Romans 12:2-12 "Many Voices"

         If you were to drive the highways and byways of the Deep South here in the United States – you know:  tobacco country, the Bible Belt – you would likely come across large billboards sprouting up out of the earth, injecting themselves into the roadside landscape.  However, you will not see the ruggedly handsome Marlboro Man in his Stetson hat anymore because you can no longer advertise cigarettes and tobacco so blatantly.  However, you can still hawk religion. 

         And so you are quite likely to come across a billboard like this:  A solid black background and stark white letters that read, perhaps, “We have to talk” with the messenger being God herself – or probably himself since you are in the Deep South after all. 

         Imagine:  God proclaiming that we have to talk.  Would that it could be so simple!  As Methodist pastor Charles Reeb noted, “I mean, wouldn't it be nice if, when we were ever confused about something, all we would have to do is look at a billboard and find the answer or look up into the sky and there would be something written in the clouds? Or what about the radio? That would be great!  We could just tune in … and God's voice would break in for each of us and say,  ‘This is what I want you to do.’  A lot of us would love to hear from God in such a clear way.”

         Now, I do not mean to sound snarky or cynical.  After all, I do believe that God (or Spirit or Ultimate Being, whatever you call this sacred and eternal presence) that God still speaks in our world, mostly about God’s dream for the world – though certainly not on billboards or the radio or by skywriting or even tapping us individually on the shoulder with a personalized message. 

         I believe instead that God speaks to us through the Gospel’s call for compassion and justice and reconciliation and radical hospitality that we believe was characterized best in the person and ministry of Jesus.  More than that, I believe that that same Gospel message has been etched onto the minds and hearts of all of us sitting here this morning, we who still call ourselves Christian in an ever more secularized world.  However, because of this world that we live in and the strong messages it sends, I also believe that the voice of Jesus is not the only voice we hear. 

         I would submit that all of us have competing voices in our heads insisting on what is right and wrong, good and bad, black and white.  And many of them are really seductive too. 

         A confusing cacophony of sound: Part of being human, I guess, at least in this complex day and age.  Life never seems simple because in those ethically and morally challenging situations that we all face everyday when we most need to hear the voice of God, the voice of the Gospel, the voice of Jesus, it is precisely at that moment that those other voices become a rich crescendo swirling about us. 

         And too often their endless chatter drowns out the voice we need most to hear above all the other voices:  “Blessed are the merciful”. “Feed my sheep”. “Love one another”.  If only we could clearly and distinctly hear that voice, surely we would know where our commitment lies, what we ought to be doing, where our life should lead us.

         There was a young man who won tickets to the Super Bowl, and he was understandably excited.  However, his excitement lessened when he arrived at the game and realized that his seat was in the back of the stadium and all the way up at the top.  He was in the nosebleed section, no doubt about it.

          However, when the game started, this young man looked through his binoculars and saw an open seat, down in front, next to the field, right on the 50 yard line.

He immediately raced down the stairs and approached the man sitting next to the empty seat and asked if it was taken.  The man replied, “No.”

         The young man was so surprised.  So he asked, “How could someone pass up a seat like this?” 

         The older gentleman responded, “That’s my wife’s seat.  We’ve been to every Super Bowl together since the day we were married, but she has passed away.” 

         The young man looked at the older gentleman and said, “Oh, man, I’m sorry to hear that.  But, couldn’t you find a friend or a relative to come with you and at least use the seat?”

         “No,” the older gentleman sadly said, “I wish, but they’re all at the funeral.”

         With all those voices swirling about in our heads, competing for our attention, telling us what our priorities should be and how we ought to live our lives and what path we should follow, how do we distinguish between them? How do we figure out where our commitment lies and what we should do?  Super Bowl? Or funeral?  Sharing?  Or keeping?  Arming our teachers?  Or controlling our guns?

         Where is the voice of God, the voice of the Gospel, the voice of Jesus in all this?  And why is it not clear? 

         It reminds me of a story I heard about how the news of the Battle of Waterloo reached England.  The report from the battle was apparently first carried by sailing ship to the southern coast and then by signal flags from church spire to church spire all the way to London. And when the report was received at Westminster Abbey, the flags on the church began to spell out the message, "Wellington…..defeated…."

         However, before the message could be completed, a heavy pea soup fog rolled in.  Can you picture how, with that heavy fog, a heavy blanket of gloom covered the hearts of the people? Welington…..defeated….” 

