The way I write and think today is different than it was years ago. I don’t claim it is better — only more seasoned, shaped by experience and tempered by time. Yet one thing has remained constant: my appreciation for the unknown. Chronos time — the measurable, scheduled flow of days — has shaped my views of the church, community, and world. Seminary and ongoing study have given me a quantitative framework for ministry. But when Chronos becomes our only lens, it can drown out Kairos: those opportune, grace-filled moments when God breaks through in ways that cannot be planned or measured. God speaks in both kinds of time — in the steady rhythm of our days and in the sudden moments of significance. But I have always felt drawn to the God who teaches through surprise, the God who invites us to live into questions rather than cling to answers. I consider myself a Christian mystic, even though my life does not always reflect that claim as faithfully as I wish. Still, I recognize those Kairos moments when God reveals something beyond my comprehension — moments that remind me of the beauty of mystery and the joy of resting in a presence that exceeds understanding. If I can say one thing with confidence, it is this: God loves you — fully, fiercely, and without condition. Not because of what you have done, not because of how you feel about yourself, and not because of who you may become. God loves you in this present moment, exactly as you are. May we learn to trust the God who meets us in both Chronos and Kairos — and may we find peace in the holy unknown, where God continues to speak. I will close this short message with a song by John Michael Talbot, T he Spirit of God is Upon Me Father Dave+
by Fr. David Madsen Spiritual habits rarely begin easily. Wisdom has said this for centuries; the beginning of discipline is always the hardest step (cf. Proverbs 1:5 ). And anyone who has tried to build a spiritual practice knows the truth of another old insight: habits are fragile at first, but the longer you keep them, the harder they are to break (cf. Meister Eckhart thoughts about starting and keeping spiritual practice ) We live in a world overflowing with books, blogs, and guides on prayer, meditation, and spiritual rhythms. But where does someone actually begin? I’ve learned that the best place is not a book, it’s a person. Think of someone whose life carries the quiet weight of prayer. If you have a spiritual director, or a trusted guide, ask them. If there is a pastor or spiritual leader whose rule of life seems rooted in practice, ask for a conversation. In my humble opinion, there is no “right” or “wrong” way to pray. Prayer is communion with God, sometimes with words, sometimes without. Jesus himself makes this clear in the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector ( Luke 18:9–14 ). One man stands tall, proud of his religious performance. The other sits in the corner, beating his chest, whispering, “God, be merciful to me.” And Jesus says it plainly: that man, the one crying out for help, is the prayer God listens to. Over the last thirty years, I’ve tried many practices. Some stayed with me, some faded, but one has carried me since before seminary. Yes, there are days I miss, but I try to keep those to a minimum. Experience has taught me that the longer you keep a spiritual practice, the more it keeps you. So if you feel a desire rising in you to begin a spiritual practice, don’t dismiss it. You didn’t invent that longing. I believe the Holy Spirit is already stirring in your heart. That stirring itself is prayer, God’s own prayer in you, drawing you toward communion. And that is where every spiritual habit begins. I will close with a song by Mary Chapin Carpenter, I have a need for solitude.
by Fr. Michael Plekon You probably know that July 4 was NOT the actual day of the birth of America as an independent nation. The Declaration of Independence was presented on July 1, 1776 and signed the next day. President John Adams always held either of those two dates should be celebrated as the founding date. Be that as it may, July 4 became the birth date and here we are, 250 years later. You have heard many thoughts about the 250th anniversary happening at this moment in our history. The presidentially supported “official” celebrations on the Mall in Washington have been underwhelming. Some have chosen to talk more about their special issues, and grievances. Complaining has become part of the regular public discourse in the US. “God bless the USA” is taken as kind of national anthem for its glorification of our land without the slightest reservation or notice of what’s been done poorly. You can only patriotically praise the country, though the loudest promotors have a list of things about which they are very angry. In the more distant past, parades, tall ships, speeches and music made for upbeat celebrations. With flags and red, white and blue bunting on the streets and buildings, there was a clear positive, patriotic feeling to the Fourth. Most of us remember barbecues and picnics, gatherings of families and neighbors, and of course the fireworks. A few have urged us to take a moment to reflect on what an amazing experiment this America has been. In the spring, PBS broadcast Ken Burns’ excellent documentary series on the Revolution, where it came from, how it led to a deadly war, and finished with the Continental Congress at last agreeing to a Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights for a new nation. Burns’ series was a revelation, even for those of us who thought we knew the history. For me, the isolation and insulation of the colonies from each other, their ignorance of even their nearest neighboring colony, the sheer diversity of religious, political and economic ways of life made it exceedingly difficult for the lot of them to come together and take action. Many in the colonies were loyalists to the King and could not imagine not being His Majesty’s subjects, citizens of a great nation with great history of law, culture and belief in human rights (for some, mainly white males). Yet, convinced there could be a future as a free land, they overcame suspicions, prejudice, and sheer ignorance of each other to start behaving as a community, a nation united “in the pursuit of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” as the Declaration puts it. The ability to live free of distant rulers, and to be able to determine their