Want to enjoy life? Then give up what you really love.
Yep, you read that right. That's what Dr. Christine Carter, Berkeley prof and author of Raising Happiness, suggests. "I know," she writes, "that depriving yourself doesn’t seem fun, but entitlement and adaptation undermine appreciation." She then goes on to point out that "research shows that we enjoy things more when we give them up for a little while. For example, people who gave up chocolate for seven days enjoyed it more at the end of the week than people who indulged all week."
Interestingly, she then concludes that "This might be why Lent is a common religious practice!"
Perhaps it is a mistake to think of Lent as a misguided religious impulse to punish ourselves. Maybe, just maybe, this ancient practice turns out to a far better path to delight than our current approaches built on indulgence.
Even if they have kept the faith. Even if they have fought the good fight. Even if they have lived a good life and left a legacy much cherished... The holidays are a particularly tough time for those who have lost somebody dear to them.
Or are in the process of doing so...
So it is that we ended up in a hangar at Leesburg Airport at o' dark thirty on Friday morning. With single digit temperatures, the first order of the day was to warm up the plane's engine so we could get the prop going.
Not too much longer after that we were in the air, flying over the mountains. Our passenger slept.
The ski slopes do have snow, and there were people skiing below. The incongruence between those who are enjoying life as normal, and those who are not, is always startling to me.
The mountains pulled the clouds down, the heavens giving evidence of unrest.
We arrived at safely at our destination, and then later, safely home. Our passenger had a good visit.
I share this only to say how much we need other. Really, it's the only way any of us get through. And even if we are in one of those rare and beautiful moments in life that bring so much joy that they inoculate us from any sense of need, there is someone who needs us.
Whoever your people are, whatever your tribe, gather with them this holiday season. Even if you've been away for a very long time, there has never been a better occasion to come home.
“Do you still believe in God?”
That was the question Fr. Dick Bowman asked me privately when I was nearing the end of the process of becoming an Episcopal priest. I was young then—full of fire and certainty and not a little arrogance, though I did not yet recognize it as such. I did not understand the question.
Today, on the 30th anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood, I do. The day was chosen to coincide with the celebration of the life of St. Andrew the Fisherman on Nov 30. I expect the reason is obvious. But had I known then what I know now, I might’ve chosen St. Thomas the Doubter, celebrated Dec 21st.
I do still believe. And I hope that at least little bit of the fire still burns in my belly; if it ever goes out or even grows dim, it’s probably time to hang up my collar. But these days certainty looks a lot more like a sin than a virtue, breeding self-righteousness, and I do my best to repent of it.
And arrogance… For reasons I don’t fully understand, it is so hard to recognize let alone root out. I can only say that life, and maybe even God, have a way of humbling us when humility is needed. There has been no escaping it. The truth is, though I will always regret the pain this has caused others, there are few things for which I am more grateful.
It is in our nature as human beings to want to know our creator. Certainly this pertains to God, or whatever it is that has brought us all into being. But more immediately, I think, it pertains to our parents. Who are these mysterious people who chose to give us birth?
With our parents, we are fortunate that some of the answer we are looking for can often be found directly. Most of us get to spend at least some time with our parents. We can talk with our mom and dad, or if they are gone, with others who knew them. But time is limited, and parents frequently would rather hear more about their kids than talk about themselves. So, perhaps like with the question of God, much of what we would know about our parents must be put together through a sort of sleuthing, of looking for clues and then piecing them together in a story that seems to fit.
In regard to our fathers, I have been thinking that one of the places we find such clues is in a man’s garage. This thought has come to me as I have had the opportunity to visit my parents this week. In the evenings, after my parents have gone to bed, I stand in my dad’s garage and feel his presence.
Hanging above his work bench is a poem. It writes of the lunar landing, in which my dad played a part. It also speaks of Christmas. I mostly know my dad as a man of faith, but many of the things in the garage are a reminder that by education, career, and interest, he is also very much a man of science.
Like this poem, his life stands as an eloquent blending of the two.
In space the lonely missile spins its way,
Beyond the earth’s soft breathing atmosphere
Beyond the note of song the wind’s wild play
The cumulus, the rain’s recurrent tear
Throughout the sky of orbits hung by One
Who saw his handiwork and called it good
There moves this metal deed which man has done
I tremble in the name of brotherhood
For I remember how another night
A new star pierced the heavens from above
Not in the name of power or of might
But in the name of His eternal love
May satellite and star be reconciled
And bring us nearer the waiting child.
--Christie Lund Coles
I should know the answer to this.
I grew up around cows. From our front yard in Monroeville, PA, we could see cattle from Kuehn's Dairy grazing on a hill side across the valley. One of the ways I paid for college was by working at Turner's Dairy, and of course there were lots of cows there as well.
So I really should know the answer to this question, and frankly it embarrasses me that I don't: Are the cows above dangerous?
Here's my problem. I fish a little stream that runs through the pasture where these cows graze. When they see me, several of them come running for me. I don't think they'd actually hurt me. They probably just want to be fed. But I'd rather not discover I'm wrong on this.
Take this cow for instance. It's a young bull. He made a bee line fore me as soon as he saw me. If I stand my ground (with an electric fence between us) he acts afraid. But the second I turn my back, he charges.
The problem is compounded by the fact that the best pool on the stream is just over a hill side that is just at the far edge of this picture. There is no fence around it. It definitely has some nice fish in it.
So... continue to avoid these cows, or just fish right through them?
Friday was such a beautiful day I decided to head out and do some evening fishing. Do you see who was waiting for me when I got to the stream? Maybe enlarging the pic a bit will help.