         However, when the mist lifted, it became clear that the signal flags of the Abbey had really spelled out a different message – this one triumphant. "Wellington…defeated….,the enemy!"

         Similarly, how do we know when all those other competing voices are fogging our minds, so that the true message that we ought to hear is hidden – or only partially known?  It is an age-old question.  It is a question that the congregations in many of the churches the Apostle Paul founded wrestled with.  And so, perhaps in response, Paul penned the passage we just read that comes from his letter to the church folk in Rome. 

         His conclusion is simple:  “Do not conform to the pattern of this world (no surprise there), but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is.”

         The renewing of your mind:  Paul is saying that it begins in your head – and in your heart.  It begins by listening to all those competing voices - but then putting each one aside when it makes your heart cringe just a bit until the only one left is the one that proclaims…what?  That violence only begets more violence, that the gap between rich and poor is indefensible, that Muslims and Buddhists and Hindus – everyone is held in God’s embrace. 

        However, Paul goes on to say that it is not enough just to think those happy (what we would call) Christian thoughts. Thinking and action need to become one because it is only then that we will be transformed, that we will be Christ-like, that we will be part of God’s dream for the world. It will happen from the inside out.  First, your mind and heart followed by your actions.

         And so it is not enough to sit here on Sunday mornings thinking Christian thoughts and intellectually taking in the Gospel message – though that is an excellent beginning.  In fact, Paul would say that it is only place to begin – and perhaps, I would add, one of the best reasons to be part of a church. 

         However, it is what you will do when you leave here – when your mind has been renewed, as Paul would say.  It is what you will do – the actions you will choose to take - beyond these four walls that ultimately will define you as someone who is following the path of Jesus – or following the way of someone else.  It is not enough to feel transformed here if you continue to be conformed to the spirit of our culture that values personal advancement and rugged individualism over all else. 

         As former President Jimmy Carter once noted:  “"To me faith is not only a noun, but also a verb." (He went on to say), "In Christian tradition, the concept of faith has two interrelated meanings, both implying fidelity: confidence in God and action based on firm belief."

         In this passage, Paul goes on to write about some of those faithful actions – and he gets awfully specific – so listen up:

“…if you give encouraging guidance, be careful that you don’t get bossy; if you’re put in charge, don’t manipulate; if you’re called to give aid to people in distress, keep your eyes open and be quick to respond; if you work with the disadvantaged, don’t let yourself get irritated with them or depressed by them. Keep a smile on your face.

Love from the center of who you are; don’t fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.

Don’t burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder.”

         Yikes!  It’s enough to make you turn away from all this Christian business and find an easier way to get by.

         It is like the man who fell off a cliff, and halfway down, he caught hold of a bush. As he hung high above the ground, he shouted, "Is anybody up there?" Silence.

         Again, he shouted, "Is anybody up there?"

         A voice answered, "Yes, this is God."

         The man yelled frantically, "Please help me!"

         There was another moment of silence. Then God said, "Let go of the bush, and I will catch you."

         There was another long silence as the man looked at the ground far below. Then, he yelled, "Is anybody else up there?"

         Surely sometimes we feel like that man hanging halfway down the cliff.  We do not know where to turn.  We hear so many seductive voices blithering in our head. 

         And yet, we still hang in there.  We still hold on to this Christian business as our rock.  You see, once long ago when we were baptized (a baptism that here in this church we re-affirm every year), we committed ourselves to listening above all to the voice of Jesus and so anchoring our lives to something greater than ourselves, greater than the spirit of our culture.  And I pray that we still have faith that we are being transformed – albeit slowly – and that someday will really live out God’s dream for the world.

         You see, I believe that we have what it takes, with the help of God, within us – to be all God meant for us to be.  It is etched on our hearts.  It is a voice in our heads.

         And I would suggest that, deep in our hearts, we know what is right and good because the voice of God, the voice of Jesus never stops proclaiming to us the essence of the Gospel message.  And if we acknowledge all those other voices we hear and one by one let them go, we will only have one voice left to guide us, and it will be the voice we have been yearning to hear all along. 

         And so, we come to the end of this Lenten season when we have been seeking ways to hear that voice – God’s voice – the Spirit’s voice - above all the other voices. We have sought it in silence and scripture.  We have sought it in the nooks and crannies of prayer walls and in the lighting of candles.  Surely we have sought it in song, in the music we have heard – the pianos and oboes and guitars and ukuleles. 

