Photo Ops
"It's a wonderful day in the neighborhood..." - not! House Speaker Boehner is embarking on a frivolous lawsuit against the President and the President is in Austin and his response to the border crisis is he does not do "photo ops". But he does do a photo op in Dallas playing billiards, another with a young girl at a restaurant in Austin, and at Franklin's Bar-B-Q. He also does a $36,000 per plate fundraiser while in town. There is more than enough blame to pass around in Washington. Everyone has their tried, true, and now very old responses of why nothing is being done. But while everyone in government is doing nothing and blaming the other party, something IS being done.
After waiting for an hour at a coffee shop because all north/south access in Austin was closed so the President could do a fund raising breakfast and two photo ops, I made my way to my destination. The destination - The Hope Center; and that was the literal name and it became the prophetic word of the day. The Hope Center is a ministry of Trinity United Methodist Church. They serve a very needy community on Thursday and Fridays. There are hot meals, bags of groceries and a number of other caring ministries taking place in their building. They will not erase the issues of poverty in their area two days a week, but they will sow seeds of hope among the lives of some very desperate people. The Hope Center obviously was birthed because caring souls refused to sit on the side lines and believe nothing can be done - they have been emboldened by faith and by the grace of Christ, they will do all they can.
It was such a stark contrast to the political sparring of the day and it reminded me once again that we do need our government but the government cannot do everything. And the one thing the government lacks on both sides of the aisle is the ability to get on the streets where it is needed most and do something - something caring and compassionate. That is why, with all of its flaws, the church is where I still place my hope. Through the grace of Christ, care can be given and transformation of lives is possible - it births hope.
On this day at the Hope Center a florist had donated bouquets of flowers. For those taking home groceries they would also leave with flowers to adorn their tables. They not only received hope they also received honor. They were worthy of flowers - their lives were beautiful.
As I watched people looking through their grocery bags while waiting for the bus, their faces brimmed with joy. Today there were fresh strawberries and bakery treats. It was a good day all around and for this moment, there was hope.
The one thing it takes for this to happen is people - lots of them - to give of their time and do something. Dozens of people were all hands on deck this day making sure the vast needs were being met. In a remote neighborhood of Austin the most important thing of the day was taking place - hope and mercy. It did not make the headlines since more distinguished guests were in town. But for millions less of taxpayer's money and through the equity of sweat and giving what they had, Trinity brought hope to their neighborhood. And I believe God looked down and said, "It was very good."
Friday, July 11, 2014
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Purposeful Piddling
In recent weeks the news of horrific violence has dominated the news. Violent civil wars raging across the globe; innocent children in Africa abducted; children driven from Central America because of drugs and violence, shootings at schools; police officers gunned down; and various storms, fires, and mudslides. It makes you think who can survive and where is there hope?
All of this was fresh on my mind when I went for a walk with my grandson Sam. I use the term "walk" loosely. Sam does not walk - he piddles, wanders, and talks. You might see or hear a firetruck or ambulance and Sam has to stop make that sound and acknowledge they are going to a fire. Sam might find a small hole in the rock wall and stop and say, "Look at that" in a high excited voice. Sam does have a purpose in every outing to get to our pond. Then he can throw rocks in the pond and the trip is complete. We are not that far from our town-home but it is time for Sam to say to me, "I carry you." That does not mean Sam is carrying me, it means I am carrying Sam home.
Where is the hope in this world? In innocent children who can piddle on purpose and who see the world as a place of discovery. Soon enough they will know the violence of the world. For now there are no fears just all the time in the world to wander. That should be enough to inspire all of us to do everything thing possible to prevent the gates of hell from spreading so all children in the world can just piddle with purpose. The secret may be for us all to take time in our day and say to someone, "I carry you." I carry you in my prayers, thoughts, and concerns. I hear, see, and feel your pain and loss.
