A Place to Pray

A. W. Tozer, a prominent preacher and writer of the first half of the 20th century, is best known for his book entitled, "The Pursuit of God."  As the book is read, it is obvious that the title of the book speaks of the focus of his life.  At age fifteen he heard a German street preacher calling people to be saved.  Tozer went home under conviction.  Living in a crowded home with five other siblings and several boarders, there was little place to be alone.  Tozer ended up in the basement behind the furnace.  He cleaned out a spot and it became the place he gave his life to God and then the place where he met Him every day in prayer.  

A place to pray is an important ingredient for anyone serious about entering into a meaningful prayer life.  While it may be hard to have a place dedicated solely to prayer midst our contemporary style of living, Tozer's life illustrates it is possible.  Perhaps, it might be said, our place of prayer should not be too comfortable.  Comfortable, but not so comfortable that it tends to put us to sleep instead of to praying.  Whenever we read about some of the prayer warriors of the past, a specific place of prayer is something which is often seen.  It can be a hidden nook such as was used by A.W. Tozer, or a place behind the barn such as was used by a life long friend, or the bare room of John Fletcher, a saint of Methodism whose knees wore grooves in the wooden floor. 

Our mind has a way of associating places with the activities of daily life.  It may be hard to enter into prayer in the easy chair in front of the television, or the work space where the computer monitor stares at us, or some area in the lanes of family traffic.  If space is really hard to find, creating a small focal point of candles, or cross, or some icons that tell our mind that something different is about to happen can be helpful.  Where we pray can be anywhere, but that does not diminish the value of having some place that says that we are present there for one purpose and one purpose alone.  Praying.

Living by Faith

It is hard to figure why some folks seem to have so much trouble with religious people talking about the importance of living by faith.  Their expression looks something like, "Get real!"  The truth is we all live by faith.  Such is true of the religious, the atheist, the agnostic, and everyone in between and on the edges.  Whenever we enter an airplane for some cross country trip, very few of us see the pilot up front.  We may hear his voice, but it could be a recording and he is not really flying the plane.  Faith says differently.  Of course, the pilot has faith that the ground crew has done their work.    

At a different level is the faith we exercise when we put ourselves out there on some four lanes of expressway with everyone driving 70mph or more.  We have faith all those people will abide by driving laws, stay in their lanes, be watching out for us as much as we are watching out for them.  Faith permeates our society.  We trust unseen people to prepare our food in restaurants, our surgeon instead of the assistant to be at the table when we are having surgery, and our friends to be there for us when we need them.   Why should anyone look with disbelief when they encounter someone talking about believing in an unseen God?  

We all exercise faith in the unseen ones around us.  Such faith is built into the fabric of an orderly society.  It does not seem irrational to have faith in God.  Actually, it makes sense.  Everywhere I look there is evidence that coincidence and chance could not create what I see all around me.  Every single part of the created order speaks of purpose.  It is a purpose we affirm every Sunday as we pray, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Every day the purpose of the God we know by faith edges closer. 

A Friend

The night is a friend.  Some call it friend because it hides evil, but others call it friend because of the things it brings.  Silence is one of the things brought by the night.  Stillness is another.  The night invites us to put aside our hurried stuff and rest.  Even as our bodies are slowed, so are our own minds.  It becomes a time of waiting.  Some wait for the hour of sleep to come.  Others know the night as a time to reflect on the day that is past, the plans for tomorrow, the concerns of the day, and to bring them into the presence of the always waiting Lord.   

Jesus often used the night as a time for prayer.  After a night of prayer with the Father, He knew who He was to call into the intimate group known as the Twelve.  "...He (Jesus) went out to the mountains to pray; and He spent the night in prayer to God.  And when day came, He called His disciples  and chose twelve of them..." (Luke 6:12-13).  The Psalmist also was one who valued the night.  In Psalm 63:5-6 we read, "My soul is satisfied...when I think of You on my bed, and meditate on You in the watches of the night."  

I remember as a boy in Alamo finding this verse from the Psalms in my Bible one night during a time of reading the Word.  I am sure that I did not understand all that such a Word could be saying, but even then it alerted me enough to underline it.  As a trail weary disciple who is intent on continuing the journey as long as grace allows, I have come to understand that the night hours are truly friends.  The gentleness of those hours has opened the door of my heart to hear and experience the holy in my presence more times than I can count and for such a blessing, I am eternally grateful. 

A Safe Trip Home

After a long journey, it is always good to arrive home.  There is that moment of driving up to all that holds us and breathing a prayer, "Thank You, Lord, for a safe trip home"  Home is that place which is filled with things that speak to us of belonging.  It is a place of waiting even in our absence.  There are light switches in familiar places, chairs that fit our frame, a bed that outsleeps those of the road, and surroundings so well known we can walk around safely in the dark.  

Home is not just where the heart is.  Home is where we know belonging.   It is a long journey from the place of our beginning to the place of our belonging.  It begins with that moment of conception when life amounts to little more than a few cells and a soul.  There comes the coming forth from darkness into light and everything that is waiting.  Physical change is, perhaps, the most obvious way change is noted until those years when the scale of life becomes weighted more heavily on the side marked memories instead of dreams.  

What is certain, though not always affirmed, is that the journey is always about taking us home.   It is not a home defined by walls and memories, but a home which will speak to us of belonging.  The hands of our Creator will be all over the newness for which our soul has longed since it was housed midst unformed material substance.  The Home to which we are going will be a safe place.  Some say it will be filled with the light of eternal glory, but regardless, it will surely be a place where we will move about in eternal safety.  The Father will be there when we arrive and breathe our prayer, "Thank You, Lord, for a safe trip Home.