         As your pastor, I hope you have renewed – or even found for the first time – a way (or ways) to connect with God outside of worship.  My prayer is that you will continue to explore what you have discovered beyond Lent and that you will most patiently and intentionally listen for the voice of God, the voice of Jesus, the voice of the Gospel over all the other voices you will most certainly hear – and that you will have the strength and the courage, with God’s help, to act upon it. 

Psalm 150 - Laetare Sunday

         Many of you know that I grew up in a Congregational church.  Though it was located in New Jersey, in many ways, it mighty just as well have been situated next to Plymouth Rock in Massachusetts, so strong were its congregational roots and traditions. 

         For example, when it came to recognizing church holidays and festivals around this time of year, we did celebrate Palm Sunday.  Everyone received – but no one ever went so far as waving - those long and pointy dried palm fronds that most of the children ended up using as swords.  We also celebrated Easter with lilies, new Spring coats and shoes, and a large assortment of white gloves and flowered hats in the congregation.

         However, we never did much with Lent, that season of preparation before Easter.  I think Lent was considered to be way too close to the papacy.  In middle school and high school, I do recall Catholic friends always “giving up” something for Lent, usually deserts or chocolate, which was probably good for teenaged complexions anyway.  My only recollection of Ash Wednesday was my father coming home from work, commenting tongue-in-cheek that he had seen a lot of people with dirty faces in New York City that day. 

         I was really only exposed to Lent as an important season in the liturgical or church year when I was in seminary.  There I learned that Lent was the solemn 40 days less Sundays that occurred before Easter and was characterized by three foundational pillars: fasting, alms-giving, and large amounts of time spent in prayer – all under the unmentioned umbrella of abstinence in one form or another. 

         One of those years that I spent in New Haven, wanting to understand Lent more experientially, several of us traveled in March to spend a few days at Mount Saviour Monastery, a Benedictine community in Elmira, New York.  At that time, the brothers were quite conservative, especially when it came to women. 

         Only Brother Peter, the Guest Master, was allowed to speak to us (though he was quite friendly).  We had to stay offsite in a small farmhouse run by some local nuns.  We could join in worship but could not sit with the brothers and other male visitors.  We had to remain on stone benches that surrounded the dark rock walls of the round chapel.  But all that was OK – especially the chilly stone benches - because we had come to experience first hand the austerity of the Lenten season. 

         How surprised we were then when Brother Peter invited us to dine with the rest of the community on Thursday evening!  How even more surprised we were when we entered the decorated refectory or dining room! 

         The meal was sumptuous and delicious.  The brothers were all talkative and exceedingly friendly and welcoming.  They were drinking beer, and one of them ended up at the piano banging out tunes with his sister (who happened to be a nun) as we, the monks, and other family members in attendance clapped and merrily sang along.

         That was the night I learned about Laetare:  “Rejoice, O Jerusalem!”  Laetare – and Laetare Sunday – is a not particularly well-known church tradition, but it is over 1000 years old.  It is celebrated most often in Catholic and Anglican circles – though some Protestant traditions have begun to recognize it as well. 

         The day of Laetare falls on the Thursday before the fourth Sunday in Lent.  In short, it is the midpoint of the Lenten season, but is now mostly recognized on that Sunday following - which is, of course, exactly 21 days before Easter – and which is, of course, today. 

         The word “Laetare” means “rejoice” and is reflected in the introit – or song of preparation – traditionally used that day: 

"Rejoice, O Jerusalem: and come together all you that love her: rejoice with joy, you that have been in sorrow: that you may exult and be filled from the breasts of your consolation.”

         And why would anyone need this time to rejoice in the middle of Lent?  Well, imagine yourself a Christian in the 4^th century when the custom of this 40-day Lenten period of abstinence was spreading throughout all of Christendom.  You would have been fasting and on your knees in prayer a good part of that time, and so I suspect that you would be all too ready to rejoice!  

         As theology teacher Michael Heinlein noted, “Laetare Sunday is the Church’s way of giving us a ‘shot in the arm’ as we approach the darkness and horror of the days through Good Friday and Holy Saturday.  It’s an opportunity to savor and keep in the back of our minds what awaits us on Easter Sunday — the reality that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, and that our hearts will always be filled with joy!”

        And so Laetare Sunday is a day of relaxation from the usual Lenten rigors.  It is a day of hope because Easter, at last, is within sight.  It is meant to encourage the faithful to keep plodding along and stay the course through this season of penance. 

