SATURDAY, March 28
Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.” Jesus said to him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
— Mark 10:51-52
Jesus heals the blind in all four Gospels, and each story is deeply moving. Earlier in Mark, he heals a blind man by spitting and making mud. Here, Jesus simply says, “Your faith has made you well.” Mark’s telling of this story is so vivid that it is easy to put ourselves into the scene and hear the blind beggar calling out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” We can see the man spring up, throw off his cloak and rush to Jesus to be healed.
How strong this beggar’s faith must have been, that it brought about his healing. Jesus tells him, “Go; your faith has made you well.” What great faith he must have had to recognize who Jesus truly was, even without being able to see him. In the darkness of his blindness, the beggar could still see the light.
The healing of the blind, of course, also has a symbolic meaning. Jesus is trying to make the world see the truth, and even his disciples are blind to it. Sadly, humans in the past—and even today—are still blind to the full reality of God’s glory. The world is still choosing not to follow Jesus’ command to serve one another in love and to make the least of us the greatest.
This is one of the Gospel passages that inspired the Jesus Prayer, which is “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” It is meant to be repeated over and over, and it was first used by the Desert Mothers and Fathers in Egypt in the fourth century. When done consistently over time, it is a deep and powerful way to invite God’s mercy into our blindness. I highly recommend it.
Reflect: When have your eyes been opened on your spiritual journey?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
FRIDAY, March 27
James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” They replied, “We are able.”
— Mark 10:35-39a
At this point in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus and his disciples begin their journey to Jerusalem. On the way, Jesus tries once again to explain what is to come—his suffering, death and resurrection—but the disciples still don’t get it. They do not want to believe that their teacher and friend will endure such suffering.
Their denial is such that James and John come to him and ask if they can be the equivalent of a chief minister and lord chamberlain by sitting at his right and left hand in glory. Instead of being impressed by their wish to serve, Jesus scolds them. Clearly, they are envisioning a future that is the opposite of God’s plan.
Oh, how many times I’ve done that! When I joined the Convent, I prayed for God to use me in any capacity to build up the church and the religious life. I was grateful for the opportunity to live and serve in New York City in a ministry to the unhoused. Every day, I prayed fervently to do all I could for my Savior. At the end of every one of those prayers, I would always ask, “And please, God, whatever you do, please don’t let me ever be elected Sister Superior.”
And guess what God did? In 2018, the Superior told me I’d be coming back to the mother house from New York. I was heartbroken. I did not want to leave my ministry there, and I did not want to leave all my friends and colleagues. The community insisted, though, and I grudgingly came home. When I returned from New York that summer, various Sisters kept pulling me aside and whispering that they wanted to elect me Superior. That was why I had been told to return to Mendham.
I prayed, “OK, God, we talked about this. Remember? That is the one thing I cannot do. I am woefully unqualified! Surely these nuns will come to their senses if you intervene! Please Lord, take this cup from me.”
In spite of my pleas and my fervent attempts to keep my story on my track, I was elected Superior less than a year after I made my life profession to become a nun.
My prayer after the election was, “All right, God, if you’re going to force me to face my fears, you’ll have to run this community through me. I cannot do it, but I can be the instrument of your will for us.” This past December, I was re-elected to a second fiveyear term.
The disciples were focused on their own vision of Jesus reigning supreme on an earthly throne with a firm hierarchy of disciples in place. God’s plan was, as always, much better.
Reflect: When has God made you face your fears? How did you feel about God’s plan as opposed to your own?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
THURSDAY, March 26
Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
— Mark 10:21
When I was discerning the call to be a nun, this passage leapt into my mind. I was 46. I had a successful career as a photo editor in Hollywood, and I had dozens of friends. My job was stressful, yet I was always terrified of getting fired. I clung to the security of the paycheck even though it was costing me my health. I’d been like that since I was 7 years old, knocking on doors offering to rake leaves for the neighbors for a quarter. Not earning money, getting rid of all my belongings and moving away from all my friends was daunting to me. I had been earning money since I was a child. How would I survive without a paycheck?