The Roar of the Beast

Whenever I travel, which I do more in this season of my life, I hear him out there roaring.  I do not hear sounds of his presence at the farm.  There are other sounds where the hay silently grows.  Most of the sounds of the farm are heard only by those who have cultivated the art of listening.  Of course, the first is the stillness of silence which is really no silence at all for it is filled with sounds of the Creation as it moves from one moment to the next.  Wings flapping, limbs falling, and squirrels scampering on the ground are just a few examples of the sounds midst the silence.   

Being one who has grown accustomed to such sounds, I can never get used to the roaring sound of what I call the Beast.  His roar comes from the throat of highways and expressways where people are always hurrying to pass from where they were to where they are going.  It is a constant roar in those places near those strips of asphalt and sometimes, as in the case of this night, I wake up to the roar outside a strange window which overlooks his domain.  As one awakened by the roar of his presence, I wonder where all the people are going.  

When I was in college, we used to sing a folk song entitled, "I Know Where I'm Going."  I wonder if those folks out there know.  I wonder sometimes if I know.  While the roar I hear comes from people with a sure destination in mind, I still wonder if they know they are hurrying toward a hole in the ground, or so another song suggests with its lyrics. I have been reminded recently of something I have known for a long time which is that we are created for the purpose of glorifying God.  Maybe not everyone agrees, but then, such denial is part of the problem.  We end up hurrying toward our own pursuits and end up without a mindfulness of who we are and why we are here.    

Living Simply

I saw a news report today about the death of Pope Francis which said that at his death he had about a hundred dollars.  Though entitled to a salary because of his position, he never took it.  He had no portfolio of assets.  He is being buried in a wooden coffin.  It seems strange for a man of such a prominent and powerful position.  When he was a young man, he took a vow of simplicity.  It was a vow by which he lived.  Power did not compromise his vow to live a simple life.   

While my Dad was never a Pope, he was a Methodist preacher.  When John Wesley, the father of Methodism, died in the 18th century, he had his books, a preaching robe, and little else.  Upon my Dad's death, his few belongings were donated and those things kept were carried out of his room in two cardboard boxes.  He, too, lived simply never spending much more above what was needed to sustain himself.   

When I think about people who live so simply and have no real desire to accumulate, I find myself embarrassed by the stuff around me and the level of affluence which enables me to have not just what I need, but things not really needed to sustain life.  As I have watched the life of a friend, I am learning more about what it means to live a generous life which is not exactly the same as giving everything away, but it does remind me that what I have is not to be held so tightly it cannot be shared with someone in need.  Jesus through the Word has recently reminded me that God cannot be loved when our hands are closed over what He has given us.  It is something clear enough for all us.  It is a Word that takes no account of how much or how little we possess.  Each of us knows what Jesus said and each of us has to find a response that speaks of obedience in our own life.

A Dangerous Way

The Saturday after the crucifixion of Jesus found the women who cared for Jesus in a strange new land between what they were supposed to do and what they wanted to do.  It was a day of living according to the dictates of religion even though they wanted to live according to the dictates of their heart.  The last verse of Luke 23 and the first verse of Luke 24 describe this strange juxtaposition.  "On the Sabbath (the day after Jesus died on the cross) they rested according to the commandments. But, on the first day of the week (Sunday), at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared."   

Religion can be a demanding lover.  No church comes without it. While we may say something about our church being all about Jesus, it sometimes gets in the way of serving and expressing love for Jesus.  Anyone who fails to understand need only ask the young woman who grew up in a church, was married in it and then when divorced ended up being shunned by it.  Or, ask someone who got so involved in running the church that their marriage was lost.  Or, maybe ask someone who succumbed to letting the church leaders do their thinking.  Too many people have left the relationship offered by religion because it was causing them to lose their relationship with Jesus.  

When Jesus said, "No one can serve two masters..." (Matthew 6:24), He was talking about God and wealth, but the truth He was speaking could well apply to the conflict between serving religion and serving Jesus.  This land between ought and want is often entered unawares.  We enter it when the church speaks a message prefaced by "should, must, and ought."  We enter it when we are asked to leave our brain at home and let someone else tell us how to think.  We enter it when religious ritual trumps human need.  The church really is all about Jesus, but religion would lead us down a road marked "Jesus plus something else.  The Apostle Paul warned the church about a "Jesus plus theology" in his letter to the Galatians. It is still a dangerous way to go.

The Speaking Stone

The stone did cry out.

    He told them it could

       but no one believed.

         As dead men stay dead,

           so do stones stay quiet,

or so they all said.

A Voice spoke a Word,

    an echo it was

      of the Word spoken

        at the beginning.

          The stones first shaped

            were put in their place

for such a morning.

Quietly waiting

    for its time to speak,

      some heard grinding

        like stone against rock,

         but the angels heard

           death's door crumbling

with "He is Risen!"

In the Fear of God

I am not sure how it came to me, but it did.  It came when I was still a boy about to become a teenager.  Seeing it again on a table beside a reading chair brought back the memory.  It was a nicely bound volume of "The Imitation of Christ" by Thomas A Kempis.  I really did not know anything about the writer back in those early years, but what he wrote kept me returning to its pages.  One word within the writing I read years and years into my ministry as a part of my preparation to serve Holy Communion.  On Saturday night before a Communion Sunday, I would go to its pages and read, "If you had the purity of an angel and the holiness of St. John the Baptist, you would not be worthy to receive or to touch this holy Sacrament.  No human being has merited to be able to consecrate and touch the Sacrament of Christ."    

It was a word which always put things in perspective.  It said something important about being the one who served the holy meal and it also reminded me that doing so was something to be done reverently and in the fear of God.  In other words, it was not something to approach casually.  It grieves me deeply when it seems that the Holy Meal is offered in a way that feels like an after thought, or an obligation.  I have had moments of wanting to leave when the ritual was read so fast that no one had time to really ponder the words.  When a congregation does not want to take the time to enter into unhurried moments of sharing the meal, it surely is more the fault of the priest or the preacher or the spiritual leader who takes too lightly a holy responsibility.   

