Dr. Karla J. Bellinger

Jan 12 2025

Taking God’s Love for Granted

As I work with good-hearted preachers, I hear in homilies repeatedly that God loves us and that we are to love God and our neighbor. Do you hear (or say) that, too? Some of us use “churchy words” over and over again. Might we not have a hard time transcending the superficial to say something fresh and new about love today when we have talked about love so many times? Love, love, love, blah, blah, blah . . .

How can we go deeper? For inspiration, we turn to a medieval Carmelite monk whose affection for God was so warm that his kindliness overflowed to others. Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection wrote in The Practice of the Presence of God that all counts for lost in the time that is not spent in loving God. Wherever he was, he practiced the presence of God. Whatever he did, he did with Jesus. He flipped an omelet with God; he repaired shoes with the Lord; he spoke with others while remaining attentive to the Holy Spirit within his heart. Three hundred years later, his little maxims about love of God and love of neighbor are still invigorating.

You and I, how can we love more deeply? We can be more constant in our communion with God. We can pray more often. Today’s psalmist offers us little words of love to pray all day, modeling for us how to cherish the living God: “I love you, O Lord, my strength, O Lord, my rock, my fortress, my deliverer!” Lifting up our hearts for thirty seconds, we can send our adorations to God. Loving tenderness then wells up within us and overflows to others.

We have little control over “how good” we are in prayer or in love. But we can be more constant with them both.

Consider/Discuss

With Brother Lawrence, we can gain the habit of being constant in practicing the presence of God. Partner with one other person to try that for one whole day. Share with one another what that experience was like.
Think about times when you have taken expressions of love for granted: at the end of a phone call, as one is going out the door, etc. What jogs you out of that fog to better appreciate who and what you have?

Living and Praying with the Word

O Lord our rock, our redeemer, our stronghold, do not let us take your love for granted! When we absorb the immensity of your care for us, then we want to love you with all our heart and soul and mind and strength. Deepen us this day. Well up in our hearts and help us to radiate your love to others. For through you and with you and in you, we have our being. We love you. We love you. We love you.

Jan 12 2025

Opening Your Invitation

“What a day this has been!” I sighed to my new wife as the last of the clouds turned orange over the sea. This morning as the sun rose in the eastern sky, my heart had beaten with excitement: the wedding is coming! We will feast for seven days! The clamor in the kitchens proclaims the abundance to come. My father the king is so kind. My cup will overflow with joy. All will be good.

Then all was not good. The guests would not come. They rejected his invitation. They mistreated and killed our servants. It felt as though a web of darkness had descended, like a veil covering their eyes. How could they so scorn his generosity? They twisted his open handed invitation into a disaster. I was devastated.

My father was not going to let me down. He sent out servants to bring in anyone, anyone at all, shouting into the streets, “Come to the feast, you will all be well fed!” He knew the new guests wouldn’t have wedding clothes, for they didn’t know that they would be invited. I watched the servants carry armloads of garments to the doors. All would be taken care of. And they started pouring in. The crippled and the beggars, the hungry and the weary—they all threw on the fine clothes that my father provided. Rich food and choice wine—oh, they had never tasted such goodness! They lacked for nothing. (There was one who tried to ruin the day, but enough talk of calamity.)

I turn my face to my bride. The look in her eyes and her eager “yes, yes, and yes!” more than make up for the numerous exclamations of “no!” this day. The night is here. A blessed new day will dawn.

Consider/Discuss

In what ways do we look into the Bridegroom’s eyes and bring him joy with our “yes, yes, and yes”? What do we look forward to in the new day that will dawn?
How has the lavishness of God fed us even when we have not expected it? What is our responsibility in response to that generosity?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, you are our God! You have been a refuge to the poor, a haven to the needy in times of distress. We are the poor. We are the needy. Sometimes we reject you and push you away and do not let you clothe us. Strengthen our “yes” so that it becomes eager and consistent, for we do not ever want to disappoint you. Lavish your Spirit upon us, for we hunger to partake of your feast.

Jan 12 2025

God the Gardener

On this day of honor for St. Francis of Assisi, the prophet Isaiah describes how much God the gardener cherishes the vineyard—such care, such choice vines the divine hand has planted! That image naturally turns my thoughts to my relationship with my garden. I too get attached to my plants. I start my lavender and tomatoes from seed. I place them into soil that I have composted and manured. But my attachment is only a semblance of the devotion that God has for the human vineyard.

Last summer when I came back from vacation, the bunnies had chewed all my pole beans at ground level. The deer had chomped the tops off the sunflowers. Oh, I was exasperated. Imagine the angst when the stone fence around your vineyard is allowed to crumble so that wild beasts trample and eat all your grapevines. When you deeply care about something, you are more deeply hurt when it is not cared for.

Jesus’ parable mirrors the Old Testament prophets’ solemn warnings to the leaders of Israel. The “Great-I-Am” is looking for fruit. But there is no fruit. God’s distress is with caregivers who do not give care. Leadership means to cherish and tend the vineyard, to do everything necessary to bring it to fruition.