I put off joining the Convent for many years as I hovered over the threshold to the unknown. Then I was told I needed to be out of debt to enter a community, so that added another ten years. I often despaired that I would never get out of debt and that I had let God down by waiting too long. Somehow, though, God found a way. My boss suddenly gave me a significant pay raise. Friends asked me to do freelance work, and someone at church anonymously gave me $1,000. I started getting rid of my stuff and realized it all seemed like heavy weights to me. The idea of being free of all the clutter, knick-knacks and dishes I’d never used started to feel good.
When I was finally accepted into the Community of St. John Baptist, I quit my job and drove across the country with a friend. Any time I was seized with fear because I was jobless, I would repeat the words “God will take care of me” as a mantra. By the time we reached the East Coast, I had convinced myself that my mantra was the truth. I put my life into God’s hands and trusted that God would take care of me.
God then showed me the abundance of a life lived in his service. I have no income and no bank account, yet I feel more cared for now than I ever have. We Sisters have all we need within our lives of Holy Poverty. We live simply, but we are blessed beyond measure by God’s goodness.
Reflect: What do you think of this passage? Monastics take it literally, but it can also be interpreted differently for modern minds.
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
WEDNESDAY, March 25
But from the beginning of creation, “God made them male and female.” For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no one separate.”
— Mark 10:6-9
In this passage in Scripture, Jesus seems to be condemning divorce. As you can imagine, his words here cause some discomfort for many people. I know some preachers who dread the Sunday when this Gospel is appointed for the sermon. I completely understand. It makes me uncomfortable, too, because I am also divorced, and so are some of my Sisters in the Convent. Many of my friends and family members have divorced and remarried. What is Jesus saying about all of us?
As is always the case with Scripture, there are many ways of interpreting Jesus’ words. Even in his own time, Jewish husbands were allowed to divorce their wives. Roman wives were also allowed to divorce their husbands. It was an accepted practice that was in keeping with the Law. Jesus says, “Because of your hardness of heart [Moses] wrote this commandment for you.” Jesus acknowledges that divorce is in the Law according to Moses, but he also points out that Moses wrote the Law because of the people’s hardness of heart.
The interpretation of this passage that makes the most sense to me is that Jesus is holding up an ideal for the union of two people. They should love each other to the point of becoming one flesh. They should be kind to each other, and they should take care of each other. It is only through human weakness that spouses become abusers, drive their families into financial ruin, or commit any of the many other destructive acts that take root in the human heart. Jesus is saying, “This is how it should be. Love should be eternal. Love is from God. Why can’t you people figure out how to love each other?” It is in keeping with his commandment for all of us to love one another.
Jesus then shows his boundless love by blessing the little children after the disciples scolded them. This is one of the few instances in Scripture where he becomes angry. He has compassion for these innocents, and he was indignant that they were being mistreated. In all his actions, Jesus demonstrates the essence of true love.
Reflect: How do you deal with challenging passages in scripture? Do you have a prayerful response that helps you with this encounter?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
TUESDAY, March 24
And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.
— Mark 9:47-48
When I was a kid in the Baptist church, we heard a lot about hell, and I can assure you that it kept me on the straight and narrow. Visiting preachers would deliver sermons on hell, and we learned all about the long list of things that might lead us into the lake of unquenchable fire. We even saw very low-budget scary films and slideshows about it, and I truly believed that they were scientifically accurate representations of a real flaming place with people wailing and gnashing their teeth just like in the movie.
Jesus talks a lot about hell in this passage, but what is he saying? He tells us that unless we rid ourselves of things that are destructive to us or others, we will “go to hell.”
The original Greek for the word hell in this passage, and at least seven other places in the Gospels, is Gehenna (γέεννα). Gehenna was an actual place outside Jerusalem, which has variously been described as a constantly burning garbage dump, a place of unclean burial for outcasts or a place of pagan child sacrifice. Was Jesus using Gehenna as an example of what hell is like, or was he using it as a metaphor for the hell we experience in our lives when we choose the path of harm and destruction?