Sometimes worship which includes the sharing of the Sacrament cannot be boxed in a one hour time frame.  Sometimes it is going to spill over and when it does no one should shake their watch in the air.  Communion is about the Son of God dying for our sake.  It is about Jesus giving up blood and air to deliver us from our sins.  It is a moment which is entitled to all the reverence we can give to it.  It should never be about seeing how fast we can get through with it so folks can get home.

A Memorable Easter

Until this Easter weekend I had never attended an Easter Vigil in the Roman Catholic Church.  Saturday night that changed as I worshiped in a service that was over three hours long.  Despite its length, there were many similarities: an outdoor bonfire, the Paschal Candle bringing light into a dark sanctuary, Scripture readings, baptisms, a large enthusiastic crowd, inspiring music, and, of course, a clear lifting up of the resurrected Jesus Christ.  The most notable difference was the offering of the sacrificial meal as a part of the worship.   

The one thing which impressed me in a special way was the sacrament of baptism.  While it is true that the Methodist tradition speaks of Easter being a time for baptisms, concerns for time often push a moment to Palm Sunday, or the Sunday after Easter.  The baptismal moments in this Easter Vigil were not incidental and hurried, but took a significant amount of time as candidates took vows and were led to a baptismal pool where they knelt to receive baptism by pouring.  After baptism they each were given a white robe to wear the remainder of the service.  To witness the professions of faith and to see their baptisms through a different lens reminded me that baptism really is a big deal.  

Of course, I knew this, but by the time the benediction was pronounced, it was clear that what was taking place in the holy waters was extremely important to the person being baptized as well as to the whole congregation.  I am sure in the Roman Catholic tradition as well as in the Protestant tradition baptism can be turned into some act of religious passage, or something done for social status, but on this night what was underscored in my spirit was the way baptism truly is a unique spiritual experience which marks the beginning of a new life in Christ Jesus.  When the choir sang its hallelujahs at the postlude, I was ready to add my voice to theirs.

Easter Worship

Easter comes to us every year. As the years mount up, we find ourselves paying more attention to the details.  It would seem that as many times as we have heard the story and celebrated its message, it would be like reading a book for the tenth time.  The truth is that the worship is soul stirring no matter how many times we have heard the story.  I remember some old timers who were the caretakers of the family stories.  When we gathered we knew they were going to tell the stories again and we eagerly awaited the moment when the story was told and everyone remembered, laughed, and celebrated as if it was the first time the story had ever been told.    

What caused the response was the knowledge that it was our story.  It was the story of our family.  It was the story to which we belonged.  Somehow the story created a precious bond of unity and family.  So it is with the story of Resurrection Sunday.  We know when we leave Good Friday how the story is going to end and we cannot wait to hear it, to let it wash over us again, and to claim once more that it is our story.  We celebrate it because of what God has done for us and because we know it is the story of our family.  We belong to it and it belongs to us.  It enables us to know who we are.  It lets us know to Whom we belong.  It is a story that is full of life and one that gives us confidence born out of hope and faith that we are eternally a part of the family of God.   

Perhaps, part of the reason we pay more attention is because of what we bring to the moment of hearing the old story again.  As we are blessed with passing years, we know more and more people who have completed the journey Home.  Our awareness of God's grace and mercy grows with the passing of each day.  As I heard the resurrection message read and was overwhelmed by the glorious music of Handel filling the worship space, something stirred deep within it that could be understood to be Spirit telling me again that I, too, am a child of God and will one day know the joy of being Home with the Creator who breathed life into me.

Easter Morn

Gabriel done gone and blown his horn,

   Gabriel done gone and blown his horn,

        Gabriel done gone and blown his horn,

'Tis a blessed Easter morn.

The angels in heaven done gone to singin',

   The angels in heaven done gone to singin',

      The angels in heaven done gone to singin',

'Tis a blessed Easter morn.

The church on earth done gone to shoutin',

    The church on earth done gone to shoutin',

         The church on earth done gone to shoutin',

'Tis a blessed Easter morn.

Jesus done gone and kicked out the dyin',

    Jesus done gone and kicked out the dyin',   

        Jesus done gone and kicked out the dyin',

'Tis a blessed, most glorious, Easter morn.   

Seeing the Cross

If the cross on which Jesus died was through some mysterious act still standing outside of Jerusalem as it was back then when the dying body of Jesus hung on it, what one of us could stand before it?  If we could touch the rough splintered wood, or hold in our hands the bloody nails pulled from His hands and feet who among us would not fall down in a sea of sorrow and pouring tears?  If our ears could hear Him saying, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,"  how could we not be overcome with such repentance that we would forever be rooted to that spot?  If the dried blood on the cross suddenly became fresh and wet to touch, what one of us would not go screaming into the rest of our life?   

If such a moment were ours, how could we go back to the normal living we do?    It is only because we have figured out ways to keep the cross in the story of the gospel, or shrouded in the past, or out of sight and out of mind that we are able to live as if it never happened.  We have learned how to see it through the eyes of a disinterested spectator, or a entertainment seeking spectator which allows us to go home without really seeing.  

Some months ago I went to the theater and saw Macbeth, my first Shakespeare play.  In one very intense moment an actor stood on the front edge of center stage mesmerizing us all with his words.  Suddenly, he slashed the bloody dagger he held in his hand down toward those seated in the front row only to have a woman nearly leap from her seat.   It was a moment when she was no longer a spectator.  She was so taken in by what she was experiencing that she was there and had a moment she would never forget.  May it be so for us this Holy Friday as we see the cross on which the Savior died.

