Reflections on Watermelons

The early arrival of unexpected summer heat has brought back memories of summer days in Alamo, Georgia when a summer job meant a watermelon field.  It was work that started just before the sun got up and ended just after it went down.  Four or five dollars for the day in the sun tossing watermelons was the normal pay.   Even though a occasional watermelon got dropped and became a snack in the field, it was still hard unrelenting sweaty work that had you looking for an afternoon shower of rain. 

Some might figure that it was out there in the watermelon field that I heard the call to preach.  Others might say it was motivation to go to college.  The truth is that watermelons had nothing to do with either decision.  The call to preach came one night during a devotional at a business meeting of the Alamo Methodist Church and was accepted a little later in the evening in my bedroom at the parsonage.  Though already planned, college became a part of getting ready for going where the call called me.  Watermelons had nothing to with the call to preach.  God had everything to do with it.

I sometimes wonder how it happens and why it does not happen more.  Some churches have a history of being used to call many into full time ministry and in other churches it never seems to happen.  Maybe it has to do with churches being fertile ground and planting the seed that can be nurtured to growth through the work of the Holy Spirit.  It is important that the call to ministry is sounded by the church.  It is important not for the sake of institutional preservation, but because the call to preach, or the call to ministry connects people with what God is stirring up in their heart and what He needs doing in the world. 

Praying With Faith

There are times when we pray our prayers with a measure of uncertainty and, maybe, even some guilt.  Whenever bad storms are on the horizon, it always seems appropriate to pray for protection.  Perhaps, we have even held up our hands and prayed that the storm would cease, or pass another way.  Of course, to pass another way means ill for our neighbor.  When the storm is over and we have been spared its destruction, we then find ourselves wondering if our prayers did have an effect, or was it just the way the storm moved. 

 

Of course, what we know is that prayer is not a science with rules and laws to follow, but a discipline which can only be practiced in faith.  Though I have been about this thing we know as praying for a life time, it seems that I know less about it than I did in the beginning.  It is not that I have lost the sense that prayer is at its core a simple discipline, but that the more I have prayed, the deeper seems the mystery.  I can understand well enough the mechanics of the ritual, but all that is unleashed in the spiritual realm is an entirely different thing.

 

Still, I pray.  I could not live without prayer.  I pray and I appreciate knowing that others have prayed and are praying for me.  I am one of those who believes that life is only diminished when prayer is removed from the spiritual equation.  Whether our prayers are long or short, filled with down to earth language or the holy ritual of the ages, it is important we pray.  God uses these prayers we offer.  I seldom understand exactly how that works, but faith calls me to know that such is true.  And so I pray.  Just as you pray.  With faith. 

 

 

Spiritual Space

Even though there were no deserts in Ireland, the Celtic monks were likely influenced by the tradition of the desert fathers.  The sacred places that became substitutes were the wild places of the lush wilderness which surrounded them.  The retreat spaces of the Celtic monks were caves, or crudely constructed habitations, but the space with which they and the desert fathers were concerned was the inner space of the heart.  As most of us know, the real spiritual battles and struggles are not peculiar to some geographic spot, but inside the inner spaces where battles of the will and faithfulness to God are waged. 

The Apostle Paul spoke of this spiritual struggle in his letter to the Roman Christians, "I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate....I can will what is right, but I cannot do it.  For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do."  (Romans 7:15, 19)  Most of us do not require a Biblical commentary, or some wise other person in our life, to understand what the Word of God is saying to us.  It is speaking of a spiritual condition common to each one of us. 

We likely do not have a retreat space set apart somewhere so that we can separate ourselves from distractions, internal and external, but there is still a need for us to create space in our lives to pursue what it means for us to live according to the way God is calling us to live.  It is hard work.  It is going to take more than a few minutes in the midst of daily devotional routine.  While there may be some help if we are able to have a spiritual mentor, most of the heart probing simply requires a sure dose of honesty, a willingness to confess instead of blame, and an openness to whatever the Holy Spirit wants to do in our life. 

Unknown Helpers

One of the treasures I have from the past is a small pocket New Testament my father carried with him as he went to the Pacific to fly bombing missions during WWII.  For much of my life it was mostly a keepsake that had value because he held it in his hands and read from its pages.  In any purge of my book collection it would be one of the last ones to go.  However, more recently I have found myself thinking about the way it was placed in his hands.  Someone donated money for its printing.  Someone else must have boxed them up and still another placed it his hands. 

 

It reminds me that so many of the things which have nurtured our spiritual lives are things done by unknown people.  In most cases those people could never know the impact of the gift of ministry they offered.  Surely, the person who placed this small Bible in my Father's hand could not have imagined his son reading from that same Bible over seventy years later.  Such is the way the Kingdom of God is present in our midst.  Like a mustard seed.  Small things done for Christ have a way of accomplishing His purposes in ways no one would ever imagine.

