Betrayal

 

I must confess: Sometimes when I read a devotional passage, I skip the scripture verses and go straight to what today’s writer has to say about the passage. I know I shouldn’t do this. I know that I should let scripture speak for itself, and yet oftentimes I don’t…and I have a feeling I’m not the only one—especially when the text is familiar—like the Passion Story.

 

I make my confession to say this: Please don’t skip the scripture passage below. Please read its words and let thoughts and phrases jump out at you before you read this writer’s thoughts. As we walk Jesus’ journey toward the cross this week, may we each experience exactly what we need to experience…for ourselves…with others…as we journey alone, together.

 

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Matthew 26:47-56

While Jesus was still speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, came.

With him was a large crowd carrying swords and clubs.

They had been sent by the chief priests and elders of the people.

His betrayer had given them a sign: “Arrest the man I kiss.”

Just then he came to Jesus and said, “Hello, Rabbi.” Then he kissed him.

But Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you came to do.”

Then they came and grabbed Jesus and arrested him.

One of those with Jesus reached for his sword.

Striking the high priest’s slave, he cut off his ear.

Then Jesus said to him,

“Put the sword back into its place.

All those who use the sword will die by the sword.

Or do you think that I’m not able to ask my Father and he will send to me more than twelve battle groups of angels right away? But if I did that, how would the scriptures be fulfilled that say this must happen?”

Then Jesus said to the crowds, “Have you come with swords and clubs to arrest me, like a thief? Day after day, I sat in the temple teaching, but you didn’t arrest me. But all this has happened so that what the prophets said in the scriptures might be fulfilled.”

Then all the disciples left Jesus and ran away.

 

In this gut-wrenching scene from Jesus’ life, Jesus experiences one of the most difficult realities of human existence: betrayal. “Friend, do what you came to do.”

 

“Friend.” Judas was Jesus’ friend. Yet he betrayed him. He hurt him. Judas wounded Jesus’ soul and spirit. Because of this, Jesus knows exactly how we feel when we, ourselves, are betrayed.

 

Take a few moments to think of the persons who have hurt or betrayed you. Instead of retaliating against them as Peter retaliated against those who hurt Jesus, say a prayer for those persons now. 

 

Oh God, when I am hurt—when I am betrayed—when my soul and spirit are wounded by those closest to me—you understand. Thank you. Amen.

Writing The Stations of the Cross

 

My pastor asked me to write a series of devotions for the Stations of the Cross that will be set up outside Trinity Lutheran Church in Sanford next week. In case you don’t know, the Stations of the Cross depict the path that Jesus walked on the day of his crucifixion. 

 

There will be 14 stops on our journey to the cross. Each stop will include a banner, a scripture passage, a short devotion, and a prayer. How the devotions and prayers were written was up to me.

 

As I prayed about writing the devotions, a very simple idea came to mind: stick to the scripture, Deanna. Stick to the words and phrases that speak to you as you take your own journey to the cross.

 

So that’s what I did. I didn’t break out the commentaries. I didn’t do an in-depth exegesis of each passage. I simply read the passages and let the words and phrases meet me where I am. And here’s what I found:

 

Jesus was brutally honest with God in prayer.

 

Jesus’s spirit was deeply wounded by Judas’s betrayal even before his body was deeply wounded by the beatings.

 

Jesus remained silent in the face of blatant lies because he knew that no words would convince the Sanhedrin differently.

 

Jesus came into the world to testify to the truth of God’s love, yet his own people did not hear his voice.

 

Mob mentality is a dangerous thing that most often leads away from justice.

 

Jesus began his journey to the cross alone, but he couldn’t make it alone.

 

Jesus didn’t speak much toward the end of his life, yet he made a long speech to the women—the marginalized, overlooked, overseen women.

 

One of the most beautiful prayers ever prayed is “Father, forgive them…”.

 

It’s never too late to be selfish like the first criminal on the cross, but it’s also never too late to be redeemed like the second.

 

Jesus refused to die before he knew that the people he loved would be cared for.

 

Jesus died fully God yet fully human.

 

Joseph of Arimathea did not give into mob mentality and instead offered Jesus a tomb out of the goodness of his heart.

 

In the next week, I challenge you to read through the final day of Jesus’s life. What words and phrases jump out at you? What is God guiding you to offer out of the goodness of your heart?