The news does not lie, I see it and hear the suffering and pain. The walk with Sam is just as real and I see the hope and joy in life. I have to believe that the truth in my grandson will prevail even on the worst day in the news.
In recent weeks the news of horrific violence has dominated the news. Violent civil wars raging across the globe; innocent children in Africa abducted; children driven from Central America because of drugs and violence, shootings at schools; police officers gunned down; and various storms, fires, and mudslides. It makes you think who can survive and where is there hope?
All of this was fresh on my mind when I went for a walk with my grandson Sam. I use the term "walk" loosely. Sam does not walk - he piddles, wanders, and talks. You might see or hear a firetruck or ambulance and Sam has to stop make that sound and acknowledge they are going to a fire. Sam might find a small hole in the rock wall and stop and say, "Look at that" in a high excited voice. Sam does have a purpose in every outing to get to our pond. Then he can throw rocks in the pond and the trip is complete. We are not that far from our town-home but it is time for Sam to say to me, "I carry you." That does not mean Sam is carrying me, it means I am carrying Sam home.
Where is the hope in this world? In innocent children who can piddle on purpose and who see the world as a place of discovery. Soon enough they will know the violence of the world. For now there are no fears just all the time in the world to wander. That should be enough to inspire all of us to do everything thing possible to prevent the gates of hell from spreading so all children in the world can just piddle with purpose. The secret may be for us all to take time in our day and say to someone, "I carry you." I carry you in my prayers, thoughts, and concerns. I hear, see, and feel your pain and loss.
The news does not lie, I see it and hear the suffering and pain. The walk with Sam is just as real and I see the hope and joy in life. I have to believe that the truth in my grandson will prevail even on the worst day in the news.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
How Old is Dirt
It is early on a Saturday morning and I am surprised any of my senses are working. A light mist fills the air, it is warm and everything around me seems to be alive. All creation is awakening and now I simply need to follow suit.
I walk across a grassy area that is now mostly dirt from the foot traffic. It is this dirt that makes me stop and awaken. The mist has settled ever so lightly and now I can smell the dirt. It is fragrant, a distinct smell I cannot describe but it is recorded I believe in everyone's brain. We smell earth, we smell home, we sense where we have come from - the dirt. The dirt teems with life and it speaks of beginnings for us all.
This morning I would say both creationists and scientists are wrong on dating the beginnings of the earth. A date of several thousand years or several million years will not suffice. I smelled the dirt this morning and it smelled fresh, I would say not more than a few hours old. It is futile arguing a date on creation just smell the dirt and move on - God is not done creating. It's fresh, before us, all around us, simply stop and breathe it in.
I walk across a grassy area that is now mostly dirt from the foot traffic. It is this dirt that makes me stop and awaken. The mist has settled ever so lightly and now I can smell the dirt. It is fragrant, a distinct smell I cannot describe but it is recorded I believe in everyone's brain. We smell earth, we smell home, we sense where we have come from - the dirt. The dirt teems with life and it speaks of beginnings for us all.
This morning I would say both creationists and scientists are wrong on dating the beginnings of the earth. A date of several thousand years or several million years will not suffice. I smelled the dirt this morning and it smelled fresh, I would say not more than a few hours old. It is futile arguing a date on creation just smell the dirt and move on - God is not done creating. It's fresh, before us, all around us, simply stop and breathe it in.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
More Bathroom Wall Messages
I never set out blogging thinking I would post three blogs concerning bathroom graffiti but it appears to be the chalkboard of life. The latest posting at my place of work was the following: "Jesus may love me but everyone else here thinks I am an ass hole". I never moved past that for the remainder of the day.
I do not know who penned those words or their life story but it is easy to hear pain coming from his life and a sense of failure. I can sympathize with his emotions because we work in an environment that values production and profits over its people. It seems this has become corporate America.
This bathroom scrawl was a plea to be heard and the only place available was a bathroom stall. Some may interject that this person could be a hothead, someone hard to get along with, or a general malcontent. I suppose any of those are possibilities but the messenger is not completely cynical he still senses that "Jesus loves him." Yet, I would wager there are days he even doubts that.
