Joan Clark Houk

Reflection on Pentecost Sunday 2023 CE

Luke wrote the dramatic story of the birth of the Church.  Condensing the story, we have disciples in a room together after Jesus’ Ascension where they selected Matthias to replace Judas.  Then on the day of Pentecost, seven weeks after Passover, they were again all together.  The Holy Spirit inspired them and they began to speak in every language.  A crowd gathered and was amazed, and Peter gave a speech to the crowd and many came to believe.  The believers then formed a primitive community with all things held in common.  Luke wrote this story in the years between 85-95 CE, and is the only writer to tell us how it happened.  He wrote both from “investigation and imagination” (NRSV Notes).  Luke wasn’t there so what can we really know or reasonably imagine?

Luke clearly intends to tell it like it happened, as best as he can.  However, we know from Luke’s style that he uses speeches to make Luke points (NRSV Notes) so Peter’s speech is a literary creation.  Peter put a guilt trip on the crowd, which is a step away from “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”  (Luke 23-34)  Maybe Luke had his reasons, but who else may have spoken up on this dramatic occasion?  Luke tells us that 120 people, including women, and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and his brother were in the upper room, and that they all came back on Pentecost when they all began to speak in every language.  What might the other 119 have said?  Luke tells us that these people were witnesses.  There were 120 witnesses who experienced Jesus, up close and personal.  They were his family and his friends.  How wonderful it would be if we knew what they all had to say.  Let’s pretend we are Luke and use our imagination.

Jesus had called them all to be his witnesses, they all were given the power of the Holy Spirit to speak boldly – in public – to a crowd of people, all of them, each with their own personal experience of Jesus.  Let’s use our imagination.  An elderly widow spoke up and said, “I was sick and afraid that no one would be able to take care of me, and Jesus told me, ‘Don’t be afraid.  My friends will take care of you,’ and they do.  I have a new life because of Jesus.”  A young person started telling their story, “They thought I had died, and I thought maybe they were right, but Jesus said, ‘Don’t be afraid.  Get up and have something to eat,’ and here I am good as new.”  A woman said, “I was on the street and Jesus and his friends took me in.  I don’t have to sell my body any more, or be afraid someone will kill me for being sinful.”  James, Jesus’ brother added, “He was my big brother.  He took risks that I would have been afraid to take.  He was my hero.  I followed him everywhere.  He taught me not to be afraid.”

Let us continue to use our imagination.  Luke does not specifically mention Mary of Magdala as being among the 120, but as one of Jesus’ closest friends, we can be sure she was there.  So we have Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Mary of Magdala, who was never a prostitute, together.  What would they have said to the crowd?  Close your eyes and imagine.  What would they say?  Luke did it, so can you.  You really can imagine what Mary of Magdala and Mary would have said to the crowd.  Yes, you can.  Jesus told his friends over and over.  “Don’t be afraid,” or the positive equivalent, “Peace be with you.”  Mary and Mary of Magdala would not have been afraid to tell their stories.  Women tell stories to great effect.  It’s what they do.  This 2023 CE Pentecost is an opportunity to imagine the stories that the two most important women in Jesus’ life told the crowd.  The Holy Spirit will provide the inspiration.  You may not have a crowd in the street, although it still happens, but you have the cloud.  You can be the voices that Luke left out.

Peace be with you,

John, jpc

The Easter season makes me hope for the day when women achieve full membership in our Church because, you may ask, they would take Jesus down off the cross, every Sunday, not just once a year. Jesus died on the cross once.  Then he was raised to life forever.  Our Church has put him back on the cross.  When women are at the table where the Church agendas are set, they will correct this long-standing mistake.  Let us go to the beginning.

The early Church experienced Jesus’ crucifixion in two ways, fear and scandal.  Fear that they too may be singled out and die the same death.  Romans crucified anyone in their far-flung empire who they thought were a problem.  There are stories told of roads being lined with crucified people, and on the day Jesus died, two others were crucified on the same hill.  Crucifixion was a common event, put where people would see it, with the implied message – this could happen to you if you cross the Romans.  So fear was real and justified.

