The Three in One

All my life I have been singing "All Creatures of my God and King,"  and never gave a thought to from whence it came.  No one told me.  I guess I should have known being a seminary graduate, but if someone told me along the way that it represented Celtic spirituality, I was asleep when they spoke.  There is nothing about its origin in the hymnal although it does tell us that it came from St. Francis.  Francis was, of course, influenced and shaped by the spirituality of Celtic community which was all around him.  It is his poem from 1225 which gave birth to this hymn of the church.    

Anyone who wants to know about Celtic spirituality can begin with this hymn.  It sounds so many of the ancient themes of this tradition.  There is a strong sense of connection between the Creator, the creatures, and the creation.  It is a hymn which teaches that God can be seen, experienced, and known through every part of the creation.  It is not a hymn teaching pantheism, but panentheism.  And in the last verse which is one not usually sung since it is verse 7, there is an affirmation of the reality of the Trinity.  "Praise, praise the Father, praise the Son, and praise the Spirit, Three in One."   Celtic spirituality is strongly Trinitarian.  In many places it seems the Trinity is so mysterious, it is better to simply dismiss it.    

Too many times I have sung this hymn without allowing myself to grasp what it is teaching me about God and His creative powers.  To take it and read its words slowly and with a heart bent on contemplation or reflection is a bit frightening for many because it challenges us to a different way of thinking and to a broader understanding of God and the world around us, Christ at work within us, and the Holy Spirit dwelling in our hearts.  Praise be to the Father for a man with eyes like Francis, praise be to the Son for a man with a heart like Francis, and praise be to the Spirit for a man with the mindfulness of Francis.  All praise be to the Three in One.  

The Rhythm of Life

In her book, "The Celtic Way of Prayer,"  Esther de Waal writes, "Today when I go into a supermarket and buy any of the fruits of the earth at any time of the year I need no longer be aware of the pattern of the earth bringing forth her fruits in due season.  Living with electricity, I can deny the night and extend my day entirely to suit my own self, my needs, and my interests.  I can forget the coming of the dark or the slow dawning of the lights; the pattern of the rising and setting of the sun, or the waxing and waning of the moon, are no longer really important."    

The author is not on a soapbox telling all of us to make our home in some wilderness place, or somewhere away from the crowded urban areas where so many live, but is instead speaking to a problem fundamental to our living and living well.  What she points toward is the way our life is out of rhythm.  We are creations of the Creator who also created the Creation.  The first chapter of Genesis underscores this basic reality about life.  We were in the beginning connected to the Creation in such a way as to be aware of its presence and power all around us.    

Things have changed.  We journey from one place to another, from one thing to another, and from one moment to the next in such a hurry and with minds so busy that we are often not even conscious of  the fact that we walk, breathe, and live within the creation God has put around us.  We pay no, or little attention, to what is being said to us through it about the way we must live if we are to live with the created rhythm.  When we get out of rhythm, we work too much, we take ourselves too seriously, and we start ignoring the things within us and outside of us which sustain our lives and the lives of those we love.  Messed up lives may be another way of talking about living out of rhythm with the God created Creation and its order.  

No Running in Church

Back in the day long ago when I was a mere boy, certain things were expected of children.  Many of us had mothers who sought to curb some of that energy by saying, "Children are to be seen, not heard," or "Clean out your plate, there are hungry children in the world," or "You say, 'yes sir', not yeah."   I remember, too, that there was a taboo against having fun in church.  On more than one occasion I heard it said, "Don't run in church and don't make so much noise."  I guess the adults in the rather quiet Methodist Church were afraid their children might grow up to be dancing and shouting Christians.   

Of course, it was not just a matter of curbing childhood energy, but teaching values.  Many of our parents regarded the church building as sacred space and, therefore, those inside of it acted with a kind of quiet respect and awe.  And while I never really cringed at the noisy exuberant children in church, I did often remember the words I heard when it had been my turn to be a child running up and down the aisle.  It is important to remember and recognize the places that are regarded as holy and this is simply what our parents were seeking to instill within us.    

As we remember, we know they were wrong.  It is not just the church building which is holy, but every part of the creation.  There is nothing unholy about what God has created.  This includes each of us as we are created with the imprint of God's hand on our life.   As amazing as is this truth, it is even more amazing what Paul wrote to the Corinthian Christians,   "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?  (I Corinthians 3:16)  The Word here and in other places teaches that there is holy space within us for there is that deep invisible part of our own spirit where God mysteriously dwells.  

Caw Caw

Usually they show up alone.  But, now and again a few will gather.  Once there were so many in the top of a single pecan tree, it seemed like some black noisy plague from the rod of Moses.  Though they are not a favorite bird around here, it does appear that the crow is here to stay.  The other day a couple caught my attention.  One crow went "caw caw" so I called it the two caw crow and every time that note was lifted from the branch of the tree where it was perched another crow in another tree sounded "caw caw-caw caw" so I named it the four caw crow.  I wondered what they were saying to one another.  It was obvious that there was some high in the air talking taking place.    

When God created the animals and put them in the creation with us, we were blessed.  While some are dangerous predators, each one is still a reflection of the incredible work of the Creator.  Most of us know more about dogs and cats than we do crows and hawks, but what we know is that animals bless our lives.  Each has a place in this ordered creation in which we live and each does its part in sustaining and giving life the creation.    