Unfortunately, because I brought a camera that is good for underwater close-ups of fish and not for pictures of wildlife further away, this is not a very good shot. It does not even begin to capture how adorable that little ball of fuzz with two coal-black eyes staring at me was. I wish you could have seen it.
There were two fledgling owls when I first came upon this pool, but when I tried to get a bit closer one flew away. This was the best I could do. As soon as I took another step closer, this one too flew up into a tree.
Since we most commonly see barred owls, I assumed that's what this was. I didn't stop to think about how big even this baby bird was. But then I heard some commotion high up in a tree to my left and saw one of its parents.
Sadly, this is another crop of a pic that wasn't that good to begin with. But do you see the large tufts on the top of that owl's head? It's a great horned owl--the first one I have ever seen in the wild.
And because I know you are wondering--yes, I did catch some fish.
Dear Friends,
To me, wellness speaks to all aspects of one's well-being. Eating smart, exercising, and maintaining a healthy spiritual life contribute to one's well-being and confidence. I believe this begins when we are children.
Last February, we wanted to try something new at St. Matt’s. The idea was to show kids how to embrace a healthy lifestyle. We wanted to reach out to the community and show that St. Matthew's cares about their overall wellness. And, we wanted it to be fun. So, Children's Wellness Day was born!
Last year was a huge success. Over 200 children came to participate in exercise classes, play games, and run through the 30-foot obstacle course. Parents were able to sit back and watch their kids have fun while they learned about health and wellness. Many of the attendees had never been in our church before, but they left that day with a smile on their faces.
It was such a great day … we're doing it again!
This Saturday, we are going to have lots of fun activities for kids like yoga, Zumba, a 30-foot obstacle course, jump rope, and an inflatable basketball court. Additionally, LAJ Foods will be here with their delicious plant-based soups, Drama Kids of Loudoun County and Kids First Swim School will be here to talk with parents too.
Join us as we get out of the house and get active!
Please bring a non-perishable food item to help support our local Backpack Buddies program.
Thank you for your support and we'll see you Saturday.
~Tracey Kelly
Whether you are a believer in God or not, have you ever at some point in your life prayed for something? Have you had the experience in a moment—any moment, no matter how fleeting, or whether you continued to believe in such a moment or not—that God granted your prayer? For many of us, this creates one of the biggest God-problems of all. Here’s what I mean.
Recently my wife had a tooth problem. I care about my wife, and personally I believe God cares about her too. So I prayed the problem would resolve itself without major complications. Now let’s just suppose that all of a sudden all of Linda’s pain went away and her tooth was a good as new with no further dental attention or procedures needed. Great, right?
But… what kind of God answers that prayer, which in the grand scheme of thing is relatively minor, and lets a starving child die? How would such a Being fit any of our definitions of good? I benefit. I gain. I receive. But what of the person whose plight is so much worse than mine who does not? It is problems like this that lead JB Phillips to write,
Many men and women today are living, often with inner dissatisfaction, without any faith in God at all. This is not because they are particularly wicked or selfish or, as the old-fashioned would say, “godless,” but because they have not found with their adult minds a God big enough to “account for” life, big enough to “fit in with” the new scientific age, big enough to command their highest admiration and respect, and consequently their willing co-operation.
Is there a way out of problems like these? Can the issues behind them really be resolved with any kind of integrity and intellectual honesty?
That's what we are asking in our current sermon series at St. Matt's. And this week we ask one of the toughest questions of all. Where is God in the Holocaust, the killing fields, the genocides, the terrorism and religious violence of our age?
Oh, and by the way: my wife needed a root canal...
As you might expect of a priest, I spent several years formally studying the doctrine of God from a wide variety of philosophical, anthropological, sociological, psychological, and religious perspectives. I was pretty young at the time, and I think one of the follies of youth can be a certain hubris. At the end of my studies, I believed I had God pretty well figured out.
But there was... a problem.
The God I thought I had figured out didn’t really hold up.
Some of my beliefs began to feel false. Doubts grew. That’s not an easy place to be if you are a priest.
At the time I only saw two choices: believe what I had been told was true, or become an unbeliever. Neither felt right, and so I did what I think most of us do in these situations: I ignored my discomfort and the issues behind it.
That’s not a workable long-term strategy, of course. With time I realized I was going to have to think more deeply about God. Initially, this felt like a betrayal. I was ashamed of myself for not having the strength and courage to uphold what I thought I had promised to uphold. My younger self would not trust my older self, and would think I have gone far astray. That has been something of a hard pill to swallow.
But the simple truth is: I was wrong. Sometimes terribly wrong, and terribly wrong about very important things. I expect I still am. But here's the thing. At this stage in life, as much as I appreciate my youthful passion, I do not think I would fully trust anyone my age who has not come to a similar place on at least some subject or treasured belief.
There is one thing has not changed. In fact, this belief has only grown. It is the belief that there is no question more important than the question of God, and in particular of who God is. Everything I have ever studied, seen, heard, and experienced affirms this.
And so I invite you to join me at St. Matt's on a journey. For the next five weekends in Lent, we'll explore together a more accurate (and life-giving) knowledge of the God who Is. This isn't an exercise in dogmatism, but discovery. I do hope you'll come along!
Learning to spin deer hair is the next skill on my fly-tying list. There is something about this stage that makes me happy just to look at it.
The next stage is shaping the head with a razor blade. It's fun letting loose one's inner sculptor.
There's still plenty of room for improvement, but it ends up looking something like this.
It does make a bit of a mess.