I will never meet the bathroom wall author and his voice of complaint will never be discussed in the corporate office nor published in a letter to the editor, but I am glad he took what space he had and emoted his thoughts. I pray he senses that in some way he was heard and that his life is of worth. I continue to believe that very raw and real expressions of pain are heard by God as acceptable prayers.
I do not know who penned those words or their life story but it is easy to hear pain coming from his life and a sense of failure. I can sympathize with his emotions because we work in an environment that values production and profits over its people. It seems this has become corporate America.
This bathroom scrawl was a plea to be heard and the only place available was a bathroom stall. Some may interject that this person could be a hothead, someone hard to get along with, or a general malcontent. I suppose any of those are possibilities but the messenger is not completely cynical he still senses that "Jesus loves him." Yet, I would wager there are days he even doubts that.
I will never meet the bathroom wall author and his voice of complaint will never be discussed in the corporate office nor published in a letter to the editor, but I am glad he took what space he had and emoted his thoughts. I pray he senses that in some way he was heard and that his life is of worth. I continue to believe that very raw and real expressions of pain are heard by God as acceptable prayers.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Practicing Spiritual Disciplines for Lent
First
Sunday of Lent
March
9th, 2014
The
Spiritual Practice of Fasting – Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7/Psalm 32/Matthew
4:1-11/Romans 5:12
“It takes more than bread to stay alive. It takes a
steady stream of words from God’s mouth.”
Matthew 4:4 MSG
“If death got the upper hand through one man’s wrong
doing, can you imagine the
breathtaking recovery life makes, sovereign life, in
those who grasp with both hands this wildly extravagant
life gift, this grand setting-everything-right, that
the one man Jesus Christ provides?”
Romans
5:17 MSG
The
Lectionary texts for this first Sunday of Lent wind their way from the Garden
of Eden and the fall of mankind, onward to a confession of sin and lament by
the Psalmist, arriving at last in the desert where Jesus faces temptation
before the inauguration of his ministry.
In
Genesis we find Adam and Eve in paradise and in Matthew we find Jesus in the
desert. But no matter the location, one of luxury or lack, temptation is
present. Temptation is real and it is common to all of us. Life can be
difficult to navigate even when we consider ourselves to be in the lap of
paradise. The ancient practices of discipline are needed to keep us attuned to
the voice of the Spirit.
Having been led by the Spirit into the desert,
Jesus faced temptation and forty days of fasting. In the wilderness Jesus would
have to incarnate, “This is my Son in
whom I am well pleased.” I am grateful that those words of grace precede all of
our trials, temptations and any attempts at obedience.
During
forty days on the mountain, Moses received the Law on tablets of stone. Jesus,
during his days in the wilderness, became the Word made flesh. We have moved
from stone to flesh. Fasting is more than abstaining from food; it is a time
when we allow the Word to take on flesh in us.
Three
things speak to me in the texts: paying attention/ listening to your life,
trust, and grace. First, fasting calls us to pay attention to the activity and
revelation of God in our midst. Fasting sets the spiritual table enabling us to
listen to our own lives, to touch, taste, and sense our way into the depth of
God’s love. Fredrick Buechner declares, “Listen to your life. See it for the
fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and in the pain of it no less
than the excitement and gladness; touch, taste, smell your way to the holy
hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments and
life itself is grace.” Fasting enables us to pay attention and to hear all the
mysterious ways God is already at work in our lives.
Second,
fasting, as with all the spiritual practices, helps us to learn trust. Jesus
did not yield to his flesh in the desert. His strength and trust were in God
alone. Jesus believed the blessing the Father spoke over him at baptism. .