You didn’t brag that you had a family member crucified any more than today you would brag that a family member was in prison or worse.  The early Church didn’t talk about how Jesus died.  It was not a point of pride that their leader died a criminal’s death.  Writers today and even scripture accounts themselves tell us that Jesus was crucified because he was seen as a dangerous criminal threat to the prevailing order.  So why have we left him on the cross?  Men took over the Church’s agenda and convinced themselves that Jesus’ death by crucifixion “satisfied God’s justice” (a quote from the Baltimore Catechism).  Men projected their own perceived need for justice onto an infinite God, who needed infinite justice, and giving Jesus a painful death would accomplish that.  They believed.  So, they put him back on the cross and have left him there.  Women will take him down.  So why is this so important?  What would happen if we experienced the resurrected Jesus?  Paul, our great evangelist tells us.

Paul didn’t know Jesus until he met the resurrected Jesus on the road to Damascus.  He tells us of the power of this experience when he asks Ananias, “What am I to do?” and then Paul, who had been attacking the Church took the message of Jesus to the Gentiles.  We call this conversion.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were like Paul.  They did not know Jesus until they knew him as resurrected from the dead.  We know this because they answered the call to collect and write about Jesus, decades after Jesus died.  There were other prophets and other people, who had been crucified by the Romans, but only one person who was raised from the dead.  It was the Risen Jesus that they came to know, and then asked, “What are we called to do?”  The result is our four Gospels.

We almost certainly would know nothing about Jesus (there is one short paragraph in an obscure history book) unless Paul with his letters and the Gospel writers had not come to know the resurrected Jesus and asked, what am I to do?  There would be no memory of Jesus; no community of believers if they had not come to know Jesus as raised.  But how do we know that women will help us find opportunities for us to meet the resurrected Jesus?  Let’s go back to the beginning again.  Women did not respond to Jesus’ death and resurrection in the same way as men.

Who was at the foot of the cross?  Women and one man.  All the other men had fled.  Women overcame their fear.  Women went to anoint the body.  They were not ashamed that Jesus died a criminal’s death.  And, they were rewarded by being the first to meet the resurrected Jesus, who told them to go tell the men.  It was the women, who were first given the message of resurrection.  That commission continues today. 

It is my expectant hope that when women achieve full membership in the Church that they will take Jesus down off the cross.  Every Sunday will be an Easter Sunday where we will meet the resurrected Jesus, then ask ourselves, “What are we called to do?”

Peace and happy Easter!

A Blessed New Year to you!

May you have good health,
joy-filled celebration and peace.

May you giggle and laugh, hug and cry,
embrace and love,
always abiding in God’s love.

To you who are standing faithful and strong in the ashes:

May the skies clear of fighter jets 
to let the warm sun kiss your face;

May the sirens and explosions cease
that you may hear the chirping of the birds near and far;

May the rains take smoke, dust and ash from the air
that you may see the blue sky and bright yellow flowers, 
the colors of your flag surrounding you in Ukraine glory;

May the waters, teeming with fish, run clear and pure
to quench your thirst and refresh your body;

May the hatching of feathered friends and birth of furry critters
bring hope of a future with new life;

May the attacks, the violence and the fear come to an end
that you may come out of dark, cold bunkers into fresh air
where elders of wisdom sit on benches, engaged in storytelling
and children run and laugh and play in the sunshine;

May men and women return to their storefronts, to planting their crops,
to cooking the meals and baking the bread, to bottling the wine, 
to healing the sick, to educating the students, to writing the books, 
painting and sculpting, playing in concerts and singing in chorus;

May the mothers birth their babies, cradle and nourish them
for they are the future of Ukraine;

May you rise from the ashes to Resurrection, 
through Christ, with Christ, in Christ!  May it be.

+Joan on April 16, 2022

May our loving God bless and keep you.

May God’s face shine upon you and be gracious to you.

May God look upon you with kindness and give you peace.

Book of Numbers, chapter 6

Christ is rising in the fertile eggs 
protected by Mama Goose’s wings 
as she sits on her carefully feathered nest.

