Reading the Bible Again

Reading the Bible Again

“We don’t go brain dead when we read the Scriptures. We need not hesitate to use our intellects—informed by many disciplines—as we approach the Scriptures. How does what you are reading in the Scriptures resonate with your own life experience? If not, then what? The Anglican approach is to be on good speaking terms with Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience.”—Br. Curtis Almquist, SSJE, from “Brother, Give Us a Word,” a daily email sent to friends and followers of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist (SSJE.org). 

The Bible is a library of many books. It is our road map, not the final destination. It contains many writings from people seeking a connection to God. We have so much to learn from them. We relate to their struggles, joys, sorrows, and the peace they find through a deep connection to God. The Bible is the story of God’s relationship with God’s people. That’s all of us. 

We are continually amazed at how a passage can mean something different to us when we read it a week, a year, or later. This experience happens when we relate our lives, the lives of those around us, and the world around us to what we are reading in Scripture. 

Br. Almquist asks us to use our intellect to reflect on what we read in Scripture. What was going on in the lives of the people when these books were written? Were they being persecuted? How different are our lives today from theirs? How are they the same?

Find out what other sources say. Br. Almquist asks us to use our reason and experience. How does our history help us understand what we are reading? We also have a rich tradition of holy mothers and fathers who have struggled and inwardly digested Holy Scripture. We are to investigate what they have to say.

I have always believed the Holy Spirit did not stop working after the many books of the Bible were written. The Holy Spirit works in us and in those with whom we live in community, helping us read and hear Scripture and discern what it says today in the twenty-first century.

My tradition encourages us to read from the Hebrew Bible each day, along with one Psalm, one New Testament letter, and one Gospel passage. 

Here is my confession: I try to follow this rule. Sometimes I skip parts. Sometimes I read only the first and last verses of the Psalm and use them as a mantra for the day. Other times, I choose just one reading, especially when it is part of a continuing story in the Hebrew Bible. 

I love biblical narratives, such as the story of Queen Esther, even though God is never mentioned in that book. I also try to follow the adventures of Paul and the early Christians—again, more stories. Some have become old friends, as in a recent reading about Paul meeting Aquila and Priscilla in Corinth after they fled Rome. I do what I can. I have stopped beating myself up for not reading it all. I am learning that the Holy Spirit will speak to me in whatever measure I can receive. My job is to remain faithful to the connection. I confess that I am sometimes committed and sometimes less faithful, but something leads me to keep striving.

Joanna joannaseibert.com

 

 

 

Chan West, Continuing Jesus' Ministry of Storytelling

Chan West, Continuing Jesus’ Ministry of Storytelling

photo of Chan by Kathleen Wesson

“Jesus invites us into a story bigger than ourselves, bigger than our culture, even bigger than our imaginations, yet we get to tell that story with the scandalous particularity of our moment and place in time. We are storytelling creatures because we are fashioned in the image of a storytelling God. May we never neglect that gift. May we never lose our love for telling the tale.”–Rachel Held Evans in Inspired (Nelson Books Nashville), p. 164.

Chan West died on August 1, 2021, at age 91. Everyone who met her will miss her and want to share Chan stories with you. She was a faithful member of Holy Spirit Episcopal Church in Gulf Shores, Alabama. Before the 8 am service, you would find her in the kitchen, fixing refreshments, arranging the altar flowers, setting the altar, reading the lectionary readings, or praying the prayers of the people. She was almost always barefoot before the service.

photo by Joanna Campbell

If you took the time to talk to her, you heard stories from her life at the Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge, where, as a child during World War II, she met German spies who came ashore. Or you heard about the times she encountered alligators or the turtles she saved. She was an original turtle person, looking for signs of new nests to care for before the baby turtles hatched, helping them migrate back to the sea. Or you might have heard about the Christian Service Center, where she served others for many years. Or you might have been on one of her tours of the Refuge. Perhaps you were with her when she stopped a church service to rescue a dying dog that had been dropped off at the church during difficult times.

These are all beautiful ministries, but I most remember someone we always wanted to be with on our visits to Holy Spirit. She had a unique ability to make you feel comfortable in her presence. Maybe it was because she was so comfortable in herself. I don’t know what it was. Others may have a better idea. Living so close to the land all your life and loving it makes you feel alive and comfortable in your own skin, and keeps you in touch with God’s presence, which is so clearly revealed in the world around you. Perhaps it’s about recognizing the cycle of life and love each day and appreciating its beauty even in challenging times. 

Others describe her as a no-nonsense person. Some say her passion for life was contagious. All remember her generosity with her time for the earth and for all those she met. She is the person you think will never die because she is so alive. Well, of course, she has not died. She will live in the hearts of each of us until we meet her again and undoubtedly hear more of her stories.

Joanna Seibert  https://www.joannaseibert.com/

photo by Kathleen Wesson

Learning More About Recovery

Learning More About Recovery

“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.”

—Desmond Tutu.

I remember attending the Episcopal Recovery Conference in Asheville, North Carolina, some years ago, where I learned so much more about addiction recovery. First, I realized that the longer I am in recovery, the more I think I know and that I have heard it all. Today I am disabused of that thought. I know very little. That is why it is essential to continue attending gatherings like this.

One speaker, Chris Budnick, executive director of Healing Transitions in Raleigh, talks about how we think others' recovery should look like ours. That is not true. Recovery from addiction is not a cookie-cutter process. We share our experience, strength, and hope, but we must not expect others to have the same experience, strength, and hope. Perhaps we can see this more clearly in our spiritual life. We each have a spiritual connection to God, but it is different for each of us. Likewise, our response to recovery and our individual path to achieving it are different. 

I learned another lesson that day. We often talk about someone not coming to recovery because they “have not hit bottom.” That means the person hasn’t reached a level of pain that allows openness to change. The speaker gave examples of others who changed because people in recovery kept telling them there was hope for freedom from addiction. Hope for an alternative life.

Mentors in recovery consistently convey that those who are farther along in recovery care about them, recognize what they are going through, and believe there is hope. Those caught in addiction may glimpse new life in the person in recovery who seems to care about them. 

This is another way those in recovery can carry the message to those still suffering: by continuing to reach out and offer hope.

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com