Lifestyle or Concept

It is on Thursday of Holy Week, the day before the cross, that the heart of Jesus is laid bare for all to see.  This may sound strange to some who have watched Him and walked with Him from the Jordan's baptismal water for all along that way it was evident that His heart was spilling over with love and compassion for everyone He met on the road.  Thursday, however, is still a different day.  How would we live if we knew as He knew that life would be taken from Him within twenty four hours by antagonists who were intent on making His last breathing moments as painful and humiliating as possible?   

Most of us would be holding our head in our hands crying out, "Poor me, it is not right!"  Jesus, on the other hand, shows us a man who is unlike any other man who ever lived.  He took water and a cloth and washed the dirty feet of the disciples.  He broke bread and poured out wine, teaching as He did that the meal He served was a sacramental meal of grace and sacrifice.  Remember, too, He washed the feet of Judas and offered Him the holy meal even though He knew what lurked in the heart of this disciple.  He knew, too, on this night night that Peter would deny Him and that the others would disappear.  Yet, still His first thoughts were not for Himself, but for them.  

There were many memorable words said that night by Jesus, but, perhaps, the most daunting of them all was when He said that as He had washed feet so should they and all of us.  Of course, there is more here than some words which would set us out looking for dirty feet.  Instead, they are words which were spoken to set out to be servants of all.  We are not to love only those who love us, those who appeal to our eye, who attract us, or who would bring benefit to us.  We are to love and serve all.   The dirty ones who are an offense to eye and nose and the ones who have deeply hurt us by actions or words are not those to disdain, but brothers and sisters to love and serve.  So Jesus did and so are we to do if faithfulness to Him is something more than just a symbolic religious concept.

Seasons Come and Go

One of the things learned and appreciated in the years of retirement is the awareness of changing seasons.  What I have discovered is that there are more than the four seasons reflected by the turning of calendar pages.  What has also grown within me is the way God brings us into different seasons of our life.  I once thought life could not be lived without preaching, but these year have become a surprising season of writing.  It has been a season empty of church work and filled with farm work.  It has been a season of care giving, a season of grief, and a season of new beginnings.  It has been a season of understanding and experiencing God in new and different ways.    

It is that way with all of us.  Life changes and brings us into times in our life with which we can fight, or times which we can embrace.  The thing which always need to be remembered is that God is the One who brings us into different seasons of our life.  Some may be as difficult as a bitterly cold and windy winter day.  We may wish we could forget them and, then again, there are seasons full of life and hope and joy that we would choose to last forever.  The point is that regardless of the circumstances of our life, God is with us.  God has not pushed us out there on the road and stepped back to see how it goes for us, but He walks the road with us and has, in fact, prepared the way that is ahead.  

There are surely times when we may feel as deserted by the Father God as Jesus might have have felt on the cross, but the truth is that such moments do not exist.  Whether the season is easy or hard, God is with us.  It is one of the central truths of the gospel message.  God is with us.  We are never really alone.  He is with us.  Even though we go through the season known as "valley of the shadow of death..." (Psalm 23), God is with us.  In a few days we will gather at the empty tomb and shout this truth with all the people of God.  I cannot wait!

The Sanctified Life

When Jesus went to sleep on Tuesday night, His days were few enough to count on one hand.  As we read the gospels, there is a growing awareness on our part that Jesus not only steadfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem, but He knew why He was going.  He knew the will of the Father and He was in step with it.  He did not count the breath of this life too great a thing to keep if obedience demanded another way.  His life was the Father's life.  His will was the Father's will.  There was no difference between the two.  It is to such a life that the Holy Spirit seeks to take us through the spiritual work we have come to call sanctification.  

There are some who speak of sanctification as work come and done.  It is an experience that sets the believer on a spiritual pedestal for the rest of life.  The proof of sanctification is found in some spiritual experience such as speaking in tongues, or being gifted with some unusual spiritual gift.  While sanctification may have a beginning point, it has no ending point.  It is a work of grace which begins in our heart by the Holy Spirit and is only regarded as completed when we reach our heavenly Home. Between beginning and end, life is not about marking notches on the cover of our Bible as we experience some spiritual high, but about a work which the Spirit does in our life which brings our heart in step with the heart of God.  

Through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, we move closer and closer to living with a spirit that does not count breath as to great a price to pay in order to live in obedience to the Father's will. When we gather with the community of believers on Sunday and pray "Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven," we are praying that the it will be on earth as it is in heaven, but we are also praying that Spirit's sanctifying work begun in us will move toward completion.  There is peace walking in sync with our Creator God.  There is purpose in stepping where He has stepped and where He is leading us.  As it was that week long ago, so it is today.   Not everyone wants to walk all the way to the cross.  Even today we are tempted to find a way in which our will can be supreme instead of His.    

The Betrayer

In the shadows of Holy Week, evil lurked.  It lucked in the hearts of the chief priests and elders.  It lurked in the heart of the religious establishment.  At times the evil threat stepped from the shadows to confront Jesus, but always it ran back into the place where it could do its work without being seen.  (Matthew 26:3-5).  When darkness fell each day across the city of Jerusalem, these keepers of the religious status quo were meeting, planning, and looking for some way to do away with the young rabbi who was turning everything upside down.   

They were no doubt men well acquainted with prayer.  Perhaps, it could be said that their prayers had nothing to do with the will of God in those days, but they would have seen it differently.  Though it was far from the truth, they must have perceived that God was surely on their side.  Into their world of protecting the status quo and their position of power within it, Judas Iscariot walked.  (Matthew 26:14). He was the answer to their prayers to the god of the status quo.  Some might say Judas was an evil man.  Some might say he was lost to the power of evil in order to do such a thing.  Such people are those who have never looked in the mirror which reveals the inner workings of their own heart.  

