breech’s chapter on Luke 16:1-13 in his extraordinary The Silence of Jesus, published way, way, way back in 1983. Much of my thoughts regarding this parable can be attributed to Breech. Like me, he may also be wrong about everything. But his insights on Jesus’ parables transformed my faith.

*           *           *

This is what is frequently suggested for comprehending Jesus’ tale: be shrewd and decisive in your faith like the manager!

Oh, you mean the conniving, cheating, self-serving, it’s-not-my-fault manager? Nope, not me, please.

Breech suggested this . . .

“…the narrative focuses on the issue of trust: the rich man is not primarily concerned about his possessions, but about the steward whom he has entrusted to be responsible for them.”

And this . . . Continue reading →