Katherine
Marie Dykman in her book “Inviting the Mystic” states, “Spirituality consists not
in becoming more and more responsible in the fulfillment of duty, but in
becoming more and more faithful in a love relationship…not so much a question
of running up a steep hill…as it is of letting go…falling backward in trust,
believing that we will be caught up in loving protective arms.” Fasting is not
duty, it is an opportunity to let a myriad of things go and to fall back in
trust into God’s protective arms.
Third,
grace runs through each text. Fasting is a time to give room for the experience
of grace and to be filled with that grace in the depth of our being. Fasting
and all spiritual practices find voice and meaning for me in Denise Levertov’s
poem The Avowal;
“As
swimmers dare
to
lie face to the sky
and
water bears them,
as
hawks rest upon air
and
air sustains them,
so
I would learn to attain
freefall,
and float
into
Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
knowing
no effort earns that all surrounding grace.”
Heavenly Father, in this time of fasting, give
us faith to let go of the daily things that occupy our lives allowing us to
fall into the mystery of your love more fully. May we emerge from the Lenten
season full of grace and truth.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Surrender
"Please sign here to surrender your license." Wait. Surrender? Did I hear that right? Was there a battle and I lost? Have I been abducted by the state of Texas? The words spoken to me at the DMV as we were getting our Texas license startled me. I have only had one state of residence for the past twenty six years. It is the place that I consider home. It seemed harsh to have to surrender my license. It reminded me anew of the many changes that have occurred in our lives over the past year.
We like to be from somewhere, to have a place we call our home. We do not easily embrace the term "pilgrim" - those who journey through life, and their home is God. No state or country adequately describes our place of residence because what we are really looking for is, a city whose architect and builder is God. That really is our only permanent residence.
I thought of Abraham when God called him to a new land. Abraham also must have struggled when he was told he would have to surrender his camel license in Haran. "Trade in your tents, your father's gods, and everything you have known, and follow me. I will be your new home." These are the words Abraham heard. The dinner conversation in the tent that night must have been exciting. "Well, Pop, it's been real, hanging out with you and the family, but I am surrendering it all to follow God in a new land," Abraham announces. "You are doing what? the dad asks. "The other day while at the oasis watering the live stock, I heard God call me to a new life in a new land." Abraham continues. "Just like that, after a day in the desert sun you are leaving everything you know behind?" the father asked. "That is the long and short of it, and it does seem somewhat strange, but I sense in my spirit it is right."
I am certain other things were discussed and all parties involved were still a little confused and full of many questions. It was, after all, a complete break from Abraham's childhood home and a move in the direction of the unknown. Not exactly the same situation, but I could feel Abraham's angst when I was asked to surrender my North Dakota license.
Right at their fishing boats, the disciples felt the same emotions when Jesus called them to follow him. They left their father and the nets on shore and marched into the unknown. James and John's father must have thought, "Seriously, you are leaving me with the nets and the boat, and surrendering your fishing license at one invitation?" Just like Abraham's dinner, the scene on the shoreline must have been priceless.
In truth, it is not as much where we live, but where God dwells. Psalm 84:5 declares it best: "And how blessed are all those in whom you live, whose lives become roads you travel." You and I will have to surrender our license and open ourselves up to a journey; not to a new house, state, or job, but to God traveling in and through our lives. God with us, in us, and before us. And since the whole earth is the Lord's, where ever God is leading in us, we are always at home.
We like to be from somewhere, to have a place we call our home. We do not easily embrace the term "pilgrim" - those who journey through life, and their home is God. No state or country adequately describes our place of residence because what we are really looking for is, a city whose architect and builder is God. That really is our only permanent residence.
I thought of Abraham when God called him to a new land. Abraham also must have struggled when he was told he would have to surrender his camel license in Haran. "Trade in your tents, your father's gods, and everything you have known, and follow me. I will be your new home." These are the words Abraham heard. The dinner conversation in the tent that night must have been exciting. "Well, Pop, it's been real, hanging out with you and the family, but I am surrendering it all to follow God in a new land," Abraham announces. "You are doing what? the dad asks. "The other day while at the oasis watering the live stock, I heard God call me to a new life in a new land." Abraham continues. "Just like that, after a day in the desert sun you are leaving everything you know behind?" the father asked. "That is the long and short of it, and it does seem somewhat strange, but I sense in my spirit it is right."