         Meant to deepen and enrich our Lenten experience and our understanding of the season, it oozes bittersweet-ness. Laetare juxtaposes the sadness and somberness of the encroaching Holy Week with the joy of Easter.  Interestingly enough, weddings, which were traditionally forbidden during Lent, were allowed on Laetare Sunday.

         The color for Laetare Sunday is not the penitential purple of the rest of the Lenten season.  Like the Sunday of Joy during Advent, the color is pink, or more precisely, rose.  And so we have a pink candle on our Lenten candelabra, a stark symbol of rejoicing comingled with the sadness we know is coming during Holy Week.  

         This change in color then is a glimpse of the joy that awaits us at Easter just before we begin the somber days of Passiontide.  It keeps us going – both on our Lenten journey, but perhaps also in our own non-church lives when we confront difficult or nearly hopeless situations any time of the year.

         Laetare Sunday is also known by other names.  It is sometimes called Refreshment Sunday because we are refreshed for a day from the strict discipline of Lent.  It is also called mid-Lent Sunday for the obvious reason. 

         Another name is Mothering Sunday.  Servants and apprentices in Britain were released that day to go and visit their mothers.  Likewise, pilgrims traveled to their parish’s respective cathedral to make their offerings to the mother church.  Finally, that particular name recalls that we are all children – sons and daughters – of God.  From that final perspective, how interesting that the day is called Mothering (rather than Fathering) Sunday!  The Church proclaiming – if even discreetly – that God has female as well as male qualities?  Who knows?

         Laetare Sunday is also known at the Sunday of the Five Loaves, a reference to the abundance of the miracle of the loaves and fishes.  Finally, it is called Rose Sunday – for the color of the day, to be sure, but also because it was the day that golden roses were blessed before the Pope sent them to Catholic sovereigns.  

         We Protestants should be glad that Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony, in the early 1500’s was not swayed by the Pope’s gift of a golden rose You see, it had been sent primarily as a bribe in the hope that Martin Luther, who had sought asylum in Saxony, would be extradited to lands where he could be tried for blasphemy and undoubtedly burned at the stake.

         For us here today, then, Laetare Sunday is a day to, for the most part, put aside our worship series about listening to God through quiet prayer and meditation.  Instead, we are openly glad that Easter – and springtime – are almost here. 

         And so we go a bit Hawaiian this morning - and we rejoice.  We wear bright colors and sandals and shell necklaces and leis.  And we sing, trusting always that God can speak to us not only in silence, but also in the midst of what?  As the Psalmist notes, trumpet, harp, lyre, clashing and resounding cymbals, and yes, ukuleles!

         

Proverbs 1:21-24 "Lectio Divina"

INTRODUCTION TO SCRIPTURE READING

         Let me begin by saying that this is a very extended introduction to our Scripture Reading.  I have not forgotten about it.  It is coming. 

         That being said, let me really begin by saying that I am currently reading a very thick, very dense, but very interesting book on the history of Protestantism. Joe gave it to me for Christmas.

         The book begins, of course, with Martin Luther and the Reformation in Germany in the early 1500’s.  Then it weaves its way through all the other European reform movements from Zwingli in Switzerland to Henry VIII in England, with John Calvin emerging as the preeminent Protestant theologian after Luther. 

         I have also read about the First Great Awakening in the 1730’s and 1740’s that swept Britain and the American colonies.  It was an evangelical revival movement focused on restoring individual piety and religious devotion. 

         I am now concluding the part of the book that focuses on the Second Great Awakening in the early 1800’s.  Among its characteristics was a mounting theological tension between two distinct approaches to Christianity. 

         On the one hand, we find the mainstream denominations whose foundational theology was grounded in knowledge derived through the Word of God as revealed in Scripture.  Sola Scriptura (only Scripture) as Luther was fond of saying. On the other hand, during these years, new Christian movements emerged.  They were characterized by revival tents, demonstrative and eye-popping conversions, and a strong emotional element that the mainstream denominations seemed to lack as they continued to struggle with the embers of the Age of Enlightenment and the relationship between science and religion.  To put it way too simply, a divide existed between the emotional, charismatic movements and the rational mainstream denominations.

         Though to some extent, that divide continues today, I like to think that we as mainstream Christians better understand the emotional component of worship and that our charismatic brothers and sisters realize the importance of well-grounded knowledge in understanding the Gospel message.  Granted, we may not always agree on the meaning or interpretation of that knowledge, but hopefully we all consent to its value. 

