Dr. Karla J. Bellinger

Dec 10 2024

Listen to the Voice

I have been proclaiming the wonderful deeds of Jesus since I was a girl. Even if they threaten me, I will stand up and tell. His love changed my life. His story must be told:

My job was to tend the fire outside the synagogue entry. I was just a girl. Every Sabbath, the men arrived to talk and argue about the law. They never saw me. On this day, he saw me. He smiled at me as he went inside.

The coals of the fire glowed red and orange. I placed another log on the flames. I heard his voice: “The Lord has sent me to set captives free,” he said, “to give sight to the blind.” My heart pulsed like the embers in that fire. This was love. The men were awed at his preaching. He sat. He said, “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” The silence was thick. I knew it then in my heart. This was the One we had been waiting for.

His preaching was not enough for some. My father’s brother asked him to do a special miracle just for Nazareth. I knew my uncle, who only wanted something to boast about. That was not love. That was cold. Even a young girl could see that. I started to object, but my father muttered, “Be still!” Jesus saw their coldness. His eyes looked sad.

They grew angry. They wanted to hurt him. I don’t know how he got away. But he did.

They can behead me if they like. I will be faithful to my call to speak of him. There has never been anyone so loving as Jesus. I will not be still. Like Jeremiah, I will speak! God will be with me, with a love that radiates like a fire in my bones.

I will speak!

Consider/Discuss

Today’s Gospel story is like a family reunion gone wrong. Jesus has come home. And some of his neighbors are not content simply to hear him preach, even though “gracious words came out of his mouth.” They want their native son to put them on the map with signs and wonders. Jeremiah the prophet also found himself unwelcome in Israel. What is it about human nature that we listen least to those who are closest and are most impressed by those from far away, especially more than fifty miles away? Why do we do that?
We are all called to speak of the love that we have received. Evangelization is not just for priests and preachers. In the early church, ordinary people told the story of Jesus, even if it meant death, even if it meant being ostracized by family. How are you and I called to speak today?

Living and Praying with the Word

Living Word, thank you for vocal cords. Texts and emails are fine, but thank you for the warmth of a voice. There are some voices that we no longer hear, ones that we hope to hear, and voices that we haven’t always appreciated until they are silent. Help us to savor the voices of those who love us, those who are close by. Help us to really hear them. They are a gift to us. Thank you for the gift of voice. Help us to use it well.

Dec 09 2024

When Beauty Sweeps In

The conductor steps up to the platform, bows to the audience, turns to the orchestra and raises the baton. There is a hush. Hands and instruments are still. All eyes are on the podium. For that split second, no movement, no noise, an air of expectation. Then delicately, the baton dips. The violins begin to play. The cellos join in. The music swells and then fades. The virtuoso soloist takes the bow to the Stradivarius violin, and Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D major sweeps in, in all its beauty.

That delicate moment of stillness as a master conductor—when Leonard Bernstein raised his baton—was there a similar quiet when Ezra took the platform to read the newly-found law to the Jews? Was there was an expectant stillness in the synagogue when Jesus stood up to read from the scroll of Isaiah?

That hushed moment is a moment of promise. Something beautiful is about to begin.

The beauty of Ezra’s law is access to God. God the Beautiful is clean and holy. If a Jew wants to come close to God, then he or she has to be clean and holy. The law is the way. “The law of the Lord is perfect, refreshing the soul,” the psalmist sings. The law is deeply beloved for the access that it provides. The people weep. They want to see God.

The beauty of the coming of Jesus is access to God. The law has been fulfilled: Jesus himself is the Way. The Spirit of the Lord is upon him. The kingdom has come. The law has swept into all its glory in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. The love of God has come in human form.

Today’s Gospel is the hush before Jesus’ ministry starts. Something beautiful is about to begin.

Consider/Discuss

Luke begins the story of Jesus today, a story of healing and redemption and God’s self-gift. In these hushed winter nights, read through the whole Gospel to get the sweep of the symphony. How does the beauty of the whole story touch you?
Many nights, I listen to Itzhak Perlman play Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D major before I fall asleep. The beauty of it leads me into the hush of prayer. St. Augustine prays, “Late have I loved thee, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new. Late have I loved thee.” How do you allow beauty to lead you to God the Beautiful?