 

Oh God, you speak to us where we are, when we need it most. Thank you. Amen.

Eye Surgery

 

For me, it’s early. For others, it’s not.

 

5:30am doesn’t seem like morning. It seems like the middle of the night. And yet it was my morning this morning as I got up to send off my dad, mom, and sister for my dad’s first eye surgery.

 

Some of you may remember that my mom was supposed to have eye surgery two weeks ago. Instead, she was sent home with drops to clear up an eye infection and an appointment to reschedule her surgery. In the meantime, my dad scheduled his.

 

Evidently, it’s the season of eye surgery.

 

So off went my family this morning, and there I stood on the porch waving.

 

About an hour later, I got a text saying that they’d arrived safely, through much traffic, while it was still mostly dark outside. Mom and dad were the first people to enter the eye clinic. My dad likes to be on time.

 

I have no major point to this note today. I’m just praying that my dad’s surgery goes well, that my mom’s surgery gets scheduled and goes well, and that both of their second surgeries go well…and that they’ll both be able to see more clearly when all of this is said and done.

 

Today, let us be thankful for our eyes. Our eyes are important. They allow us to view the world in all of its beautiful creation…and there really is beauty all around us…even at 5:30am in the middle of the night morning…if we will only take the time to see.

Sign Followers

 

As of yesterday,

I’m fully vaccinated.

My left arm is sore to prove it.

 

And yet, I will still go to the grocery store, masked,

Late at night or early in the morning

Whenever I have the option.

 

I’ve gotten used to less crowds.

I’ve gotten used to one-way aisles.

I’ve gotten used to going up and down every aisle in its turn.

 

What I’ve not gotten used to, though,

Is people not following the aisle-rules.

It makes me uncharacteristically angry.

 

There are clear signs:

One Way or Wrong Way—

And yet people blatantly ignore the signs.

 

I’m sure that this is a metaphor for life.

I’m sure that there are literal and figurative signs around us

Telling us which way to go.

 

Yet we ignore them

Out of convenience.

We ignore them because it’s easier.

 

And then we get in people’s way.

We make things difficult.

We put lives at risk

 

Because we don’t follow the signs

That are meant to guide us

And keep us safe.

 

Dear God: Help us to be sign-followers.

And forgive us, forgive me, for harshly judging others

When they are not.

 

Help us to remember that

It is only our actions that we can control.

And help us to follow your guidance, even when it’s hard.

 

Amen.

Structure and Routine

 

Every day it’s the same:

3^rd grade, 2^nd grade, Kindergarten,

Lunch.

1^st grade, 5^th grade, 4^th grade,

Duty.

 

Just before lunch,

I park my cart in my 1^st grade classroom.

Grab my morning coffee mug,

Drop it off in my classroom,

Pick up one can of Zero Sugar Ginger Ale,

And go to Shauna The Art Teacher’s Room to eat.

I open my can of Ginger Ale,

Hearing the top pop,

Pour it into my afternoon soda mug,

Inhale my lunch,

And return to the building with my new mug,

Ready to take on the afternoon.

 

The structure and routine are predictable.

They are safe and grounding.

Even when I don’t want to face the day,

The schedule guides me through,

Propelling me forward as

Time marches on…

 

My first counselor, Jenny, once told me something that I’ve never forgotten:

She said, “The liturgy of the church holds faith even when we cannot.

And so we keep saying it—

We keep reading it—

We keep participating in it and doing it

Even when we don’t feel it.

It holds us

Until we can feel again…”

 

Oh God,

Thank you for creating this world

With structure, order, and routine,

And for letting us be part of the things that provide

Goodness, comfort, and faith.

 

When our structures and routines are turned upside down

Like they were a year ago at this time,

Help us to hold to the patterns that you have created.

Help us to remember that morning and night will always come,

The sunrise and sunset,

The moon and her stars,

The seasons in their turn.

 

And God, when we can’t sense you or feel you,

Help us to remember that

Your Word remains steady and true and that

Your Love is all around us.

 

Be with us today,

As we move through the day you have given us.

Help us to celebrate the structures and routines that

Propel us forward,

And help us to celebrate even the smallest victories,

Like the pop of the soda can,

And the gentle brush of the breeze…

 

Amen.