I think about this often at mealtime when beef is eaten at the table and I am reminded that the meat comes from a cow that once lived in our pasture.  Some might regard this kind of familiarity as offensive, but it has brought me to a new level of gratitude when I sit down to eat.  As the meal begins I remember that food is costly not just in a monetary sense, but it points to the death of an animal, the hard work of some unknown person way back up the food chain, and people who transport it and sell it so that we can live.  And at the end of a meal, it seems like a sin to throw away leftovers particularly when there was a time when I was in a first name relationship with the cow.     

The First Home

The Word tells us our first home was a garden.  The Garden of Eden was written on the sign at the gate.  It was the abiding place of the couple known as Adam and Eve, but more importantly, it is the first place noted as a place where God walked midst the creation of His hands.  It is, therefore, not only remembered as our first home, but also as a time when there was a perfect kind of relationship between us and the Father God who brought us into being and placed us this wonderful garden where everything was rightly connected to everything else.    

It has been a long time since we have been garden dwellers.  Since the days of Genesis, there has been this constant movement of the masses away from garden like places which provide solitude, silence, and an awareness of God moving in our midst.  It is also true that the movement is more about the spiritual part of our life than the geographical setting.  Though conceived and birthed with the essence of God within us, it took us only a short time to begin moving away from the source of that innate goodness to a life centered not upon the desires of God for us, but our own.    

This is the very thing which happened to the original garden dwellers and it still happens to each one of us.  To say we have forsaken home and our spiritual roots speaks of the movement we made on the road which takes us further and further from home.  Home is not just about place, but about the heart.  The road home puts us on the road to the restoration of our soul, it is about going with Him to wherever the road takes us, and finally coming to the moment of going back from whence we came which is, of course, to Him.  

Hearing the Holy Articulation

Like a lot of other folks I have never heard the Voice of God; yet, I also know He has spoken to me.  The boy Samuel heard the Voice of the Lord in the darkness of the night.  When I was a boy I was scared of sounds of the night and if I had heard a voice back then, I likely would have died of fright at an early age.  And though I have been in several thousand worship services, I missed the experience Isaiah wrote about when he said, "Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying..."   (Isaiah 6:8)   Then there was Moses who heard the Voice calling his name out of a fiery bush.  I am sure God knows my name, but I have never heard mine like Moses seemed to have heard his.    

It is still true, however, that I have heard the Voice of the Lord speaking to me.  I have come to understand that God is not only the Invisible One who reveals Himself, but also the Voiceless One who speaks to us.  These years around here meandering around the farm in the midst of Creation have cemented this truth in my reality.  There have been times in the practice of devotional life when I have set aside time to listen to what God might want to say.  After all, prayer is not some one way conversation street.  But, in these days of being in the Creation, I have found myself experiencing surprise after surprise at the way the One without a Voice has spoken to me.    

In the absence of a Voice requiring ears, He has been heard speaking words which have originated from within in the deep place of my soul where the Spirit seeks to do mysterious and holy work in my heart.  I have learned not to be surprised, but to understand that He brings to my conscious the things He has been stirring in my subconscious through the mixing of things like the reading of the Word, remembrances of teachings and influences from another time, experiences which He has given me, and the way He has created me and shaped me.  Out of this holy stirring comes a Voice not heard with ears, but with the heart.  And with those words come an assurance that they are His words as surely as Samuel, Isaiah, and Moses heard them long ago.  

Articulation of the Voice

We live within the Creation.  Our lives are dependent upon it.  We are connected to it as surely as we are born connected to our Mother.  Perhaps, the cord and the scar on our belly are reminders that we are a part of a whole and not the whole itself.  The Creation is all around us.  We may live as if it is something which can be ignored, but to ignore it is to live a diminished life.  The book of Genesis speaks of an irrevocable link between each one of us and the Creation in which we live.     

The Creation is not really understood by calling it Mother Nature.  It is a holy gift from God for each one of us to experience.  It is not some neutral part of the physical world, but a revelation of the presence of God.  And, what comes as a surprise to many is that the Creation is also an articulation of the Voice of God.  Moses heard the Voice of God in a fiery bush.  Amos was called from the quietness of an agricultural life to the life of a main street prophet.  The Word is full of notes about things like sowing seed, fig trees, sheep, rivers, and mountains.  Jesus saw these things in the Creation around Him and a Word stirred in His heart which found expression through His preaching and teaching.   

The Voice of God is still being spoken through the Creation around us.  It is not a Voice heard with the ears of birth, but with the inner senses and the inner spirit which is often the only part of us that is in tune with the voiceless words being spoken by the Creation.  While this may be a sensitivity with which we are born, it is one lost in the hurried and busy pace we live where all but the loudest sounds are drowned and not to be heard.  This means that for many of us hearing the divine articulation of the Creation may require some learning, some discipline, some praying, and allowing ourselves to enter into the silence until it enters into us.     

Manifestation of Presence

The journey from where I was to where I am took me from the desk to the tractor, from the pulpit to the farm, and from a life centered around the church as a building to a life centered around the cathedral of creation.   And once I made it to the fork in the road which carried me deeply into the woods and open countryside, I came to understand that the journey had not ended, but was still carrying me forward into a land in which I never expected to walk.  Living immersed in the creation each day has been like a baptism which has changed and re-directed my life.    

One of the things learned early on in surprising ways had to do with the sense that God was in the process of revealing Himself.  Ever so slowly I begin to understand that the creation is a manifestation of the presence of God.  As the poet wrote, "Earth is crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God,..."  (Elizabeth Barrett Browning).  Somehow those lines were imprinted on my mind back in high school lit days and have been carried along the journey until these days when they seem like words on the door opening up into the rest of my life.   