 

It is true for us.  While it is true that each one of us has been the recipient of the faithfulness of others who have gone before us, it is also true that God continues to work in the same way through us.  Think about the possibilities for a moment.  Actually, we cannot really stretch our mind to entertain the possibilities which can become realities through the ongoing work of the Spirit.  But, what we can know is the fact that the little things we do in the present moment for Christ have a rippling effect which will touch lives far beyond the present moment in which we live.  One day someone like you and me may be thinking back over the span of their years of faithfulness and we will be the unknown helpers from their past. 

Seasons

When I left the Sunday to Sunday preaching for the farm almost ten years ago and entered into that land called "retirement" I spoke of it as the final season of my life.  I suppose what I was speaking mainly about was what I figured would be my last move.  More years were in the rear view mirror than I would ever see through the front windshield so it just seemed like an appropriate word for the moment.  However, since getting into that land and learning to live in it, the final season mentality has been replaced by a different understanding of the seasons of our life.

 

Ecclesiastes 3:3 says, "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under the heavens..."  It is the second part of that verse which has really taken on a different meaning in these past years.  Instead of thinking of these years as the season of the final years, I have come to see them as the season for listening, the season for paying attention, the season for living more slowly, and the season for finding a new awareness of how God makes Himself known in our lives.  In some ways it seems that I have never  before lived in these seasons which some time ago seemed to belong more to the leftover part of life instead of the main part of it.

Something often heard through the years has been the phrase, "God is not through with me yet" and indeed such is true for anyone of us who continues to walk this earth and breathe its air.  What the Spirit is seeking to do in our life is to bring our heart to a place where it more clearly reflects the very heart of Christ.  He is working in us to bring the image and spirit of Christ into the world through us.  There ought never be for us an inner sense that we have arrived, but always an inner sense of gratitude that God is continuing to shape us from within through the power of His abiding Spirit. 

Thin Places

While there are some people who are not drawn to the place where the waters of the ocean touch the sand of the earth, it is obviously a place which has a drawing power for many of us.  I confess to being one of those who always enjoys time at the beach.  When I was young, it was the water.  As I got older it was running along the water's edge and as I have gotten even older, the running has become walking.  Even sitting and looking at the vastness of water and sky has a power all its own.

 

We are not the first to find something mysterious and drawing about the meeting place between water and earth.  In the Celtic tradition it is regarded as a threshold place.  A threshold place is what it seems to be.  A door has a threshold.  It is a place where outside ends and inside begins, or a place where inside ends and outside begins.  When stepping through the threshold, there is a brief second when we stand in both places.  To read about Celtic spirituality is to learn that thresholds are regarded as thin places where the physical realm and the spiritual mingle in mysterious ways. 

I thought about this possibility recently as I walked the beach.  But, mostly I thought about how life is filled with more moments filled with both beginning and ending than I often realize.  Every morning's sunrise and every evening's sunset is such a moment.  Every single moment we live is potentially both an ending and a beginning moment.  We are constantly walking through thresholds.  The Celts seemed more aware of the sacred possibilities of each moment.  How different our living would be if we could live with an awareness that each moment is a sacred moment instead one through which we are to hurry so we can get to the next one.   

Two Throwaway Shells

When I started my recent beach walk I knew the sun was up high enough to chase away all the serious shell seekers and that they had left with all the keepers, the good looking shells, the ones to take home and display on the mantle piece.  Still, I found myself looking down at all the thousands of the leftovers as I walked along the water's edge.  I finally picked up two shells.  Neither one could be called a beauty or a treasure.  Neither one was one which made me want to say, "Look at what I found."  They were just ordinary shells worn down by the journey and hardly anything anyone might call pretty.

 

As I held those two shells in my hand, I made a quiet decision to keep them because they are like the most of us.  Most of us are worn down more than just a little by our journey.  We have been thrown one way and another by forces over which we had no control.  And while there are some around us who might win a prize for good looks, such is not the case for me, and maybe not the most of us.  Ordinary looking is what most of us seem to be. 

 

Yet, like those two shells in my hand, we are still keepers.  The God who created us and brought us into being holds us in His hands and sees a value that not everyone is able to see.  We may look like a thousand or a million other leftovers, but we are still important to Him.  Being one of the good looking ones is not necessary for Him to stoop over and lift us up from whatever mire filled situation in which we might find ourselves.  Years ago I remember seeing a bumper sticker which said, "God don't make no junk."  It is also true the throwaway sea shells are an important part of His creation.  And, the same is true of all of us, each one of us. 

