Thank You

For the seventh year I have been able to post over three hundred blogs in a calendar year.  Every now and again some reader will wonder how it is that I am able to write something almost every day.  I must admit that there are moments when I feel like I am ready to quit, but then when the next day comes, I find myself here at the keyboard putting another word together.  When I started writing the blog back in 2008, I never planned for it to be a daily thing.  I did five or six a month and thought that was more than enough.  I am not sure how I got from there to here, but here I am, nonetheless.   

There are several things which have kept me coming here to write.  First, it has become my ministry.  Ministry has defined me since my ordination back in 1971.  A few years ago (2015) I had to give up the preaching ministry.  In retrospect I have never been sure whether I gave  it up, or it was taken from me by the One who called me to do it.  I mostly think it was taken and in its place I was led to begin this writing ministry.  In every place I served except for one, I have written weekly devotionals for newspapers so the writing ministry has been with me longer than any part of my ministry. Secondly, I have come to understand that these daily blog postings reflect the way the Holy Spirit is working in my life and enabling me to accomplish something I could not do alone.    

The third and final thing which has kept me going are the many people who read these blogs.  Many have been the times that I thought it was time to stop when someone spoke a word of encouragement to me, or told me how a particular blog had touched their life.  When I have been tempted to quit, I mostly think of the faces of some of those I know as faithful readers and then I come back to the keyboard to write one more.  All of you who read these ramblings of mine keep me going and I want to end 2023 by letting you know that you who read are as much a part of this blog as any writing I might do.  Thank you.  Thank you very much. 

The Gift

We all tend to do a little looking back at this time of the year.  We count the milestones toward moving forward with our life and we sadly remember the moments which seemed filled with the kind of stuff which is overcoming.  Somehow we made it to what is near about the end of another year.  And as we look back at the whole thing, we know being here is about what it has always been and that is grace.  God's grace is surely the reason we are here on this earth with our famiies and with a measure of good health.    

There is, perhaps, no religious word which gets tossed around so casually as the word grace.  We sing "Amazing Grace" without realizing how amazing it really is for each of us.  Grace is not about what we have earned through our efforts, or through our educational achievements, but something which can only be rightly understood as a gift.  Grace is always all about what we do not deserve.  It is all about God's gift to us.  If we live, it is because  of grace.  If we die and enter our eternal home, it is because of grace.  Life is about grace.    

The bottom line is that the life we live is ours because of God's gifting spirit.  From the moment of our conception in the darkness of the womb until our eyes are opened to see the glory of heaven, we are being gifted by Him.  When the dark clouds of difficulty are hanging heavy in our life, it is hard to see that life is a gift of God's grace, but it remains true.  We are as dependent on God's grace as we are the air we breathe.  Actually, we are more dependent on grace for air is only good for this life and it is grace that sustains us here and will be sufficient to get us Home.  

A Time for Praying

A phone call a couple of days ago sent me to the local cemetery yesterday morning to meet a family who needed a gravesite to bury a loved one.  Some six or seven years ago I volunteered to serve as the caretaker for the local cemetery which is actually owned by the local Baptist and United Methodist Churches.  What that means is that I make sure the maintenance gets done and that gravesites are sold as needed.  It is a job my father-in-law did some twenty years ago and one which gives me an opportunity to serve folks in a time of need.   

After I concluded the business part of the conversation yesterday, I asked the widow and her two sons if I could pray with them before we headed for the warmth of our vehicles.  No one has yet to say "No" to my offering prayer so it gives me an opportunity to point us to the presence of God in a difficult and dark time.  The gravesites require a check, but the prayer is freely given.    When I first started the volunteer job as caretaker, I did not think of the opportunity to pray with those who came, but as the years went along, it became a natural thing to do.  

There are many opportunities given to us through the course of our daily life to pray for those whose lives intersect with us.  Simply saying something like "You are in my thoughts and prayers" sounds a little weak when we could actually take a moment and pray.  I have a friend who when asked to pray always prays for those who ask, but he does it right then even though they may be standing in one of the crowded corners of the marketplace.  It is something we can all do.  It makes a difference.  I know.  I have been one of those who has stood in the presence of someone who dared to pray for me in an unexpected place.  The Word tells us to pray for one another.  Maybe it should also say, "wherever and whenever you find someone who needs the praying."

Old and Worn Out

A late afternoon tractor trip to the pasture with a bale of hay created a moment for seeing the pecan trees which line one side of the domain of the cows.  Oh, I have seen those trees a thousand times, picked up several thousand fallen limbs from under the spreading canopies, and even been blessed with harvesting some pecans every now and again.  In the Spring life stirs among them as green buds start to appear, by summer the trees are full of green leaves and crop of nuts has set.  Then comes the season of falling leaves and dropping pecans which finally leaves the trees as they are today, barren skeletons stretching upward in the sky against a fading gray sky.    