Living and Praying with the Word

Holy Spirit, Holy Conductor, hush our noise. As you lift your baton, help us to focus our eyes on you and get ready to play. You give each of us a different instrument, a different part, a unique role in the symphony of life. St. Paul asks us to play our part faithfully. As we head into Ordinary Time in these ordinary days, we don’t know what this New Year will hold. But we believe that your desire is to create something beautiful—liberty to captives, sight to the blind, freedom for the oppressed. Direct us in our part toward that beauty. For yours is the kingdom, the power, and the glory!

Dec 09 2024

Fencing with God

I read the first line from Isaiah: “I will not be silent . . . I will not keep still” and I burst with exasperation: “Come on, God! Do it! Talk a little more! If there was ever a time when we need you to show yourself, it’s now. Don’t be so silent! Don’t be stingy with your revelation. So many folks don’t feel that you are here, that you are at work in this world. Come on! Show yourself!”

Is it okay to have a fencing match with God?

I hope so. Jacob wrestled an angel for a blessing. Jeremiah rebutted that he was too young to be a prophet. Moses argued, “No, not really, send someone else.”

There are times, maybe, when we just want God to do something. Stop working so behind the scenes: “Come on, God!” Does Mary feel that way? Yes; she is the mother who does not sin, but she experiences emotion. Here at the wedding, she seems frustrated. She loves these relatives. She trusts how big-hearted Jesus is—surely he can do something! “They have no wine,” she says. Their repartee is like fencing: back and forth they go at it, like devoted old married folks who believe in their love. Mary does not let it go: Do something, Jesus!

Jesus’ response isn’t stingy. The wine overflows. Sixty gallons of the choicest drink pours forth. That abundance reveals his generosity in the first of his signs. Mary’s swordplay pays off.

I don’t often get an answer to my jousting with God. But as I was driving under a railroad bridge once, coming home from an appointment, I thought perhaps, maybe, I got a comeback? In my head, I heard, “Come on, Karla!”

Touché, God.

Consider/Discuss

Today’s reading from John runs on many levels, from the miracle story on the surface, to allusions to the generosity of God at baptism, to the overflowing richness of the heavenly banquet. On how many levels is God being revealed in our world right now? Are we seeing it? If we want the world to change, what’s our responsibility in helping that to happen?
Is it okay to have a fencing match with God? Do you do that sometimes, too? Mary trusted that Jesus would respond. And he did, generously. What has been your experience? Has arguing with God changed something? If you don’t spar with God, what keeps you from getting into the fray?

Living and Praying with the Word

Living God, thank you for your generosity in my life. I don’t always remember it. I don’t always feel it. And I mourn for those who do not know you, who have not been overwhelmed by your love, who seem to walk all alone without seeing your support. They have no wine. I love them. It is for them I pray; it is for their sake that I wrestle with you. Show yourself to them.

And yes, I will get going, too. Help me. Show yourself through me. I know that I have much more loving and serving to do on this earth before I am done. I am willing to do it. Through your grace, God, well, let’s go make some wine!

Or maybe some tea?

Dec 09 2024

Wham! It’s the Holy Spirit!

He called from his basement bedroom, “Mom, something ran over my blanket in the night!” “It’s fine, go back to sleep,” I called back. He moved upstairs the next night and slept on the living room floor. Again he called, “Mom, something ran over me!”

There was something. It was making noises in the house. My daughter pointed. “Mom, there’s something above the curtain.” I looked up. Two little round eyes looked down at me. We could not catch it. But it was there.

For several days, we heard little noises. I heard a rattle in the cupboard. I opened the door. Suddenly, springing from among the cups, a flurry of motion buzzed my head and stopped on the stairway behind me. I turned around. I saw it. A flying squirrel stared at me from the fourth step.

In today’s story of the baptism of Jesus, we often overlook the third character in this story. We clearly see John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth. But the Holy Spirit is here as well, breaking in, doing something new. Were there noises in Jesus’ life before his baptism by John? He had many hidden years that we know nothing about. Then suddenly—wham!—the “dove” of the Holy Spirit—whoosh— buzzes past his head! And his ministry begins.

