Psalm 118:14

Tonight during a random reading of the Word, I came across a Word which sent me back sixty years to the moment I said "Yes" to Jesus.  It was a few weeks before my high school graduation that I knelt beside my bed to pray.  Before I knelt to pray, the Holy Spirit had already put a Word in my heart through a visiting Methodist preacher.  I remember his words, "If you see a need and do nothing, you may be neglecting the call of God on your life."  It was one of those moments experienced by many us when we know it is God speaking and not just the one speaking in His behalf.  

As I knelt alone in my room, I confessed what I knew to be my sins, asked for God's forgiveness, and gave my life to Jesus.  Although I had gone to many altars and gone through the motions of repentance, this time it stuck.  When I raised myself from my knees that night, I was not the same young man who knelt to pray.  As I sat there on my bed, I opened my King James Version of the Bible and found myself reading Psalm 118:14.  "The Lord is my strength and my song, and is become my salvation."  It was the verse the Spirit gave me that night and I have carried it with me for these sixty years.  

As that verse given so long ago comes into view again, I testify that it has been true all these years and I am convinced that it will continue to be true for the rest of the journey.  God's grace has brought me thus far.  It is His strength which has always been under me.  He is the song which has always been in my heart.  He has indeed become the One who has saved me from a wasted life.  What I started learning to believe back then has become what I know beyond a shadow of a doubt to be true.  Thanks be to God for a Word given long ago and for loving me with a love that will always be more than I could ever thought possible.

Blessings

In the years since I left the pulpit, I have been blessed with space.  I have been blessed with silence.  And while life has not been like the life of a hermit, I have been blessed with solitude.  It has been said that the. house which I call home sits in the middle of a hay field.  Strangers seldom wander up the road which is little more than a two rut lane.  Most visitors who come announce themselves with the honk of a horn from the yard and do not stay so long that the tail lights of their car is a welcomed sight.  For some reason my first thoughts this morning centered on the way this place has had such shaping power in my life these past sixteen years.   

Having spent most of the forty years of my ministry career in more urban settings, I was surprised by the experience of living immersed in the Creation.  It has made me more aware of the presence of God in my daily life which seems strange to admit when most of my life has been lived within the shadow of the steeple.  Living midst the Creation encourages embracing a different rhythm.  It calls for a slower pace.  It reminds me to enter into the stillness.  It enables me to pay attention to the present moment.

As I sat on the porch the other morning, I realized that I did not need to plan quiet times; instead, I simply need to step into them and become a part of what is already present.  Is that not how it is with God?  We talk about seeking His presence through devotional moments and through worship when He is always present and a part of what is going on around us.  His presence does not need to be manufactured or even sought, but stepped into as one might step across the threshold of one room into a room which has always been a part of where life is lived. 

Praying For Rain

The western boundary of the farm is a branch that is as crooked as a slithering snake.  In my neck of the woods a branch is a term which means about the same thing as a creek, or a stream.  I call the branch on the edge of the farm "The Runoff Branch" because it depends not on a natural source of water, but upon the rain which runs off higher ground.  When it rains, it is full and flowing.  When there is no rain such as is the case in these drought stricken days, there is only dry caked dirt where water is supposed to be.  

The other day when I drove over the branch and saw it dried up, I thought of the prophet Elijah.  The story of his great battle with King Ahab and the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel began three years earlier "by the Wadi Cherith."  (I Kings 17:3).  Elijah lived by it, drank water from it, and ate the meat and bread brought to him by ravens.  Before he went there, he said to Ahab the King, "As the Lord the God of Israel lives, before whom I stand, there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my Word."  (I Kings 17:1).  Each day Elijah drank from that stream, but there came that time when "the wadi dried up, because there was no rain in the land."  (I Kings 17:7).   

The epic battle between Elijah and the prophets of Baal ended with the defeat of those prophets and Elijah bowed down with his face between his knees.  Eight times he told his servants to look toward the sea and finally they reported "a little cloud no bigger than a person's hand rising out of the sea." (I Kings 18:44).  In a short time, heavy rain fell upon that land parched from a three year drought.  In the New Testament the Apostle James wrote, "Elijah...prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain...Then he prayed again, and the heavens gave rain and the earth yielded its harvest." (James 5:17-18).  Farmers around the farm are facing a terrible drought.  Churches and communities are gathering to pray for rain.  May heavy life giving rains fall once again on dry thirsty land.

