When you did not know God, you were enslaved to beings that by nature are not gods. (Galatians 4:8)

Today's reflection is by 
Thea Keith-Lucas, Episcopal Chaplain at MIT

In the movie The Examined Life, the disability activist Sunaura Taylor describes the experience of being judged because of the things her body cannot do. Because her joints are fused and her muscles weakened, she needs to do many tasks differently or to ask for help. To purchase a cup of coffee, she has to choose between carrying the cup in her mouth or asking someone to carry it for her. The first time she went to a coffee shop alone, she sat outside a long time trying to find the courage to go in.
 
Taylor makes a distinction between being impaired and being disabled. Her body may be impaired from carrying out certain tasks on her own. But she only becomes disabled when her community refuses to accommodate her body as it is.
 
We assume people should be self-sufficient, so we disable anyone who cannot play by our rules. We are frightened by the reality that all of us need help: we needed help as children, we will need help again as elders, and at any time we could need help if we become impaired by injury or illness.
 
When we listen to the truth of others’ lives, we can begin to unchain ourselves from the assumptions that oppress others and ourselves. We can begin to turn away from the false masters of power and independence, and join our brother Jesus in worshipping God alone.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. (2 Corinthians 3:17)

Today's reflection is by Kori Pacyniak, member of the Episcopal Chaplaincy at Boston University

”One who is content in what he has, and who accepts that [one] inevitably misses very much in life, is far better off than one who has much more but who worries about all s/he may be missing. For we cannot make the best of what we are if our hearts are always divided between what we are and what we are not.” -Thomas Merton If I commit to one thing, does that close the door on other possibilities and opportunities?  A life divided is a life not lived out to the fullest. God wants us to flourish. God loves us unconditionally and has plans for us, plans to use our talents to our fullest potential. Our hesitation can prevent that, it can keep us from fully experiencing the love and joy of God — to be surrounded and even overwhelmed by that unconditional love. It scares us because it is beyond the realm of human experience. Can we even conceive of God incarnate embracing us, kneeling down to tenderly wash our feet, taking away all our fears, insecurities and sins, leaving us with a feeling of pure, unadultered love? I can’t. Not easily. The simple thought of it threatens to bring me to tears. God does not ask us to do the impossible. God only asks us to give ourselves wholly to the possibility of what She might have in store for us. It is like a dance. To stand at the edge, listening to the music, feeling that tug, moving slightly to the music, but not quite participating. When God stops in front of us and holds out a hand in invitation, it is up to us to take it, to join in and get swept up in the whirlwind of the dance. We cannot worry about what others will think, of whether we’ll know the steps or not — there is no need to worry. God will lead us in the dance and we only need to follow, to let ourselves be spun around and grasped firmly in a loving, secure embrace before we spin out of control. Dancing is about trust, about letting go, trusting that your partner won’t drop you when they dip you, lift you, or flip you. Trusting that you won’t slip and fall —but if you do, God will be there to pick you up because the dance goes on.

Let me take it upon myself to speak to the Lord. (Genesis 18:31a)

Today's reflection is by Jesse Belanger

Member of the Episcopal Chaplaincy at Boston University

Do you remember that phase of growing up when you started to realize that, even though it had always come naturally to look up to and listen to the adults in your life, it was actually possible for you to talk to them as well? Not merely speak, of course, but communicate, discuss – even debate – as two people with equally valid investments in the topic at hand. I remember that bit of coming of age, and how strange it seemed to me that my voice could matter to anyone with more experience, or knowledge, or power.

Even now, adult life presents situations to all of us where we are inclined to voice a concern to someone with more power, but fear the repercussions of doing so. Yet this passage from Genesis, where Abraham speaks out to God – challenging his plan to destroy the wicked and righteous alike in Sodom, reasoning with him to be less reckless – assures us that there is nothing wrong with respectfully using our voices when something seems to be going amiss. It reminds us that whether our conscience calls for us to open dialogue with a family member, community member, or even God Himself, we need not be afraid: righteousness is in taking it upon ourselves to speak.