The Easter Breakout

It was a quiet peaceful Easter afternoon and a nice nap was just completed when I realized the cows were not in the pasture where they belonged.  Instead the whole herd of twelve were walking around in the unfenced hayfield next to the house.  In a second I went from nap mode to high gear.  I hurriedly got a bucket and some cow feed laced with molasses.  Just before the girls made it to the neighbor's field, I gave my best cow call and started beating on the bucket with my hand.  They came running and I led them back in the gate which had mysteriously been forced open.  Maybe it was the wind, or maybe a couple of cows were into mayhem!

 

To be on the safe side, I think I am going to buy a new padlock.  Maybe a bigger one.  One that looks stronger than the one that has served me for nine years.  As I thought about the cows getting out from a padlocked gate, I thought about Jesus getting out of a tomb locked by a big stone.  After all, it was Easter afternoon.  I could put my cows back behind what held them where I put them, but it was impossible to put Jesus back in the tomb and keep Him there with a bigger stronger looking stone. He made it out of that tomb and it was an irreversible act that had life changing impact for all of us.  When we shout "He is Risen!" on Easter Sunday, it is for real.

Are we not all grateful beyond measure that there was nothing which could keep Jesus in the tomb?  Even as His death and resurrection broke the power of sin in our lives, so did it break the power of death over us.  I cannot begin to understand it.  It is beyond anything I can explain.   But, not understanding has not kept me from a sure and certain hope that even as Jesus has been raised from the dead, so shall we as we put our faith and trust in Him.  I have believed it since that day my father died when I was seven, I came to a  place of accepting it as truth when I first decided to follow Jesus, and it shall be my song till I die and enter into that glorious life that Jesus has been preparing for me since before the beginning.  All praise to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.   

The Final Word

One thing I have noticed over the years about Easter preaching is the reluctance of preachers to talk about resurrection.  And, even as I make the observation, I must confess that I have gone that route more than just a year or two as well.  Strange.  The very thing which gives everything about the gospel credibility is found in the empty tomb.  The Apostle Paul had it right when he wrote those Corinthian Christians saying, "If there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain."  (I Corinthians 15:13-14) 

 

While everything hangs on the resurrection of Jesus, too many times we preachers end up avoiding the literal event which happened and its implication for a watered down talk about hope and new beginnings.  It is not like we are not going to die.  One thing we all have in common, one thing which is inevitable, is our death.  Perhaps, that is part of the reason for the avoidance of resurrection preaching.  Resurrection pre-supposes dying and who wants to be reminded of their death when they are all dressed up in their finest. 

But, the gospel is about our living and dying and rising.  Just like Jesus.  We say we believe that Jesus lived and died and was raised from the dead and that even as He has died and been raised, so shall we.  It is just not something we talk about.  Maybe no one wants to be called other worldly.  Maybe dealing with the problems of the present moment seem to call for more attention than the message of the resurrection.  However, when the end is upon us, it seems to me that two things confront us.  We want to know our life has not been a wasted trip.  We want to close our eyes in death knowing that our life counted.  And secondly, we want to have an assurance that though death is real, it never has the final word in living.  Somehow, I figure more folks on Easter Sunday want to hear that the final word has been proclaimed from the empty tomb. 

Easter Morning

For as long as I can remember, there has always seemed something special about Easter Morning.  It is hard to put in words.  The things which make the morning seem like morning are more morning than any other morning, or so it has always seemed.  The colors of the morning seem sharper and deeper.  The crispness of the morning feels sharper.  The air of the morning seems cleaner and fresher.  To walk into it seems like walking into something which has never been before.  Easter Morning has just always had the feeling of being different and special.

 

As I think back on these thoughts of a life time, I am caused to think that maybe it was not so much the physical things of the morning as it was the anticipation I carried with me.  There has been no other morning which dawns with such anticipation.  To wake up on Easter Morning is to anticipate gathering with the people of God to joyously celebrate the resurrection of Jesus.  "Christ the Lord is risen today" is to be sung at the top of our voices.  The gospel reading of the empty tomb, though heard and read for what seems like a human's version of forever,  is to be read and heard with eagerness.  And, as a preacher, there is no Sunday for preaching like Easter Morning.

 

It is not just the overflowing sanctuary which creates excitement for the preacher on Easter Morning, but the message to be preached.  Any preacher whose blood does not stir a little more on Easter, or whose fear of not being able to deliver the most powerful life changing Word, should turn in ordination credentials.  There is no morning like this morning we call Easter Morning.  It is the moment we pause on the edge of eternity and shout at the top of our voices that Christ is Risen and that one single Word has made and continues to make life different now and forever for all of us.  Thanks be to God and the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Beach Walking

Standing here.
Eternity
   blowing in my face,
   washing o'er my feet,
   roaring in my ears,
Forever.
Here and there.