No longer am I surprised to encounter the presence of God through the most mundane of moments and things.  A bird floating in the high breezes, a broken about to decay limb on the ground, and the evening highlights on the western horizon all point to the reality that God is moving about this place and in my life.  The only thing required to see are the eyes I never used when I was hurrying, full of busy work, from one task to another.  Here life is slower.  It is more deliberate.  There is silence.  There is solitude.  There is an unmistakable sense of holy presence that calls out from every bush about to be set afire with the holiness of God.  

Questions

What does it mean to say that the creation is holy?  What does it mean to think of it as being filled from one end to the other with the essence of God, the Creator?  What does it mean to explore as reality the possibility that it bears the imprint of the Holy One as surely as the man and the woman created within it?  Many of us grew up reciting The Apostle's Creed which begins with the words, "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth..."  but it was mostly words and not something which caused us hours of wondering about this connection between the Creator and the Creation.   

What does it say about all that is around us if it truly is something that God has created?  Are the words an affirmation that all of creation, things seen and unseen, things that move and things that are fixed, and the things that are always in the process of changing have been touched and continue to be simply because the Creator, the maker of heaven and earth, has His hand upon it?  There are more than enough questions to keep us busy for some time, but the truth is we seldom really ask any of them, or give attention to exploring them.    

Of course, one of the essential questions which will inevitably rise in the midst of consideration or contemplation of this truth has to do with the way we are connected to the Creation, the way we are a part of it, and the way we live as one entrusted with the power of partnering with it to bring forth life as well as the responsibility of being one who lives with the power of dominion over it?  What does it mean when all of this which we touch is holy, bearing the imprint of the Creator?  The deeper we go into understanding who the Creator has created us to be midst the Creation of His hand, the more we realize that we have lived too long with a careless attitude which enables us to live with a take it for granted lifestyle.  

No Neutral Tone

The Creation does not cast a neutral tone on the cosmic canvas.  While it is something that is mainly not seen by so many, within it is the essence of where we live and breathe.  Not being aware of it as we live within it speaks not of what it is, but who we are.  What is more true than we want to admit is that we live at such a frenzied pace that we do not see the subtle shades and the vibrant colors of the Creation which is not apart from us, but a part of us.  

The fact that we take it for granted is something which surely borders on human arrogance and blatant sacrilege for the holy.    First and foremost the Word teaches us that the Creation is holy.  It bears the imprint of the Holy One.  It is not just the man and the woman of creation which is made with divine essence.  It is everything which is touched by the holy hand of the Creator.  The light that transcends all lights, the wind that comes from where we know not, the thundering waters of the sea that become gentle mist, the dirt which we are quick to wash from clean hands, the plants and the animals, as well as every thing which gives and sustains life is holy for it has first been touched by holy hands.    

Within this magnificent and ever changing creation is where we live.  It is our dwelling place.  It is a gift given to us by a kind and benevolent heavenly Father.  Our very life is a part of it.  From the moment of our creation to the moment of our final breath and beyond it gives shape to our life.  We could never be who we are apart from it.  We have walked too long with the ungrateful heart of one who takes for granted the invisible miracle that is out there at the edge of where what is invisible and visible can be seen.  May we finally allow the Spirit to give us eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to rejoice.  

The Change

Coming to the farm after a life of standing in the pulpit has been life changing.  There is no way I could have imagined eleven years ago the person I would find myself in the process of becoming.  I knew life in a rural area would be different than the urban area of the years of ministry, but I assumed it would be more about superficial external changes rather than internal core value changes.  The farm did not just provide a different environmental venue in which to live, but an ongoing experience of being overwhelmed by God's holy creation.    

It is one thing to take an afternoon hike through the country side and another to set out for a walk like the Appalachian Trail which will take six months.  It is one thing to walk on the edge of the shore where the white water foams at the completion of its journey and another to go out into the deep and jump into waters that have no edge.  It is one thing to move in and out of moments of experiencing creation and still another to be constantly immersed in its beauty, power, and unpredictability.    Being here has brought me into an awareness of the silence I often tried to manufacture and the solitude which I saw as worthy of pursuing is something which now comes to me.   

There is so little about the way the Holy One is experienced that was anticipated when the transition from there to here took place at the moment of leaving the  life of the confined spaces for the life of the open spaces.  I find myself deeply grateful for the blessings of holy awareness which have come and continue to come in what seems like such ordinary moments.  But, the truth is there is no ordinary moment.  There are no ordinary places.  There were times when it seemed that there were holy moments and not so holy moments, sacred places and secular places.  I now realize I was wrong.  Every place and every moment is holy.  Everything is a holy and precious treasure.  

The Two Calls

When we read the call stories of the Scripture, it seems that those called were already on board with a relationship with God.  Certainly, this is the case with Abraham, or Moses, or Isaiah.  None of those three were of the heathen, or pagan category.  Somewhere before the moment of calling came, they had decided for God.  It may be that way for most, but not for everyone.  When we come to the Damascus Road experience of Saul of Tarsus, it would seem that there was no space between him hearing the call to follow Jesus and to serve Him in a specific way.    

I remember that primordial spiritual experience of my faith journey.  I heard Jesus saying, "Follow me," and the call to  preach in such a sequential manner that there seemed to be no space between them.  In fact, I actually separated the two in the moment.  I said "Yes" to the call to follow Jesus, but "No" to he second part of the spiritual proposition being presented.  It would take nearly a half a year to come around to the second Word from God heard that night.  But, the fact is one was a part of the other.   