The Trees Got A Haircut

 

On Monday, the trees at school got a haircut.

And even though he watched while the branches were being trimmed,

TJ was very sad about the trees on Tuesday.

Pacing back and forth in the car rider line,

TJ kept expressing his distress:

“I’m sad. I’m angwy. The twees. I love the twees.

The twees are hurt. I’m fwustwated.”

Then he’d find a teacher for comfort.

Yet no matter how much we tried to reassure TJ

That the trees would be okay,

That their branches would grow back,

That they needed to be trimmed just like hair needed to be trimmed,

TJ still paced back and forth and expressed his distress:

“I’m sad. I’m angwy. The twees. I love the twees.

The twees are hurt. I’m fwustwated.”

 

Sometimes, I think, we are all TJ.

We see what is directly in front of us and

Remember what has been. 

We feel sad.

We feel angry.

We feel frustrated.

We hold on to what we’ve known

Because we can’t see what can be.

Sometimes, I think, it’s hard to have faith

In what can be.

It’s hard to believe

That something good can come from something

That looks and feels

So bad.

 

What I love about TJ’s reaction, though,

Is that he expressed his emotions.

He didn’t silently feel sad, angry, and frustrated.

He named the problem.

He told us how he was feeling.

Then he sought comfort in the arms of

Someone who could hold faith

Even when he couldn’t.

 

Oh God.

When we don’t understand,

When all we see is devastation

And all we feel is sad, angry, and frustrated,

Let us be like TJ and

Name the problem,

Express how we’re feeling,

And then seek help and comfort in the arms and hearts

Of someone who can hold faith for us

Until we either see new growth

Or come to hold faith ourselves.

Amen.

Prayer for the World

On Saturday, I posted on FB an in-progress picture of the puzzle that my mom and I are working on. It’s a difficult puzzle. I joked that it was hard work putting the world together, yet a couple of people graciously commented that the world was in good hands. One of the comments made me realize that I should turn the puzzle into a prayer puzzle—using my work-time as conscious prayer time—for those I love—and, yes, for the world.

 

Last night, as I worked on the puzzle, I focused my prayers on two things: 1) my mom, and 2) the world. My mom is having eye surgery today. She’s nervous, as she should be, but she’s hopeful that the surgery will remove the cataract and help clear up some glaucoma. So I prayed for the surgery—for a safe trip there and back—for courage and strength—for an eye clear enough to do the surgery today—for the healing process to move quickly so that she can return to puzzling and playing the piano—for my dad to be patient—for everything to go well.

 

And I prayed for the world. Yesterday’s prayer from the Lutheran church prayed for the world, too—for the physical world, for the political world, and for the social world that we find ourselves in. It said:

 

“Lord God, the heavens declare your glory. Renew your creation. Provide leaders in the struggle for clean air and water; protect creatures and crops that rely on healthy ecosystems; give all people the willingness to repent when our way of life pollutes the earth and skies. Hear us, O God. Your mercy is great.

 

Righteous God, your foolishness is wiser than human wisdom. Fill leaders with the foolishness of your peace and mercy. Your law defends the vulnerable. Work through legislators, judicial systems, and systems of law enforcement to protect the wellbeing and freedom of all. Hear us, O God. Your mercy is great.

 

Loving God, your weakness is stronger than human strength. Protect those who are vulnerable and give courage to all who are suffering…Defend victims of crime and bring redemption to those who have harmed others. Give sabbath rest to all who labor. Hear us, O God. Your mercy is great.”

 

You may not be able to work on the puzzle with mom and me—although, we can arrange a time for you to visit if you feel so inclined to help! And mom and I may not be able to work on the puzzle together for a few days as she recovers from her surgery. But you can still join me in praying for the world—and in praying for my mom today, on this International Women’s Day—and in putting the world together one piece of love at a time.

 

Amen.

 

Women Who Made Automotive History and A Worship Litany

I have a terrible habit of letting junk mail and magazines pile up on the counter. I know that I should deal with mail on the day it arrives, yet I still allow it to pile up until it takes over the kitchen counter. When it reaches that point, I dump it all in a bag. If I’m lucky, I go through the bag in a timely-ish fashion. If I’m not so lucky, then I go through the bag months later. Yesterday, I went through a bag that was both timely and not-so-timely…because I dumped new mail into an old bag yesterday morning. Please tell me I’m not the only one who does things like this!