Casting Long Shadows

As I walked by the book shelf a few days ago, a biography of George Muller called attention to itself in such a way I pulled it out for another read.  It was said of Muller who lived in 19th century England that he believed and prayed.  Without asking anyone but God for funds, he opened orphanages and cared for children and the poor of Bristol.  Seeing his biography caused me to think of others such as John Wesley, Francis Asbury, Hudson Taylor, E. Stanley Jones, Oswald Chambers, Charles Spurgeon, Charles Finney, and Dwight L. Moody.   

 

It was a moment for remembering these saints who have cast long shadows over several centuries.  It was also a moment of wondering if there were any out there today who will be remembered in the centuries still to come as saints who cast long shadows.  When I tried to stretch my mind to find some of today's saints who might be remembered past their time, I had trouble coming up with a list.  Maybe it is the nature of such spiritual giants that they labor invisible to their peers and are only seen in retrospect. I would like to think such is the case.  

 

I can think of some spiritual leaders who because of media have attained celebrity status and others who often stand in the spotlight of religious speaking circuits, but I wonder how long their shadows will stretch.  It could be that my vision is limited.  Maybe I am looking in the wrong places.  Maybe I am wearing regional or denominational blinders.  If you see some spiritual giants out there among us who will surely be remembered in the distant centuries, take a moment and share their names for those of us who are having trouble seeing them.       

The Privey Hedge Won

The privey hedge won.  Before any botanical geek goes bananas, it is correct and proper to call it privet hedge and it does belong to the Ligustrum family.  Around here and as long as I have lived, folks have called it privey hedge.  Maybe it was at one time a barrier between the house and the outdoor privey.  Anything is possible.  While some folks have it as fence like manicured hedge which is a part of the landscape around their homes, it also grows wild in places like the edge of the hay field here at the farm.  

While sitting on the porch this morning, I suddenly saw the privey hedge down across the field next to the branch.  Six feet tall it was and as prolific as a preacher's words.  Over the years I have fought it with chain saw and bush hog.  I have sweated enough to fill several large buckets and used huge amount of elbow grease in my ongoing struggle to get rid of the privey hedge.  I justified all that labor by saying it was cleaning up around the branch.   I have been here sixteen years now and that hedge is as strong as it has ever been and I am past having any energy to fight it anymore.  

When I saw it this morning, I burst out laughing and spoke it aloud, "The privey hedge won!"  I am through fighting.  It is the winner.  It is still here and will be here long after I no longer walk this land.  Creation has a way of putting us in our place and life in a proper perspective.  I used to think of myself as the owner of the farm.  Now I know I am just one in a long line of caretakers.  In a very real way I have learned that the farm has taken care of me.  It has blessed me.  It has given to me.  The farm, the land, and the Creation truly speaks to me of God's care, God's blessing, and the way He has given to me all the days of my life.    

Angels at the Crossroads

It is in the letter to the Hebrews that we find that verse, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it."  (Hebrews 13:2). I remember my mother feeding and showing kindness to a homeless guy who showed up at the back door of our duplex home back around the time I was in the second grade.  Obviously, it left a lasting impression on me.  There were others who received kindness and care from her, but this one is the one always remembered.  

There was a time when I did not see angels showing up in my path.  There were other names I gave to them that kept me from seeing them as people God put in my path for a purpose.  It is not something about which to brag, but is instead something to confess and repent.  In that period of my life, deciding on the merits of their need was something I took upon myself.  It is strange how we can take upon ourselves a judgement which belongs not to us, but to God.  Somewhere along the way, the Spirit got my attention, opened my eyes to what He was doing, and began the work of prying open a heart that was determined to help only those who proved they had need.   

