St.

Paul’s Devotional Book


Dear Parishioners,
This is the Ash Wednesday edition of our Lenten devotional book.
Our theme is The Peaceable Kingdom and we commend these wonderful writings
for your consideration and appreciation. Some are short, some are long; all are
from the heart. There is space foryour own reflection provided as well.
May your Lent be holy and your spirit renewed.
Faithfully,
Sue
The Rev. Sue Eaves, Interim Rector
ASH WEDNESDAY
Truly, I tell you, unless you change and become
like children, you will never enter the kingdom of
heaven. Matthew 18:3
By Anne Snyder
A friend of mine overheard her son, then six, praying, with total sincerity and
innocence. “Blessed be the Father, Son, and holy toast”.
While we in our adult, frequent hubris might look askance at his slightly differ-
ent interpretation, perhaps if we remember Jesus’ admonition that if we will not
allow ourselves to view God with the unfiltered, unbiased honesty of children,
rather than our overly developed, critical selves we may be fighting one of the
very things that allows us to have faith, a faith that does not need to see but ex-
periences God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit in the simplest, unadorned things in life. It
requires us to become dependent, as a priest once said, God required his Son to
be by having him come to earth and an infant, which shows total trust and love
for us.
It does not mean we are childish and immature. It does tell us that in the most
innocent and in many cultures, insignificant of human beings we may find the
clues to allow faith to develop and grow as children develop and grow.
Ask yourself: How do I interact with God’s creation? Do I approach Jesus and
his teachings with an open mind and heart or an intellectual agenda to prove or
disprove a belief I already hold.? If I am burdened with filters that prevent my
experiencing the gift of God including Jesus how can I learn to approach my faith
with simplicity and without distraction?
 ASH WEDNESDAY
Matthew 18:3: Truly, I tell you, unless you change and become like children,
you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
By Linda Willis
When working with children in Godly Play, the Parable stories open with some-
one asking Jesus “What does the Kingdom Heaven look like?” Once the children
have heard one of these stories, they are quick to share what they know each
time it is presented.
For example, they can quickly tell the group when the Mustard Seed story is pre-
sented that when the seed grows into a large tree, birds come from everywhere,
build their nests and live in peace and happiness. Each child is invited to place a
nest on any branch they want and then to place a bird in the nest. They patiently
wait their turn and if a special branch they had their eye on is chosen by someone
else, they move to another spot. Quite the peaceable kingdom within the class-
room!
The children are free from hurtful words and are completely teachable. They are
eager to share their knowledge of the story and to help their friends understand.
Young children do not desire authority, but are simple and humble and depen-
dent on their parents. Of course, all too soon outside influences change these
innocent ones. But the kingdom of heaven that Jesus is speaking of in this verse
will be made up of people who have changed in heart and mind and become like
little children. Imagine what a joyful place that kingdom will be when there is no
struggle for who is first, who has more, or who is smarter!
ASH WEDNESDAY
Matthew 18:3: Truly, I tell you, unless you change and become like children,
you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
By Liz Whitehurst
I recently had the pleasure of attending the play, Finding Neverland, which
loosely chronicled the life of J.M. Barrie, author of the classic, Peter Pan.
Throughout the musical, the audience witnessed Barrie’s creative process unfold,
as everyday reality sparked his imagination and formed the basis for characters
and events. In the play’s final scene, the boy who was Barrie’s model for the char-
acter of Peter Pan, revealed that he, Peter, was NOT the boy who never grew up.
It was J.M. Barrie himself.
While Barrie did exhibit elements of childishness, as he played with the real-life
Peter and his brothers, a child-like quality he possessed caught my attention
during the play, taking me back to this Biblical text. Could one of the aspects of
changing and becoming like children, Jesus was talking about be Barrie’s modus
operandi? Namely, wonder?
For Barrie, the wonder of candlelight reflecting off silverware at the dinner table,
along with the dinner bell, transmogrified into the fairy Tinker Bell. The shadow
of the crook of a cane became Captain Hook’s defining feature. The children’s
grandmother’s bitter, biting personality morphed into Hook’s nemesis, the croco-
dile.
This ability to truly see, to wake up from our grown-up sleep and to experience
wonder, can seem hard. For me, nature is the easiest place to both practice and
experience wonder. Be it a deep purple and scarlet sunset or seagulls twirling
in circular patterns over the river, in wonder, I wake up. I focus. My heart opens
and I experience reality in quite a different way.
I wonder if Jesus’ message to the disciples in this passage could be: Find the child
within you, who is still alive and well. Your ability to experience wonder can be
reawakened at any time. And, as Jesus also suggests in this text, that child-like
wonder can become a portal to a Divine hyper-reality, which surrounds and
interpenetrates our own. The Kingdom of God. Here. Now.
 ASH WEDNESDAY
Matthew 18:3: Truly, I tell you, unless you change and become like children,
you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

In recent years I helped my mother write and print out her memoirs on the
occasion of her 85th birthday. It was a privilege and joy, but it also resurrect-
ed childhood memories long buried. Among them was the story that I was
the toddler who refused to toddle. Mom would stand behind me, holding my
hands, encouraging those baby steps. But when she gently removed her fingers
I’d promptly sit down rather than risk a fall. She finally fooled me, holding out
round clothespins. Off I would go, arms in the air, holding onto those wooden Keep a simple and holy Lent
pegs as if she were still there. (Somehow my noticing she wasn’t and gaining the
confidence to keep going wasn’t part of the tale.) Through Mom’s remembranc-
es, I recalled the anecdote—part of our family lore, told teasingly when I was a
child. It embarrassed me then; it still does a bit. A prayer for this week:
Lord Jesus, lay your hand upon my eyes so that I may see the world with the
Confronting this story again, in my sixth decade, I recognize in myself a per- clarity of a child, see its shining newness in every dawn, its quiet rest beneath the
sistent inner child, still afraid of falling, failing, flailing. I’ve done all of these; I velvet cloak of night. Lay your hands upon my eyes so that every face is
suspect I will again. It is a risky proposition to engage life, navigating relation- beautiful and new. Lay your hands upon my ears so that each sound is
ships in family, friends, marriage, work, community, and yes, church. Over time, a new symphony of being. Lay your hand upon my mouth so that the
painful losses also come through distance, divorce, declining health, and death.
words I speak are of love and kindness. Touch my hand so that it will fit
New challenges can give us pause, especially if they turn difficult. How easy it
is, then, to call up past moments of hurtful outcomes, large and small. Fear can trustingly in yours as I journey through this life and in the end of my tim
trigger an inclination to pull inward and promptly “sit down.” After all, isn’t it
easier, safer, that way?

But I’ve learned over time that there comes a larger risk in withdrawing. It is
only by trying each day that we are given the opportunity to nurture relation-
ships, discover new ones, and build community. Okay, we might fall, fail, or
flail. But we just might grow in experience, knowledge, and love. God bless us
and give us strength and confidence to keep moving forward, toddling toward
the kingdom of heaven. - Beth O’ Leary