As we read this series of vineyard parables in Matthew, we might question whether God is very “nice.” We hear death and destruction, the wrath of the landowner and handing the stewardship to another— Jesus’ ending is not “nice.” Though American culture places a high value on “niceness,” there is no “nice” in the Bible. God is merciful. God is kind. God also wants justice. God intends for this vineyard to be treated right. Woe to those who do not.

Consider/Discuss

We throw our whole heart into many things in life—gardens, children, relationships, parish, school, job, business, and so on. What does it feel like when something we care about yields “rotten grapes”? What role does (or doesn’t) “righteous indignation” play in the Christian life?
In my early days of gardening, I was too “nice” to thin overgrown perennials and throw out diseased tomatoes. As a result, the whole garden suffered. What are the challenges to “just letting things go”? How do we balance that with pruning for the “greater good”?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord our God, you are true. You are honorable. You are good. Thank you for caring for each of us and all of us so deeply. In whatever role you give us in life, send us your grace to discern how we are to lead and care for those whom you entrust to us. Help us to listen carefully to your warnings and not be so self-assured that we do not hear your correction. Not to us, but to you, is the glory when our efforts bear good fruit.

Jan 12 2025

Can You Be Coached?

I recall a blue sky, a hot grassy field at Sand Run field, and a dozen twelve- to thirteen-year-old boys in their red WASA soccer jerseys. “Out on the field,” I called to the team. “Sure, Coach,” a short-haired athletic boy yelled out as he jogged toward the goal. A bigger lad stood by the sideline with his arms crossed. He didn’t move. He didn’t look at me. His body language exuded “No.” What was I supposed to do? “Please? We want you out there.” He looked me in the eye, shrugged, and lumbered onto the field.

As the season went on, the first “willing” player was skilled and he let the other twelve-year-olds know that he was good—and that he didn’t feel that he could learn anything from me about soccer. He didn’t get any better.

The second “unwilling” player endured ridicule for being a little chunky and a little slow, but he paid attention. He had never played soccer before. But he learned. He got better. He never became a soccer legend, but he was a delight to coach.

Sometimes we may be tempted to get a little spiritually cocky. We know that we are loved. We know that we matter. We may be the first to jog out onto the field.

But sometimes we avoid looking God in the eye because we don’t think that we quite measure up. “Nah, I don’t really think so,” may be our response when someone tells us, “God loves you.” How could God be pleased with us? Want a relationship with us? Care about us?

Coachability—it makes all the difference. Jesus told the Pharisees that “tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.” The Lord wasn’t looking for the perfect. He was looking for the coachable.

Consider/Discuss

When is it hard to “look God in the eye”? In what ways do you (or do you not) feel that you have to be perfect in order to measure up to God?
Have you ever felt like you told God, “No”? What happened when that turned around to “Yes”? In what ways would you hope to be more coachable?

Living and Praying with the Word

Lord, I’m tired. I don’t want to pray. I want to go to bed. I want to curl up under the comforter and shut the world out. What’s that you say? You want my “no” to be “yes”? You’ll be listening to my breathing? Counting the hairs on my head? Moving within me even when I sleep? Oh. Okay. Well, come on then, let’s pray.

Jan 12 2025

Expectations Turned Upside Down

In a tight job market, ideal candidates may be handpicked—those with the best grade point average or the most personable smile, those who carry themselves as though they came from money, those with perfect teeth. The others don’t even get called for an interview, as if implicitly sending the message, “Don’t bother; we’re not hiring your kind.”

Who got picked early in the morning in Jesus’ vineyard story? A savvy winegrower would probably have told his foreman to choose the younger men first: the tall, the sturdy, and the strong—that is who we want to work in our fields. Who waited all day and got picked last? Maybe it was the old. Maybe it was the one-armed or the crippled. Property owners who sought for success might suggest to these workers, “Don’t bother; we don’t need your kind.”

This parable reminds me of gym class. We used to pick teams. (Do schools still do that?) I hate to admit it, but as a super-athletic kid, it was a buzz to be selected first. Maybe these guys who had worked all day in the vineyard carried that same swagger: “I’m good, I’m tough, I was picked first to work. And who are these losers? And why are you paying them the same wage as me?”

Jesus flips our expectations of success upside down in this parable. When the Lord rewards his team, he values more than outer appearance. He prizes the heart. He is open-handed with the late-bloomers. Certainly God’s ways are not our ways. Imagine God saying, “You, you, and you—you are wanted. You, you, and you—you are chosen.” Can you hear it? “Who, me? You want me?” God says, “Yes, yes, and yes! Good salary. Great benefits. I do want your kind. Come!”

Consider/Discuss

When have you been picked last (or first) for something? What did that feel like? How did that affect how you saw yourself? How does that influence the way that you feel about the marginalized?
“God wants you. God has chosen you.” Does that statement land differently depending on the successes that life has dealt you? Do the privileges that have come your way or the hardships you have endured affect how you see God’s innermost desire for you?

Living and Praying with the Word

Jesus, you continually chose surprising friends. The broken, the outcast, the unwanted—they all found a home in you. Your way of seeing people turns our imagination upside down, for your ways of measuring are not what we are used to. When we are stuck in certain patterns of thinking about the values of success and power, change our hearts. Help us to be merciful as you are merciful.