What the actual, empirical truth is, we have no idea. Theologians and scholars have pondered the concept of hell over the centuries, and no one has ever figured it out. Nobody has ever been there to bring back a report. Jesus is speaking of something here that is beyond our comprehension. We do not know what this hell is, but we can comprehend the idea of ridding ourselves of destructive things. We know that following God will help us avoid hell, whether it’s in our own lives or takes some other form.
Reflect: What were you taught about hell? What is your belief about hell now?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
MONDAY, March 23
He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”
— Mark 9:35-37
Some of the best leaders, teachers and priests I have ever met are people who serve others, and the worst leaders I’ve ever met are people who want to control others with fear and intimidation. A good leader asks the people, “What gifts has God given you, and what would you like to accomplish with those gifts?” Leading in this way leans into an asset-based community development approach, a philosophy that guides Episcopal Relief & Development’s work.
Today’s Vespers reading contains three stories in which Christ educates the disciples and also us modern believers about how religion, government and all systems of the world should operate. He chose to be incarnate on earth at a time when the hierarchies of society were fixed and when humans had chosen to assign different values to different human beings. Slavery was an integral part of the ancient world, and slaves were considered to be of lowest value. Children had low value in society because they were dependent and not yet productive.
In his ministry, Jesus turns that entire system on its head and reminds his disciples that no one is greater than another. He rejects their question about who among them is the greatest by saying, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”
Reflect: Can you imagine a world in which all humankind is of service to each other? What would that look like?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
SATURDAY, March 21
Someone from the crowd answered him, “Teacher, I brought you my son; he has a spirit that makes him unable to speak; and whenever it seizes him, it dashes him down; and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid; and I asked your disciples to cast it out, but they could not do so.” He answered them, “You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you? Bring him to me.”
— Mark 9:17-19
Whenever I hear this passage read aloud in church, I have to stifle a chuckle when Jesus says, “How much longer must I put up with you?” Who among us hasn’t either said that or thought it at some point when we are frustrated with the people around us? Jesus has tried to explain to the people who he is. He has performed many miracles, and the disciples have witnessed astonishing things, and yet, the people still do not fully believe that he is the Son of God.
When I began my studies as a hospital chaplain, one of my Sisters in the Convent told me about a prayer practice she had learned while working as a nurse, which involved thanking God for healing instead of asking God to heal. This approach can be used for others as well, so I began praying for people in the hospital by saying, “Thank you, God, for this healing miracle” instead of asking for one. I asked my Sister, “But what if I thank God for the miracle and then the patient dies?” She said, “That means that God has healed the person into the next life instead of healing them in this life. That, too, is a miracle.” This prayer practice reinforces what Jesus does in his healing miracles. He makes it a participatory exercise instead of just putting his hands on someone and being done with it. Many times in the Gospels, he points out that the person’s faith brought them healing. In today’s story, the boy’s father begs Jesus, “If you are able to do anything, help us!” and Jesus responds with, “If you are able!—All things can be done for the one who believes.” The boy’s father then utters one of the most profound pleas in all of Scripture: “I believe; help my unbelief!”
When we appeal to God for healing and transformation, we are active participants in that healing through our faith. Later in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus says, “So I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours” (Mark 11:24). This kind of faith can be ours, especially if we ask of Jesus, “I believe; help my unbelief.”
Reflect: How can you be an active participant in healing? What holy habits might help in this journey?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
FRIDAY, March 20
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them.
— Mark 9:2
The Transfiguration is another one of those wonderfully visual stories where it is relatively easy to put ourselves into the scene and imagine it happening right in front of us. The Transfiguration is recorded in all three of the Synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark and Luke—and it provides us with another glimpse into the unfathomable nature of God.
Jesus asks Peter, James and John up to a mountaintop, and there they see Jesus transformed into blinding white light. Moses, who also went onto a mountaintop and encountered God in the flaming light of a burning bush, appears along with the prophet Elijah. Jesus speaks to Moses and Elijah as Peter, James and John stand awestruck. Peter wants to make three tents to contain the three, just as the Israelites made a tent and then the temple for the presence of the Holy of Holies. Just then, though, God’s voice declares that Jesus is his beloved son just as he did at Jesus’ baptism.
