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Morning Devotion for the Season after Pentecost

November 11, 2022

Feast Day of Martin of Tours

Invitatory

Give thanks to the Lord, and call upon his Name; make known his deeds among the peoples.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

Reading: Isaiah 58:6-10

"Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh? Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, Here I am. "If you take away from the midst of you the yoke, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday.



Meditation – Peter Vanderveen

I’m firmly of the mind that food tastes better in Paris. I don’t know exactly why, and to the best of my knowledge this isn’t true only with regard to highly acclaimed restaurants. I’ve felt this way when eating a humble egg sandwich in a rather lowly neighborhood café. Maybe the difference can best be highlighted by noting that for Parisians food preparation and consumption is an art, while for us it is far more a science. They delight in the process of cooking. We’ve now reached the point of being able to order pre-made frozen entrees that can be popped into specially made ovens that automatically heat the food according to information conveyed by digital codes. Parisians are attentive to the pleasures of sitting at table and conversing. We often reduce meals to refueling, counting carbs and proteins, eating while we’re already on the run to something else.

A common trope in the Bible is that the text itself should be “eaten.” Obviously this is not meant to be a literal command; it’s a prompt that we should somehow make the text internal to ourselves, so that it becomes part of us (like far too many pop songs from our youth that reside somewhere deep in our memory, that, even decades later, we can immediately quote in full without any effort at all). The well-known Collect in the Book of Common Prayer encourages us to “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest” the Scriptures.

But in which mode – as Parisians or Americans?

Our natural inclination is to read the Bible looking for ways to reduce the text to something else: a set of rules or principles or policies or actions that should be taken. We want to know what we should do so that we can quickly get it done. In this manner, Isaiah, it seems, urges us – now translated into our vernacular – to work for justice or advocate for the poor or serve in a soup kitchen. These become the themes that we recite and the actions that we periodically undertake. But their sheer ubiquity and predictableness dilutes their power. Most people have neither the time nor the interest to be seriously engaged. These are piecemeal enterprises.

I think, however, that Isaiah’s text should be read like Parisians dine: luxuriating over what is set before us. Isaiah wasn’t a bureaucrat. He wasn’t recommending specific social structures or distinct programs to alleviate poverty. Nor was he saying clumsily as a prophet what could be better said by an expert. This text is more like a song. It’s meant to be sung, not interpreted. It’s meant to be a melody that we can draw up any time, that can inform our intentions and actions, however directly or indirectly, making our interactions with others an art and not an obligation. For when we set anything between ourselves and others, we cease to truly see them because we’re being directed by a decree instead – disregarding taste for convenience and satisfaction for an impoverished efficiency.

Read these verses as if they were a sumptuous feast. Then they’ll show their richness.

The Lord's Prayer

Our Father, who art in heaven,

    hallowed be thy Name,

    thy kingdom come,

    thy will be done,

        on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

    as we forgive those

        who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

    but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,

    and the power, and the glory

   for ever and ever. Amen.