It should not surprise us that Christ's call to follow Him would be accompanied by a sense that He has something specific in mind for us to be about.  When Paul was overwhelmed by the power of Christ on the Damascus Road, it was not for him one or the other, but both.  As he got up from the ground and waited on Ananias, he surely must have come to know that the call to follow and the call to serve were inseparable.  In reality, the same is true for all of us.  He does not call us to follow Him so we can make a spiritual status statement, but because He has something in mind for us to do within the work of the Kingdom.  

Unfolding

One of the images which appears strongly in Celtic spirituality is the image of life unfolding.  What is up the road in our faith journey is not something which is always visible, but instead, is something which unfolds before us.  And neither does it unfold completely, all at one time, but partially as we go along.  When John spoke of Jesus calling disciples with the words, "Come and see,"  (John 1:39)  he invokes this image of things unfolding.     

It is never true that the way forward is seen all the way to the end when we begin our journey of faith.  Actually, the way forward paved with faith in Christ is only as clear as the next step and sometimes even that anticipated step causes us to hesitate because we are not sure about the firmness of the ground out there ahead of us.  The way Christ walks ahead of us is not laid out for us to see, but a way that unfolds before us giving us a view of only what is necessary and required for the moment.  

When Jesus said, "Come and see," those who heard and responded had no idea where the road was going.  And as we read their story in the gospel, it is clear that there is always the unknown and mysterious dimension out there ahead of them.  It always seems that they are out there on this road with Jesus, listening and learning, and trying to figure it out as they go.  Everything that happened in their lives did not happen in a predictable manner, but slowly unfolded before them.  And with each act of life unfolding before them, they were called to respond with faith for the rest of the  journey.  It still works that way for each one of us.  We follow Christ in faith as the road unfolds and takes us to know-not-where. 

Come and See

One of the interesting moments of calling comes in the first chapter of John's gospel as the writer speaks of two disciples of John the Baptist leaving the Baptist to go after Jesus.  When Jesus saw them, there is a brief conversation in which they ask, "Rabbi, where are you staying?" and He responds by saying, "Come and see."  (John 1:35-39)  The words "Come and see"  are not as direct as the "Follow me" voiced in other places.  It is word that carries with it a literal word about a place, but even more it speaks of an invitation to a journey not clearly defined.   

The word "come"  invites a would be disciple to come after Jesus, to go where He is walking, and to visibly identify with Him.  The word "see" serves as invitation to see what can obviously and clearly be seen with the eyes of birth, but also an invitation to see those things which belong to the invisible realm and which are not yet clearly seen.  So, the invitation is not just about a place to sleep.  It is also about choosing to go wherever.  It is an invitation to come to Jesus and see where it is that a life with Him will go.     

There is a sense of adventure about this word.  There is an even greater sense of mystery as we decide to go to know-not-where and experience the presence of Christ on the road which will open up the journey.  "Come and see" Jesus says.  "As we go together, we will see where the road takes us."  Such is the invitation to those early disciples and to us as well.  There is only one way to see the invisible things He will reveal to us along the way and that is in the choosing to come after Him.  

The One Thing

Not everyone who hears the call of Christ says "Yes."  Of course, some say, "No" but later change their "No" to "Yes," but there are also those who say "No" and stick with it.  Matthew, the gospel writer, tells us about such a person as he writes about the encounter of the rich young man and Jesus.  By all accounts he would have made a good church member, one a preacher would be eager to add to the rolls.  He not only knew all the commandments, but saw himself as one who kept them.  He also had a load of money some of which could go in the church coffers.  I remember a few visitors at church who caused some of my budget driven members to remind me to make a visit.     

The rich young ruler was this kind of guy.  Instead of making it easy for him to join the disciples, Jesus said, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor,and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."  (Matthew 19:21)  We know how that story ended.  The young man had much and he went away with regret because it was more important to him than becoming a follower of Jesus.  He no doubt was a candidate for discipleship who had great potential, but he would not pay the price required of him by the One who he thought he wanted to follow.      

Too many times we start out the journey of faith intent on not being too inconvenienced or changed by our new faith.  Oh, we say in those beginning moments that we surrender everything to Christ, but the truth points to another reality.  Some of us may hang on to the right to be in charge of determining a level of generosity.  Others may decide to go with Jesus while holding tightly to a broken relationship filled with anger and an unforgiving spirit.  And, of course, there are those who start out assuming that being in charge is what Christ will allow them to do.  The "one thing" may have a different name for each one of us, but it is something which must finally be left somewhere on the side of the road, or our obedience will always be something less than perfect and mostly compromised. 

Plod on Pilgrim

Tax collectors were not held in high regard by the people of Jesus' day.  There was too much opportunity to take more than law allowed.   If people questioned the wisdom of Jesus  calling Matthew, the tax collector, to be one of His disciples, it would be understandable.  More than one time Jesus was criticized for spending time with tax collectors and sinners.  But, of course, He did not just spend time with them, He called one to be a part of His intimate circle of twelve.    

The ninth chapter of Matthew records this calling moment of the author of gospel which bears his name.   "Jesus...saw a man called Matthew...and He said to him, 'Follow me."  And he got up and followed him."  (Matthew 9:9)    It does not seem like a moment filled with debate on the part of the tax collector.  The language of his response speaks of a man who quickly made a decision to put aside what gave him security for a life empty of anything which would remind him of those days of plenty.  He moved from one lifestyle to another without hardly pausing for a breath of reflection and thought.  Jesus called, and like Abram, he got up and went even though he knew not where it was that he was going.    