By the three
Surrounded.
    Earth beneath me,
    water before me,
    blue sky above me.
Unending.
Everywhere.

Blessing me
Holy Three.
    Mercy giving God,
    grace gifting Son,
    abiding Spirit.
Now and then.
Forever more. 

Getting Ready

Sometimes we know the right thing to do, but we just don't do it.  And, the truth is, it may just be that we are not ready to do it.  The first time I heard such a sentiment was back in the '60s when the civil rights issues were very much on everyone's minds.  "I know what the right thing to do is, I just ain't ready to do it," was how it got put in one story which made its rounds more than just a few times.   It may not sound pretty and it may not sound like who we want others to see as they look at us, but sometimes that sentiment is just where we are.

 

I thought of this the other day while reading the 69th Psalm.  In this rather lengthy Psalm we finally come to a place where the much maligned and unjustly persecuted writer tells God what He should do about his enemies, "Add to their guilt; may they have no acquittal from You.  Let them be blotted out of the book of the living; let them not be enrolled among the righteous."  (Psalm 69:27-28)  His honest sentiments are a long way from what we hear Jesus saying in the Sermon on the Mount.  "But, I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."  (Matthew 5:44)

 

So, how do we get from the harsh and brutal honesty of the Psalmist to the gracious forgiveness of Jesus.  It may not be a short or easy journey.  It is easy to talk about forgiveness when we are neck deep in our hurt and anger, but often hard to really do.  Perhaps, the beginning point of the journey from the desire for revenge to a willingness to forgive is honesty about the real feelings which lurk in our heart.  Only when we face our honest feelings can we decide we are ready to do something about them. 

Slowly

If you ever decide to go into the woods to watch pine trees grow, be sure to take a comfortable chair.  A very comfortable chair.  It occurred to me this morning as I was driving down one of those country roads with planted pine trees rowed up on both sides that creation is not in a hurry.  A tree farmer must have all kinds of patience as it takes somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty or twenty-five years to grow a crop.  Nothing about creation speaks of being in a hurry.

 

Our children take nine months to be birthed after conception.  The same is true of the cows out in the pasture.  Plant a seed in the garden and it will take a couple of months to produce fruit.  And even before the seed is able to germinate, the soil has to slowly reach a warm growing temperature after the onslaught of winter weather.  Everything takes time.  Everything has its season.  Nothing gets in a hurry.  It just does and grows as it is supposed to do.  My morning lesson told me pine trees do not grow in a hurry.  Neither does anything else which is a part of creation.  Everything moves slowly.

 

Of course, there is always an exception.  The one part of creation which does not abide by the rule of moving slow is the human species.  People like you and me always seem to be in a hurry.  We have trouble being in the here and now, the present, because our eyes are always casting looks toward tomorrow and what is in the future.  Hurrying seems to be our middle name.  It makes you wonder if part of our problem with living is that we are out of step with the creation the Creator God has put all around us.  We are blessed with a privileged place in the creation, but, strangely enough, live out of rhythm with every part it.  Creation says "Slow, let it come," but we never do. 

Rider in the Sky

"Ghost Riders in the Sky" was what first came to mind when I read those puzzling verses in the 68th Psalm.  But, somehow it just did not seem like the right fit.   From the very beginning it struck me as an unusual, if not creative, way to speak of God.  The first time was in the 4th verse where the Word says, "Sing to God, sing praises to His name; lift up a song to Him who rides upon the clouds..."  And then much later in the 33rd verse the writer wrote of the Lord with the words, "O rider in the heavens, the ancient heavens..."  Puzzling.  At least for me.

 

What finally shed some light was a footnote which offered an alternative translation for the 4th verse.  The alternative read, "casts up a highway for Him who rides through the desert."  While it is hard for this preacher with little Hebrew language training to figure how such different images could come from the same words, it caused me to do what I should have done from the beginning and that was to read the larger context of those two verses.  When it finally dawned on me that the larger passage was about God delivering the Hebrews from Egypt, the "rider upon the clouds" image clicked. 

 

By now everyone has surely raced ahead of me to the 13th chapter of Exodus where it says, "The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way..."  (Exodus 13:21)  The rider in the heavens and in the clouds was indeed the Lord.  I like Biblical images.  They make us think a bit more than we planned.  This image opens doors to our minds and imagination in such a way that we might even find ourselves looking up to watch the clouds more closely.  And, who knows what or Who we might see when we start looking?