own laws and form of government were central but not the only truths that they found self-evident. They would be appalled at some of what is said and done in America now. As former British citizens they put a great value on being a nation of laws, not political factions dominated by a leader or grievances and issues. They owned slaves, had profound religious and cultural prejudices, this cannot be forgotten. There was little space for you in 1776 America if you were Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, indigenous people or persons of color, or women for that matter. Despite settlers from Sweden, France, Germany, the Netherlands, and the presence of Spaniards in New Spain, those who represented the colonies were all male, white, and mostly Protestant. But even here, while most came from Anglican/Episcopal Congregational, Presbyterian and Quaker churches, some were outside traditional Christianity, like Jefferson, Franklin and Adams. A few were identified with churches but rarely if ever attended. So much for the claim that America was founded as a Christian nation. The 56 delegates who signed would have said no to this. The closer one looks at those who took the step to declare independence and start a new government and country, the more one sees discernment and commitment to change. Yet even after this groundbreaking start, there would be deep disagreements, as the arguments among them—Jefferson, Hamilton, Madison, Franklin-- and the demands of fighting a war ensued. Put simply, the founders were a mix of great ideals, contentious disagreement, and sometimes petty prejudices. This would prove true later when the country split in the Civil War. It continues to this day, even though we have come together and done the seemingly impossible, as in opposed the Axis of Germany and Japan in WWII. Going forward, we can be encouraged by the founders, for even in their often messy humanity, more often the good, the beautiful and the true won out. They were able to identify the protections, rights and necessary checks and balances for a national government as well as find the local state versions of the same. So, in our brief moment of celebration now, we should be grateful for what they were able to accomplish, but as we move forward, we need to hold on to the best of what they stood for, no matter how other voices may drone these out. We have always been a diverse people, a nation of immigrants, a community that displays many religious, cultural and social differences. But there is something that can hold us together as Americans, something more than apple pie and, baseball both of which I dearly love. Happy 250th birthday America, happy Fourth.
The way I write and think today is different than it was years ago. I don’t claim it is better — only more seasoned, shaped by experience and tempered by time. Yet one thing has remained constant: my appreciation for the unknown. Chronos time — the measurable, scheduled flow of days — has shaped my views of the church, community, and world. Seminary and ongoing study have given me a quantitative framework for ministry. But when Chronos becomes our only lens, it can drown out Kairos: those opportune, grace-filled moments when God breaks through in ways that cannot be planned or measured. God speaks in both kinds of time — in the steady rhythm of our days and in the sudden moments of significance. But I have always felt drawn to the God who teaches through surprise, the God who invites us to live into questions rather than cling to answers. I consider myself a Christian mystic, even though my life does not always reflect that claim as faithfully as I wish. Still, I recognize those Kairos moments when God reveals something beyond my comprehension — moments that remind me of the beauty of mystery and the joy of resting in a presence that exceeds understanding. If I can say one thing with confidence, it is this: God loves you — fully, fiercely, and without condition. Not because of what you have done, not because of how you feel about yourself, and not because of who you may become. God loves you in this present moment, exactly as you are. May we learn to trust the God who meets us in both Chronos and Kairos — and may we find peace in the holy unknown, where God continues to speak. I will close this short message with a song by John Michael Talbot, T he Spirit of God is Upon Me Father Dave+
by Fr. David Madsen Spiritual habits rarely begin easily. Wisdom has said this for centuries; the beginning of discipline is always the hardest step (cf. Proverbs 1:5 ). And anyone who has tried to build a spiritual practice knows the truth of another old insight: habits are fragile at first, but the longer you keep them, the harder they are to break (cf. Meister Eckhart thoughts about starting and keeping spiritual practice ) We live in a world overflowing with books, blogs, and guides on prayer, meditation, and spiritual rhythms. But where does someone actually begin? I’ve learned that the best place is not a book, it’s a person. Think of someone whose life carries the quiet weight of prayer. If you have a spiritual director, or a trusted guide, ask them. If there is a pastor or spiritual leader whose rule of life seems rooted in practice, ask for a conversation. In my humble opinion, there is no “right” or “wrong” way to pray. Prayer is communion with God, sometimes with words, sometimes without. Jesus himself makes this clear in the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector ( Luke 18:9–14 ). One man stands tall, proud of his religious performance. The other sits in the corner, beating his chest, whispering, “God, be merciful to me.” And Jesus says it plainly: that man, the one crying out for help, is the prayer God listens to. Over the last thirty years, I’ve tried many practices. Some stayed with me, some faded, but one has carried me since before seminary. Yes, there are days I miss, but I try to keep those to a minimum. Experience has taught me that the longer you keep a spiritual practice, the more it keeps you. So if you feel a desire rising in you to begin a spiritual practice, don’t dismiss it. You didn’t invent that longing. I believe the Holy Spirit is already stirring in your heart. That stirring itself is prayer, God’s own prayer in you, drawing you toward communion. And that is where every spiritual habit begins. I will close with a song by Mary Chapin Carpenter, I have a need for solitude.