Too many times we come to that moment of hearing Jesus speaking to us about a different way to live with a calculating spirit instead of an abandoning spirit.  Even though the Word warns us about the danger in counting the cost, there is within us in that moment of beginning thoughts about the cost of going.  We want God to be logical, practical, and Someone who shows good old fashioned common sense, but instead we soon find out as we walk for a spell with Him that He is unpredictable, full of surprises, and not afraid to lead us into danger.  It is no wonder that many of those who are called decide on another road after they have gone not too far down the road.  Plod on pilgrim.  Stay on the road.  Follow Him.  The road takes us Home.  

Follow Me

Early in His ministry, Jesus called men to be His disciples by saying, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people."  (Matthew 4:19)  Of course, He was calling two men who were tending their nets as fishermen.  The words "Follow me"  are calling words.  They are words without the specifics of where, or how long.  Moses was called to free the Hebrews, the prophets were called to the work of an exiled people, but the call of the disciples is more akin to the non-specific call of Abram who was called simply to "Go...to the land that I will show you."  (Genesis 12:1)  The gospel writer John records calling words very much like those Abram heard when he remembered Jesus calling by saying, "Come and see."  (John 1:39)       

The disciples no doubt had their own notions, as do we all, about what it meant to respond to the calling words of Jesus.  But, Jesus does not tell them at this point that following Him means going to the cross to watch Him die.  Neither does He tell them the road they are choosing to travel will lead to a martyr's death.  Would they have gone had He told them?  Would we have decided a long time ago to follow Jesus if we could have seen where it was going to take us?  Would we choose the hard way of forgiving others instead of getting even, the narrow way of love that puts self aside, the life of no guarantees for our goodness?    

The one thing the old follower of Jesus will proclaim is that the call to follow leads to some surprising, strange, and unexpected places.  It puts us in some situations and circumstances we never would choose.  It takes us where we knew not where we were going.  Responding to the call of God is about going with a waiting spirit to see where it is that He wants to take us.  And, then going with nothing but our faith and an assurance of His grace

The Visible

When we turn from the pages of the writings of Moses, the prophets, and wisdom writers, we find ourselves in the different world of the Gospels.  Everything is different.  Oh, it is still true that people are still being called to holy work, but the means of the calling is drastically different.  No one is being called through a bush, or by a voice, but by the Visible One come to live among us.  In the Old Testament it is the calling of the Invisible One that is heard, but in the Gospels it is the call of the Visible One, the One who has a face and lives among us.   

Who among us can imagine what it must have been like to look into the eyes of Christ, or to have our ears hearing His voice, or actually experiencing the feel of His hand upon our shoulder?  Who among us can imagine a moment of seeing what could not possibly be seen, or of looking into the face of the One whose face demands our turning away from it, or of knowing that the body next to us is the very body of Christ present in our midst?   Always the spoken holy word had come from the realm of the invisible, but all that changed in a moment when Jesus breathed that first breath in Bethlehem.  

As He walked the roads of Galilee and encountered soul after soul and spoke those words of calling, those words that invited following, no one had to look for the One whose voice was heard.  The Invisible had become the Visible.  And for a moment no bush, no lightning and thunder, no earthquake, no smoke and fire, no prophet, and no Temple was needed to hear the Voice of the One who called.  The One who called was there in the flesh among them and everything was suddenly different and unlike it had ever been.    

More Than A Fish Story

Tucked away in the pages of the minor prophets is the story of Jonah.  Some say it is a fish story with an unusual twist, but it is also a story about the calling of God.  The first and foremost truth in the story is that God called Jonah.  The very first word of the text says, "Go at once to Nineveh..."  (Jonah 1:1)  Unlike Moses who pushed God to the point of angering God and then backing way, Jonah pushed God to the point of regret.  When God said "Go," Jonah said, "No."  When God said "Go east," Jonah went "west," and when God said, "Rent a camel," Jonah bought a ticket for a cruise.    

What is obvious is that Jonah wanted no part of what God wanted him to do.  Oh, he finally came around to the bidding of God, but it was with the greatest amount of reluctance.  Jonah's reluctance mattered not to God who used him anyway to bring a great revival to an ungodly city.  And even after his preaching was so successful, Jonah remained wrapped up in himself.  He did not want to be a part of the salvation of Nineveh.  (Jonah 4:1-2)  He would have rather died than to see one soul from Nineveh come to God.    

It seems like an impossible scenario.  Who would not want good things to come to everyone?  The answer is obvious.  There have been times for all of us when we would not choose the good things of God for a particular person. If they needed a message of love and forgiveness, it would have to come from someone else for our anger and resentment had too great a hold on us to turn it loose.  If such an impossible thing sounds possible, it may be because we have looked in the mirror a time or two and seen ourselves as someone who really did not desire good things for some person who we felt was unworthy of our forgiveness and, perhaps, even God's.  Maybe we should look in that mirror from time to time, but do so carefully.  It may finally become necessary to go.

The Many Ways

When I was just before turning into a high school graduate, I heard a visiting preacher say in his sermon, "If you see a need around you and think you can do something about that need and do nothing, you may be ignoring the call of God on your life."  After returning to the parsonage and while kneeling beside my  bed, i realized those words which got stuck in my heart and mind was a call to preach.  It was something I tried for the better part of that year to get out from under, but no matter how I rationalized what I heard, the call to preach remained.     