In this story, as in yesterday’s reading, Jesus is revealing who he truly is in stages. First, he asks, “Who do you say that I am?” and Peter recognizes him as the Messiah. Then he speaks of God’s will for him in the cross and resurrection, and now he appears to them in full glory, which leaves them no doubt about the enormity of their situation.
Our own journey of faith also involves getting to know Jesus in stages. When I was a child, growing up in the Southern Baptist Church in the late 1960s, I thought of Jesus as a cool, laid-back hippie cousin of mine. Jesus was my buddy. I talked to him. We prayed to him at church, and everything was positive and easy. We did not observe Holy Week at our church—just Christmas and Easter with all the candy and celebration.
As I matured in my faith, however, I began to understand the deeper meaning of Jesus’ identity. When I became an Episcopalian, I avoided going to Holy Week services because they were too upsetting to me. When I finally decided to face the uncomfortable feelings of Holy Week, my faith deepened significantly, and I began to comprehend the Good News of Jesus Christ: God has power over death.
Reflect: Who was Jesus to you as you grew in faith? How has your concept of Jesus changed since you first began to believe?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
THURSDAY, March 19
He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?”
— Mark 8:29a
The tone of Mark’s Gospel changes dramatically at this point from the exuberant joy of crowds and miracles to a sober warning of suffering and death. Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah, and Jesus then tells the disciples that he must face rejection, be killed and rise again.
After this shocking revelation, Peter takes Jesus aside and rebukes him. This story is also told in Matthew, where Peter says, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you” (Matthew 16:22b). Jesus responds by rebuking Peter harshly: “Get behind me, Satan!” Peter is doing what any good friend would do, but Jesus reminds him that the concerns of God do not conform to the limits of human thought.
Whenever I ask for God’s help with a tough situation, I intentionally visualize what I want, I visualize five other possible outcomes and then I leave a space for the Holy Spirit. Over the years, I have realized that if I cling too tightly to my own version of the outcome, I am rigidly following my own will instead of submitting to the will of God. Whenever I remember to leave room for God’s plan, God always comes up with a much better solution than I ever could.
Peter loves his friend Jesus. He does not want him to suffer and die. He wants to do everything in his power to protect Jesus from this terrible fate. Even though Peter is acting out of love, Jesus admonishes him, reminding him that God’s will must be done. Peter’s own will, in this situation, is set against God’s plan just as Satan and the forces of destruction are set against it.
All of us want to prevent bad things from happening, but we often fail to recognize how everything we encounter, both good and bad, is part of God’s larger, eternal story.
Reflect: Are there any situations in your life story where God’s solution was better than what you wanted to happen?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
WEDNESDAY, March 18
Now the disciples had forgotten to bring any bread; and they had only one loaf with them in the boat. And he cautioned them, saying, “Watch out— beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod.”
— Mark 8:14-15
Well, here we are talking about bread again.
One of the many gifts of the Divine Office is the consecutive reading of Scripture passages, which provides continuity and context as we follow Jesus on his way to the Cross. Yesterday, there were seven loaves of bread. Today, the poor, distracted disciples forget to bring enough bread, so they only have one loaf. We might expect Jesus to multiply this bread, too, but instead he uses it as a warning. He has just rebuffed the Pharisees who asked him for a sign, and he cautions his followers to watch out for the yeast, or teachings, of the Pharisees. Being fully human and fully divine, Jesus gets as exasperated with the disciples as he does with the Pharisees, asking, “Do you have eyes, and fail to see? Do you have ears, and fail to hear? And do you not remember?”
Jesus and the disciples then go to Bethsaida, where there is indeed a man who has eyes and fails to see. The man is brought to Jesus for healing. Jesus spits on the man’s eyes, and when he asks if the man can see anything, the man replies, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking.” This wonderfully vivid response is so clear that we can easily visualize the scene. He is beginning to see, but like the disciples, he is only about halfway there. When Jesus puts his hands on the man’s eyes, he can see clearly.
