by Bud Winderweedle | Sep 1, 2023 | Epistles
This week I’ve been considering the open-handedness (detachment or rightly ordered attachments) with which our community is approaching all the changes. It’s truly how we approach… just about everything! Last night, we discussed and wondered about worship: what it means, how our practices bring us to worship, and how our structures can cultivate a rich and flourishing people. And while we certainly care about the words we use and the way we go about it all, I’m impressed by how open each of you are to trying something new. Like Melody said on Sunday, we are not saying “that won’t work.” We are using our sanctified imaginations to imagine a different way from the “normal.” This has me thinking about imagination and the role contemplation has in cultivating it. A favorite passage on this topic is Matthew 6:25-34. Here’s an excerpt. “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes...
by Bud Winderweedle | Jun 23, 2023 | Epistles
Now that I’m done with my Spiritual Direction program, I’m enjoying grabbing books from my “I really want to read this but maybe later” pile. One of the books I picked up recently is Braiding Sweetgrass by Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer. Reading it has been so refreshing and challenging and eye-opening! (If you want a taste of it, check out this conversation between Björk and Kimmerer here Apple Podcasts or here Other listening option). One of the phrases that has stuck out to me is “all flourishing is mutual.” The indigenous way of caring for creation – and humanity as a part of creation – is to see all things as connected. No thing exists on its own. The way that I care for the trees around my house is caring for myself and my neighbor. In fact, the trees and chipmunks and rabbits are my neighbors. This is so different from the idea of “rugged individualism” steeped in our American culture. We love the idea of a self-made person. Forbes touts self-made millionaires and billionaires as though they made their fortunes without employees, board members, consumers, suppliers, and the likes. Admittedly, doing things on my own is a shot in the arm of my ego. It feels good. But it isn’t sustainable. And it isn’t even the best way to move through the world. As I’ve ruminated on this phrase for a week, I have found it stirring up gratitude in me. The flourishing of the trees around my house provides shade, a place for the birds to sit and sing, a bit of privacy, a place to...
by Bud Winderweedle | Apr 8, 2023 | Epistles
You’re probably reading this after Easter has come and gone. That’s okay; I believe this is still a relevant reflection for us. Even before today (Holy Saturday), I’ve been thinking about the silence of God and attempting to ask better questions about it. Holy Saturday is all about that pause, that silence. What do we do when God is silent? Or a better question, if we were to put ourselves in the sandals of the disciples, what do we do when God is dead? The evening of Good Friday must have been an emotional mess for Jesus’ followers. Can you imagine? The Messiah was dead! God-with-us was dead and buried. Can you imagine losing your hope in one fell swoop? Perhaps you can. Then comes Holy Saturday, Sabbath, a day of rest where we pray things like “may no sorrow or pain find you on this Shabbat.” What is it like to live in the midst of absolute sorrow and pray something like that? Perhaps you know. What must the prayers of the disciples have felt like on that Sabbath? Maybe they are similar to our prayers today on Holy Saturday. Perhaps they feel much like our prayers when we experience the silence of God. As I have contemplated these things during Holy Week, something intriguing has happened to me. I have remembered the times where God has been silent in my own life, and yet I’ve noticed something else in those times. I realized that silence does not mean absence. Perhaps the weight of the silence is the very weight of God’s presence. And maybe out of this...
by Bud Winderweedle | Jan 27, 2023 | Epistles
Have you ever contemplated what prayer is like from God’s perspective? Imagined what God does while we pray? Wondered if God prays for us too? Today’s Lectio 365 used the passage in Romans (8:31-34) addressed this very topic. In it Paul describes Jesus’ sitting at the right hand of the “Father” interceding for us. I haven’t thought about this in a long time, and I found myself wondering what it’s like to have Christ pray for me. So often my prayers focus on my words and needs. Yes, this is still good and sacred prayer. And there is more to prayer than my (our) effort. Consider Christ interceding on your behalf, God praying to God about you and for you. How does this awareness of Divine intercession change your prayer experience? How does it change your awareness when you’re not praying? This topic dovetails well for me with our podcast discussion Thursday night. We talked about hell, and I’m not surprised by how many folks wanted to hash through it. What was so intriguing to me though was how much time we spent talking about heaven. We wondered about what the afterlife could look like, what others said about it, and what we hoped for. As a result of the discussion and the Lectio, I’ve been thinking all day about what is called Jesus’ “High Priestly Prayer” in John chapter 17. Give it a read. “I’m not praying only for them but also for those who believe in me because of their word. I pray they will be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am...
by Bud Winderweedle | Jan 7, 2023 | Epistles
Yeah, I know the subject is a little “click baity,” but since you’re here… My usual morning routine begins with a quiet, contemplative sit in my chair (otherwise known as Bud’s contemplative corner). This usually consists of 21 minutes of silence, breathing, prayer, and maybe some slow reading. Since we got a puppy for Christmas though, my mornings have been a little disrupted as you might imagine. Puppies don’t like to sit still. Shocker! So this year I’ve been using the Lectio 365 app in the mornings while I engage in games of puppy tug-o-war and poorly executed fetch with a stuffed chipmunk. The app is so helpful because it guides me through meditation and reflection – much in the same way that we do together on the first Sunday of every month. (I can happily say though that the pup’s new morning routine is napping in my lap while I have my sit. Balance has been restored to The Force.) One of the reflections this week was on Matthew 25:34-40. Give it a read. “Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who will receive good things from my Father. Inherit the kingdom that was prepared for you before the world began. I was hungry and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I was naked and you gave me clothes to wear. I was sick and you took care of me. I was in prison and you visited me.’ “Then those who are righteous will reply to...