Not every preacher hears the call to preach in the manner of some of these Biblical giants.  Abram heard a voice as did  Samuel.  Moses was called through a burning bush.  Isaiah heard his call midst a glorious moment of worship.  Jeremiah heard a word while a boy and Ezekiel seems to be one of those who grew up without ever questioning that He was to serve God.   Unlike these and more like some of us was Esther.  In a moment of great danger for her people, she heard Mordecai challenging her complacency by speaking those memorable words, "Who knows?  Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for such a time as this."  (Esther 4:14)  They were words from which Esther could not escape and so she made the decision to act on these words of calling that came through the man, Mordecai.     

Sometimes the call is missed and sometimes preachers go through their ministry wondering about the validity of their call.  It is likely that in the beginning years of our faith journey, we are not disciplined enough to hear the many ways the voice of God can be spoken.  We often think that our call needs to somehow be like another we know and admire.  The truth is that there is nothing in the creation which is beyond God's ability to use when He desires to speak to us.  And it may also be true for some that the inability to consciously hear is overcome by the Word of God being spoken in a way that is heard by the inner person God is shaping through the power of the Holy Spirit.   

The Big Squeeze

There may not be as many pages in the book of Amos as there are in Isaiah, or Jeremiah, or Ezekiel, but his voice thunders across the the centuries with reverberating power.  Unlike the Big Three, Amos was a second career spiritual leader and prophet.  In the seventh chapter of the book bearing his name, we hear him saying, "I am no prophet, nor a prophet's son; but I am a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore trees, and the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, 'Go, prophecy to my people Israel.' " (Amos 7:14-15)    

Not all of us start out with a sense of being called, either to ministry or to some specific act of ministry.  Like Amos we do not carry a credentialing card, or have a wall full of divinity degrees.  We are not into the role of spiritual leadership.  Some may count it important to have some certifying papers for service, but God does not.  Amos was into agriculture and content with it when God called him out of the quietness of that calling into the noisy world of religious systems gone awry.  It surely must have been a difficult transition for him to make.   

The good news in the story of the calling of Amos is that God calls us when we figure we are way past such a thing happening.  We never get to a place where what we can do for Him has no value.  This is true not because we remain so sharp, or have become more spiritual, but because He has put in us from conception something which is valuable and important to the Kingdom.  Before we make it Home, it is surely His intention to squeeze it all out.

The Long Plan

As we read the book of Ezekiel, it almost seems that Ezekiel went to sleep in Jerusalem and woke up the next morning "among the exiles by the river Chebar...in the land of the Chaldeans..."  (Ezekiel 1:1, 3).  To get into the writing makes it a plausible explanation, but it is also likely that he traveled with those exiles along that difficult road and one day he found himself there with them.   Perhaps, how he got there is not as important as being there.  While he is regarded as a major prophet in Israel's history, there is no moment of calling as in the case with Isaiah and Jeremiah.    

What is put out there for us to see is the way God re-directed this man's ministry in a time of great difficulty.  Ezekiel had spent his life preparing for service in the Temple of Jerusalem.  The first verse reference to the thirtieth year speaks of him coming to an age where the preparation or apprenticeship was past and he was ready to step into leadership as a properly credentialed priest.  Throughout all those years he had seen his future as one working among the holy stuff of the Temple and serving God in that place so special in Israel's life.  Suddenly all that changed.  As Ezekiel appears by the river Chebar, he is no longer a priest, but a prophet.  He is away from smelling the incense of the Temple to a place filled with the smell of the earth and an exiled people.    

Most of us go kicking and screaming when God begins to change the circumstances of our service to Him.  It is not easy for us to turn lose of our dreams of how God is going to use us for the reality of how He wants to use us.  Our dreams do not always match His purposes.  And, what is also true is that while His purposes may seem to be changing as the years go along, those purposes have always been in place.  They have only been invisible to us as we live out the present moment of our life.  Instead of struggling against the new God is leading us toward, it makes more sense to live with the faith and the grace that has taken us thus far.  God's plan is always greater and longer than we can see as we look ahead.

The Hard Way

It could be said with certainty that the call of God is different for every person who hears it and dares to go.  When we come to the call of Jeremiah, we hear a God who hardly gives Jeremiah a moment to respond.  And, of course, another thing to consider is that the prophet perceived himself as one who had not yet reached his manhood which meant he figured no one would be listening to him.  When he heard the voice of God, Jeremiah said, "Ah, Lord God!  Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy."  (Jeremiah 1:6)   But, as in the case of others who had stood in similar moments, the Lord God would have nothing to do with the excuse Jeremiah offered.     

One of the unique things about the calling moment of Jeremiah is the way God proclaimed that Jeremiah was known by His creator before he was formed in the womb, consecrated in the darkness, and appointed to be a prophet before he was born.  (Jeremiah 1:5)  With such a Word heavy upon him, Jeremiah surely felt as if his future as one one who would serve God had been decided.  But, as is the case with everyone who hears the call of God, it was still up to Jeremiah to go and do God's bidding.    

As we get into the life of Jeremiah as it is revealed in the book which bears his name, we come to understand that it was a hard life for the prophet.  He was not liked.  No one wanted to hear his message.  There were times when the whole experience seemed more than he could stand.  Yet, Jeremiah continued to speak the word no one wanted to hear.  Many a preacher of our own day would benefit from studying the life of this prophet.  Like Jeremiah every preacher wants to be liked and applauded for their words, but such is not the goal for which the one called is called to seek.  The call is not a call to be popular, but a call to be faithful to the One who called and faithful to the task set out there in the road.  Being liked may be something desired, but it has nothing to do with what God is about when He does the calling.  