A Different View

Any reading of the Old Testament enables us to understand that God is not a dis-interested party when it comes to the affairs of the nations.  The Hebrews were granted their desire for a king even though it was allowed with reluctance.  It was not an expression of the divine intention, but then, the divine intention never is so poured in cement that there is no room for the expression of human free will.  And when we read the words of the prophets, it becomes even clearer that God had not stepped back from involvement in the affairs of nations.  He even used pagan non believing rulers for His purposes.

 

Even King David recognized that his authority was subject to authority of God.  In verse 4 of Psalm 67 we hear the Word of God being spoken through his writings, "...You (God) ...guide the nations upon the earth."   In our contemporary political world we have come to a place of living out a belief that what happens with a nation and among nations has nothing to do with God, but everything to do with its political leaders and political processes.  It never really seems apparent that those leaders see themselves as instruments in the hands of God to achieve His purposes for His people.  Too often those who lead see themselves as being the ones who hold the power card. 

 

To try to look at the current world of ours through the lens of Old Testament theology is a difficult thing for us because we have gone so long disregarding the possibility that God is still involved in the affairs of nations and is still working out His ways through the political processes we hold so dear.  But, our disregard for what is a reality within  the Kingdom of God does not change the truth that "God guides the nations."  While politicians might look at this reality as an impossibility, such thinking only says more about their heart's desires than God's.

Buffet Culture

We live in a buffet culture.  Pick and choose.  Look at something and call it good.  Take and eat.  No one walks alongside of us telling us what is good, what we should take, and why it might be the right choice.  In the buffet culture, it is all about me.  Some folks take their buffet culture mentality to their practice of reading the Word.  We pick and choose and what is good is determined not by some absolute truth or centuries of historical tradition, but by me and my personal choice.  The buffet culture gives us all sorts of choices and we are the ones in charge.

 

Such a mentality gives rise to all sorts of scriptural heresies, misinterpretations, and misguided applications.  Perhaps, we embrace this buffet culture mentality when reading the Word because it provides for us a sense of being in control of our own truth and not having to be dependent on anyone or anything else to point out truth to us.  In Biblical circles we sometimes hear the word exegesis which means getting at what the Word is saying.   Another word which is used less frequently is eisegesis which means what the Word is saying is determined by personal bias or opinion.  Eisegesis does not demand anyone else's agreement.  The interpretation and application is all about me.

It is not hard to figure that the buffet culture mentality is a like a slippery road on a rainy day.  We are likely to end up in the ditch thinking that is where everyone else is traveling as well.  In a day when churches are crying for autonomy instead of connectionalism, when popular opinion always prevails over outdated tradition, and when the deciding vote belongs to me instead of God, it is no wonder there is such chaos in the church.  The Scripture has been around for a long, long time and has proven to be a faithful guide for churches and believers of every generation.  While we may not always like what the Word is saying, it has far more value than what you and I think the Word is saying.

Heart Words

Sitting with one of the Psalms is often something which requires a longer period of time than we might have been prepared to give in the beginning.  And sometimes, it is not the Word received in the moment of the first reading which blesses, but one that comes after a day of carrying the memory of the reading.  Time is what is necessary to really hear the Word our heart is longing to hear.  Actually, the Psalms are like other parts of the Scripture in this respect.  It often takes more than a moment to really hear.

 

The 66th Psalm is one of those which teases the mind with so many possibilities for a Word from God.  It is one that begins with a sweeping picture which brings into view "all the earth" (Psalm 66:1), and then moves to a place where the community of God's people are brought into view.  "Bless our God, O people," the Psalmist writes. (Psalm 66:8)  Finally, the sweeping picture is replaced by a single soul standing before God giving witness to His goodness.  "Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what He has done for me."  (Psalm 66:16)  Where is it that our heart responds?  Where is it that God invites us to stop and stay awhile?

 

These kinds of questions always seem to be out there as we begin reading what David had in his heart.  The heart words of the writer echo the heart words of so many of us.  When we read the Psalms, we are not really looking for theological correctness and precise teaching, but a word which touches the deep places of our heart.  As we read and listen for God's invitation to stop and meditate for a time on a piece of a larger passage, we are positioning ourselves to hear a Word from God for which our own heart is searching.

Creation's Praise

As we read the Psalms, we are likely to come away thinking that there are some sounds we have not yet heard.  The final two verses of the 65th Psalm take us to such a place as it says, "The pastures of the wilderness overflow, the hills gird themselves with joy, the meadows cloth themselves with flocks, the valleys deck themselves with grain, they shout and sing together for joy."  What a rhapsody of praise is described with these words.  It is the kind of word which makes us want to go outside and wait for the outpouring of creation's praise to begin.