       This knowledge that I speak of is the wisdom that we find in the Bible. This knowledge that I speak of is the Word of God. 

         And surely, if we listen – really listen - to Scripture, then maybe- just maybe – we can hear in our hearts what God is saying to us.  We can connect to God in a new and vibrant way. 

         And that, you will recall, is the essence of our Lenten worship series.  During this time of preparation for Easter, we are trying out ways of listening to our still speaking God.  So far, we have figured out that oftentimes making this spiritual connection has something to do with prayer. 

         And so the overarching questions have been:  How do we pray?  Can we pray in different ways?  What might some of the alternatives be to sitting in church and reciting written prayers?  And can we take any of these less churchy practices with us to use in our own personal devotions throughout the week during this Lenten season?  Can reading Scripture be a kind of prayer?  Can we connect with God through the Word of God?

        Using the reading of Scripture as a kind of prayer is an ancient Christian practice.  It usually works better too than starting with Genesis, the first book of the Bible, and figuring we can plow our way through to the very last chapter of the very last book, Revelation.      Most of us find difficulty getting through all those rules outlined in Leviticus – from what animals can be eaten when to safeguarding against mildew to what to do about unclean bodily discharges.  Or we peter out when we come to the seeming endless genealogies – so-and-so begat so-and-so who begat so-and-so.

         Thank goodness we have another way to read Scripture, one with a solid reputation that dates back to early monastic traditions.  It is called lectio divina, which is Latin for “holy reading.”  Back in the days of those monasteries, not everyone could read, and there were generally not enough Bibles to go around anyway.  And so the monks would gather as a community to hear one of their literate brothers read from the Bible.  They were taught and encouraged to listen less with their minds and more with their hearts. After all, it was the Word of God that they were hearing – and that connection with God was made with both heart and mind. 

         Lectio divina encourages us to let the words of scripture simply be present and live in us rather than try to figure out what their “correct” meaning is.  In practicing lectio divina nowadays, we first quiet ourselves, deeply breathing in the Spirit of God, as we talked about last week.  And in the quiet, we remember that we are about to hear not just anything, but the Word of God itself.  How powerful an idea is that!

         Then we listen as the Scripture passage is slowly read, keeping our ears and hearts open for a word or phrase that jumps out at us or that we hear over all the other words, something that touches our heart.  After the reading, there is a period of silence – or a time of contemplative music. One might use this time to savor the word or phrase and to ask such questions as:  What gift does this passage lead me to ask from God? What does this passage call me to do?

         Then the Scripture passage is read one more time – followed by the Lord’s Prayer.  Lectio divina, then, is a personal and flexible way to pray, to listen for, to connect with God through Scripture, through the Word of God.  First, you just listen, then you note what this passage is giving to you, and finally you prepare to respond in the way the Holy Spirit directs you.

         We are going to try lectio divina this morning.  We have been doing it all along during Lent in a modified way – reading the Scripture twice with a brief time of silence in between.  This morning, then, we will begin in silence, so we can really focus on what we are going to do - which is listen to the Word of God.  Then our liturgist will read the passage slowly.  Next we will have a time of silence and music to listen to what God is saying to us. 

         During that time, I encourage you to find a word or phrase that pops out for you and write it on your Doodle space on the back of the bulletin.  Then play with it, write down what else it inspires in you, be poetic, use bullet points, be artistic, whatever.  And listen to whether that word or phrase is pointing you to a person or event that you might want to remember in prayer during your appointment with God time.  Maybe it will, and maybe it won’t.  And that is OK. 

         After that time of silence when you are doodling, I will share with you my personal ramblings with the text.  Then I will read it again, and we will conclude with the Lord’s Prayer.

          What will we hear when we let go of what Scripture is “supposed“ to mean and simply let it reside and percolate within us?

SILENCE

READING OF TEXT

TIME OF SILENCE/MUSIC

MY THOUGHTS

         Wisdom, wisdom, wisdom:  In the Book of Proverbs, wisdom is personified as a woman.  And, what is more, she has been with God since the very beginning of time itself.  Theologian Frederick Buechner notes that later in Proverbs we read, "The Lord created me (wisdom) at the beginning of his work,"

         Buechner goes on to say, “She was there when (God) made the heaven, the sea, the earth. It was as if (God) needed a woman's imagination to help him make them, a woman's eye to tell him if he'd made them right, a woman's spirit to measure their beauty by.” How cool is that!

