Puzzling Through

I enjoy crossword puzzles. I usually have one on the go at any given time; I enjoy the quirky clues (the only monosyllabic US state name is Maine), the trivia (the Virgin Mary’s mother is Anne), the wordplay (a many-hit Wonder is Stevie). I also enjoy the mental exercise of trying to fit the words together, in ways that make sense. As more clues fill in, the letters provide further insight into my understanding (and being able to complete!) the puzzle. And an answer key is handy at times, too! There are references I simply don’t know – obscure puns, or based on timing or geography (a UK-based puzzle with 1920s political references, for example) – and even the extra letters don’t help.

Doing these puzzles is a bit like reading the bible. Some of the scriptures we know – and well! Some of them surprise us when they pop up in our daily office. Some of them we *think* we know, but then we find a piece we’ve overlooked before, and it opens up a new way to perceive the word of God. Some of the references may lead us to a concordance, or a commentary, or deeper prayer to discern how the voice of God is speaking to us.

Unlike a puzzle, however, with finite scope (and that answer key!) the bible is offering a different type of learning. It is always inviting us into deeper reflection and intentionality as we seek to deepen our spirituality. We’re using the new knowledge and insight to apply matters of importance to our lives and relationships. Which, in my opinion, are more important than getting the right letters in the right boxes!

...Pass it on!

Last week I was gifted with some books. Anyone who knows me will recognise the excitement of this – I love books! They came from someone who had finished with them, and decided rather than to just gather on a shelf, she passed them on.

One of them has already been added to my “pass it on” pile – a collection of books that have been read, enjoyed, and are ready to make a new home.

Passing along books provides so many benefits. Aside from the obvious ones of saving money and environmental concerns, there is a social benefit to this practice. It gives me opportunity to discover people with similar tastes. It leads to conversations about books (the good, the bad, and the weird!). It provides the chance to try out a new author or genre, or to revisit one long abandoned.

It also reinforces the nature of community. Especially at a time when we are in the process of re-discovering and re-building what it means to be community (from the pre-COVID realities that we were ready to be done with, to the end-of-COVID aspects we want to retain, to the post-COVID dreams that we have yet to realise) – especially now, we can seek for a common ground, we can strengthen existing bonds, we can establish new patterns and explore new opportunities.

What a tremendous gift a book can bring – the story within the pages, and the story of the journey.

Reflections on a Cup Half-Full

     I’ve recently seen a number of social media posts reminding the reader about a cup half-full – that however you look at it, the important thing to remember is that the cup is refillable.

Yes!

I’ve spent some time thinking about these metaphorical cups.

Another perspective to consider is the size of the cup… when we’re children, we drink from smaller cups, and so the process of re-filling takes less. As adults, our cups tend to be larger, so the same amount of filling would not provide the fullness that we seek. The faith that filled our spiritual cups as children is great; but we need more as we grapple with the increasing complexities of our lives. Our theology grows, our spirituality matures, our needs also increase – and thus our opportunity to identify and seek that spiritual nourishment also should increase.

Sam Lefkowitz also reminds “when asked if my cup is half-full or half-empty, my only response is that I am thankful that I *have* a cup.” It’s great to be grateful for the starting point – not just of having a cup but of the filling process already being present. And what a privilege to be sufficiently aware that not everyone has a cup, not everyone wants a cup, not everyone could even articulate the purpose of a cup.

And, of course, I go to the cup of scriptures. The cup of blessing, the cup of connection, the cup of community. The cup of psalm 23, which in the BCP “shall be full” (p. 357) and in the BAS “is running over” (pg. 731). The cup that God is continually filling for us, that we may drink from it, and be sated.

The same cup, however, is the cup that Jesus drinks deeply from in Matthew 26, that he asks God to pass from him – not as an avoidance of the bitterness of his situation, but as an acceptance of it. And, as N.T.Wright explains, as a means of ensuring that the cup would be refreshed only with new wine for those who would come after Jesus. The cup was for the community, and the person of Jesus drank deeply of what was presented.

There’s a lot to consider about the cup. May the cup remind us not only of our own individual connection with the cup, but of our connection to one another and to God through the offerings of the cup. And may we drink deeply of all that God is offering, that we may grow through it.

Standing by, or by-stander?

Screenshot of Photo by David Lipnowski/Getty Images

    There's a picture from a hockey game this week that’s been making the rounds… as one played was injured on the ice and there was a scuffle between other players, a player from the opposing team from the injured man intentionally inserted himself between the fracas and the unconscious player. He had his back to the fight, his arms outstretched, as he was doing all he could to prevent the fight from spilling over onto the downed player. 

     It caught a lot of attention in the sports world, and I saw it a lot in my social media feed (which, I acknowledge, is heavily influenced by my personal hockey preference – which was one of the teams involved!). As it turned out, the fight dispersed, the human barrier was not hurt, and thankfully the player’s injuries are minor. 

     Point being; this player did not need to do this. He could have stayed out of it, he could have engaged in the fight, etc. Yet he put himself in-between, with his back to the fight, as it was the best way to protect someone who needed help. It was dangerous, it was fearless, it was dignified. And it happened VERY fast.

     It made me ponder how we might all reflect on such actions – from a hockey game even! – into our own lives. If we see someone being accosted on the street, would we intervene? If we learn of someone being slandered, do we speak against the defamation? If we witness bullying, do we step in, even if it may hurt? 

     So often, we just stop – as bystanders, we don’t know how to get involved without getting hurt. Too often, we find it easier to allow abuse to happen rather than put ourselves at risk. Yet I find myself returning to the hockey players’ actions, and wondering how to apply that deep-rooted sense of helping others to my own life. 

     I will continue to pray on it, asking God to help, to remind me of the benefits of the risk of faith, the commitment of community, and the power of doing the right thing. Are we, as a society and as a church, ready to embrace the call to do the right thing?