The Sweetest Gift

It is such a sweet moment, 

the sweetest of all, some say,

the moment just after here 

slips silently into sleep

where rampant thoughts

disappear and reappear

in a dark field of dreams.

 

Quickly comes the moment,

and no matter how long 

the mind's eye looks to see,

it comes and then is gone,

only knowing it has come

when the Spirit stirs within

making there, here again.

 

'Tis God's gift, this moment

when sleep gives release 

to the weary needing rest,

the troubled needing peace,

and the lost needing the way.

For a season, troubling things

go away into sleep's eternity.

 

But, always comes the moment

when light breaks on the morn,

sometimes here, sometimes there.

What is known as here is there,

what cannot be seen is seen.

The eye beholds the new day,

or the land beyond  the river. 

My Answer

The question I asked in my blog posting yesterday was a surprise to those who read what I am writing which might explain why there was only one reader who responded.  In retrospect it is not something most of us can answer on the spur of the moment.  As one person suggested it might require some reading and thinking.  If only one page from the Old Testament and only one page from the New Testament could be kept while the rest was thrown away, what would those pages, or chapters, or passages be?  Maybe it was not a fair question to spring on a unsuspecting mind and heart when I have been wrestling with it for years.  

If I could only have one page from the Old Testament it would be the one containing the creation story recorded in chapter one.  It has come to be a foundation stone for my faith as well as my understanding of who I am in this world created by God.  It is a passage that begins with the coming into being of the eternal light which then shines in and through everything else that was made and is being made.  The climax of the creation comes as "God saw everything He had made and indeed it was very good."  (Genesis 1:31)  I love the inclusiveness of those words, "everything...very good."   

My New Testament choice is John 1:1-14.  Known as the Prologue of John's gospel, it connects what was written about the beginning with the new beginning which came with the Incarnation.  The eternal light present in the creation is described by John as being present in the flesh of the Son of God.  Though darkness has taken hold of the creation since the beginning, Jesus has come to penetrate the darkness and overcome it completely.  As we read and know the Incarnate One revealed to us by the writing of John, we are reminded again that all life has come into being through the eternal light, the One known as the Light of the World.  Again, toward the end of the passage, we are swept away by that word which says, "But to all who received Him, who believed in His name, He gave power to become children of God..." (John 1:12)

A Biblical Experiment

What is the most important page in the Old Testament?  What is the most important page in the New Testament? There is no reason to be afraid of answering.  There is no right or wrong answer.  It is a question which reflects personal choice.  There is another way of asking the same question.  If for some unimaginable reason it was only possible to have one page from the Old Testament and one page from the New Testament, what two pages would be kept?  What passages are the foundational and sustaining passages?  

The answer would not only reflect a personal decision which might be different from someone else, but is could well be an answer that would be different today from the one which might have been given during another season of our life.  Maybe it is not a question worthy of much pondering, but being retired provides time for pondering things never before thought to be ponderable.  What set me off on this Biblical tangent was remembering a story from my Asbury College days that had long been forgotten until this morning. A missionary was describing the church in China.  He spoke of Christians possessing not a whole Bible, but only a torn out page or two.  What the missionary was underscoring for those of us who had Bibles we never read was the value the persecuted church had for the sacred Scripture.  

Perhaps, this morning pondering will provide a different window for reading  the Scripture for a few days.  Maybe the place to start is to list the ten most important passages in the Old and New Testament and then to begin a slow process of elimination until only one is left.  Some might declare such to be a waste of time and maybe it is, but it might also be an exercise which would help us know what is really important about this faith of ours.  It might help us understand the core values of our system of belief.

A Season of Blessing

The house here at the farm has become my home.  It is a simple place.  Very simple.  Perhaps, not so in the beginning, but over the years it has become a symbol of how God is calling me to live.  Simple, of course, is a relative word.  The fourteen hundred square foot home in which I live would be considered extravagant by some villagers of Uganda whom I have seen recently through the words of a Franciscan missionary.  At the other end of the spectrum, there are surely those who think it would be an impossible place to live.  For me it has become a good fit.  It is a visible call to simplify.  

One of the luxuries of my home is a ten by twelve porch out front.  This week in a way that has been special God has used it to bless my heart.  A few days ago a neighboring farmer and friend spent an hour or so sitting on the porch sipping a glass of ice water and chewing the fat.  Another day that same porch became a place to watch and feel the rain coming across the hay field and last night it provided a front row seat to a glorious full moon rising.  Certainly, it was not a trip to see the wonders of the world in far away places, but no one can convince me that I have not in the last few days seen and experienced wonders of the world.   