Obviously, our not hearing does not limit or stop or hinder these outbursts of praise.  Certainly there are those moments when are spiritual senses are so tuned in to what is happening that we not only are able to be surrounded by such praise, but are also privileged to join in the heavenly chorus which is resounding all around us.  It brings to mind some night time ramblings into the woods and experiencing the reverberations of sound which are raised up by some of the critters who are stirring and making themselves known.  Bullfrogs can become the main vocalists in this nocturnal chorus.  And, who is to say their voices are not received as praise by their Creator?

 

The creation is more alive and full of God than most of us ever see or know.  We are simply running too hard to wherever it is we are going.  Maybe I have not been privy to hearing much of creation's chorus of praise, but the Word of God declares it is happening all around us.  Perhaps, we need to get outside and do some of our shouting and singing and then stop for a moment to see what might be joining with us in praising God. 

Warts and All

The Bible is a real piece of writing.  It is not something which sugarcoats reality.  One thing which has to be said of its portrayals of the patriarchs, prophets, and other saints is that they are pictured as Oliver Cromwell once spoke of himself, "warts and all."  The men and women who have become the Biblical heroes are flawed like the rest of us.  "Warts and all" is how we see them.

 

One of the most read and powerful sections of the Word of God is the part known as the book of Psalms.  At its core it is like a collection of prayers, acts of praise, and words designed to glorify God.  They have been recited, or recorded, or remembered by most who have set out on the faith journey with God.  But, as wonderful as they are, they speak the words of real people.  We do not always pray the best for those around us.  Sometimes our anger and hurt results in our venting deep feelings before God which hardly speak of one who is seeking to love as Jesus calls us to love. 

 

The 64th Psalm is such an honest Psalm.  It is a prayer of pleading for protection from those who would destroy with the deadly power of malicious words.  "Hide me from the secrets plots of the wicked...who whet their tongues like swords, who aim bitter words like arrows..." (Psalm 64:2-3)  And what does the one praying desire for God to do to these enemies?  "But God will shoot His arrows at them, they will be wounded suddenly..." (Psalm 64:7)  Maybe praying for God to shoot down our enemies is something other than loving them.  But, if such is where we are, it is better to say it than deny it.  God can hear even the worst of desires from us and still work in our hearts to bring us to a far different and better place. 

Soul Work

"Follow your heart," is what those who are seeking love are told by those who supposedly have found it.   Those on the journey of faith might hear a similar word as they are told, "Follow your soul."  The soul within us is defined in many ways by both the secular and the sacred culture, but certainly it is that part of us that bears the image of our creator God, reflects the heart of Christ, and provides a kind of dwelling place for the Holy Spirit who abides and dwells in us.  Surely, it must be true that this most intimate and integral part of our inner being is constantly working to move us toward the One who brought us into being, who has delivered us from our sins, and who is empowering us for life.

 

To "Follow your soul" speaks of going home to God and of dwelling in His presence in the here and now of life as well as in the life that is promised beyond the grave.  Three times in the 63rd Psalm the writer speaks of the soul.  "O God, You are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for You...(vs. 1)...my soul is satisfied as with a rich feast...(vs.5)...my soul clings to You...(vs. 8)  While the words of action attached to the activity of the soul might be difficult to understand happening all at once, what is clear is that in each instance the soul is taking the writer of the Psalm toward intimacy with God. 

Is not this what is happening with each one of us?  Is it not true that our soul has been going after God, seeking the nurturing heart of Christ, and desiring more and more for the presence of the Spirit to have complete control of our lives?  Is it not true that our soul is constantly responding to the blessings of God and going after Him with an intensity that is racing ahead making us feel like our soul is often dragging the rest of us along behind it?

Blessings and Gratitude

Every time I pick up my Gratitude Journal from the table, I find myself feeling guilt first and then thanksgiving.  The guilt rises as I realize how few entries I have made in the days which are hardly in the past.  While I do not see myself as a person who is ungrateful, the discipline of recording those things for which I am grateful is a difficult one.  I have good intentions, but somehow those intentions never get the kind of expression for which I hoped. 

 

One of the  things I have discovered about gratitude is that I am a more grateful person as I allow myself to look at the world and everything in it as a blessing.  There is so much happening in the creation around me which blesses me and to be in tune with these blessings creates a deeper sense of gratitude.  It is easy to be thankful for the big things like sunsets and stars at night and cool breezes on a hot day, but there are so many little things constantly happening which we experience; yet, do not really see as something that is bringing blessing into our lives.

