The Heart is the Fulcrum (Sermon preached 25 October 2020)

My earliest memory of the summary of the law, which is the formal name for Jesus’ answer to the Pharisees in this morning’s Gospel, is embedded in a particular place: St. Augustine-by-the Sea in Santa Monica. Not the cream-colored sixties-style contemporary edifice that now faces out onto Fourth Street, just below Wilshire; but the original church, that burned in 1966. The red brick and wooden frame building, with its rich, dark wainscoting and pews, deep jewel-toned stained-glass windows and red carpet.

 

St. Augustine’s, where I, along with maybe 100 other children, in blue-and white-checked uniforms, would walk, our hands clasped behind our backs, to chapel during the week; where I stood in a choir stall on Sundays: where I first fell in love with what the psalmist calls “the beauty of holiness.” (read more)

Camera Angles

While on vacation recently, I had the opportunity to learn about the brilliant, versatile camera that lives inside my cellphone. We started out inside, socially distanced, of course, being introduced to its many built-in functions (and a few hidden tricks). Then our instructor took us outside so we could practice what we had been shown. 

I discovered that knowing what all those buttons actually do makes a huge difference. And who knew that my phone was capable of such artistry? Exposure, contrast, saturation, tint, all of which can be applied and/or adjusted after the photo is taken – if, that is, I opt out of the “auto edit” function and decide to play with those tools myself. Otherwise my talented camera can determine the optimal combination of those features on its own.

 

But before taking the picture, there is composition. According to the rule of thirds, it is best to imagine the lens as a 3X3 grid, and locate the main subject(s) at either an intersection of the dividing lines or along one of the lines itself. Except, when you have a single brightly colored object or an all-over pattern, it is okay to center it in the photo.

 

And zooming in before snapping a photo is a bad idea. Why? Because when it enlarges the objects on the screen, it also spreads out the pixels, reducing the quality of the image. Better to shoot now, maybe use the “burst” feature so as to capture the optimal moment. And then later, when there is time and space, select, and crop as needed.

 

Not long ago, a wise mentor said to me, “we really can control what we think”. It’s not the first time I had heard this, but honestly, I’d never really bought it. It had always seemed to me that thoughts and feelings simply arrive, and I react to them, selecting from a whole range of responses from amazement to joy to satisfaction to disappointment to rage to grief.

 

But I am learning that just as I can decide to focus my attention on how to best capture a beautiful scene or a memorable moment, I can choose how to frame the reality I experience. I can select what is to be the primary subject(s); I can then decide from which angle I will consider it/them; I can lighten or darken the tone of the image; I can even take multiple shots and spend time later, evaluating which one is best. Which is truest.

 

What’s more, from the outset I can determine selection criteria for the images I want to add to my collection, as it were. Will I search a challenging situation and find the beauty? Will I scan the distant horizon and focus in on the hope? Will I, in the midst of chaos and suffering, refuse to look away, and instead keep watching for hints of divine grace?

 

And once the subject(s) of my seeking rest inside my frame – the individuals, situations, crises, and opportunities that I encounter along the way, I can then focus on those with whom I interact with generosity, and respect. I can frame the scene with open heartedness. I can intensify the contrast between what gives life and what does not; what is about love and what is not.

 

And isn’t that the whole point of capturing and preserving the moments of grace we are given? Isn’t it the reason we take pictures?

Desert Textures

It's About the Vineyard (Sermon preached 4 October 2020)

Last Tuesday morning, as I was scrolling through the news on my phone, I saw this headline from the Sacramento Bee: “It’s like God has no sympathy”: Wine Country Shaken by RelentlessWildfires.Of course, any headline with the word “God” in it is going to catch my eye! Especially during a week when I’m working on a sermon.

 

But this one was particularly striking for a couple of reasons. First, because someone quoted on the Apple News feed was saying out loud what I imagine some have been secretly thinking – it’s like God has no sympathy, and not just about wildfires – over the last several months. Months during which people all over the world have continued to fall ill and die from COVID-19; months during which our economy has been shut down to slow it’s spread, and during which later attempts to reopen have, in some places, led to new surges in infection. Months that have shown that though COVID’s impacts are more keenly felt by the poor and the vulnerable, still this disease knows no favorites, and has no respect for wealth or office. And that’s just the pandemic part... (read more)

 

Vineyard Along the Spanish Camino