By Father Casey

I've known people who, when looking for guidance from God, will close their eyes, open their Bible, and point. Whatever verse or passage they see is taken to be a message God has for them. There is a fun sort of randomness to this exercise, and I don't want to underestimate the ability of the Holy Spirit to move our digits and communicate through nearly anything, but I'm uncomfortable with treating the Bible like a roulette wheel.

In my experience, we are more likely to hear God speaking in the Scriptures when we return to them time and again – when we treat the Bible not as a vending machine out of which we can extract a desired product, but like a bath in which we immerse ourselves on a regular basis. Frankly, when I've heard God speaking to me from the Bible, it was just the opposite of the roulette wheel exercise. Rather than me blindly opening the Bible up and pointing, it felt like God was the one doing the opening and pointing.

Let me offer an example. In the last two weeks, I've been directed back to Philippians 4:4-9 three different times. The first time was in connection with our Vestry retreat. I had been seeking a passage that we could pray with together, and that reading kept coming to my mind. That same week it was the epistle selected by two separate families for funerals of loved ones. Three unrelated occasions, same passage of Scripture. There are coincidences and there are coincidences, and this one got my attention.

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you."

So now what? If God really is pointing me toward this passage, what might it be about? Well, with Lent beginning next week, I've been considering how I could honor the season this year – what disciplines I might embrace in order to grow as a disciple of Christ – and it would seem that God is eager to help me. If Lent is a 40-day journey through the wilderness with Jesus, then God is handing me a compass.

After some time to pray and reflect, I've begun to crystallize my plans for Lent. I'm not yet sure of the specifics, but I know I will focus on gentleness. We are living in a time when everything seems to be loud and intense. Brute force has become our national operating strategy. We no longer negotiate, we coerce. We don't discuss, we demand. And even though I recognize our wandering away from what we were, I don't always practice the better way. I don't always remember to let my "gentleness be known to everyone."

And I know I need to spend more time with things that are true and honorable, just and pure. My soul is struggling to bear up to the diet of suffering that we've been consuming in the daily news, and I will need more time with things that are "worthy of praise" to endure. Our baptismal work of striving for justice and peace among all people is not only about resisting what is wrong; it is also about pursuing what is right. If all we ever do is feed on outrage, our souls will starve. Souls are nourished with goodness, truth, and beauty, so we need to spend time in those things on a regular basis, and that takes effort, because the world isn't terribly interested in the boring ordinariness of holiness. We have to seek it out.

So I'm planning some visits to art museums, scheduling more time in the garden, putting more poetry on my bedside table. I'm watching more Olympics and listening to more classical music. This will be a fast, you might say, by way of feeding.

I have to laugh at sharing this with you. After all, on Ash Wednesday we'll hear Jesus warn about those who practice their piety before others (Matthew 6:1). My humble hope is to spark some fresh thinking of your own about what Lent could be for you. Perhaps instead of blindly opening the Bible and pointing, you might pay attention to what's already happening in your life. God is not waiting for your permission or attention to care about you; indeed, God may even now be whispering at you, handing you a compass, showing you a better way to live.

Fr. Casey +