         Wisdom, wisdom, wisdom:  Buechner goes on to contrast what we tend to call wisdom with what is meant by wisdom in Proverbs.  He writes, “Worldly wisdom is what more or less all of us have been living by since the Stone Age. It is best exemplified by such homely utterances as ‘You've got your own life to lead,’ ‘Business is business,’ ‘Charity begins at home,’ ‘Don't get involved,’ ‘God helps those who help themselves,’ ‘Safety first’, and so forth.” 

         But Lady Wisdom is about something else, I would say.  Real wisdom is more than living a good and upstanding life.  It has to do with our relationship with God – and with one another. 

         Consequently, wisdom is, on the one hand, very personal but, on the other hand, not achieved in isolation but rather in community.  Wisdom has to do with transformation.  It has to do with developing the street smarts to be more Christ-like.  Wisdom has to do with our heart as much as with our head.

         Wisdom, wisdom, wisdom:  Lady Wisdom is shouting it from the streets.   She is a ballsy woman.  She is mother.  She is prophet.  As Old Testament scholar Brent Strawn notes:  “Her first speech is nothing if not straightforward, and it is strongly reminiscent of several of the prophets. The opening verses locate Wisdom in the midst of society's hustle and bustle. She hawks her wares where everyone can hear -- on the busiest corner and at the city gates (which often (he notes) doubled as the place of justice in ancient Israel).

"How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple? How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge? Give heed to my reproof; I will pour out my thoughts to you; I will make my words known to you.”

         How few are the wise, it would seem!  How many are the simple ones, the scoffers, and the fools!  They are the ones who fail to take the Word of God seriously!  How few are the wise ones who understand intuitively that justice and compassion lie at the heart of God’s dream for the world!  How many are the ones who live as Frederick Buechner described:  “….basically interested in nothing so much as old number one (yet) still give generously to the American Cancer Society, be on the Board of Deacons, run for town office, and have a soft spot in our hearts for children and animals.”

         Lady Wisdom shouts in the middle of the busiest marketplace, yet so few hear her.  Everyone can hear her, of course, but not everyone will.  It seems in this day and age that everyone is talking, but who is really listening?  Most of us would rather give advice than receive it.  Listening well seems to get harder and harder as we get older and older and more and more set in our ways.  And yet, our capacity to listen – both to each other and to the Word of God – affects every relationship we have, every choice that we make, and every path that we follow.  

         Lady Wisdom is crying out to everyone who will listen.  Her call is to heed wisdom and the Word of God and to make good choices.  She does not promise that wisdom is going to make life perfect, but surely paving the road with justice, compassion, inclusion, and reconciliation will help make it much smoother, especially when hard times do come. 

         Wisdom, wisdom, wisdom:  May we seek knowledge – real knowledge - in the words of Holy Scripture.  This is wisdom:  Blessed are the merciful, the peacemakers, the pure in heart….The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…I am the Bread of Life, the Light of the World…I am the Way….Take up your cross and follow me.

         May we connect with God through the Word of God.  May we connect with God and with one another - with our heart – emotionally – as well as with our mind – intellectually. 

         As Frederick Buechner notes, “Wisdom is….like a woman's wisdom. It is born out of suffering as a woman bears a child. It shows a way through the darkness the way a woman stands at the window holding a lamp.”  May the reading of this Scripture be, for each one of us, the birth of something new, a light in our darkness, and, in the end, a prayer.

READ SCRIPTURE AGAIN

^20-21 Lady Wisdom goes out in the street and shouts.
    At the town center she makes her speech.
In the middle of the traffic she takes her stand.
    At the busiest corner she calls out:

^22-24 “Simpletons! How long will you wallow in ignorance?
    Cynics! How long will you feed your cynicism?
Idiots! How long will you refuse to learn?
    About face! I can revise your life.
Look, I’m ready to pour out my spirit on you;
    I’m ready to tell you all I know.
As it is, I’ve called, but you’ve turned a deaf ear;
    I’ve reached out to you, but you’ve ignored me.

         Let’s pray….May everything we have gained from the reading of this passage be pleasing to you, O God.  We offer to you everything about it that has touched our minds and our hearts - just as we offer the prayer that Jesus taught his followers long ago:

LORD’S PRAYER