Blog : Give Me Grace

Give Me Grace: Who Can Preach?

Posted on September 25, 2016September 25, 2016 by lisha epperson

Who dares? Who can preach, knowing what preaching is – Karl Barth

Listen to the Bible on behalf of the people and then speak. Be, then bear witness. – Thomas Long

“To preach Christ is to feed the soul, to justify it, to set it free, and to save it, if it believes the preaching.” – Martin Luther

2 Kings 5:1-16New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Healing of Naaman
5 Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master, because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from leprosy.[a] 2 Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. 3 She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.”[b] 4 So Naaman[c] went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. 5 And the king of Aram said, “Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.”

He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. 6 He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.”[d] 7 When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy?[e] Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.”

8 But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” 9 So Naaman came with his horses and chariots, and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. 10 Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.” 11 But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “I thought that for me he would surely come out, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, and would wave his hand over the spot, and cure the leprosy![f] 12 Are not Abana[g] and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them, and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage. 13 But his servants approached and said to him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” 14 So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.

15 Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel; please accept a present from your servant.” 16 But he said, “As the Lord lives, whom I serve, I will accept nothing!” He urged him to accept, but he refused.

~~~~~~~~

… sifting through the unnamed voices in the text above, following the move of the Holy Spirit for a word from God, praying for my heart and voice to find its way in preparation for my first sermon.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight … #GiveMeGrace

♥

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Give Me Grace: The 411 On My Phone Addiction

Posted on September 18, 2016September 18, 2016 by lisha epperson

There is a great chance that you are addicted to your smartphone if you are unable to leave it out of your sight for any length of time. If you feel like you are missing or losing something when your phone is away from you for just a few minutes, then you clearly need a reality check. – Zak Mustapha

A cheerful Asian woman talked to me about the benefits of hydration on YouTube today. The importance of adequate water consumption is something I already know but a link on Facebook connected me to another link on YouTube and there I was … balancing my phone on a glass while getting to the business of kitchen ministry. It was time to wash and change the filter of my water pitcher and I needed a place to put the phone to enhance my audio experience. Running water is loud, the echo from the glass opening – the perfect no frills upgrade for my devices sound system.

To be fair, I was on a break. I’d gotten up early to get a head start on my reading for the day (who am I kidding? I’m in seminary – all I do is read) and it was time for a break. Regular intervals of reflection, time to stretch, to breathe are mandatory.

But before I get to any of that good stuff, of late, my breaks begin with a check-in on social media.

I brought my phone and my new, and clearly important YouTubing friend to the kitchen. I couldn’t bear to be away from my device for the 5 minutes it took to rinse the pitcher and insert the filter. This is crazy y’all.

My check-ins have gone unchecked.

Could it be that in the few moments that she and I connected, I subconsciously calculated the significance of our relationship deciding we should get to know each other better? Or is it the phone?

It’s the phone.
It’s always the phone.
It is an addiction and I am an addict.
Not addicted as in texting while driving, but I have a problem.
My name is Lisha Epperson and I have a phone/baby.

The woman is lovely but it isn’t her that kept me – I’m attracted to information and my phone is a wonder. She gives me the news buzz I need with the added delight of a full-blown sensory explosion. She’s tactile and auditory and visual.

It must be love.

Because I carry my device like a baby. I take care of her. I keep her battery charged, protect her from dangerous falls and keep her warm and cozy in a fashionable case. I’m a good mommy too, I’d never leave my phone/baby alone. Would my phone/baby survive without me? I don’t want to know. And what pray tell would I do, if I missed all the new and exciting things my precious phone/baby has to say?

I like to think I’m in control. But am I?