I am certain other things were discussed and all parties involved were still a little confused and full of many questions. It was, after all, a complete break from Abraham's childhood home and a move in the direction of the unknown. Not exactly the same situation, but I could feel Abraham's angst when I was asked to surrender my North Dakota license.
Right at their fishing boats, the disciples felt the same emotions when Jesus called them to follow him. They left their father and the nets on shore and marched into the unknown. James and John's father must have thought, "Seriously, you are leaving me with the nets and the boat, and surrendering your fishing license at one invitation?" Just like Abraham's dinner, the scene on the shoreline must have been priceless.
In truth, it is not as much where we live, but where God dwells. Psalm 84:5 declares it best: "And how blessed are all those in whom you live, whose lives become roads you travel." You and I will have to surrender our license and open ourselves up to a journey; not to a new house, state, or job, but to God traveling in and through our lives. God with us, in us, and before us. And since the whole earth is the Lord's, where ever God is leading in us, we are always at home.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
You're In This Place
This week I have had the privilege to enjoy the company of a brilliant full moon on my morning commute to work. One morning as I was considering the beauty of the moon I heard these words;
"Word of God speak
Would You pour down like rain
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty
To be still and know
That You're in this place
Please let me stay and rest
In Your holiness
Word of God speak"
My thoughts went immediately to Psalm 8 and I hear the words, "When I consider the heavens..." David, recognizing God is in this place. On this morning I recognized anew that God is in this place. And what is that place? Any place we might find ourselves. The place of lack and the place of plenty. The place of sorrow and the place of joy. The place of angst and the place of peace.
God is in this place I heard anew in my spirit. God was with me, with all of us in Austin and with all of us in our place; in our fears, in our calm, in our doubts, in our confidence, in the place we now find ourselves. God never leaves or abandon's us. A move, a change of employment, or a change of address does not move us closer or farther from God - he is in this place. God is with us, before us and after us.
This day I did not come to new revelation but what I call re-revelation. I have recognized God in my place and space many times. It is more like God's place and space. Circumstances often cloud the view of our hearts and we find ourselves in a place where we experience the absence of God. This period of absence has been called many things including "the dark hour of our soul." And as others before us, we find that even in our "dark hour of the soul" God is in this place.
It was good to receive re-revelation this morning and to be reminded that God is in this place. My place this morning was a place of being very tired but at complete peace. My prayer for me and for you is that whatever place we find ourselves that the word of God would speak and that we would know God is in this place.
"I Must Have Done Something Good"
In recent weeks I have been revisiting the story of the Puritan founders who came to America. They had many admirable qualities and risked their very lives traversing the ocean on less than adequate vessels. As an added bonus, children everywhere get to make construction paper Pilgrim's hats in school for Thanksgiving. The Puritan's also brought their dire Calvinistic faith to America. It can be best summed up by saying, "They only felt good about themselves if they felt utterly miserable." Nothing can make your mornings brighter than to get up and think I am a miserable wretch, not worthy of being saved and today I find myself in the hands of a Almighty God who may do with me as he pleases. And then you say to yourself, "Well, today may be actually good after all."
Along with this contemplation, one evening I was flipping through the TV channels and happened upon the Sound of Music. They were at the garden scene where Maria and Captain Von Trapp sing their sweet nothings to each other. I realized that the Puritan's prevail again - even in the Sound of Music. The song Maria sings is beautiful in voice but the words could not be more dire. Maria sings:
"Perhaps I had a wicked childhood, perhaps I had a miserable youth,
but somewhere in my wicked, miserable past there must have been a moment of truth.
For here you are, standing there, loving me whether or not you should
but somewhere in my youth or childhood I must have done something good.
Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could,
so somewhere in my youth or childhood I must have done something good."
Could any song be more pathetic? Great movie - bad song - yea Pilgrims! They have even influenced the German immigrants Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II. It is sad that people think they can only be loved because they did something good, once, maybe even a long time ago. It is tragic to live by the belief that nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could. That is a repudiation of everything from Genesis to Revelation. Those who believe such a tragic hopeless gospel have the right to their opinion, but when I want to watch a singing, hopeful, love opera where everyone frolics through mountain fields, yodels and gets strudel in the end, all I ask is that you don't rain on my parade.
I have two daughters and of course I think they are the most wonderful girls there ever could be. They are grown but I will always think of them as my little girls. I can honestly say that as they grew up I never thought about what they would be, what careers they would choose, if they would marry, or any of those things. Not that those things were not important, I simply knew from the first day I saw them that I would always love them. Nothing from the day of their birth could make me more happy nor more proud. I knew from that day on that what ever life would bring. I would love them. I also knew that they would accomplish great things not by anyone else's standard but again simply because I would always love them. I am not canvassing for father of the year or advocating that I have always displayed perfect love. But in my own short comings and failures (I am not a miserable wretch but I have enough sense to know that I am not perfect) the one thing I do not doubt is that God has always loved me. Nothing does come from nothing - God simply loves me. And God simply loves you, simply because you are. Enjoy the day!
Along with this contemplation, one evening I was flipping through the TV channels and happened upon the Sound of Music. They were at the garden scene where Maria and Captain Von Trapp sing their sweet nothings to each other. I realized that the Puritan's prevail again - even in the Sound of Music. The song Maria sings is beautiful in voice but the words could not be more dire. Maria sings:
"Perhaps I had a wicked childhood, perhaps I had a miserable youth,
but somewhere in my wicked, miserable past there must have been a moment of truth.
For here you are, standing there, loving me whether or not you should
but somewhere in my youth or childhood I must have done something good.
Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could,
so somewhere in my youth or childhood I must have done something good."
Could any song be more pathetic? Great movie - bad song - yea Pilgrims! They have even influenced the German immigrants Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II. It is sad that people think they can only be loved because they did something good, once, maybe even a long time ago. It is tragic to live by the belief that nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could. That is a repudiation of everything from Genesis to Revelation. Those who believe such a tragic hopeless gospel have the right to their opinion, but when I want to watch a singing, hopeful, love opera where everyone frolics through mountain fields, yodels and gets strudel in the end, all I ask is that you don't rain on my parade.
I have two daughters and of course I think they are the most wonderful girls there ever could be. They are grown but I will always think of them as my little girls. I can honestly say that as they grew up I never thought about what they would be, what careers they would choose, if they would marry, or any of those things. Not that those things were not important, I simply knew from the first day I saw them that I would always love them. Nothing from the day of their birth could make me more happy nor more proud. I knew from that day on that what ever life would bring. I would love them. I also knew that they would accomplish great things not by anyone else's standard but again simply because I would always love them. I am not canvassing for father of the year or advocating that I have always displayed perfect love. But in my own short comings and failures (I am not a miserable wretch but I have enough sense to know that I am not perfect) the one thing I do not doubt is that God has always loved me. Nothing does come from nothing - God simply loves me. And God simply loves you, simply because you are. Enjoy the day!
Saturday, January 11, 2014
The Muddled Spirit: Fingerprints
The Muddled Spirit: Fingerprints: As we are cleaning today I have found our grandson's fingerprints on our pictures, computer screen and various items in interesting plac...
Fingerprints
As we are cleaning today I have found our grandson's fingerprints on our pictures, computer screen and various items in interesting places. I am reluctant to dust and rearrange because it is proof he has not only been here but enjoyed himself thoroughly. The wooden Nativity from Christmas is still out and he has enjoyed that immensely. The Shepherd's staff is now broken but that is more realistic. Shepherds had a tough life - their staff's were probably a little worn.
