God-With-Us

Rev. Ellen Alston

Lent had scarcely begun when our world was rocked by the news of the earthquake and tsunami that have devastated our brothers and sisters in Japan, and the unfolding aftershock events just keep coming in waves. These 40 days of discipline and discovery seem barely a blip in time compared to the tenacity it will take for all affected to find their footing and be well on the road to recovery. I find myself taking less for granted the generous gifts of waking and breath, of a place to sit and rest and eat and be warmed, of relationship and community. My heart aches for those who have lost loved ones, or who do not even know how or where or when their loved ones may be found. In such a time, it is easy to ask, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me/us/them?”

I often recall and return for refuge to the words that emerged on billboards and newspaper ads in the days after 9/11/2001 (thanks to Igniting Ministry’s media messages!), nearly a decade ago: “Fear is not the only force at work in the world today.”

During the bombing raids of WWII, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, "Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow." (Linn, Dennis et al, Sleeping With Bread, p.l)

This introduction to a book about a spiritual practice called “The Examen” reminds us of the power of holding, or reconnecting, with what gives us life. The basic framework of the examen is to ask at the end of each day “What gave me life and joy today?” and “What brought me grief and pain today?” By lifting up in prayer each of these experiences, perhaps the outer edges of what we can see, we are walking with God around the perimeter of the life we know, which puts us in a place to see further beyond into what God is really about in our lives and in our world.

In the presence of “strangers” whom we welcome or who extend their hands to us, in the rhythm of footsteps that join us along the way, in the blessed-ness of all that sustains us, in care given or received in time of need, in the eyes of those who share with us the meal and the journey, may we glimpse – and learn – and even experience - something more of the Jesus who is made known to us in the breaking of the bread.