What this slow learner is learning is that God brings strangers into our midst not so so that we can judge them, or even to help them with some temporary solution to a problem, but because there is something about lives intersecting for the purposes of God.  When the idea that life is about chance and coincidence is thrown away, the only thing left that makes any sense is divine providence.  This slow learning disciple of Jesus is learning it is better to err on the side of generosity than the side of holding too tightly what is really not mine, but His.  These unknown folks who just show up on the road Jesus has put us are a part of God's plan just as we are as we walk with them.  They give us the opportunity to fulfill a part of God's plan in their lives even as they are used to fulfill a part of God's plan for us.

Morning Prayers

"Lord, I know there are wars taking the lives of innocent people.  Old people declare war and young people fight and die in them.  I know as the son of a soldier what it is like for a father not to come home.  Listening to the news makes my heart so heavy I cannot stay.  Lord Jesus, I know, too, about places where people have no clean water and never enough food.  People are suffering even in the places where guns are not roaring.  And, I know what You know.  I have never seen this country in which I live so divided, so contentious, and so full of angry people.  Lord, it is more than this mind can comprehend.   

There is all this big stuff touching the lives of thousands, and then there is the little stuff which my heart counts one by one.  I have been asked to pray for several friends in their battles with cancer.  They live in limbo between hope and fear.  My heart is heavy with sadness as I remember a life long friend whose wife has recently died.  My heart is heavy for him, but his heart is broken and now he must go on alone.  There are so many whose suffering has come inside the circle of my life.  There are some with addiction problems, some are actually carrying rifles in places filled with war, and others suffer chronic health issues from which there seems to be no relief.  

And, Lord, some for whom I pray do not pray, their hearts are hard, and they are pushing against the grace and love You are offering to them.  How do You pray, Lord, when the needs are as big as the world; yet, as near as next door?  Lord, so many hearts are broken.  My heart is broken.  Lord Jesus, strengthen my weak knees.  Keep me from growing weary.  Enable me to believe in what I cannot see.   May Your Kingdom come here among us as it is there in the place we call heaven.  Bless now Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Do those things which seem impossible.  Amen."  

The Journey

A Word from Scripture which can be found at the top of each blog post is, "...they confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth...they desire a better country, that is a heavenly one."  (Hebrews 11:13-16).  Some read the blog on Facebook, others subscribe to it.  Only those who actually go to the blog url (http://billjourneynotes.blogspot.com/) will see these words as the header or the title of each post.  It was an important Scripture Word in the beginning and is even more so now.  Our life of faith is truly a journey and God has blessed me as He has enabled me to write daily notes about the journey.   

It was never my intent for it to become some kind of sermon extension, but notes that reflected some of the things which were a part of the journey from there to here and from here to there.  It has always been my hope that what appeared as a post was an expression of what was being experienced in my daily walk with Jesus.  There are times when blog posts are written a week or so ahead, but most of the time what is written is influenced by what is happening in the daily spiritual journey into which I am led by the Holy Spirit.  There are times when a conversation prompts a daily reflection.  Other times it is a reading of a book, or even some Word which comes through the quiet moments shared in my devotional life.  Every moment has within it something which might show up in the words of some blog post.

We are all constantly encountering God in experiences and relationships.  It is not just every bush that is afire with God, but every moment.  These are the moments I want to share with those who give to me a few minutes of their reading time.  We are all on a journey that is taken by our desire to follow after Jesus and along the way He is constantly revealing things about Himself and ourselves.  It  is a good thing to pay attention in every moment and in every encounter lest we miss an important word He might speak to us.

Hard Moments

There are people around us we do not see.  There are people around us we do not want to see.  There are people around who we see and wish we had not seen them.  There are people around us who when seen stay on our minds, but even more on our hearts.  Most of us live most of our days without seeing the people who live beyond the reach of our radar.  We often pray for them as we do when we collect all their names together in our prayers for the sick, or the hungry, or the homeless.  We pray for them quickly and never really see them until we do.  

When we do, it can jolt our sense of well being.  I wonder what Jesus would do if He walked into a chemo treatment room filled with people whose hope was about gone.  I wonder what Jesus would do with someone whose mind was in a place other than the place where they lived.  I wonder what Jesus would do if walking on a road filled with people who were completely overcome by some of the worst stuff of life.  I wonder because whatever He would do is what we are called to do in those unbearable situations.  Into some situations Jesus brought healing, but not in all.  He cured some, but not everyone.  