Judas was no different than those of us who hold our self righteous robes close around us lest someone think we are a kinsman to Judas.  Of course, we are.  We are his kinsman.  What one of us has not done something to betray the Christ?  What one of us has not looked after our own interest more than the concerns of the Kingdom of God?  What one of us lives without the stain of sin in our heart?  If there is one, let that person cast the first stone at Judas Iscariot while the rest of us bend our knees and weep tears of sorrow at our own betrayal of the Holy One called the Christ, the Son of God.

The Blood of the Cross

A week unlike any other week on the Christian calendar has come.  The very name by which it is called speaks of it being a unique  moment in the life of the church.  Holy Week.  Holy Week is the time which the church remembers the final days of Jesus.  It is a time when the church encounters the suffering servant who fleshed out what it meant to be the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  It is a moment which draws forth memories of the night of deliverance in Egypt when the Hebrews were instructed to mark their doors with the blood of a slain lamb.  It was that blood which meant that the first born of that household would be spared a terrible night of death.    

It is hard for the practical and logical minded folks of this generation too comprehend how the shed blood of Christ on the cross could be an act of deliverance and salvation for each one of us.  Sin is such an uncomfortable word.  It is a word which even the church finds to be uncomfortable.  No one wants to talk about it.  No one wants to acknowledge that the image of God in which we were born has become so layered with the wrong choices of sin that we have lost sight of the fact that we were conceived and born to reflect that holy image from the deepest part of our being.  Our sin has served to disconnect us from our Creator.  It is not His choice, but ours.  

In some mysterious and divine way the blood of Christ is like a cleansing ointment that wipes away our sin and enables us to see once again that we belong not to our wrong choices, or our sin, but to God our Creator.  Through Christ something is done that we cannot do for ourselves.  The task is too great.  The stain is too deep.  Without the blood of Christ touching our lives, it is impossible for us to know to Whom we really belong.  The peace we see in our inner being will never be found in the pursuit of success, or the accumulation of stuff, but only as our inner being is touched with this holy blood shed on the cross.  The cross is our way home.  It is the door to knowing once again that we are forgiven and seen not as someone who has made wrong choices, but as someone who is called son and daughter, child of the Creator.

The Up Ahead

 Between there and here,

   somewhere I got lost.

     Not sure where I am, 

       nothing looks the same,

         no sign post showing

on this unknown road.

 

It must be the road

   You gave me to walk,

     at least, I think so.

       Not so sure right now,

         all I know is lost,

the way I know not.

 

I know You are there,

   but You walk so fast

     You don't look back

       Or, You would miss me

         And come to find me.

You would, wouldn't You?

 

Though not seeing I walk,

  knowing You must be

    just ahead waiting

      for Me to arrive

        where I am to be,

the unseen then seen. 

Home Again

Today marks the day the church remembers as the day of Jesus' final entry into Jerusalem.  It was not His first time in the city, but it would be His last.  It would be the one most remembered as the days and weeks turned into years and centuries.  On this Sunday the church remembers the triumphal entry of Jesus into the city of Jerusalem.  It was a day when a king's crown could have put on His head.  For Jesus this particular issue was settled long before that day in the wilderness when Satan offered the kingdoms of this world in exchange for His allegiance.  He would have no part of the offer then and neither did He covet the crown on this Sunday when the crowds would have made Him King.   

Before the week was done, Jesus would wear a crown, but it would not be a golden jeweled crown which sat comfortably on His head.  Instead, it would be a crown made of thorns.  It did not sit gently on His head, but was pushed down causing pain to course through His body and blood to run from His wounded head.  As the crown of thorns was pushed down violently on His head, He was verbally mocked and abused by tormentors who took pleasure in humiliating Him.   It can be said without exaggeration that the legion of angels which Satan declared to be at Jesus' disposal on the day He was tempted in the wilderness after His baptism would have come to His aid had He called for them.  

But, He chose a different way.  He was a King, but not a king like any the world had ever seen.  The Holy One born vulnerable as an infant child would die as a suffering servant.  It is both mockery and travesty if we forget where this week ends.  It ends on a cross where the Holy One suffers and then dies in our behalf.  His death was an act of service for us.  It was a divine and mysterious, impossible to explain act, which made it possible for us to know oneness with the Creator who brought us into being.  Our wandering away from home to become a slave to the power of sin did not deter Him from paying the price necessary to bring us home again. 

The Unfolding Future

The future is always unfolding before us.  It can be predicted that it will unfold with a certain amount of surprise and unpredictability.  There will be times when we will wish that we could push the future further into the future and there will be times when we will gladly welcome its coming.  Like the river which flows from mountain spring to vast ocean, there is nothing we can do to stop its movement from what can be seen to what cannot be seen.  The beginning of our future we can see in our past.  The end of our future cannot be seen as it moves into eternity.    

To pause midst a field of gravestones in our hurried journey from where we have been to where we are going can often help put in perspective our past, our present, and our future.  In such a pause we are put in position of knowing the fragile nature of our life.  We see the sum of our living in two dates separated by a dash.  There is no mention of what we have accumulated.  There is no listing of degrees and accomplishments.  We are reminded that we leave the world with what we brought into it.  It is also a place for listening to the wind of the Spirit as it stirs our soul telling us that while the physical has been returned to the earth, the spirit roams freely in the heavenly place.  

Even as it was said of Jesus on that Resurrection morning, "He is not here, He is risen!" so do we know to be true of those we have turned loose for the moment of being taken hold by our Savior, Jesus the Risen One.  The pause midst the gravestones is not just a sign of what is finite, but a call to look with faith into the unfolding future which has within it the unseen reality of our eternal home.  We may stand there cherishing memories of the past, but to stay a moment is to discover the ways the Spirit gives us glimpses of what is for those we remember and what is still to come for those of us who wait for the unfolding future.