She [Wisdom] goes about seeking those worthy of her, and she graciously appears to them in their paths, and meets them in every thought. (Wisdom 6:16)

Today's reflection is by Mario Melendez Ministry Associate at the Episcopal Chaplaincy at Boston University

I admit that when I hear the word ‘wisdom’ I do think back to a line from Star Wars “Attack of the Clones”, when Obi-Wan Kenobi is having a meeting with a friend and he is told: “I should think you Jedi would have more respect for the difference between knowledge and…wisdom.” While we can certainly increase our knowledge of literature, science and other disciplines by reading books, listening to stories, asking advice from mentors, etc., can we increase our wisdom? If we look back at our lives until today, can we say that we are wise? And what is wisdom? In addition to the famous passage from Proverbs 8:25-31, we are told the following about wisdom: “Happy are those who find wisdom, and those who get understanding, for her income is better than silver, and her revenue better than gold. She is more precious than jewels, and nothing you desire can compare with her.” (Proverbs 3:13-15) One of the fascinating and important things about the concept of wisdom (Sophia) is that she allows us to explore the feminine side of divinity in unique ways. Thomas Merton said that wisdom is “the great stabilizer for peace” and that “living with wisdom” is a life of peace in Christ. As we continue the season of Lent and we start to get closer to Easter Week, let us try to live our lives in wisdom. Let us pray for wisdom and be able to smile in the spirit of Sophia centered in the love of Christ.

O send out your light and your truth; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling. (Psalm 43:3)

Today's reflection is by Thea Keith-Lucas,
Episcopal Chaplain at MIT

The pool is one of my holy places. As I travel through the water, my muscles take over and my mind quiets. Anxieties slide away and decisions seem clearer.

The other day I shared a lane with a young man who could zip right by me. He stopped and called to me, "Do you know you don't have to turn your head that much to breathe? It's like you're trying to look all the way behind you."

Who asked him? This is my quiet time, to do my own thing in peace. I managed a grudging thanks and then kept swimming.

The really annoying part was that he was right. When I first tried turning my head less, I ended up with water in my mouth. But after I while I got it, and my stroke felt stronger.

My relationship with God often feels like my own private place. When someone pushes me to grow in my faith, my first impulse is to push back - even if I know they only say it out of love, and especially if I know they are right.

Lord, help me to listen for your truth in the voices of the people you have sent to guide me. Let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling.

I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved. (Genesis 32: 30b)

Today's reflection is by Cameron Partridge Episcopal Chaplain at Boston University

On June 4, 1924, British mountaineer Noel Odell peered from the base camp of Mount Everest at two tiny, moving specks. For a moment George Mallory and Andrew “Sandy” Irvine climbed toward its then untrodden summit before being obscured by fog. Seventy-five years later, Mallory was found at 27,000 feet by a team of climber-researchers. They read an Anglican service of burial before building a rock cairn around his body. “No one can see my face and live,” God declares to Moses (Ex 33:20). The Gospel of John goes further: “no one has ever seen God” (Jn 1:18a). The declaration “I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved,” may seem to defy this trend. Yet its speaker was no longer Jacob but Israel, renamed for having “striven with God and humans, and prevailed” (32:28). Perilous as it is, the vision of God is the object of our hope: “When [God] is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is” (1 Jn 3:2). Whether veiled in time or unveiled in eternity, perceiving God pulls us through a doorway. We are never unchanged.

O Lord, all my longing is known to you; my sighing is not hidden from you. (Psalm 38:9)

My faith sets me free.
I am not alone.
 
Today's reflection is by Ashley, member of the Lutheran Episcopal Ministry at MIT

I don’t have to remember everything.
I don’t have to carry it all myself.
 
I am not alone in knowing my regrets, my struggles, my fears.
I am not alone in dreaming my dreams and celebrating my victories.
 
I am not wholly dependent on those around me.
I can stand on my own, but I don’t have to.
I can fall down, dust myself off, and get up again.
 
I don’t have to have it all figured out.
I don’t have to figure it all out. Not today. Not tomorrow.
 
I am loved and cherished.
I am known, and I can be free.
 
Free to take a deep breath and stop for a moment. Or two.
 
Free to listen.
Free to loosen my grip and let it go.
Free to do the right thing instead of being right.
Free to say “I’m sorry” and “I forgive you.”
 
Free to challenge myself.
Free to believe in myself and others.
 
Free to be less fearful and more brave.
Free to be less rigid and more flexible.
Free to break old habits and try new ones.
Free to have fun and delight in life.
 
Free to love and be loved.