As we struggle to live and care in a world filled with people we would rather not see, perhaps, it is a moment for us to pray healing prayers.  Certainly, those moments of awareness call us to pay attention to the person whose struggle is not one which can be laid down as easily as most of ours.  The letter to the Hebrews call us to remember those in prison as if we were in prison with them and to remember those being tortured as if we were being tortured with them. (Hebrews 13:3).  May we remember, too, those who live in impossible situations as if our situation was impossible as well.

A Friend's Gift

Beside the desk here at the farm stands a Paschal Candle.  It is a candle seen in churches more than in homes.  The wooden stand which holds the candle is four feet high.  The Paschal Candle itself is only two feet long, a bit short for most Paschal Candles, but this one is a used one which came from the local Methodist Church.  The Candle is first brought to full blaze on Easter Sunday to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  After Easter it has its place as it symbolizes the Risen Lord who is the Light of the World during the Sundays between Easter and Pentecost.  It is also lit for baptisms,  memorial services, Holy Communion, and other services of celebration.   

I enjoy having this candle here next to the place where I spend quiet time in His presence as well as the place where I search the pages of the Holy Word.  Often as I see it, I am reminded that we are always in the presence of the Risen Lord.  There is a story which goes with my Paschal Candle.  When I arrived at the Vidalia Church, there was no Paschal Candle so one of my members made the stand in his wood shop.  When I left some ten years later, Jack made a second one as a gift for me.  I used it in the next two churches and when I retired, it came with me.  The craftsman has gone to the heavenly place prepared for him by our Savior, but he is often remembered here in my home at the farm.   

Some people may not be image seekers or collectors of symbols of the Holy as I am, but I have found that they speak to my soul in ways that are beyond the power of words.  The remind me of that verse from Hebrews which says, "You have not come to something that can be touched, a blazing fire and darkness, and gloom as a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that not another word be spoken to them."  (Hebrews 12:18-19).  The writer of the Word writes of holy mystery.  In these years which are unfolding, I see the Paschal Candle made by the hands of a friend as a sign the holy mystery abides even here.

Loving Jesus

I am one of the fortunate ones.  I am one of the blessed ones.  I cannot remember a time when the Holy Word was not a part of my life.  About the time I got my first bicycle, a Bible was given to me.  As best I can remember it was around age six or seven.  The bicycle I rode many a mile, but is gone.  The Bible remains.  Actually, the very first one I was given is now in a special place in a drawer.  I pull it out from time to time to hold it in my hands with gratitude for a gift given long ago that still shapes my life.   

It was a black Bible with a zipper around its edges.  It was carried with me every Sunday to Sunday School.  I read the stories of the Old Testament and learned about Jesus when I was little more than a boy.  There is now a shelf in my library filled with Bibles, references, commentaries, and even a Greek New Testament with which I wrestled in seminary.  However, there is one Bible which sits on my desk just a reach away all the time.  It constantly calls me to sit with it, to read it, and to allow the Spirit of God to speak through its pages.  

Only a short time ago while reading from the last two chapters of Hebrews, I found those verses which spoke of Jesus being "the pioneer and perfecter of our faith."  (Hebrews 12:2).  Another spoke of Him as "the mediator of a new covenant," (Hebrews 12:24) and another which identified Jesus as "the great shepherd of the sheep." (Hebrews 13:20).  Finally, there was a verse remembered from those boyhood days, "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." (Hebrews 13:8).  There is so much meaning and power in these words about Jesus.  Long before we loved Him, He was loving us.  It is a good moment, is it not, to just be in His presence speaking once again of our love for Him?

Preaching

The one thing a preacher can never know about a sermon is how God will use it.  Every good preacher wants to preach under the influence of divine inspiration every Sunday.  As one who preached for 43 year, I know that such was my hope, but there were those times when the sermon was preached in response to the pressure of Sunday coming instead of holy inspiration.  Some seem so mundane and ordinary and filled more with duty than inspiration.  The amazing thing is that God can use even these to speak to the seeking heart of someone who has drawn aside hoping to hear the Word of God.   