The Glory of God

We are meant to live our lives in such a way as to bring glory to God.  This is not just something which takes place on Sunday morning, or when we stand midst the religious icons and holy incense.  It is not something meant for certain times or specific places.  In Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, he wrote, "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God."  (I Corinthians 10:31). While we understand the culture considerations which are being discussed in this text, it is also a Word which transcends culture and tradition in its reminder that no matter how basic an act, it should be done for the glory of God.  

The truth is we want to separate the ordinary from the extraordinary.  We want to create a wide division between what is regarded as sacred and what is regarded as profane.  We want to give certain spiritual practices a greater value than some of the things we do daily to sustain life.  What the Apostle Paul is declaring to the early church is that everything we do is a means by which we can glorify God.  If the very basic act of eating and drinking can be done to glorify God, then any and everything is a means of doing it as well.  

In "The Pursuit of God" A.W. Tozer wrote, "It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular, it is why he does it.  The motive is everything."  If we give our life to God, if we "...present (our) bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God..." (Romans 12:1), then our life becomes a sanctified life set apart totally for the use of God and, therefore, whatever we do, regardless of how menial or profane it might be seen, is a means of bringing glory to God.  For the believer living to bring glory to God is not something done only on Sunday in the sanctuary, but everywhere God gives us breath to live and energy to move.  As surely as the heavens brings glory to God by being the heavens, so are we called to bring glory to Him by being His creation.

Nice to Know

There are times when I am truly amazed at the freshness of the Word.  At this point in my life, being surprised is not something which should surprise me.  It has happened enough that the surprise dimension of the Word should be a normal expectation.  I have often given witness to a time after retirement when the Lord spoke to me while I was on my knees pulling weeds in the garden.  Deep from within me came two words which I heard then and have since that day believed to be the voice of the Lord speaking to me.  "Pay Attention," is what He told me.    

It was a moment which made such an impression on me that it has become my post retirement spiritual mantra.  I have a gift mug on my desk with those words printed on its side in big bold black letters.  I know that the word, "mantra" comes from Hinduism and Buddhism, but it is a word which works for me to speak of a personal embracing of what I have come to know as a powerful spiritual word which is never far from my conscious thoughts.  So, what has all this to do with being surprised by the Word of God.  Today after all these years, I saw external validation of the Word received in the garden years ago.  Interestingly enough it was a Word spoken by Jesus after He told the parable of the sower.  It might also be regarded as a parable from a garden.  This Word which I call external validation of that Word I heard in my garden comes from Mark 4:24 where it says, "And He (Jesus) said to them, 'Pay attention to what you hear..."   

It reminds me of a scene in "Fiddler on the Roof" where Tevye ask Golde, his wife, if she loves him.  Until that moment it is not something they have discussed, but in this scene they acknowledge that they love one another and sing together, "It doesn't change a thing, but even so after twenty five years, it is nice to know."  What I read today in the gospel of Mark does not change a thing about how I feel about the Word spoken in the garden, but it is nice to see it in print in words attributed to Jesus.

A Nightime Prayer

"Holy God.  Loving Father.  Thank You for all You have done....for all You are doing.  The grace You give is more than I can comprehend.  It is ever present.  Even when You must feel forgotten, You still look upon me with favor.  Lord God, I know not enough words of gratitude.  I am humbled by how lavish Your care is for me and how there is truly no end to Your mercy.  Without it I would have been undone a long time ago.    

Thank you, too, for awakening me to pray this night.  You have entrusted to me caring and praying for so many people.  More than I can number.  Their names often seem like the stars in the heaven.  They are like me.  Vulnerable.  Fragile.  Often not sure about what is ahead.  I pray for them.  For a dear one one whose life is disrupted by the uncertainty of illness, I pray.  For a life long friend who is entrusted with care giving, I pray.  I pray for wanderers who are struggling to find their way home to You.  For those who are caught up in the darkness of grief, I pray.  Lord, have mercy on the ones who have heard unsettling news today...whose hearts are troubled. Keep in a safe place those for whom I pray as friends entrusted to me by You.  For a loved one whose body is broken by an injury, I pray in these moments.  I pray, too, for a man whose wife is separated from him by the red tape of government.  Lord, have mercy.

Father God, there are so many.  I am grateful You know the ones who abide in my heart whom I hold up to You.  You know because You have placed them there.  I know I am here now because of the prayers of so many who have been faithful to pray for me.  I thank You for them...those who pray from the heavenly place and those who still wait here on earth.  May we all know what it is to be held in Your hands, Holy Father.  May we all know what it is to be wrapped up in the arms of Your love.  For these moments in the stillness of the night, I am grateful.  Amen."

Soaking

Oswald Chambers who is best known to us as the writer of the devotional classic, "My Utmost for His Highest,"  was the administrator and teacher of the Bible Training College in London.  During its four year existence before WWI, it was a spiritual training ground for over 120 students who studied and went into the mission field.  In his writings Chambers often spoke of the College as a place for "soaking."  Under the care and leadership of Oswald Chambers, the students found themselves in a college which not only provided instruction, but also a spiritual soaking where they could be equipped by the Holy Spirit for His work through them.   

"Soaking" is such a wonderful image.  Soaking speaks of being immersed for an extended time.  The soaking takes place in a change agent.  Most of us need more soaking time.  In an ideal world we would go away from home to some retreat center and spent a weekend or a week under the guidance of a spiritual director, but the ideal world is not where we live.  We live in a world where a living has to be provided, children have to be reared, and schedules are too filled.  If any kind of spiritual soaking is going to take place in our lives it is likely to come out of our own initiative and from the time we set aside for spiritual devotions.   

Allowing the image of soaking to guide us might enable us to use a set aside devotional time differently.  Our normally structure times of devotion could become a time not of doing spiritual stuff, but of learning how to sit and listen to the stirrings of the Spirit.  Instead of reading chunks of Scripture, a verse or two could become a focal point for meditation for several days, or even a week.  The idea would be allowing the Word to become digested instead of just being tasted.  Our usual devotional time could become a time of seeking whatever change might come to us by being immersed in the divine change agent, the Holy Spirit. 