I have been attending church since I was about a month old, and I have studied the Bible throughout my life. However, I am still only about halfway to understanding the nature of God and the full significance of the Incarnation of God in Jesus. I am like the blind man, about halfway there. I also relate to the disciples and the Pharisees who struggle to comprehend what Jesus says and does. His wisdom is so much greater than human understanding that I know I will still be only about halfway toward seeing it clearly at the end of my life.
The good news is Jesus never gives up on us. Just as he did with the blind man, he keeps trying to heal and transform us.
Reflect: What are some of the teachings and actions of Jesus that you have trouble understanding? Can you bring those questions into your prayer life and ask God to give you eyes to see?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
TUESDAY, MARCH 17
Then he ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground; and he took the seven loaves, and after giving thanks he broke them and gave them to his disciples to distribute; and they distributed them to the crowd. They had also a few small fish; and after blessing them, he ordered that these too should be distributed. They ate and were filled.
— Mark 8:6-8a
I am not a foodie. When people start waxing rhapsodic about a recipe and rattling off all the ingredients to me, or they list every element of a wonderful meal they had, my mind goes to static. I couldn’t possibly care less. I eat to stay alive. I enjoy eating, but I do not have any interest in cooking or pondering myriad ingredients and oven temperatures.
When I try to understand the importance of food in the ministry of Jesus, though, I sometimes need to put myself in the shoes of someone who is a foodie. I challenge myself to view it through the lens of someone who has a strong, profound connection to cooking and feeding. For people like that, food is far, far more than just something you wolf down to stay alive. Food, for them, contains a whole universe of taste and smell and symbolism. It is a holy ministry, in their perception, to feed people.
Jesus feels compassion for the people who have traveled far to see him. His soft heart knows that they must be hungry and tired, so he wants to feed them. The wisdom of God is the spiritual food that nourishes and strengthens us, and Jesus adds to that by providing tangible food that strengthens our physical selves. God always seeks to nourish us and tend to our needs.
Reflect: What does food symbolize to you? How do the two feeding stories in Mark shape your understanding of the spiritual food of God?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
MONDAY, March 16
They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”
— Mark 7:37
As part of my training for the ordination process, I worked as a chaplain intern in a large hospital for nine months. Over the course of those months, I often Reflected on how a hospital is a place where people of all faiths, economic backgrounds and cultures live under one roof. As a Christian chaplain, I had to learn ways of relating to all the patients I visited, despite our superficial differences.
When I was called to the bedside of a man who was dying, I looked at the religious affiliation in his chart and saw that he was Muslim. I immediately thought, “Uh oh. This guy does not want a Christian chaplain to visit him.” When I arrived at the bedside, the man’s son, daughter-in-law and toddler grandson were there. Despite my fear of offending or upsetting them, they welcomed me. They even trusted me to babysit their adorable toddler while they called friends and family. In that place of healing, there were no walls between us.
Today’s reading from Mark contains two stories of healing. Jesus casts a demon out of the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter, then heals a man who was deaf and mute.
The woman is not Jewish, so Jesus tells her that his miracles and teachings are not for “the dogs,” code for those who are not God’s chosen people. She persists in her pleas, though, and Jesus grants her request, saying, “For saying that, you may go — the demon has left your daughter.” The deaf-mute man is part of the chosen people, but he is an outsider because he is perceived as defective and sinful because of his physical imperfections. Jesus does not refuse to heal either of these people Instead, he shows us the real meaning of God’s Law.
Reflect: How can you find common ground with those who are different from you or who may be considered “outsiders” in a social setting?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
SATURDAY, March 14
And he said, “It is what comes out of a person that defiles. For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come: fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.”
— Mark 7:20-23
I have always considered this passage a perfect message for Lent. The Pharisees see Jesus’ disciples eating with unwashed hands, and Jesus replies to their rebukes by quoting Isaiah and telling them, “You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.” Jesus is not just bashing the Laws of the Jewish people here and being disobedient. He is talking about hypocrisy.