by Fr. Michael Plekon You probably know that July 4 was NOT the actual day of the birth of America as an independent nation. The Declaration of Independence was presented on July 1, 1776 and signed the next day. President John Adams always held either of those two dates should be celebrated as the founding date. Be that as it may, July 4 became the birth date and here we are, 250 years later. You have heard many thoughts about the 250th anniversary happening at this moment in our history. The presidentially supported “official” celebrations on the Mall in Washington have been underwhelming. Some have chosen to talk more about their special issues, and grievances. Complaining has become part of the regular public discourse in the US. “God bless the USA” is taken as kind of national anthem for its glorification of our land without the slightest reservation or notice of what’s been done poorly. You can only patriotically praise the country, though the loudest promotors have a list of things about which they are very angry. In the more distant past, parades, tall ships, speeches and music made for upbeat celebrations. With flags and red, white and blue bunting on the streets and buildings, there was a clear positive, patriotic feeling to the Fourth. Most of us remember barbecues and picnics, gatherings of families and neighbors, and of course the fireworks. A few have urged us to take a moment to reflect on what an amazing experiment this America has been. In the spring, PBS broadcast Ken Burns’ excellent documentary series on the Revolution, where it came from, how it led to a deadly war, and finished with the Continental Congress at last agreeing to a Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights for a new nation. Burns’ series was a revelation, even for those of us who thought we knew the history. For me, the isolation and insulation of the colonies from each other, their ignorance of even their nearest neighboring colony, the sheer diversity of religious, political and economic ways of life made it exceedingly difficult for the lot of them to come together and take action. Many in the colonies were loyalists to the King and could not imagine not being His Majesty’s subjects, citizens of a great nation with great history of law, culture and belief in human rights (for some, mainly white males). Yet, convinced there could be a future as a free land, they overcame suspicions, prejudice, and sheer ignorance of each other to start behaving as a community, a nation united “in the pursuit of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” as the Declaration puts it. The ability to live free of distant rulers, and to be able to determine their own laws and form of government were central but not the only truths that they found self-evident. They would be appalled at some of what is said and done in America now. As former British citizens they put a great value on being a nation of laws, not political factions dominated by a leader or grievances and issues. They owned slaves, had profound religious and cultural prejudices, this cannot be forgotten. There was little space for you in 1776 America if you were Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, indigenous people or persons of color, or women for that matter. Despite settlers from Sweden, France, Germany, the Netherlands, and the presence of Spaniards in New Spain, those who represented the colonies were all male, white, and mostly Protestant. But even here, while most came from Anglican/Episcopal Congregational, Presbyterian and Quaker churches, some were outside traditional Christianity, like Jefferson, Franklin and Adams. A few were identified with churches but rarely if ever attended. So much for the claim that America was founded as a Christian nation. The 56 delegates who signed would have said no to this. The closer one looks at those who took the step to declare independence and start a new government and country, the more one sees discernment and commitment to change. Yet even after this groundbreaking start, there would be deep disagreements, as the arguments among them—Jefferson, Hamilton, Madison, Franklin-- and the demands of fighting a war ensued. Put simply, the founders were a mix of great ideals, contentious disagreement, and sometimes petty prejudices. This would prove true later when the country split in the Civil War. It continues to this day, even though we have come together and done the seemingly impossible, as in opposed the Axis of Germany and Japan in WWII. Going forward, we can be encouraged by the founders, for even in their often messy humanity, more often the good, the beautiful and the true won out. They were able to identify the protections, rights and necessary checks and balances for a national government as well as find the local state versions of the same. So, in our brief moment of celebration now, we should be grateful for what they were able to accomplish, but as we move forward, we need to hold on to the best of what they stood for, no matter how other voices may drone these out. We have always been a diverse people, a nation of immigrants, a community that displays many religious, cultural and social differences. But there is something that can hold us together as Americans, something more than apple pie and, baseball both of which I dearly love. Happy 250th birthday America, happy Fourth.