The Holy Place

In the church tradition of which I am a part, Holy Communion is still offered to folks who kneel at the altar with outstretched hands.  Of course, expediency has taken hold in many places as people file by the servers and have a walk by experience.  There is no question about the walk by communion being quicker, but some things are not meant to be hurried.  This morning the Sacrament was offered at the church where I worshiped.  Even though the Table ritual began at noon, I was grateful for a moment to kneel at the altar and receive the holy meal.   

When I was growing up, altars were used much more than they are today.  Back then preachers were more likely to invite people to use the altar as a place of response to God.  It was a place where people gathered to pray.  It was a place where people knelt in life changing encounters with Jesus.  It was a launching place for many who responded to God's call to ministry in the church or in some mission field.  It was a place where people knelt to receive anointing oil and prayers for their healing.  When some tragedy touched the community, people not only gathered in the church, but also around its altar.   

As the years went along, I began to see the altar of the church as a place which provided an intersection between God's grace and human need.   If I could change one thing about today's church culture, restoring the altar to an important place in the life of the church would be one of the things high on my list.  Though getting down and getting up is not as easy as it was when I was young, I still love to kneel at that holy place.  I love to see the gathered people become the kneeling people.  I am reminded as  people  kneel in a place made sacred by generations of praying people that the Spirit who has worked in the hearts of those of the past will work in the hearts of those in the present day.  I love being there when He does.

The Good Way

When we started the faith journey years ago, we carried with us our favorite verse.  If asked about it, we were quick to pull it out for a recitation.  After awhile of walking with Jesus and letting the Word soak into our spirit, we are more likely to ask "Which one?" when asked about a favorite verse.  As the years add up, we start carrying not one, but many.  One of the most recent verses which has been added to my favorite list is Jeremiah 6:16.  It says, "Thus says the Lord:  Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths where the good way lies in it, and find rest for your soul."    

Perhaps, it is a verse which has more appeal for folks like me whose hair has gone from black to gray to white.  It is certainly true that age has given me a perspective which would have been impossible to see fifty years ago.  One of the things this passage does is to create images of moments and choices which come to all of us as we navigate the roads of faith.  More and more do I find myself wanting to touch the ancient ways of faith which have stood the test of time and more and more do I want to walk that way.   It is the way of some of the Biblical giants and the more contemporary saints.  It is the way I shunned for a more modern way when young and the way I find myself now eagerly seeking.   

A memory of a time of upheaval and darkness is in my not too distant past and while I have walked beyond its shadow, I remember seeking a spiritual tradition other than my own where I could be immersed in ancient liturgical prayers and where the Holy Meal was offered at each gathering time.  These ancient ways brought healing ointment to the brokenness within me.  When we stand at the crossroads of life, it is a good thing to look for the crowd that esteems the core values of our faith and to go in the good way they have walked. 

Starting Over

Starting over is never easy, but is always necessary.  We do not always see the starting over moments as transition moments from where we where to where we are going.  If we do see, we often push back against them trying to hold to what is behind instead of letting go so we can move into the future that is unfolding.  It is also true that our fear of what is out there just beyond what we can see causes us to ignore the reality of a starting over moment pressing down upon us.  We often only see starting over moments in the big changes of our life which send it spiraling down a road not anticipated and miss them in the daily ordinary moments which may be pulling us away from the past even before we are able to see them.  

When Saul was holding the coats of the stone throwers who were killing Stephen, something was taking place in his life which he could not see and if he could have seen it, he would have fought it tooth and nail.  It was only on the road to Damascus that the starting over moment begun with the stoning of Stephen became so visible to him that he was blinded by it.  At the moment of the blinding light, Saul probably did not think of what was happening as a moment of starting over, nor did he likely connect it to the seed planted as he held the coats of murderers of Stephen.    

It should not surprise us that God works in such a way in our lives.  In the most unpredictable and surprising ways, He brings into visibility a new reality which He had been unfolding in our presence for a long time.  We simply did not want to see the new thing God was doing in our life because we were so comfortable with what He had been doing.  When we find ourselves grieving over some ending and lamenting the changes it seems to be pushing heavy upon us, it may be a moment for pausing, looking for the wind of the Spirit that is pushing us away from where we were to where we are still to go, and then, going with it.

"Me and Jesus"

Some folks talk about their Christian faith as "me and Jesus."  It is a comment which is usually followed with a declaration of independence from the church.  The "Me and Jesus" folks have no need for those Sunday hypocrites who get together in churches.  The "Me and Jesus" people are those who prefer the river, or the golf course, or any place other than the church building.  These folks need no one but Jesus.  "Me and Jesus" makes for a very small community.  

While the "Me and Jesus" person may be espousing what is thought of as a very personal faith, it is actually a distortion of the Christian way.  It is a way Jesus never intended.  He did not call one disciple, or two, but twelve.  He invited each one to live with Him and the rest of the group as a community bound by their devotion to Him.  Each one of those twelve made a commitment to Jesus and to the others when they started the journey.  It was not a perfect group.  They lived with egos that got in the way of community living.  They argued over who was the greatest and who should get seats of honor.  They were at times guilty of saying one thing and living another.  In many ways they modeled a prototype of the church before it was called into being.  Certainly, they looked a lot like those Sunday hypocrites who get together in churches.  

Surely, Jesus called the community of the twelve into being as a way of teaching that disciples do not live alone.  The "Me and Jesus" model simply does not work.  It does not fit the mold laid out by Jesus for His followers to embrace.  We need one another.  We need a community for fellowship, worship, and service.  "Me and Jesus" see no feet to wash.  They cannot hear the sounds of worship or the celebrations of life.  They are claiming the cross as God's gift to them and them alone when it is His gift to the whole world.