 

I watched a couple of bees flitting around the other day.  They blessed me with a moment of joyful entertainment as I watched their shenanigans, but they also bless me by doing the pollination work in the blueberry patch.  I ran into an old friend for a few moments the other day and together we touched a mutual care and appreciation for each other.  Nothing much to the conversation, but the personal contact was a blessing.  And then there is this glass of ice water in front of me.  It is such a simple thing, but blesses me in many ways.  The old song has it right when it calls us to "count our blessings, one by one."  It does surprise you to see what God has done and is doing.  Makes you grateful, too. 

Some Days

Some days
   are filled more
   with weariness
   than strength.

Some days
   are impossible
   to get through
   if all alone.

Some days
   it is clear
   that Christ
   enables.

Some days
   bring the new
   the unexpected
   the surprise.

Some days
   are all filled
   with Jesus
   enough and more. 

Who, Not What

When I was a boy with an unending life stretching out into the years, I was often asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"  My first answer which is interesting since I have ended up on a farm with farm work and cows was a farmer.  Later on I read about Albert Schweitzer and decided a missionary to Africa might be a good choice.  Then as I ventured into high school, I saw myself becoming a meteorologist.  Of course, just before I got my high school diploma, God stepped in speaking of a option I did not want to choose. 

 

It is the kind of question still asked of young people.  Of course, it is the wrong question.  The question which all of us should be asking ourselves throughout our life is not the one which starts with "What......," but "Who do you want to be when you grow up." Or, maybe it not really the question of tomorrow, but one for every day we are blessed to live this life.  Maybe the real question for each day is "Who do you want to be?"

 

We answer the question every day.  It is not the question which takes us into the external world, but the question which finds its answer in the internal world of our heart.  It is the question which demands consideration of priorities, values, and loyalties.  It is also the question which demands that we give consideration to the Creator God.  We will either choose to live with gratitude for the marvelous gift He has given to us, or we will choose to live as if our existence is not about Him, but about us.  It is important concern because the One who created us had a purpose in mind for us.  Those who answer well the question, "Who do you want to be?"  are those who are constantly posing a slight variation to the Creator God who set us on our way which is, "Who do You want me to be?"

Refusing Flowering

Late this afternoon after a weed pulling session in the garden, I started out only to be stopped in my tracks by the grape vine as it stretched from one post to the other.  Small lime green leaves were starting to show themselves on the gnarled vine.  It is an old vine that has been heavy with fruit in years past.  So heavy has it been that the branch coming out of the ground is like a bent knee in a perpetual posture of prayer. I stood still and watched for a time.  Someone watching might have thought I was waiting for a leave to unfurl, or maybe, for grapes to appear.

As I stood in that still moment of evening quiet it occurred to me that the grape vine was just doing what it was supposed to do.  It was working toward its purpose.  It was working toward its purpose just like the purple iris going upward toward the sun and the nearby peach tree with its marble size peaches clustered on the limb.  A book I am reading ("The Soul's Slow Ripening" by Christine Valters Paintner) refers to a line of poetry written by David Whyte, "Why are we the one terrible part of creation privileged to refuse our own flowering?" 

Everything around us in the creation is moving toward fulfilling its purpose.  It may be slow, but it is certain.  Inevitable.  But, not so with us.  We, too, like the rest of creation have been put here with a purpose, but unlike the rest of the creation, we can choose something other than our created purpose.  Theologians call it free will.  As one of the ancient catechisms reminds us, we are here to bring glory to God.  It is a noble purpose indeed.  Unfortunately, we tend to choose other things.  As the poet put it, we often refuse our own flowering.

Better Preaching

I never saw myself as a long winded preacher.  The folks in my first church bragged about my sermons telling me they had never heard such short sermons.  And if brevity is the hallmark of a good sermon, my five minute sermons back in those days were surely good ones.  It is not that I did not want to preach longer, I just ran out quicker than I planned.  However, as the years went along, my sermons did get longer.  Before it was all said and done, there were surely folks who were saying they were too long.  Nothing is worse than listening to a preacher who keeps running by stopping places.  Like many others who have stood in the pulpit, I am guilty of that preaching error.

 

Time has little to do with good preaching.  Good preaching is mostly about what happens before the preacher gets to the pulpit.  Of course, this is not to say that the actual delivery and preaching of the sermon is an unimportant thing, but a way of pointing to the importance of prayer and preparation.  No preacher preaches his best until prayers have been prayed.  The prayers that make for good preaching are not the prayers asking God to bless the prepared sermon, but the prayer asking for guidance and help in the preparation.  The praying that makes for good preaching is the prayer that seeks the Word which God wants to say on the Sunday which stands waiting. 