When my son called to say he’d arrived at the museum for his weekly science program the phone ringed. That ring interrupted the delicate balance I depended on to hear her voice over and above a running faucet. The vibration from that ring made my phone fall.

Onto the counter and into the sink.

In the moment, I flashed back to all the other times I’d done something like this. The times I brought my phone/baby to the bathroom, how I rarely let her out of sight … especially when I’m at home – how the acknowledgment of this addiction is for me an awakening on a spiritual level. I’ve developed a bad habit of tuning in at every available moment. I need a phone/baby Sabbath.

I’ve developed a bad habit of tuning in at every available moment. It’s time to call it quits with all the attachment parenting bonding we’re doing here.

Thankfully, she didn’t suffer any damage. At least none I could see at the time. Mama and her phone/baby are doing well …

But still … I need to chill out. Maybe even tune out for a minute. Pause. Rewind. Foul. Time out. It may be time for a phone/baby Sabbath.

I have to limit my worship of this particular idol. I want to fully engage in the people and tasks before me even if it means being in the moment over a sink full of dishes. I want to disconnect from the infinite connection of my phone, tune in and turn my heart toward the Divine one. For me, its about stewardship of time.

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. – Ephesians 5:15-17

Telephones and the technology behind them are important. I don’t want to ignore the benefits of balanced usage and can’t deny the positive impact of international access. I know the good God glory of online relationships and ministry (it’s how I’ve met all of you) and a great podcast like OnBeing is what I consider food for the soul, but here are a few things I’ll try. Numbers 1 & 2 from this article on LifeHack.

No phone for the first 30 minutes of my day
No-phone time zones
and here’s a good one – No juggling or balancing of devices on glassware

I’d love to hear your story. Are you addicted to your phone? How have you been intentional about creating boundaries around usage?

Grateful for the grace of this inexpensive reminder.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight … #GiveMeGrace

♥

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Give Me Grace: Baptism is for Believers

Posted on September 11, 2016September 11, 2016 by lisha epperson

It is to believed because it is absurd. – Tertullian

and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God,^[a] who loved me and gave himself for me. – Galatians 2:20

and this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also—not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a clear conscience toward God. It saves you by the resurrection of Jesus Christ – 1 Peter 3:21

I wore a cassock alb for fewer than 3 minutes this week. Sized E-J, it fit perfectly over my breasty breasts and fell perfectly over my new clogs. I didn’t or maybe couldn’t take a picture of myself dressed in such a manner. In awe, I simply stared at my reflection. I was also a little bit frightened. But in a good way. Have you ever felt like that?

On Wednesday I rushed from my church history class to set my schedule for my field education assignment at the Church of the Heavenly Rest. I tell anyone who asks that she, in all her Episcopal grandeur flirted with me for the past 3 years. I’d start and end my run around the reservoir with her in my head. She was my landmark, my light at the end of the tunnel … my almost finished marker when I began a spiritual practice of walking turned running in Central Park. She didn’t move, but always drew me closer.

I didn’t go inside for over a year.

She’s a church I can walk to, but at 5th Ave and 90th Street in NYC, let’s just say she and I are from different worlds. New York is like that – walking a few blocks in any direction can change the cultural, economic and social landscape dramatically. I’m Bed-Stuy Brooklyn, double-dutch and government cheese. She’s posh, upper east side private school privilege. We’re both good people, with good hearts but we just wouldn’t connect. We would never have met.

But God.

Intrigued, I attended Monday night silent meditation, Wednesdays Celtic Eucharist and evening prayer on Sunday nights. When I saw Heavenly Rest on the list for possible field-ed assignments last year, I had to apply. If I’m honest I both know and don’t know about this part of the journey. In a strange way, the absurdity of this path points me back to God. I believe it to be right and good largely because I trust God. I’m walking into a foreign land with traditions and ways of being very different from any I’ve known. In fact, all I know is the grace found in the pledge of a clear conscience toward God.

And that’s enough.

So it’s all learning, all beginning again. Starting over and adding to. Growing. More than ever my faith calls me to love God with my mind. To understand the foundation of my faith and to ‘find and see’ myself in the traditions by learning about people like Absolom Jones and Pauli Murray or discovering that the observance of Lent has roots in Egypt which people often forget – is in Africa. This time around I want to bring my whole self to the table. I want to celebrate the gift of being there.