Many have been the times when someone would tell me how God spoke a Word to them from a sermon I preached without any expectation that such a Word would be heard from the message.  In these retirement years filled with listening to other preachers, I have experienced this holy work from the other side of the altar.  Just this morning a sentence preached in the middle of a sermon about Thomas washed over a deep place in my spirit in a way which was not likely intended by the preacher, but I am sure was planned by God.  One of the exciting things about preaching is what God chooses to do with it!   I am grateful for the good preachers I am privileged to hear in this season of my life.  

When I first retired sixteen years ago, I was convinced there were no good preachers anymore.  Either the preaching has gotten better, or God has worked on my cynical heart because preaching is heard so differently now.  I was always grateful for the opportunity to preach the Word of God Sunday after Sunday.  Why He called me to such a task is something I have often pondered.  I am grateful, too, for the younger men and women who are taking seriously the work of preaching in these days.  One of the things we  can all do to help our preachers is to pray for them as they carry forward this important ministry of the church.

Good to Be Awake

I came within an inch of not going to church this morning.  I overslept.  After verbalizing that excuse, the next one came very easy.  I was tired.  In "two shakes of a rabbit's tail" I had added a few more.  Then it happened.  From two different directions, a single verse of Scripture arrived on the front burner of my brain, or maybe it was to the door of my heart.  The verse was from Hebrews 10:25 which says a word about "not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some..."  Actually, I knew it was not just the habit of some, but my habit as well.  

So, I went.  Arrived late.  Very late.  It was not too late to receive a blessing I would not have received had I stayed midst the sheets.  I would say that I know the importance of "not forsaking the assembly" as the King James Version renders it, but then there was this morning.  I grew up in a home where worship on Sunday morning and Sunday night was not optional.  As I began to build my own spiritual foundation, I came to understand and appreciate the value of what I was taught as a child.  Some would say that as preacher, I had no choice but to be there each Sunday; yet, it is also true that I was one of those diehards who never gave up offering Sunday night worship for those who would come.  Gathering with other believers is important.   

At the worship service I almost missed this morning, my heart was warmed by witnessing and sharing in the excitement of one baptism after another.  I watched as people came forward to be a part of the future of the church through membership.  I got to hear "Victory in Jesus" one more time.  I heard a sermon on doubting Thomas which the Holy Spirit applied to my heart in a new and fresh way.  Thanks be to God that I did not sleep at home or in church this morning! 

The Shepherd

What Jesus gave Simon Peter on their early morning walk on the beach was more than just forgiveness.  The setting for the moment is after the resurrection,  The disciples had seen the resurrected Jesus and had gone back fishing.  It seems like a unlikely thing for them to do, but they went back to something which fit inside their minds. The resurrection of Jesus was not something the mind could comprehend.  In that moment and in that place full of what was familiar to the disciples, Jesus showed up with breakfast for the body and forgiveness for the soul.  (John 21).  

In a moment filled with images of intimacy, we see Jesus getting Peter's attention as a way of separating him from the group around the charcoal fire and then slowly walking with him away from the others.  With His arm across Peter's shoulder they walk.  Jesus speaks softly into the ears of this broken and confused disciple until finally they fill Peter's heart to the point of breaking it.  Three times Peter had denied Jesus in the courtyard and now three times Jesus asked, "Simon son of John, do you love me..."  (John 21:15, 16, 17)   The smoke of the charcoal fire remembered from the courtyard of betrayal and the thrice asked questions were not lost on Peter.  "Lord, You know everything; You know that I love You."  (John 21:17).  

What Jesus said not only spoke of forgiveness for what was past, but spoke of Jesus' plan to include Peter in the unfolding work of the Kingdom.  Forgiveness is not just forgetting about the past.  It is about living into the future with love, acceptance, inclusion, and trust.  The forgiven Peter was no longer one who betrayed, but one entrusted as a shepherd for the sheep of God's Kingdom pasture.  

The Charcoal Fire

I grew up in a family filled with men who loved to fish.  My memories of my Father are few, but many of them are about fishing.  A boat, a river, a washtub full of fish which I am sure were counted by him and the uncles who joined him that day are but a few.  One thing I have learned about fishing stories over the years is that there is always a number.  While some might say, "we got a mess of fish," and while others might hold up the fish laden stringer, the real fish stories always include the number of fish brought home.  If a fish story is told without the number of fish caught, the story might be suspect!   