Why does God work like that? The Holy Spirit is quiet, silent, maybe making a few little noises, then you turn the corner and whoosh! Wham! Something happens.

The author of Titus must have experienced it, too. In today’s reading, he writes of a bath of rebirth and renewal. Strikingly, he uses the Greek word “gushed out” for the way the Spirit moves. Gushed out. Whoosh! Rebirth and renewal happens.

This new year of 2022—is the Spirit rattling around in your house?

Consider/Discuss

Sometimes we turn a corner and whoosh! There is God. For some it comes early in life. For others, a major transformation comes in early midlife, as the baptism was for Jesus. Some may hear the noises of the Holy Spirit for many years and have no idea who that is until a very late age. It can be like turning a gradual corner. It can be abrupt, like a flying squirrel buzzing your head. How have you experienced God transforming you and your life? What has that been like?
We don’t know the “when.” We cannot catch the Spirit’s presence, but there it is, nevertheless. The baptism of Jesus set him on a new track. This week, take a little extra time to pray to the (sometimes overlooked) Holy Spirit: “Come, Holy Spirit, and renew the face of the earth.” Then be ready for whatever comes! To what path is the Lord calling you in this New Year?

Living and Praying with the Word

Holy Spirit, you are often so quiet. You make little noises in our lives. In Jesus’ day, the people were on tiptoe with expectation as they waited for the Messiah that John promised. Help us to be on tiptoe with expectation for you as well. We have no control over when you come. But ready us for your gush! Come, Holy Spirit, come, with your transforming power! We are watching for you.

Dec 09 2024

!sgnisselB ynahpipE

Maybe we have things backwards.

The first time I thought that, I was lying in a sleeping bag on the ground under the big sky of Montana.

For seventeen years, I had been surrounded by trees. My view of the horizon had always been limited by leaves and branches. But now, here, lying on the plains, the sky was so big! The nighttime was immense. I tossed and turned on the hard dirt, feeling exposed. I awoke often to marvel at so many stars. When I turned my head all the way to the right, there was sky. When I turned my head all the way to the left, there was sky. When I rested my head to look upward, there was sky.

Then something began to lighten the darkness. I fell back asleep. When I awoke, a huge star had come up in the east. It was the star that we call the sun. The sky was ablaze with light! That’s when I realized: we have it backwards. Day is not interrupted by night. It is the night that is the constant—always there, beyond the sunlight. The night is the given. The day is the surprise. We look at it backwards.

Maybe the magi looked at things backwards, too. They were among the scholars of their day. But theirs may have been a minority opinion. That star in the east heralds the birth of a king? In the land of the Jews? Not likely. Even if they have a king, they are the Chosen People. Their king would not come for you, a Gentile. Don’t make the trip. You will only be disappointed.

What did they find? O star of wonder, star of might, star with royal beauty bright! They fell to their knees in wonder. Maybe God does things backwards, not as we expect.

Consider/Discuss

What we can see and touch and measure—that is what constitutes scientific “reality.” Some who work in that realm tell us that there is no other reality. But perhaps that majority opinion contains a confirmation bias. If they’re all looking at reality in the same way, maybe that becomes the common consensus? What if that is backwards? What if that which we cannot see and touch and measure is the ultimate reality? How might that be an epiphany?
The feast of the Epiphany celebrates the in-breaking of light. The darkness is the given; the light is the surprise. This week, how could we allow ourselves to be amazed by the radiance of created light? By watching the snow glisten, the stars twinkle, and the rising sun in the morning? How does the light that we see lead us into the glory of the One whom we cannot see?

Living and Praying with the Word

God, sometimes you seem to revel in doing things backwards. The psalmist says that you watch over the poor and the needy, those who don’t really matter in the power structures of the world. You set the planets in the night and then give us the sun at just the right distance to make our crops grow. You surround us with just the right amount of warmth when so many planets are too warm or too cold.

Help us to receive your backward surprises this day! Set us ablaze! You have come in glory to dispel the darkness of our lives. We may not be your Chosen People. But you came to shine your radiance on us as well. Glory to you, Light of the world!