 

Anyway. As I was going through the bag, I came across a few interesting magazine articles. One (The NC Zoo Magazine) article shared that the NC Zoo is restarting behind-the-scenes tours. One (AAA) shared what the various noises of your car mean. One (Viking Cruise Lines) shared how cruise-lines are adjusting to life with Covid-19. One (SAI Music Sorority) shared about black female Opera singers. One (International Justice Mission) shared the story of a boy who was rescued from labor exploitation. One (Cooperative Baptist Fellowship) shared a beautiful liturgy for worship. And one (AAA Coastal) shared about five women who made automotive history. The latter are what I want to share with you today.

 

Did you know that:

Bertha Benz is credited with devising the world’s first brake pads?

Mary Anderson designed the predecessor of today’s windshield wipers?

Florence Lawrence created the predecessor of today’s turn signals? And

June McCarrol came up with the idea to have painted lines on roads to distinguish separate lanes?

 

Brake pads, windshield wipers, turn signals, and traffic lines: All safety features indispensable to driving today…and all created by women 😊.

 

And…there is no smooth transition between my thoughts today, so I hope you don’t get reader’s whiplash, but I end this note with a worship litany that I hope you will pray with me. I don’t know who wrote it, but it’s a really beautiful call to be present to the needs of this world.

 

“God of all nations, you created a world that is connected.

By climate, by trade and now by disease.

Your world is being threatened by a pandemic that affects us all.

Every religion, every class, every race, and every language.

 

God, we want to be your people.

A people who share your concern for the world.

 

God of all peoples, you created us with a deep desire for connection.

You gave us a capacity to learn from each other.

To talk to each other and to relate.

To hear each other’s voices and to know each other’s stories.

To understand each other when we really try.

You created us to thrive together rather than alone.

 

God, we yearn to be your people.

A people who listen to the cries of the world.

 

God of all creation, you sent your Son and you sent your Spirit.

You have given us the love and hope of Christ.

You have given us the creativity of your Spirit.

You call us and you equip us.

To be present to the people who cross our path.

To use our skills and to share the gifts you have given.

 

God, we long to be your people.

A people who minister to the needs of the world.”

 

And God? Thank you.

Thank you for that Spirit of creativity,

For the love and hope of Christ,

For calling us and equipping us,

And maybe even for laughing with us

When we dump mail into bags and

Sort it months later

Only to find things that we can celebrate

And share with one another.

 

Amen.

And Amen.

Stillness

On Saturday, I lay in my hammock for the first time this year.

It was nice. But it was also weird

As soon as I leaned back and let the strong fabric hold me,

I was transported back a year,

To the beginning of the pandemic,

When the world stood still.

 

All of the feelings and sensations of that

Strange and uncertain time

Enveloped me,

And I could feel

The stillness that characterized those months

Like no other time in our lives.

 

I remembered those early months of online learning

And I marveled at how far we’ve come.

I remembered not knowing how to teach virtually

And I smiled at the knowledge that it’s now second nature.

 

I remembered the toilet paper crisis

And I visualized the empty shelves of the grocery store.

I remembered not knowing how the virus was transmitted

And I laughed at us wiping down our groceries in fear.

 

I remembered the discomfort of wearing a mask

And I thought about how mask-wearing is now normal.

I remembered longing for time with friends and family members

And I smiled at the beauty of family Zoom calls and Face-Timing with friends.

 

But most of all,

I remembered the stillness.

It’s a feeling I can’t describe.

It was a deep-down restfulness of the soul,

Knowing that the demands of the world had stopped

And that God was calling us just to be.

 

We’ve come a long way in a year.

The year has taken and given so much.

Yet as the world has opened back up,

And the busy-ness of life has ensued,

I have to wonder if the stillness that was forced upon us

Isn’t something that we should fight to preserve.

 

Yesterday, I wrote a simple little Sabbath Day poem that I will leave with you now.

Blessings upon blessings to you, my friend.

And may your soul find moments of peace today—

Even in the midst of the busy-ness.

 

Amen.

 

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This world is so fast,

Everything fast—

Fast food,

Fast cash,

Fast results,

Fast cars—

Sometimes it’s nice just to

Slow down and be—

In God’s love,

In prayer,

In silence,

In peace…