I realized today, many people clean and arrange too much (I am not advocating we live in a hovel). Our homes need to look lived in and like they are places to relax, live, and share life. When did we decide to have designer homes that serve more as a museum of our tastes, not as comfortable dwelling places. We dust, decorate, and rearrange too much. It transfers over into our personal lives. We face lift, get beauty treatments, try wrinkle creams and a various assortment of other things. In advertising, they airbrush, crop and arrange so everything is beautiful and perfect.
Are we afraid of dust? Wrinkles? A bowl or dish out of place? A broken Shepherd's staff? What is it that we are really afraid of? We are afraid of chaos and we are afraid of life. Chaos is not to be feared; it is the place God hovers over most. Order and perfection does not come by our attempts to recreate Eden. Order comes because God hovers over our chaos and speaks life into our midst.
The Psalmist declares, "When my skin sags and my bones get brittle, Yahweh is rock-firm and faithful...I'm in the very presence of God - oh, how refreshing it is!" I say let's let our skin sag and the dust collect and just find out how refreshing life is in the presence of God. Go to a department store today and stand in front of the cosmetic counter and shout, "Hallelujah, my skin is sagging!" Go out afterward for coffee and a treat. If anyone asks what you are doing, simply say, "Just enjoying the day so some more dust can settle in my house." And if they ask, "Are you serious?" You reply, "Yes, It seems God does his best work with dust."
Enjoy the fingerprints, a book left out, a broken Shepherd's staff, a glass on the counter they are reminders that life happens and God declared that is good.
I realized today, many people clean and arrange too much (I am not advocating we live in a hovel). Our homes need to look lived in and like they are places to relax, live, and share life. When did we decide to have designer homes that serve more as a museum of our tastes, not as comfortable dwelling places. We dust, decorate, and rearrange too much. It transfers over into our personal lives. We face lift, get beauty treatments, try wrinkle creams and a various assortment of other things. In advertising, they airbrush, crop and arrange so everything is beautiful and perfect.
Are we afraid of dust? Wrinkles? A bowl or dish out of place? A broken Shepherd's staff? What is it that we are really afraid of? We are afraid of chaos and we are afraid of life. Chaos is not to be feared; it is the place God hovers over most. Order and perfection does not come by our attempts to recreate Eden. Order comes because God hovers over our chaos and speaks life into our midst.
The Psalmist declares, "When my skin sags and my bones get brittle, Yahweh is rock-firm and faithful...I'm in the very presence of God - oh, how refreshing it is!" I say let's let our skin sag and the dust collect and just find out how refreshing life is in the presence of God. Go to a department store today and stand in front of the cosmetic counter and shout, "Hallelujah, my skin is sagging!" Go out afterward for coffee and a treat. If anyone asks what you are doing, simply say, "Just enjoying the day so some more dust can settle in my house." And if they ask, "Are you serious?" You reply, "Yes, It seems God does his best work with dust."
Enjoy the fingerprints, a book left out, a broken Shepherd's staff, a glass on the counter they are reminders that life happens and God declared that is good.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Modern Circuit Riding Preachers
Circuit riding preachers blazed trails across America bringing good news or bad news depending on your perspective. Several months ago I published a blog titled "JHN 3:16". You can reread that if you need to refresh your memory. It seems that my first encounter with this inscription on a bathroom wall would not only be my first but also not my last. In Starbucks's on the bathroom wall was neatly written once again in the grout "JHN 3:16". It has to be from the same pen it is too coincidental. This person is giving new meaning to circuit riding preachers in the 21st Century. Who ever it is, they are dedicated to their mission and in most causes I would agree graffiti of any kind is defacing public property but as I said before, can anyone deface a public restroom?