All of this makes me think about baptism and the scripture I recited before an elder at my church assisted in the submerging of my physical frame in the Atlantic Ocean – not too far from the shore at Coney Island. That was more than 25 years ago. That year, I made my wish known and did the work for baptism candidacy. It wasn’t much. Just memorizing and reciting the scripture. Still, I was ready to profess my faith – publicly.

One of the things I remember most about that day is changing clothes. When it was over I changed out of my sandy, wet t-shirt and skirt into clean, dry clothing brought for the occasion. My baptism by water was powerful but the act of changing clothes was the embodiment of the new life I hoped for. It was a meaningful experience that marked my enlightenment as a believer. It was a rebirth by water and spirit, by the putting on of Christ, clothed with a new garment – I began again.

Tomorrow I’ll wear that cassock alb when I serve my new friends as the seminarian intern at the Church of the Heavenly Rest. Clothed in this tunic I’ll remember my perpetual resurrection.

Three cheers for new beginnings and the God of great surprises!

cassockalb3 — cassock alb. Not me, but you get the idea.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight … #GiveMeGrace

♥

Have you explored other faith traditions? Was it intentional or like mine … seemingly a part of Gods crazy perfect plan for your life? What was your experience?

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Give Me Grace: Making My Bed

Posted on September 3, 2016September 3, 2016 by lisha epperson

Love saves me. Love will save us all. – Maya Angelou

and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two, but one flesh. – Mark 10:8

I do not know everything; still many things I understand . – Goethe

I made our bed today
As I do every day
With prayers shaken out and over and through.
Sprinkled with the mystery of something called …

two shall become one.

It’s a daily ritual this reckoning with the state of our union
Our making and remaking as faith poured over a foundation of love
Bigger and wider than anything we could have imagined
Harder.
We take it apart and put it back together
dismantle and rebuild by choice

The love is that good. Still.

So I toss pillows to the floor.
Spread sheets smooth.
Pick up and fluff and fluff again.
Turning the first sheet over the second just so, hiding imperfections, forgiving irregularities.

We cover each other’s flaws.

Two shall become one.

And I remember…

This is the bed we bought when we believed
When our hair was long, and our family – an elusive dream of souls entering and exiting the drama of our story quicker than either of us could get to know them.
There was no visible manifestation of our love-making. And that hurt.

But still we believed. In the magic of marriage.

Two shall become one.

We saved money for a mattress that outlives most modern-day examples of covenant.
And set it aloft a bed of carved wood.
I didn’t find the floral pattern I hoped for , but instead, took home the one with leaves.
Just leaves.

Today I’m grateful for the singular blessing and lesson of a leaf.
Because what happens here can’t be explained
And like the roots that nourish us, roots we can’t see, the wisdom of a leaf foretells growth – a flowering and surrender … change.

Leaves help me remember we’re attached.
Rooted and grounded with a promise.

Seeing the leaf helps me believe for the blossom
Leaves have taught me to breathe deep … to wait … to let go.
Unlike the instant gratification of a medley of flowers, the leaf sustains my longing.

I need the leaf to remind me I won’t stay the same. And neither will you.

~~~~~~~

I shook out the sheet today and a million dust particles found new places to live among the treasures of our ordinary sanctuary
This is our room
Surely it changes as much as we do.

We rub words raw in the retelling of this story
Often it isn’t the word, but a word repeated that wears hard on a marriage.
Our well-loved sheets and the tent of love we crawl into every night have stories to tell. What happens here is our recovery.

Our two becoming one.
And how hard and beautiful that was … Is.

The wrinkles and creases
The hard things made smooth
So many feelings washed and dried away
Cycled and recycled to be always – made new.

I made our bed today.
As I do every day.
With prayers shaken out and over and through …

I remembered the space between us last night,
and the night before,
How sometimes our face to face talks morph into back to back standoffs – a stubborn refusal to tear the veil.

Here, God lays a sheet across the known and unknown of man and wife
It’s an invitation for two people to remember the One.
To mend what was broken or shattered. To heal. To forgive.
To become one.

I feel you reaching for me.
I do.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight … #GiveMeGrace

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