 

And, while there are some who can get up in the pulpit, throw open the Bible in a random fashion, and read a sighted text from which to preach, it never has been that easy for this preacher.  There are books on preaching which make suggestions about how many hours should be spent in the study for every minute of preaching.  Mostly what those guideline suggest is that a good sermon takes time to get ready for the pulpit.  Praying for the preachers we see and hear preaching is never a bad thing to do.  They need the prayers of the pew sitters and the pew sitters need to be partnering through prayer with the preacher.  It all works together for better preaching. 

Empty Pew Lessons

A long, long time ago I went to the Blakely United Methodist Church as a summer youth worker.  The pastor that summer was named Clark Pafford.  Knowing that I intended on becoming a preacher, he gave me opportunities to preach during that summer.  But, before he allowed me to step in the pulpit on Sunday morning, he insisted that I preach the sermon to empty pews on Saturday night.   However, the pews were not really empty as he sat there on Saturday night to listen and offer help for the Sunday preaching. 

 

During all the years I preached, right up the Sunday I retired, I continued going to the sanctuary either on Saturday night or early Sunday morning to preach to the empty pews.  I am convinced it made me a better preacher than I could have been otherwise.  I learned a lot from preaching to empty pews.  As I listened to the empty pew preaching, I sometimes heard some things that did not work.  It gave me time to think about hand gestures and body movement.  After preaching through the sermon a couple of times when no one was present to listen, I began to feel like the sermon was a part of me and I was ready to preach it. 

 

Now, not every preacher requires that kind of Saturday night work to be an effective preacher.  I saw and heard many through the years who were far beyond me in effectiveness and skill.  But, it is also true that anything we do which we want to do well is going to require hard work.  This is certainly true as well with our relationship with Christ.  Relationships, the kind that become important to us, do not just happen.  They require work, hard work.  No one should be disappointed in a mediocre walk with God until they have done their part and more in the relationship.  God is more than willing to do His part in this partnership.  The cross on which Jesus died was His part and more. 

Cloud Witnesses

One of the most visual verses of Scripture is found in the beginning of the 12th chapter of Hebrews.  Many of us remember how it goes.  "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses..."  (Hebrews 12:1)  It is such a powerful word.  It creates an image which is both comforting and encouraging.  Those who have gone before us are heavenly watches as we finish the journey and the language give credence to them offering encouragement from the heavenly places.  In these later years I have been enabled to glimpse more and more of these saints who lives I shared on this journey of faith.

 

I am grateful for them.  I remember so many of them.  There are times when I call some of their names aloud.  If they are able to see through the veil and take note of me and pray for me from time to time, I am blessed far more than I could ever deserve.  While it is true that the Word of God speaks of all of us who believe in Jesus as the saints of God, it also seems that there is something special about those who have walked the road here faithfully and gone to the heavenly place.  Maybe that something special is denoted in the words, "a great cloud of witnesses."

 

There are numerous places where the image of the clouds points toward the presence of the holy.  The Mount of Transfiguration was overwhelmed with clouds when Elijah and Moses made their appearance to Jesus and the book of Acts tells us that at the Ascension "Jesus was lifted up, and a cloud took Him out of their sight."  (Acts 2:9)  Surely, the language of Hebrews points us toward those who have gone before as being those who are alive where majestic glory and divine mystery prevail.  We walk where these saints have trod and we are marching where they have marched on their way to the incomparable realm of eternity. 

The Celtic Way

Celtic Christianity developed between the fifth and eleventh century in a region of the world influenced greatly by pagan and Druid traditions.  As this indigenous spiritual community began to take root, it did not throw away all that was a part of its past, but adopted and included part of that culture inside its growing theology.  Thus, one of the thing so dominant in Celtic spirituality is a deep respect for the creation and a high regard for its cycles and seasons.  While some have rejected this spiritual tradition as being pantheistic, it actually affirms that the creation points to the Creator.

 

Those immersed in this tradition worked and lived and died deeply mindful of the presence of God and Christ and the Holy Spirit in all the ordinary moments experienced within the creation.  Newborn babies were touched with three drops of water at birth and seeds were planted in such a way as to remind the planter to respect the rhythms of the earth.  It was not a romantic idealistic easy way of life, but a hard one filled with all of life's harshness.  Yet, midst it all, the literature and rituals of this spiritual tradition pointed those who walked the land toward the Creator of the land.

 

The more we allow ourselves to be touched by a spiritual understanding which places such high value on the creation and the immediacy of the holy Presence, the more we begin to hunger for a stronger connection to the earth upon which we walk.  Somehow, the Celtic spiritual tradition goes far beyond recycling or not littering the landscape to a place where it is understood that not one of our footsteps is on something other than holy ground brought into being by the Creator.  Sometimes it seems that we get so busy we forget where we are.  Celtic spirituality has a way of reconnecting us and rooting us to the place where we are.