Responding to the Call

Abraham heard the calling voice of God in a land not promised, Moses out next to the wilderness, Samuel in the darkness of the night, and Isaiah in the midst of worship in the Temple.  Each place became the epicenter of an spiritual soul shaking which rocked the world of the One to whom God spoke.  Reality declares it can be no other way.  Even if these ancient men of faith had not responded in a positive way, their lives would have always been different from an experience of denying the call of God on their lives.  Saying "no" has a different impact than saying "yes," but it has its impact, nonetheless.    

The most memorable encounter with the call of  God that resulted in walking away is with Jesus and the rich young man.  When Jesus told him what was involved in becoming a follower, this would-be-disciple walked away.  Matthew records the moment with the words, "When the young man heard this word, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions."  (Matthew 1(22)    He was obviously one who could have made a difference in the work of the Kingdom, but in the  moment of the calling he judged something else to have such a hold it could not be let go.   

Every now and again we run into someone who carries with them the spirit of this young man.  To listen to the conversations of those who look back remembering a call not heeded is to hear a wistful longing and a heart of regret.  While they chose a different road and life has been good, there often seems to be moments of wondering about what might have been.  When God puts His call on our life, it is often a like a window that opens for a moment and then the opportunity passes.  And even though such might be a part of our memory, it is always important to remember that God does not judge us to be of no use to the Kingdom, but will once again come to us with a voice that calls us to some new act of faith and service.  

Here Am I

"In the year that King Uzziah died,,,"  Isaiah "saw the Lord on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of His robe filled the Temple."  (Isaiah 6:1)  It was also the year Isaiah's life changed.  Prior to that moment, he was a priest in the Temple.  He did Temple stuff.  He handled the holy stuff that pointed people toward the presence of God.  But, after that moment came and went, he was no longer a priest, but a prophet.  His world centered not midst the holy stuff of the Temple,  but out midst the noisy city and hard countryside where men and women lived and sweated and died.   Instead of offering sacrifices which caused those present to feel better, he became a preacher who spoke words that threatened the comfort zone of all who heard.   

When the vision of that day was about gone, the Lord spoke asking, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?"  So caught up in God's glory was he that he dared to say, "Here am I, send me."  (Isaiah 6:8)  It was a word not so different than the word Moses heard when God spoke from the burning bush, but in Isaiah there was no hesitation, no hunting an excuse not to go, only a willingness to do the bidding of the Almighty.  And even as Moses was called to engage the brokenness of the world, so was Isaiah called to walk midst a broken and rebellious people.     

When God calls us to service it is always to a world that is in need of His Word, His presence, and His grace.  And, the world which He calls us to engage may not be as big as the world of injustice He set before Moses, or as big as the world of a nation bent on ignoring God, but on a smaller world where people we know are engaged in relationships that are impoverished by a lack of the spirit of Jesus. To hear the call of God to go is to know that He has something specific in view that needs a touch of His love and grace.  And when He shows us the brokenness, we must then decide if we will follow the example of Isaiah and say, "Here am I, send me." 

A Voice Spoken

It was in the darkness of the night that the young boy named Samuel heard a voice.  Had he not thought the voice was the voice of Eli, the priest who slept in the next room, he likely would have been scared beyond words.  As it was the young boy went to Eli to see what it was that the priest needed of him.  After Eli's sleep was disturbed the third time by this boy standing at his bed, the priest realized the Lord was speaking and told Samuel what to do.  "Go, lie down; and if He calls you, you shall say, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening."  (I Samuel 3:9)  Samuel did as he was told and the Lord spoke once again to him.  

We do not hear the Voice when it is speaking.  Like Samuel it is something we are not expecting.  When it does happen, we are quick to find another explanation.  After all, the thought which came to our mind from out of nowhere was likely planted there sometime in the past and simply triggered to remembrance by some circumstance.  To think that God could be speaking to us through something or someone is beyond the scope of what is logical and believable.   

Of course, the Word, including this story of Samuel, tells a different thing.  And, the witness of more people than we can count who have lived before us and around us also affirm that God did not go silent when history closed the book on Biblical history.  Everything around us poinst to God's voice still being spoken, and if it is spoken, it can be heard by those of us who believe and who have disciplined inner ears to hear what cannot be heard with the ears of birth. 

The Divine Engineer

Moses was a Hebrew.  He was always a Hebrew even though he grew up as an Egyptian.  Through an unusual set of divinely engineered circumstances, the baby Moses avoided death as an infant at the hands of Pharaoh.  His mother who raised him surely told him the story of his deliverance as well as the story of her love for God.  Thus, Moses grew to manhood with feet in two worlds.  One was in the world of his own people, the Hebrews, and the other was in the world of Pharaoh's Egyptian culture.  The inner confusion and wrestling with who he was came to a head that day when he killed the Egyptian and buried him in the sand. (Exodus 2:12)    

When Moses arrived some years later at the burning bush, he was a man who had been uniquely shaped by two conflicting cultures, his mother's faith, and the Egyptian religion.  By his actions it would seem that  he must have also been one who recognized the injustice of the society in which he had lived and one who knew himself as one of the privileged.  Moses was not an empty shell when God spoke to him from the bush that burned but was not consumed, but one whose life had brought him to the moment God was about to unfold before him.    

It is no different with us.  When we sense God is calling us to be about something, no matter how great or small it may seem, we may decide in the moment of the calling that what God is asking of us is either impossible or not logical.  We may believe, and in some cases rightly so, that someone else could get it done better.  But, none of these things concern God as He calls our name.  He is the One who calls us to service and before He calls, He prepares and equips us for what in on His heart for us.  It is our faith in Him, our life experience, and most importantly His call which can turn something impossible into the possible.  After the call, all that is left is the choosing to go.  