Christ is rising in the bright yellow daffodils
pushing up through the rich brown earth, 
reaching for the sun’s warm light.

Christ is rising in the hands of medical staff
bringing healing to the very ill and injured,
and comforting touch to those passing over.

Christ is rising in the scientists and lab technicians
producing life-saving vaccines with the promise 
that we will be able to hug one another again.

Christ is rising in the hearts of compassionate people 
feeding the hungry, calling out injustice 
and welcoming the stranger. 

Christ is rising in the cries of the newborns 
bringing hope to us all, for Christ says, 
these are my prophets, poets, teachers and artists, 
engineers, musicians and future leaders. 
“Do not be afraid, for see, I make all things new.”

Christ is rising in the sun 
lifting our spirits and energizing us.
Christ is rising in the moon 
allowing us rest and peaceful sleep.

Christ is risen.  Christ is rising.  
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!

+Joan Clark Houk      Easter, April 4, 2021

Dust to Dust – A Reflection

                  By John Houk

When we lived in a multi and diverse Church environment in Eastern Kentucky, Joan discovered opportunities to bring Churches together for some common celebration.  Ash Wednesday was one such opportunity.  I have memories of Protestant participants getting ashes on their foreheads for the first time.  One woman said to me, with enthusiasm, “This is the first time I’ve been ashed!”  She had “been ashed.”  For the first time.  I let that sink in.

I’m old school Catholic so “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return” is what being ashed has always meant to me.  I don’t struggle with the newer “good news” version of being ashed, but that is not where my mind is on Ash Wednesday.  My mind is on dust.

Genesis comes right out and says God made us from the dust of the earth.  The name, Adam, means earth creature so they say, and my dust beginning.  But ending as dust, what does that mean?

Anyone who has kept house knows dust.  Are we saying that our dusting cloth contains someone else’s dust?  Really?  Of course, we can’t say for sure, but I know dust.

In learning how to build things in Arctic Alaska I came to know that much of the ground there was composed of dust from someplace else, mostly Siberia.  We are not talking a “dusting” but feet, even yards deep dust.  It’s called loess to engineers who must learn to work with it and build things on it.  First, if it is frozen in place, for heaven’s sake don’t thaw it out.  OK, back to dust.

So dust often comes from far away.  In Alaska it comes from Siberia.  In the lower U.S. it comes with the prevailing wind from Asia and sometimes from Africa and the Middle East.  It seems like everything is from China lately, even the dust on your table top.  Dust gets around.  It is statistically probable that every surface in our home contains dust from far away places.  But that’s not the end of the story.  There is new dust and there is old dust; some dust is so old that it was dust when we were being created.

The more I know about dust, the more I like it.  Dust floats in the air.  Dust is not stuck in one place.  Local dust gets mixed with dust from every place else.  New dust is mixed with old dust, really old dust, Biblical dust, Roman dust, OK, Chinese dust.  Dust is the ultimate equalizer; the ultimate organic unifier.  I like dust.

I doubt that the well-dressed Protestant woman’s mind was on the equalizing and unifying qualities of the ashes / dust on her forehead, but maybe it was.  I believe she felt part of a wider Church that she may never have felt before because it showed in her enthusiasm for being ashed.  Ash Wednesday can do that for a person.

Dust to dust we say, at least we used to say.  We know that’s how we began, and now we know what becoming dust can mean.  Yes, it means being humble, but also it means organic oneness.  Dust never means isolation or being forgotten.  Whose dust is on your table, or perhaps better, whose dust is at your table?  And don’t forget to get ashed.

John

Bikes and balls and sunny sky,
Flowers, fruit and corn grown high,
Critters, birds and kittie cats,
Snow and sleds and soft warm hats,

Rain and ponds for catching fish,
Cake with ice cream in a dish,
School and books and fun vacations,
Cups of tea and relaxation,

Evening walks and campfire chairs,
S’mores and hot dogs in fresh air,
First responders, good friends too,
Loving family, and especially, you.

