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Micah 7.14-15, 18-20

Shepherd your people with your staff, the flock that belongs to you, which lives alone in a forest in the midst of a garden land; let them feed in Bashan and Gilead as in the days of old. As in the days when you came out of the land of Egypt, show us marvelous things. Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity and passing over the transgression of the remnant of your possession? He does not retain his anger forever, because he delights in showing clemency. He will again have compassion upon us; he will tread our iniquities under foot. You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea. You will show faithfulness to Jacob and unswerving loyalty to Abraham, as you have sworn to our ancestors from the days of old.

As I read the passage, I was struck with a sense of motion or swaying. Is the author talking about God or to God? Are we stuck in the forest or is there hope and bounty nearby? If today is hard, were the “good old days” marvelous? Is the author reminding God of his compassion or demanding the faithfulness that God swore to his people?

With time and distance, I am better able to gain perspective, to see where God was at work in my life, to acknowledge what was marvelous. I recently read Exodus, and there were plenty of challenges for the Israelites back then; they were fearful and sick of manna and doubting all in the midst of the marvelous things including God appearing to Moses. I say this to remind myself that “yes, today may have challenges”, I may be living in fear or resentment, and I may miss that this current moment is marvelous.

For me, this is the ongoing juxtaposition of Covid times. Life turned 180 degrees. A year ago, I was exhausted and burned out, wishing I could take a break from the daily hustle to midtown, slow down and live deeper. Some days I feel cut off from the flock, and yet I have gotten to know many much better than I could have in “normal” overscheduled life. The joy that my parents will be fully vaccinated means that it is time for me to return home, which is bittersweet. Working online meant I could participate in Sacred Ground and God Has Work for Us to Do.

The end of the passage I hear as a reminder: God can remake you, so let him. God is faithful, so know you are his flock. God is committed and therefor you are called to be too. And all of that, to me, is marvelous.

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Matthew 21.33-40

“Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”

Well, woof. Right? I read that and my initial thought was “Who do I identify with? I mean clearly it’s the tenants and who wants to do that?“ So I put it away... ish. I went on some walks with it. And somehow the watchtower image led me to “Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul” and I had a great wandering moment of worship that seemed somewhat avoidant and off topic for the assignment but was great for my soul. But I came back to it the night before I was supposed to turn in this little reflection and immediately thought “surely there’s another way to... nope... just nope”. And so then you know I put it away again and sent an email where I confessed that I had had some busy days and would be late. But here we are and the time has come to just. Do the thing.

“The harvest is plenty and the workers are few.” Hadn’t I done the thing... hadn’t I been faithful? And when God arrived or sent messengers I had surely listened? And the answer is sure. Mostly... in large matters.

I spent my twenties planting churches with my friends, read all the right books, believed all the right things, and honestly had beautiful and meaningful encounters with God that changed my life and changed the lives of those around me. I would never negate that. God moved so mightily in our midst. But I can now see the small moments where I missed Jesus... where I was too busy “tilling” the soil of the earth God gave me to see that God had sent the son. And these are probably moments where I needed Jesus the most. They were quiet moments where I needed to hear that nothing could separate from the love of God, not even the expectations of my brothers and sisters in Christ. Or really anything... and yes I’m aware that the tenants are a little more rough and tumble than that and yes it’s prophetic moment for the world about the coming violence Jesus will experience.

But frequently I can see the places where I ignore Jesus and in some ways that is its own violence. Where I don’t take the correction of receiving his love. A correction my life needs... and if this is a parable about God’s sending love and correction and the propensity to ignore/rebel/insert any word for what you do in the face of that, then this is where I land. It’s a helpful reminder —I guess— even if the parable gives me the “woof” feeling and I walk around for a week-plus avoiding it. It’s a helpful reminder to remember to pause and listen and see what God is actually trying to say. Maybe it is a “keep tilling” or maybe it’s a “put it down. And let’s take a walk.” Who knows?

You can listen to the reading and reflection by clicking here.

Jeremiah 17.5-10

Thus says the Lord: Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength, whose hearts turn away from the Lord.They shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when relief comes. They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land. Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit. The heart is devious above all else; it is perverse— who can understand it? I the Lord test the mind and search the heart, to give to all according to their ways, according to the fruit of their doings.

Life gets more complicated all the time doesn't it? If it's not figuring out some new mystifying technology, it's figuring out how to protect yourself and your loved ones from the newest plague. You also have to figure out how to deal with so many other humans who have amazingly strong opinions about so many things. Even for the "doers" in this world, it can get overwhelming. Then here comes Jeremiah's words of wisdom. I'll admit that I was initially turned off when he starts off by talking about being "cursed" - but I read on and we got to the tree.

Trees just quietly stand there and trust through all seasons. They house the birds and squirrels. They shade even those who don't deserve it. Even naked their silhouettes against the winter sky take my breath away. The roots reach down and the limbs reach up and they quietly produce fruit and just do what they need to do. They wait, they stand and they trust.

God, help me to quiet down, look up and listen carefully. Help me to reach further down into your unending love and turn palms up as I receive your warmth and carefully trust day after day no matter what turmoil is going on. Thanks for these words Jeremiah.