 

The litmus test of fishing stories is in the number which is why we know the story told in the 21st chapter of John is true.  After the resurrected Jesus showed Himself to the disciples, Simon Peter announced not a church meeting, but a fishing trip.  After the cross and resurrection, who can fault Peter for wanting to wrap his hands around something which was comfortable and familiar.  "I am going fishing," (John 21:3), Peter said to six of the other disciples who joined him in the boat that morning.  It was a fishing trip which netted "...large fish...a hundred fifty-three of them..." (John 21:11).  It was quite a catch, but the real news of the morning was the appearance of Jesus on the beach.   For those disciples who were looking for the touch of something real, Jesus cooked breakfast on a charcoal fire on the beach. 

 

The crackling fire and the smell of charcoal was not lost on Peter.  We must not let the power of what was subtle be lost on us.  It was the sight of the low burning flames and the smell of the smoke from a charcoal fire which filled the eyes and nostrils of Peter in that moment of betrayal.  The same Greek word for the charcoal fire is used in both places.  When Peter was invited for a walk on the beach with Jesus, the smell of that fire surely brought back memories of the sin of betrayal.  Jesus did not chastise him, nor speak words of judgment, but forgave him and entrusted to him the work of the Kingdom.  He continues doing this even today with folks like you and me.

Gifts of God

The older we get, the more we accumulate.  We accumulate stuff, relationships, memories, and experiences.  In one of those retrospective moments which seem to hang out here at the farm, it occurred to me how little I had fifty years ago when I was assigned as the pastor of the Talbotton Church.  All the stuff could be moved in a single U-Haul compared to the move into retirement which required several loads of a friend's borrowed covered truck. The people in my life then were important, but they are not nearly as many as those whom I was still to encounter.  Of course, the same is true of memories and experiences.   

Of the four, stuff is the least important.  I like the stuff around me.  It is like a warm blanket woven with colored threads of the past, but what is most important are the relationships with which God has blessed me.  The people in my life not only bring meaning to the present, but they are the stuff of which memories and experiences are made.  In these more recent years I find myself most grateful for the people whose lives have intersected with mine over these years which are reaching closer and closer to eighty.  

The people of the past have become like a storehouse of blessings slowly being released into my life.  Each phone call, note, or renewed connection from the past brings back memories and experiences which bless my heart as surely as rain gives life to the soil of the earth.  Not only am I discovering the treasures of this vast storehouse of relationships from the past, but God is continually bringing me into relationship with people never known or seen which reminds me that His blessings are not just from the past, but they are ever unfolding before me.  I know that whatever is ahead, I have been blessed and continue to be blessed by these precious gifts of God.

The Will of God

Discerning the will of God is complicated by our inability in deciding what we want to do. Instead of living with a "Thy will be done," attitude, we often find ourselves working up a spiritual sweat as we try to fit what we want to do, our own will, inside what is often the clearly heard Word telling us to move into a season of change that is frightening to us because it takes us away from the security of our status quo.  The real problem for many of us with the will of God is not so much in knowing what it is. as doing it.  

For Moses it meant a task which seemed impossible.  For Elijah it meant sitting beside a drying up stream for three years.  For Mary it meant risking the ridicule and scorn of people.  For several of the disciples, it meant leaving their livelihood.  For Jesus it meant going into Jerusalem when He knew He would have to die on a cross before leaving it.  Of course, these are all the Biblical stories and we want to regard those stories as being different from our stories, but the truth is, they are not really so different.   

Most recently God has given me so many new people for whom to pray that I am tempted to tell Him my page is full, but just yesterday He added another.  What I know is that it is His will for me to enter a season of being a more active and involved intercessor for others.  There also seems to be something just beyond the spiritual horizon that I cannot see, but yet, find myself being drawn toward it.  Any of us who are are intentionally seeking to walk with Jesus have a story of discernment.  We sense God's leading, but as is always the case, we want to hesitate since taking the risk puts us in a place of being uncomfortably vulnerable.  One thing we have learned about the will of God is that going after it takes us to a place where depending on Him is required.  This is the frightening part since we would rather go after those things we know are possible in our own strength.  