We give thanks for God’s blessings!
Joan Houk     November 1, 2020

An October 2020 Reflection written by John Houk 

While Joan is “busy with many things” I have time to reflect, and October is my favorite month.  I remember another October when Joan was invited to participate in the ordination of a new bishop that would take place in Stuttgart.  She asked me if I would like to go along.  My response was Germany in October?  Of course, I want to go, and I want us to go a few days early so we can enjoy Oktoberfest, and so we did.  

The room in our motel was average size, but the exterior window was huge, floor to ceiling almost wall to wall so we could look out on the world with, of course, the world looking in on us.  The bathroom with its shower was set off with walls.  The shower wall itself faced the living space, with its great glass window, and the shower wall was clear glass.

“Adam and his wife, Eve, heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and they hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.  But the Lord God called to Adam and said, ‘Where are you?’  Adam answered, ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked.’  God said, ‘Who told you you were naked?’”  The Lord God’s question continues to echo down through the ages.  Who told Adam he was naked?

October is the month we remember Saint Francis.  I love the story of his conversion from rich kid to poor man, and the freedom he experienced and now shares with us 800 years later.  He was free to be.  Francis, the poor man, was free to be himself.  In the October of our lives, can we be free to be ourselves?  Walk with me as we reflect on these two questions.

Adam was a creature of the natural world, then, suddenly it seems, he wasn’t.  The story says that he had “eaten of the tree of good and evil.”  Adam has now become a judge between good and bad.  Well, yes, of course, that’s what we descendants of Adam do; we judge between good and bad.  But wait!  What happens next?  Adam became afraid.  Someone told him he was naked, and now that he was a judge between good and bad, he made the judgement that being naked before God was a bad thing.  So who told Adam that he was naked?  He did.  Adam would now need to make judgements concerning his behavior and the morality of situations, but just being Adam did not separate himself from God.  That was Adam’s mistake.  Adam was still Adam, and God was still God.

Now let’s reflect on the second question.  Can we, like Francis, be free to be ourselves?  Legend tells us that Francis didn’t have a lot going for him.  He was small, not particularly attractive, had no money and only one old brown robe.  He was one of God’s creatures in God’s world, not separate from it.  He was comfortable in his skin, as they say.  Francis was a non-judgmental person.  That was his conversion from rich kid to poor man.  He didn’t judge others, he didn’t judge the world in which he lived, and most important of all, he didn’t judge himself.

That’s nice for our little poor man, Francis, but it is not the real world we live in; at least it’s not my world, you may want to say.  O.K., but it is God’s world.  Two worlds are set before us in stark contrast in the two stories we read in the book of Genesis.  First we read about creation from God’s point of view – God’s world.  Then we read about creation from Adam’s point of view – Adam’s world.  Which world is the real world?  Jesus tried to answer that question.

Jesus, the Messiah of God, insisted that God’s world was the real world and God’s world was not a meritocracy.  Our sense that we must earn God’s love is an illusion. In God’s world there is no need to judge ourselves as good or bad.  Do not be afraid.  God loves you.  Jesus said it over and over.  There is no reason to fear God.  God does not judge us.  We are God’s children.  Later, take a moment to read again the first creation story where the word “good” is used seven times – the perfect number.  That includes us.  “God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good.”  Jesus lived it.  Francis tried to live it.  October is a great month for us to remember it.  In the October of our lives we remain God’s children even with, especially with, all the accumulated grit of our lives.

In our Stuttgart motel room with its great glass window and its clear glass shower we showered off the grit of our overnight flight and became refreshed for a new day.  Showers are like that.

The next time you shower, step out of the shower and stand in front of the mirror then do two things, drop your towel then sing this little song from our childhood.
Jesus love me this I know 
for the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to him belong,
I am weak but he is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves me,
yes, Jesus loves me,
yes, Jesus loves me,
the Bible tells me so.

Pax et bonum,
John

Inferno on the ground; toxic air above.
Fleeing; can’t breathe.

Hurricane winds from above; surging waters from below.
Houses gone; life is drowned.

Are you listening?
Citizens of the U.S.A., are you paying attention?

This is the Season of Creation, September 1 until
October 4, the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi.
What we do to creation, we do to ourselves,
for we are part of creation — not separate, but one with all.