by Bud Winderweedle | Dec 9, 2022 | Epistles
I’ve been reading Isaiah this week, and the first part of chapter 2 had some shimmering phrases which moved me. Give these few verses a read (2:2-5). In days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. Many peoples shall come and say, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” For out of Zion shall go forth instruction and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. He shall judge between the nations and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they learn war any more. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord! The phrases which caught me were “we may walk in [God’s] paths” and “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!” I hear the desire in the first phrase, the desire of a people who see something different and are drawn to it.. There will be a day where the glory of God displayed through the loving/flourishing way of God’s people will be so compelling that the hearts of all people will be turned toward the Lord. It’s easy for us to despair when we see how the Church and her people exist in the world. Yet,...
by Bud Winderweedle | Nov 26, 2022 | Epistles
The season of Advent is such a magical time for me. All of the weekly themes are wonderful, but the theme of hope is what truly invigorates me. During Advent, we celebrate the coming of the Lord with great expectation in our hearts. We hope together for this coming of Christ, God donning flesh to dwell among us and show us the Way of salvation and the very heart of God. Embedded in expectation is the hope that Christ is coming, and with this coming is the setting of all things to right. One of the books I’m reading right now is called The Way of Discernment by Elizabeth Liebert. She uses the term “horizon of expectation” in her section on memory, how important memory is in helping us see clearly and hope. The first time I read it I was stopped in my tracks and had to reread it several times. She says, “memories create a ‘horizon of expectation’ in which we live into the future.” But what does that have to do with Advent? Like the Israelites being reminded throughout the Hebrew scriptures to remember the faithfulness of God, we Christians are reminded throughout both testaments to remember. And the season of Advent is one of those poignant times of the year where we remember God took on flesh to dwell among us. God came as a fragile newborn. God worked through a young, poor Palestinian girl. God broke into the tangible universe in order to “bring down the powerful from their thrones and lift up the lowly; fill the hungry with good things and send the...
by Bud Winderweedle | Nov 11, 2022 | Epistles
Have you ever had a time where you are earnestly seeking an answer to a question and all you experience is silence? I’ve been in that situation for the past several weeks: asking God for answers and hearing nothing. Luckily, I met with my Spiritual Director this past week. I shared with him my desolation in this paralyzed state. While my prayer time still felt like joy and love, this non-answer made me feel like I was doing something wrong or not hearing correctly. God speaks, right? That’s an important theological assumption, but I wasn’t hearing a thing. The silence was driving me to desolation, making me feel like I needed to stay put, to not make a decision either way. In response, my Director offered me this gem. If you’re not hearing anything, there’s likely nothing to hear. Immediately, my heart lifted. Why do I doubt my ability to hear God? Why would I think God would speak in a way that I couldn’t hear when my intention is open and ready to hear? Just because I want some direction, some movement, that doesn’t mean God’s going to give me what I want. I want a no or yes, go or stay. What I’m hearing – or not hearing – is “stay put and not yet.” What then is the purpose of the silence if I’m left waiting on an answer? Is it still productive? Are these even the right questions? I don’t think so. And even though I’ve been praying and practicing for decades, I still fall back into the habit of wanting something to happen, hearing...
by Bud Winderweedle | Oct 21, 2022 | Epistles
I read something the other day that I haven’t been able to shake. See how it strikes you. “The image of God is universally human.” This quote is courtesy of Nonna Verna Harrison in her book God’s Many-Splendored Image. The entire book is doubling down on the fact that we are good, created in God’s good image. (The “total depravity” view of humanity is merely one of the many views on this topic.) Like most Truth, this statement contains a plenitude of meaning. There are two levels of this truth which come to the forefront for me. The first is that God doubled-down on humanity’s goodness when God chose to become Emmanuel (God with Us) in the person of Jesus the Christ. “So God created humankind in God’s image…God saw everything that They had made, and indeed, it was very good.” (Genesis 1:27,31) “‘She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.’ All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: ‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel’, which means, ‘God is with us.’” (Matthew 1:21-23) This is fantastic news! I hope you find it restorative to know that you do not need to think of yourself as someone who needs to get scrubbed up before you can be loved, before you can be considered good. You are good. God loves you just as you are. And that Love is transformative. As we allow ourselves to be loved and love in return,...
by Bud Winderweedle | Oct 7, 2022 | Epistles
Melody and I just got back from the Unavoidable Conversations conference in Metairie, LA. And… wow! Both the speakers and discussions around these small tables were incredible. So much encouragement for our souls. (I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about it in the coming weeks.) One of the topics was the Bible, essentially attempting to answer the question “in our deconstruction, what do we do with the Bible?” No, we didn’t run around the issue of pain and abuse caused in the name of Jesus and backed up by Bible verses. The speakers and those of us in attendance addressed it head-on. I know that many of us can’t read the Bible on our own because of past harms. The wounds are still wide open for us. If the wounds have healed, there’s still the phantom ache whenever we hear a passage or see the book or listen to a sermon. This pain cannot be ignored, and (speaking as one of your pastors) it is my responsibility to provide the environment where this religious hurt can be healed fully. This abuse via the Bible is one of the many ways the Church has harmed people. And it is causing people to give up on her, the Church, and even give up on God in some cases. Be honest with yourself, how often do you wonder why you’re still “in”: going to church, believing in God, loving Jesus, in community? And, if I’m honest, even as a pastor and Spiritual Director, I still ask myself this question. But it was Lisa Sharon Harper who shared the balm for this wound....