A Pure Heart

I am living incognito now.  Most of my hair disappeared during chemo.  Today I went to the barber for some trimming and his suggestion was shaving what was left of my beard.  I thought about that one a minute.  In some ways I feet more attached to the hair on my face than the hair on my head.  Until now I have always had hair on my head.  It has changed colors and gone from thick to thin, but it has remained until now.  On the other hand, my beard has been with me since 1986.  Most folks will not know me.  My face has been invisible a long time, but no more.  All that ugliness I have been hiding is now clearly exposed for all to see.   

It is good to know that God recognizes me and knows me regardless of the amount of hair on my head or face.  He has known me when I had unblemished skin even as He knows me now despite my wrinkled and worn out skin.  My appearance has never affected the way God accepts me and loves me.  I have been reminded through the years that God looks not upon the outward appearance, but the heart.   The Word says, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." (Matthew 5:8).  In another place it says, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me."  (Psalm 51:10). 

There was a time when it seemed that we could make our heart pure by doing what we were supposed to do and not doing what we not supposed to do.  I long ago quit playing that game.  Like the Psalmist David said long ago, a pure heart comes not because of us, but because of God.  When we say "Yes" to Jesus, the Holy Spirit comes to dwell in us and to create in us a clean and pure heart.  A pure heart is indeed about a heart that has been given over to the control of the Holy Spirit and His ongoing work of grace in our life.  

The Table

This Sunday was Easter Sunday.  It was also the first Sunday of the month.  This no doubt created a bit of a dilemma for some Methodist preachers who maintain a tradition of offering Holy Communion on the first Sunday of each month.  Of course, Easter Sunday is no ordinary Sunday.  The sanctuary is packed.  Music gets a big part of the worship time and the preacher hopes for a few minutes for the Easter sermon.  Where does this leave offering Communion which no matter how it is done, is going to take up more time than the people who are in a hurry to get to the restaurants want to give.  

I am not sure what most churches did.  Some probably decided to delay the Sacrament until second Sunday.  Some may have decided to wait until the next first Sunday.  The church I attended today apparently did not see it as a problem since people were invited to the Table at all three of the morning services, one of which was the Sunrise Service.  I received the Sacrament at its first offering and then became a watcher at the other two.  One of the things which struck me was the way we are all equal around the Table of the Lord.   

It is a common gathering place for nurturing the soul of the doctor and the homeless.  Some were struggling to walk and others were led by holding the hand of a parent.  Skin color, shirt collar color, economic status, church affiliation, and political persuasion were not important.  Everyone one who needed the gift of grace was welcome to come with open hands and seeking hearts.  I was grateful that I had a place at the Table of our Lord this morning and grateful, too, that so many different people came to join me.  

Easter

The last time I did what I did this morning was before retirement.  I went to an Easter Sunrise Service, had breakfast at the church, went to an early morning contemporary service with a stage full of guitars and drums, and then enjoyed the vibrant organ and piano music of the traditional Easter worship at 11 AM.  Oh yes, everything was at the same church!  Believe it or not, there is still another Easter worship service I want to share later online.  It has been such a great Easter Sunday!  Holy Communion was offered at each service and the final service concluded with the "Hallelujah Chorus."  I walked away with my cup running over!   

Easter is not something which disappoints.  I have shared Easter worship in large churches with all the bells and whistles and in very small churches where it truly was more like where "two or three" are gathered.  The only thing which could have been better about my Easter worship experience would have been preaching at the service.  Preaching on Easter Sunday is one of the highlights of any preacher's year and it is not because of the larger crowds, but because of the resurrection message.  Of course, any preacher who offered me a pulpit on Easter Sunday would be viewed with suspicion since no preacher should ever be found guilty of giving up their pulpit on Easter.    

Christ is risen!  What a wonderful message!  The reality of the resurrection of Jesus changes everything which is a part of life.  It is not that it is just an event which frees us from our fear of death, but one which frees us to live as life could never be lived without it.  Thanks be to God for the glorious life changing message which the church celebrates on this day.