I know what you are thinking. Is this blogger obsessed with public restroom's? Is this blogger a germaphobe? No, on the first account and yes, on the second account. But now after four months sharing public facilities with thousands of factory workers, I am just about over it. I have come to realize there is no way to share human life without contact, some good and some bad. Many who pursue some type of vocational ministry have some choice in their placement but not total latitude in the arena of ministry. The bathroom circuit rider has intentionally chosen the domain of his ministry and seems quite happy to circuit Austin spreading the gospel in bathroom grout. This is the new writing on the wall. It calls forth images in the song 'The Sounds of Silence". Relive those words and hear the God of the ages call out through unlikely prophets who write on bathroom walls.
I know what you are thinking. Is this blogger obsessed with public restroom's? Is this blogger a germaphobe? No, on the first account and yes, on the second account. But now after four months sharing public facilities with thousands of factory workers, I am just about over it. I have come to realize there is no way to share human life without contact, some good and some bad. Many who pursue some type of vocational ministry have some choice in their placement but not total latitude in the arena of ministry. The bathroom circuit rider has intentionally chosen the domain of his ministry and seems quite happy to circuit Austin spreading the gospel in bathroom grout. This is the new writing on the wall. It calls forth images in the song 'The Sounds of Silence". Relive those words and hear the God of the ages call out through unlikely prophets who write on bathroom walls.
"Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.
"Fools," said I, "You do not know –
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you.
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the walls of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls (and bathroom walls)
And whispered in the sound of silence."
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.
"Fools," said I, "You do not know –
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you.
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the walls of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls (and bathroom walls)
And whispered in the sound of silence."
God's still small voice is not silence, it is simply a chance for the voice of God to echo off the walls of our heart. It is heard in the eternity that is set within our heart. The reverberation of this interior echo is heard in a life of justice and mercy and occasional bathroom scrawls of JHN 3:16.
Perspective
Perspective is an interesting word meaning to have a specific point of view. We have perspective on many issues and situations in life but God has view. View means to have a full range of vision - simply put God sees it all.
Perspective. On the interstate the other morning four cars were lined up behind me resisting the urge to honk at such an early hour. They wanted me to speed up, cars blocked their path forward in the other two lanes. I had a different perspective in the situation and they lacked view. They could not see the highway patrol car ahead in the other lane. When they finally had their chance to pass, they broke away in the far lane and one by one as they gained perspective, they all slowed down.
Perspective. The new year will bring star gazing (ground level) to see who will be the famous and the beautiful's next main squeeze. The Kardashian saga will continue and the monthly menagerie of who wants to be George Clooney's photo op for the month will continue. It is the age of the "selfie" in more ways than one. The short sighted perspective of the here and now leads to a life long search for love and fulfillment and the end result is bankruptcy on the emotional and spiritual level. Both for those actually involved and those living vicariously through what is in reality nothing but smoke and mirrors. I have a very different perspective. I have spent the past thirty-six years with the love of my life and best friend. We will never have our hand impression in the side walk in Hollywood, jet-set around the globe (while, paradoxically, campaigning for global warming) or throw elaborate dinner parties with A-list guests. But we have and will continue to share an extraordinary journey through joys and sorrow, through times of plenty and times of want, and through times of celebrating and times of loss. The writer of Ecclesiastes calls this a "season for everything." The writer also calls the love of this life vanity if you never gain the view of God. This perspective of life is very "seasonal" it includes some of all of life that is tempered by constant community established in the marriage bond and shared through the extended family. This perspective causes one to experience the depth and fullness of life buoyed by the intense love and affection of one and only one other person. It is a view dimly, through a glass, as the Scripture declares of the intense focus of God's love. I have shared that perspective for thirty-six years and it eliminates me from "star-ground-gazing".
In an effort to gain "view" in this new year I leave you with the prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola.
"May it please the supreme and divine Goodness
to give us all abundant grace ever to know his most holy will
and to perfectly to fulfill it."
Before you go speeding around others in pursuit of happiness, this year gain some view and it may change your daily perspective on peace and happiness.
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