There are so many times in my daily life when I wish that people I encounter would “act better” or “do the right thing.” Jesus reminds me that I have no control over other people’s words and actions. I can only control my own words and actions by setting healthy boundaries and responding thoughtfully instead of reacting impulsively. I sometimes fall back on my old pattern of “Well, he made me mad,” or “She made me feel judged.” But then I remember that no one can make me feel anything. My feelings are based on my own thoughts and perceptions of what enters my heart from the outside. Transforming my reactions into healthy responses is something that happens deep within.
Jesus reminds us to avoid the hypocrisy of following the Law in a superficial manner. He tells us instead to follow God’s Law within our hearts and cleanse ourselves of inclinations toward destructive behaviors. The Pharisees’ judgment of people who don’t wash their hands is superficial compared to their uncharitable behavior. Many of Jesus’ followers were probably poor or lacked access to ritual cleansing vessels and clean water. The Pharisees would have done far better to help the poor in front of them rather than condemning them for breaking the Law.
Reflect: What are some ways that you have learned to transform destructive reactions into charitable responses?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
FRIDAY, March 13
And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
— Mark 6:56
In today’s reading, Jesus first walks on water, then, when the boat lands at Gennesaret, he begins healing the sick. He had gone up a mountain to pray, as his disciples went ahead to Bethsaida, but then nearly scared them to death by appearing to walk on water as the wind tossed their boat around.
My favorite part of this passage is “He intended to pass them by,” which evokes a hilarious image of Jesus strolling casually past the boat when the disciples see him and think he is a ghost. This story is a bit difficult to understand, and it unfolds in a somewhat comical way because the disciples are so human in their confused reaction. They remind me of all of us. I think we’d all react in much the same way as we tried to wrap our primitive, human minds around the incarnation of the Divine.
When the whole confused band of disciples arrives at Gennesaret with Jesus, great crowds bring people to him for healing. These people, too, do not fully understand who this miracle worker actually is. The idea that any man could be God, come to earth in human form, is just beyond them. To them, he is simply a human who can heal.
Reflect: When was a time in your life when you were truly surprised by God’s presence?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
THURSDAY, March 12
Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before the people; and he divided the two fish among them all. And all ate and were filled; and they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish. Those who had eaten the loaves numbered five thousand men.
— Mark 6:41-44
As a child, I used to wonder, “If Jesus could perform miracles and God has power over everything, why would he just… feed people?” Why, I wondered, didn’t he overthrow the Roman Empire? Why wouldn’t he bless the ground so that there would be an abundance of food every day? When I delved deeper into the symbolism of this story, I began to understand the importance of this miraculous feeding of the five thousand. In the story, Jesus looks at the crowd and has compassion for them because he sees that they are like sheep without a shepherd. He wants the crowd to stay so he can teach them, but his disciples tell him they need to disperse the crowds and move on, because there is nothing to feed them. It would be better, they say, to allow all these people to go somewhere else and get food. Jesus says, “You give them something to eat.” Then they begin asking questions about logistics. Jesus solves the problem by dividing the five loaves and two fish into enough for everyone.
The COVID pandemic closed down the world in March 2020, only three months after I had been elected Superior. We had to shut down our retreat house and our guest ministry, and the parishes where we worked were closed indefinitely. Without our guest ministry income and our outreach to the church, I was seized by a deep terror that our Convent would not survive or worse, that our Sisters vulnerable to respiratory illnesses might die. Nearly every day, I prayed to God, “Please help us.” The parish where I served stepped in and provided us with donated food from local grocery stores. Our friends and associates dug deep into their pockets and donated twice their usual amount. They also helped us learn how to do ministry online and reach more people than ever before. With God’s protection, we survived. None of our Sisters were lost to COVID, and we had a miraculously generous amount of food and support.
There are many meanings to this miracle, but my current understanding is that it means God always supplies enough for everyone. It is only through greed, war and injustice that people are made to starve. “You give them something to eat” is God’s message to us. There is always enough. We just need to devise a system in which everyone has all they need, and people step in to help.