Prayer for the Church

O Church of my heart, how long will you shut the door to what cannot be seen?  How long will you listen to the many voices instead of the one Voice?  How long will you stand at the crossroads and not look for the ancient path?  How long will you fear the risk that goes with faith in what is yet to be revealed?  How long will it be before signs and wonders once again appear midst your people?  How long will you wait for that which is yours?  O Church, when will you call out with a hunger in your soul for the gift of God's Spirit?

 

How long, O Lord, before there is a fresh anointing of Your Holy Spirit upon Your church?  How long will You hold back Your refining fire?  How long will it be before holy wind comes and drives the church out into the world?  How long will it be before the ordinary days of the church become filled with the extraordinary?  How long will it be until miracles become commonplace?  How long will it be before men and women who desire nothing but You come and stand as leaders, preachers, and prophets among us?  O Lord, how long?  How long will You tarry?

 

Come quickly, Holy Spirit.  Your church needs Your power.  Your church has lost its way.  Show it the ancient ways where good lies and where there is rest for the soul.  Come now, Holy Spirit.  Your church needs to know Your Holy Presence.  May Your shekinah glory be visited upon it once more.  May Your church once again become a spring of love for the unloved, a river of compassion for the suffering, and a deep ocean of passion for the lost.  Come, Holy Spirit, not later but now.  Your church needs You more than its silver and gold.  Come now, come quickly, Holy Spirit.  Your church has become powerless and needs Your power to be poured out once again upon it.  

Our Place is Important

It is interesting that the Biblical story is always told in the context of places.  Abraham's story began in a land known as Ur.  Moses grew up in Egypt.  Isaiah was a priest in the Temple in Jerusalem.  Ezekiel was a prophet who lived by the River Chebar.  Jesus walked the roads of Galilee.  John Wesley birthed Methodism out of England.  E. Stanley Jones is known for his missionary work in India. Deitrich Bonhoeffer served Christ in Germany.  Jesus became flesh among us in a little town of Bethlehem, but His work and presence is known in every corner of this round world.   

To drive across the countryside or across the county is to see one steeple after another on streets and roads that are as different as mountains are from the coastline.  Wherever there are people, there are those who are committed to following Jesus and being about His work in the places where He has put them.  There is no place where Christ cannot be served and His Kingdom advanced by the gifts offered to Him.  Many of the great revival movements began with a few people whose hearts burned so for God to work in their midst that they would not quit praying until He acted.  Many acts of kindness are not offered by some organized group, but by a single individual. 

The place where God put us is important in His story.  We may be the one in the particular place where we are upon whom He is depending.  A recent read put it this way, "Remember: you are your brother's keeper; you are your sister's keeper.  You're a watchman.  And where God has placed you, God has placed you on purpose."  ("Healing Prayer" by Chotka and Dunnam).

Sleeping or Awake

As we move deeper into Holy Week, we find that there are so many Biblical passages devoted to these final days of Jesus here on the earth.  Beginning with Palm Sunday, we move toward Good Friday and beyond to the empty tomb.  There are so many events sandwiched between those two Sundays that we are overwhelmed with possibilities for reading and reflection.  Tomorrow which is known as Maundy Thursday is the day the church remembers the final meal Jesus shared with His disciples, but it is also a day filled with many private and public moments.    

One moment often overlooked in the week's story is the moment of prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane.  It was where Judas brought the arresting authorities, but it is also a place of intense prayer for Jesus.  After instructing all the disciples to stay together to pray, He took with Him Peter, James, and John as He went deeper into the Garden, telling them, "I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me." (Matthew 26:38). They went to sleep.  Not once did they go to sleep, but three times.  Jesus was praying and agonizing over what was to come and those whom He called to be with Him went to sleep.  He needed them and they went to sleep.  

It is a picture which cuts to the core of our own heart as we ask ourselves about the number of times we were needed by Jesus and went to sleep, or let ourselves become occupied with some personal pursuit which took our attention away from His need for us to be involved with Him in what He was doing.  It is not hard to remember our own moments of waking up while praying, our moments of disappointing Him, or finding something else to instead of doing what we knew Jesus was calling us to do.  Jesus obviously seeks our presence and our help, or He would not have said, "Follow Me."