It is a good thing to be rooted somewhere.  It is a good thing to live in a place that invites me to live the slower life.  Here at the farm, things do not happen in a hurry.  The hay harvested yesterday took months to grow as did the pecan crop which hangs heavy in the trees.  I am sure there have been many who have wanted to live leaving their mark on the world, but here in this simple place I have learned that it is the Creation of the Heavenly Father that is leaving its mark on me.  It is a season of contentment and gratitude.  It is a season of blessing.   

Wet Grace

I knew you were coming, friend rain.

In the field wet with sweat, I saw 

you hovering in the distant gray

as if you were gathering strength

to come my way to renew and bless

the work of my hands on the land

and for this gift, I give you thanks.

 

With tractor now sheltered, and I

settled in a chair on the porch,

I heard what was seen coming

from the distant there to here

and when I knew you were near

I wanted to jump from the porch

and share a dance of joy with you.

 

But, old friend, such days are gone.

Father time and old stiff knees 

have taken away my two step,

but still I slowly rise and go

out from under the roof above

to the air now more than filled

with falling baptismal waters.

 

What is old now knows the new

that comes from being washed

with that not earned, but given

to this weary and worn out soul.

Wet now with what has come,

I raise these aching two hands

in praise to the One who gives. 

Words about Grace

The twentieth chapter of Matthew records Jesus telling the parable of the landowner.  The landowner goes out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard.  Several times during the day he goes back to the place where those wanting to work gathered to hire more workers.  Finally, when the sun had about an hour of daylight left, he goes back to the gathering place to hire another group to work the last hour of the day. The problem revealed in the parable is that he pays the ones who worked an hour at the end of the day the same amount he pays those who started and worked the whole day.   

What seems to be a parable about an unfair labor practice is at a deeper level a parable about the grace of God.  Those who worked the whole day felt they deserved more than those who came at the end of the day.  Few of us would disagree.  If we had been one of those who arrived in the field before the sun was up, we would be hollering, "It is is not fair.  I deserve more than these others."  What the parable boldly declares is that grace received is not based on what we do.  To say that grace is dependent on our human effort would deny the meaning of grace.  

The first thing which must be understood about God's grace is that it is a gift from Him. It is not a Christmas gift exchange.  It is not something that comes to us because we have given to Him.  Our birth is a gift.  The air we breathe is a gift.  The wealth we have and the life of affluence we enjoy is not something we have earned, it is a gift.  This is not to say that we have not worked hard, but it is to say that the ability, the energy, the health, and the opportunity is not ours to claim for it is a gift from God.  Life is about grace.  Life is lived and enjoyed because God blesses us unconditionally with His grace.  It is not something we deserve or earn.  All we can do is be grateful.

The Bottom of the Barrel

I remember once upon a time in my ministry when I had an argument with God which ended up much like the one Job had with God.  It was a time when I was wallowing around in a sea of self pity.  Those of us who sign on as Methodist preachers submit ourselves to going where sent, or at least, it used to be that way.  The place I was sent had more than its share of problem people who found fault with most everything I did.  I had been serving churches for more than just a few years, but at this one I started whining and complaining like those Hebrews who after sixty five days of freedom complained against Moses (and God) because of their hunger in the wilderness. (Exodus 16:1-30).  

I not only complained to God about the people He had given me to shepherd, but I also told Him I deserved better than what He had given me.  It was an argument that ended up like the one Job had with God.  I told God I deserved a better place to preach and He told me I did not deserve any place to preach.  I had enough sense to know He was right.  I did not deserve even the smallest church and certainly not the larger congregation to which I preached each Sunday.  I did not deserve any pulpit to preach and only had one because of the grace of God.  

Life really is all about the grace of God.  Grace given is not what any of us deserve.  We may say that people should get what they deserve, but such a conviction falls apart as soon as we start talking about ourselves.  Who among us wants what we deserve when we can receive the undeserved and unconditional grace of God?  The truth is none of us would trade the world of grace for the world of getting what we deserve.  The opportunity I have been given to preach the gospel is not something I deserve.  I have often said when God called me to preach, He was scraping the bottom of the barrel. As one rescued from the bottom of the barrel, I am grateful for the grace of God.