Reflect: Where have you seen examples of corrupt systems that cause poverty and hunger? How can you play a role in forming a more just system?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
WEDNESDAY, March 11
The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.
— Mark 6:26-29
In the Gospel of Mark, the story of John the Baptist is told as a flashback to explain King Herod’s extreme reaction to the ministry of Jesus. We see the conflict within Herod as he tries to appease his subjects and his family while fighting his desire to tolerate John because he “feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him.” Herod caves in to the pressures around him, though, and orders John to be beheaded.
Our Community specifically chose John the Baptist as our patron because of his call to repent. The Community of St. John Baptist was formed in 1852 within an existing ministry that helped poor women transform their lives by gaining an education and acquiring valuable job skills.
When John called the people to repent, he was not asking them to cower and await punishment. Instead, this call for repentance comes from the Greek word metanoia, which roughly translates into a change of thinking or a turning around to a different point of view. John, our founders believed, was calling the world to change its thinking and to care for the poor, the marginalized and the oppressed. I appreciate that Episcopal Relief & Development’s approach focuses not on a top-down rescue but on strengthening the existing gifts and resources of local communities. In earlier times, both foreign and domestic missionary efforts sometimes imposed their own ideas rather than hearing the people’s needs. Superficial top-down rescue cannot heal deeply, but collaborative empowerment sparks real transformation.
Herod silenced the voice of John the Baptist, but he did not silence the message. John pointed the way to Jesus Christ, who continued to call on the world to turn away from greed and violence and embrace compassion and justice.
Reflect: Can you think of people who are carrying out John and Jesus’ call to repentance in our modern age?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
TUESDAY, March 10
Then Jesus said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief… “If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”
— Mark 6:4-6, 11
In the twenty years that I lived in Hollywood, I encountered many non-believers. Instead of waving a Bible in their face and telling them they were doomed to hell if they didn’t repent and accept Jesus, I listened to their reasons for rejecting God and religion. Most of them made excellent points. They were shocked when I told them I agreed with their reasons, and I tried to gently let them know that not all religions are oppressive and exclusive, and not all faith traditions portray God as angry and judgmental. I gradually began to realize that most people are completely unaware that they have choices in their spiritual journey and that they, like many of us, are longing to know there is a safe and loving place for them.
As followers of Christ, we are called to spread the Good News to all creation, but in these two passages, Jesus reminds us that we will sometimes encounter rejection. Jesus himself is rejected by the people in his own hometown. He then tells the disciples what to do if they go into a town and their teaching is rejected.
I am always amazed when I see people attempting to pound Jesus’ message angrily into non-believers. Any good teacher will tell you that this is not going to work. Jesus shows us here that if we try to share the Good News and encounter rejection, we simply move on. He gives us the example of a peaceful response to unbelief rather than an angry reaction.
Reflect: How have you successfully or unsuccessfully modeled your faith to nonbelievers?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
MONDAY, March 9
He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease… He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age).
— Mark 5:34, 41-42a
I don’t know about you, but God’s timing is always much too slow for me. I am a quickthinking, decisive person, and I need God ASAP. I worked in entertainment advertising for twenty years, and everything had to happen instantly. Our deadlines were tight and non-negotiable. While I was working for those twenty years, I was begging God, “Please let me be a nun. I know I am called to it. Why can’t I do it NOW?” I had to be out of debt to enter a Convent, and it seemed like it was taking forever. I wasn’t sure if God would ever answer my prayers. When I entered the Convent in 2012, I was 46 years old. In the years since I have been in community, I have realized that all the skills I learned in advertising were exactly the skills I needed to proclaim the Gospel to the world.
Today’s Gospel passage gives us useful insight into God’s timing. The two healing stories contain parallels. Jesus heals a woman who has been hemorrhaging for twelve years, and he heals a young girl who is twelve years old. They are both daughters. The young girl is the daughter of a synagogue leader, and the woman is referred to by Jesus as “daughter.”