A Hard Discipline

One of the Lenten disciplines is self-examination.  It is a spiritual discipline which requires a different kind of effort than reading the Scripture or praying.  Both of these have a degree of specificity about them that is both visible and measurable.  It could be said that such disciplines are external while the discipline of self-examination is definitely a work with the internal and invisible part of us.  It is also a more subjective spiritual discipline than some.    

What might make it an easy thing would be to think that self-examination requires no more than measuring the external dimensions of our spiritual life.  For example, does spiritual discipline point us toward measuring how many chapters of Scripture we are reading this year as compared to a year ago, or is it about looking at the calendar and counting up the number of Sundays we are worshiping compared to the last Lenten season?  This may be valid concerns, but the to enter into self-examination certainly requires walking in deeper water.  To this day the preachers after the discipline of John Wesley are asked at ordination, "Are you going on toward perfection?  A similar kind of question might be framed with the question, "Am I still confessing the same sins that I have always confessed?  Others might be, "How am I experiencing God differently now?" or "How is that I am hearing God speak to me and what I am doing about what I am hearing?   

There are no prescribed questions which fit each one of us, but each one of us knows where it is that our heart still has too many rough edges.  We also know where it is that we find ourselves confessing, "I know what to do.  I know the right thing, but I am just not ready to do it yet.  Why is this true?  Self examination is a hard one.  It may even require the help of some trusted friend who can listen and speak truth to us.  It is always true that these spiritual disciplines which cause us to do serious heart work are the toughest and many would rather find an easier way.

Journey of the Heart

In the mid years of my ministry while I was serving the Vidalia Church, I preached a six month series on the letter Paul wrote to the Romans.  It provided me meaningful preaching text for the year, but it also forced me to do a more intense study of a section of Scripture.  It could be said that I did it for the church, but I also did it for me.  I kept those sermons for a long time.  Somewhere in the move into retirement, the sermons got lost.    

I wish I still had them.  It would be interesting to read something I did over twenty years ago to see if I would say it differently.  I have a feeling the years might cause me to say or express things differently.  From the very beginning of my preaching ministry, I would stick a copy of a preached sermon in a file.  I remember somewhere along the way looking back at those first few years of preaching and being amazed that I preached what was on the paper and that anyone stayed to listen.  One thing learned, and there have been many things learned along the way of being a disciple of Jesus, is that things change.  The Word surely stays the same, but every time we come to it, we come to it looking through a lens never before used.  Our changing view of the world and our experience does not change what the Word says, but it can cause us to read it differently.  

The longer we live and study the Word, the more we see the grace of God between the lines.  We see more kindness.  We tend to be more generous in our own giving of grace and less judgmental.  In some ways the the life lived in these retirement years has brought along with it an awareness of how much God's grace has blessed me and how I need to be more grace giving of others.  This journey with Christ is always a journey.  Sometimes it takes us to different geographical places and other times it is a journey of the heart.

Trust Not Your Gut

Advice often given in these days is "Trust your gut."  May I suggest it is not good advice.  The "gut" can be trusted to tell you if you are hungry, or if you have eaten too much.  It can tell you if you have eaten some bad food.  It usually speaks to us with a rumbling sound, or as in the case of eating bad food, a voice that is far worse.  Trust your gut on matters pertaining to the digestion process, but when it comes to making choices that require intuitive awareness, trust your spirit.  

As the gut is the voice for digestive matters, so is the spirit the voice to be sought when we need to know what is in keeping with the core values which were instilled within us when God put His hand upon us at conception.  We were not created without thought.  We were not pushed from the womb of our mother to live carelessly, without regard for right and wrong, and unconcerned about caring for those around us.  We can trust the spirit within us to push us toward those core values that reflect living that is both responsible and grateful.  To live according to the purpose for which we were created not only speaks of responsible living, but it is also an expression of abiding gratitude to the Creator God for bringing us into being.   

The Word of God reminds us that our life is best lived when we live according to our purpose.  It is best lived when we allow God's Spirit an abiding place within us.  To provide space in our life for God is not just some religious or spiritual duty, but it is the only way we can truly live as we were intended to live.  We are not created to live separate from the Creator, but to always live mindful of our connection and our dependence upon Him.  To embrace the spiritual life is to embrace this reality which directs us to the essence of who we are.  We can trust our spirit to be the source of guidance for our life for it is where the Holy Spirit desires to abide in our life and from that place within us, He is always going to direct us according to the Creator's purpose for us.

A Song for Every Day

"This is the day that the Lord has made" is a song often sung in worship and when it its refrain is lifted, we are likely to see people swaying just a bit and singing with a little more gusto.  Of course, it is a song which comes straight from the book of Psalms.  Psalms 118:24 records it.  "This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."  It is interesting that David spoke its words into existence centuries ago.  It is also interesting that some of our contemporary music fans who disdain singing hundred year old hymns take such pleasure in a song which is truly ancient.   

Do you suppose that David sang the song in every day of his life?  Was he singing it when he was hiding in a cave from Saul?  Did he sing it when his son, Absalom, died?  Did he sing it when Nathan came as the voice of Lord to confront him with his sin?  Did he sing it when he was betrayed by those he thought loyal?  Did he sing it when he saw the slaughter of war?  Did he sing it when his heart was broken?   While we can never really know, it is something to think about as we read the story of David.   

It is also something to think about as we review our own life.  Is is a song which sounds forth from our heart when all the props are knocked out from under us?  Is is a song we sing when we let go of those we love?  Is it a song we sing when there is not a ray of sunshine, but only some dark storm which seems greater than our ability to stand in the midst of it?  If we are honest with ourselves, we may confess that we sing it selectively; yet, it still remains true that every day is a gift from God.  Every day comes to us after passing through the hands of God.  Actually, it is not just a song for the good days, but for every day.