The First Act

One of the most memorable calling stories of the Bible is inside the Moses narrative.  After Moses kills an Egyptian soldier, he flees to the wilderness for safety.  He meets a girl, goes to work for his father-in-law, and settles into a life filled with the routines of being a husband and a shepherd.  But, there is this talk about a bush burning that is not consumed and so he goes to take a look.  It is there a barefoot shepherd encounters the Holy One who calls him to return to Egypt to free the Hebrews from slavery.  

Moses wants no part of what he is hearing.   One excuse after another is offered to the Lord.  It is obvious to Moses that God has made a mistake in calling him.  But, God is relentless. God sees in Moses what Moses cannot see in himself.  At the burning bush Moses came to the purpose that he was set out to accomplish when his mother floated him down the Nile River to safety.   It is only when Moses finds himself standing before the anger of God that he decides it might be better to take his chances with Pharaoh.  (Exodus 3-4)    

Moses is not the first person to say "No, get someone else," when God speaks.  Many who hear that call know that there must surely be someone else who can better serve God, but God looks not for someone who figures they have it altogether and can accomplish anything.  Instead, He looks for those who will come to understand the supreme importance of dependence on Him to get it done.  The self-sufficient are poor risks when it comes to the mission of God.  What is always true is that God sees something in us we cannot see in ourselves which may speak to the first act of trust in the process of deciding to go.

Abandonment

Abraham is the spiritual prototype for any soul traveling from here to there, any pilgrim who sets out from the land of the familiar, and any one who understands the spiritual life as a journey to "know not where."  When this ancient Hebrew patriarch heard the call of God, "Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you..."  (Genesis 12:1), he did not ask "Where is this land?" or "Tell me more."  Instead he simply laid it all down and went.  No questions.  No reservations.  In that moment of going, he modeled what it means to be abandoned to God.     

Abandonment is a word that gets thrown around a lot by the spiritual seekers.  Perhaps, it is more the language of the past than an expression of the current vernacular, but it is a powerful word for any who hear the call of God and seek to live after it.  What is easy is to count the visible and obvious things as the things being abandoned for God.  Giving up a bad habit or two may be more an act of self improvement than an act that has overtones of abandonment for God.    

The truth is most of us would rather abandon for God the things we can see rather than the ungodly things which lurk in our hearts.  Are we ready to abandon any right to carry a grudge?  Are we prepared to abandon our personal pleasure in passing judgement upon others?  Are we ready to abandon an ego that is always right?  Is there some part of us, some attitude, some thought toward another person that we are not yet ready to lay down?  As we go to the inner places where such issues and questions must be pondered, we enter into the realm where the hard work of abandonment for God is done.  It is a place and a work many of us would rather avoid.  

The Great Sojourner

The great sojourner heard the Lord say, "Go from your country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you..."  (Genesis 12:1)  There is no doubt that Abram, as he was known in this moment of calling, had a lot to lose.  Everything which spoke of the familiar, everything which spoke of his past, and everything around which he had built his life was now suddenly to be forsaken.  This word of calling seems to have come in a moment of loss and grief as previous verses record the death of Abram's father so it is likely that his life felt like one without a center.    

In such a moment the Lord who had been watching the life of Abram made Himself known in a way that took him away from all that could have been seen as the mooring of his life.  The call was to go to "the land that I will show you..."  There was nothing about it that was specific.  It was wide open, a journey without an ending.  There was a promise of blessing, but what is out there as a  possibility in the future must have been overshadowed by the reality of what fills the present moment.  Security filled the present moment and to do what the Lord was saying to do would empty his life of any sense of security.     

We know Abram's response.  "So Abram went, as the Lord told him..."   (Genesis 12:4)   The response seems so very straightforward and simple.  Perhaps, it was.  Perhaps, the call was something which spoke to what was growing in his heart.  No matter how we find ourselves seeing the moment of saying "Yes,' it was a moment of acting in faith.   When faith is embraced, it always requires abandonment, risking, and trusting God with both the big picture as well as the details of our life.  And, it also means living in the present without the knowledge of either.

Everything Depends on Everything

I saw my first pink peach blossom of the year today.   And, of course, a closer look revealed a peach tree on the threshold of budding.   I wonder if it is too early.  If the peach tree blooms and freezing weather comes, the peach crop is in danger.  The peach tree thrives on just the right balance of cold and not so cold.  It, like other fruit trees, requires a certain number of what the experts call chill hours, but if this chill become freezing,  there may be no peaches.  As I looked at that first single peach blossom, it occurred to me that everything depends on everything.   

The creation brought into being by our Creator God proclaims this message in many ways.  The Genesis record speaks of an ordered, precise, one step after another, creation process and what we are really only beginning to grasp is the way everything is connected to everything and when any part of the creation is disrupted, or out of sync, the whole is affected.   This should say something to us about the way we choose to live.  What is true for the peach tree growing toward making peaches is true for the people who tend them and the people who enjoy eating its fruit.  

We cannot grow toward the fullness of our life without this dependency on everything.  Not even the hermit who lives in a hut in the wilderness lives outside this circle of dependency.  Our homes are constructed from some kind of building material, what we do and how we live is dependent on the weather, and to sit at the table for a meal is a reminder of our dependency on everything.   And at a not so visible way, we are affected by the attitudes we carry, the grudges we bear, and the gratitude we express toward our Heavenly Father for His continued goodness.  Everything depends on everything and this includes each one of us.