Jesus shows no partiality to either the daughter of a prominent authority figure or an outcast “unclean” woman who violates protocol to obtain access to Jesus’ miraculous powers. Both are equal in God’s sight, so Jesus lingers to speak with the woman who touches his cloak and seems to be wasting valuable time as the synagogue official’s child lies dying. Just as in the story of Lazarus from the Gospel of John, he is portrayed as waiting too long, allowing someone to die. And yet, in God’s perfect timing, Jesus takes the hand of the girl and heals her.
God is all-powerful: no matter how dire the situation is, it is never too late. Healing and transformation can take place at any stage of the human journey. God can heal by restoring us to this life or by bringing us into eternal life, and God’s timing is always perfectly aligned with God’s plan.
Reflect: Have you ever known a person who was healed or transformed after it seemed too late for them? Think about God’s timing in your own life. Have there been situations when, in retrospect, God’s timing turned out to be just what you needed?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
SATURDAY, March 7
The swineherds ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came to see what it was that had happened. They came to Jesus and saw the demoniac sitting there, clothed and in his right mind, the very man who had had the legion; and they were afraid.
— Mark 5:14-15
In today’s passage from Mark, Jesus casts out demons from a man in the region of the Gerasenes. To our modern minds, this man would seem to be suffering from mental illness or some physical illness that caused him to live out a tortured existence. After Jesus orders, “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!”, the demons call out to Jesus, begging him to send them into a herd of swine.
Why does Jesus pause after commanding the demons to leave the man? Why does he ask the demon its name, which it says is Legion because “we are many?” Why does he listen to their request and grant it?
There are many theories as to why Jesus seems to grant mercy on the legion of demons. The one I identify with the most is that Jesus is showing his power over everything, including evil. We humans have no idea what “demons” really are, and we have no clear indication of God’s relationship to these “demons” in the wider context of creation. Jesus shows us here that there are still many things we do not know. In that time and place, people who suffered from mental illness were said to be possessed by evil spirits. We now know that these things can be a manifestation of genetics or environment and often relate to brain chemistry and structure, but we still have no idea why these circumstances occur or why they are part of God’s creation.
I have seen many friends and family members beset by their own demons of addiction and alcoholism. It is heartbreaking to watch good people in the throes of something that overtakes their true selves and seeks to destroy them. When I ask God to help these people, I don’t ask God to treat their symptoms. Instead, I ask God to transform their souls so that they can return to themselves.
Reflect: Can you take these questions into your prayer life? Can you ask God to help you understand why these “demons” are among us?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development
FRIDAY, March 6
A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”
— Mark 4:37-40
As a spiritual director, I find that most of my directees are either ordained clergy or are in the process of ordination. I always use this miracle of Jesus calming the storm to provide context for the work of ministry. The church, I tell them, is not a shiny, seaworthy vessel with perfect crew members guiding it. It is, instead, a leaky ship with a crew of all sorts, and it is truly a miracle that it still remains afloat. Church folks do not sign up for an easy journey. But we try our best to keep the church going through hard times with very human, fallible passengers and crew.
This story is found in Matthew, Mark and Luke, and it echoes Psalm 107, which recounts God’s deliverance of the Israelites from their many struggles. Verses 28 and 29 of the Psalm say: “Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. He stilled the storm to a whisper and quieted the waves of the sea.”
Jesus, as the incarnation of God, calms the waves of the sea.
Our boat, the church, is fragile and tiny against the powerful forces that rage against it. Our ministry is often shaken by forces beyond our control. The stress of trying to remain faithful to our discipleship can sometimes lead to disillusionment and burnout. Jesus, in this story, is sleeping peacefully on a cushion while the storm rages. He is baffled as to why the disciples are afraid.
When Jesus calms the raging waters, he is showing us that even in the midst of the storm, God is still in charge. God has power over every difficulty we face, and all we have to do is ask for God’s help.
Reflect: How has your own spiritual path been tossed about by the waves of the world?
This Lenten Meditation can be found at Episcopal Relief and Development