When compared to the other seasons, this day's view might seem to be a bit drab, but it was a kind of beauty that was spellbinding and encouraged me to sit idle on the tractor for a few moments as the picture of creation faded into darkness.  I love what God does with worn out trees that have run their course and show more sign of being spent than useful.  I love the barrenness of the outstretched limbs.  Everything about the afternoon picture seemed empty of life, but there is something in the soil, there is something within the tree, there is something stirring in deep invisible places that is full of mystery.  

Those old worn out trees which are in some cases a hundred years old may look spent and used up, but one day a power will take hold of them to bring forth new life, new foliage, a new crop, and new hope. I am grateful for what God does with these old worn out trees and grateful, too, to know that as He makes the old trees useful so does He make you and me.  

The Last Promise

Some years are harder than others.  As this one comes to the end of its journey, each one of us probably looks behind to see some times we would never have chosen and some that came as delightful surprises.  Such is the nature of life.  It always has been.  We tend to let the hard times overshadow everything else so that the sunny days seemed like they never happened.  These recent gray rainy days remind us that even when the sun cannot be seen, it is still present.    

When the hard difficult moments come with too much regularity, it is good to be reminded that joy and laughter and even dancing are only a day away.  As surely as the sun is not always seen, but always present, so it is with the goodness in our life.  Goodness is always present because God is always present in our life.  There have certainly been times for us in recent days when He seemed absent, but deep in the inner places of our heart, we know He has never been absent.  

It may have been harder in this past year for us to be aware of Him and His goodness, but the Word tells us very clearly that He is with us.  According to Matthew, His last promise to us was, "And remember, I am with you always... (Matthew 28:20}  It is His Word, not mine.  You can count on it even in the hardest of days.

A Slow Journey

Maybe I make too big a deal about getting a new Bible.  It is, after all, just another book, or just another Bible and I have quite a collection of them.  Most of those that fall under the category of "others" have served the purpose of being study Bibles. My new Christmas gift Bible is certainly a replacement Bible for one that is worn out so being the one who does too much thinking about the least of things, I have been pondering how to baptize it into daily use.  

What might seem obvious to most came to me late in the day after a spell of pondering.  I decided to start at the book of Beginning and read to the book that brings the inspired Word to its ending.  It has been some years since I did a through read with the Word.  Do not be looking for a report that the read is finished anytime soon.  I have decided to make this a slow journey.  

When I came to the farm thirteen years ago, the Lord gave me two words one afternoon as I was on my knees pulling weeds from the tomato plants.  "Pay Attention,"  is what He said and what I heard.  It has been a Word that has served me well as I have lived midst the Creation.  As I walk into this new year with a very old Word held together by a new cover, I will move slowly and I pray God will reveal Himself and speak clearly His Word as I "pay attention" to the unread and unmarked pages which tell His story.

A Gift of the Word

Back in 1990 I bought two Bibles just alike.  Well, almost.  One was black and one was blue. When I retired twenty years later the black one was well worn, falling apart, and in need of replacement.  So, I put the blue one into service.  It is starting to look like the retired black one. Someone noticed and bought me a new Bible for a Christmas gift.  This new one is much nicer than the ones I bought.  It has a  leather soft cover and is a large print edition.  I guess that says something about the eyes of the reader!  

So what do you do with a new Bible, one that has no ink markings, no coffee stains, and no torn pages?  Of course, the obvious answer is to read it.  Reading a new Bible will be a different read as I will not be influenced by underlined verses and words written in the margins.  Maybe what it affords me is an opportunity to read the Word again with new eyes, a different set of experiences through which to filter the reading, and a fresh anticipation for hearing the Word of God speak through the new large print edition.   

It makes me remember my first Bible.  It came to me when I was a child.  It was a King James Version with a zipper that ran around the black cover.  It also brings to mind the first Bible I read after becoming a Christian.  It was a Phillips translation of the New Testament given to me as a gift by my Dad when I left for college.  There have been many Bibles in my life.  Each one has been the Word of God which guided the journey.  I am grateful for a new one which will launch me on still another adventure with the Word of the Lord.

Christmas Eve, 2023

And just like that another Christmas Eve has come.  The music.  The ancient story.  The candles burning.  The memories of days past.  'Tis a day of rejoicing and at times a season of sadness as loved ones from our past are known only in our memories.  When Jesus was born long centuries ago, He came via a family.  A mother, a father, grandparents, and later brothers and sisters.  His life, too, was filled with religious traditions of great importance.  And surely, on those most revered days of that Jewish culture, He looked around rejoicing and remembering even as we do.   

There was a moment only yesterday as my family came together for our annual Christmas meal and celebration when the joy was broken into by a moment of deep sadness. It was so deep tears flowed and the laughter ceased.  However, instead of feeling strange, it felt normal.  In a moment the one not present was honored and remembered only to be swallowed up by the joy and laughter across the room.   It was a reminder that sadness and joy do not have to be compartmentalized.  They are both a part of our life and the story of our family.  

The tears point to our loss and the joy speaks to the way memories still bring joy into our lives.  Sometimes it is hard to know where the weeping stops and the laughter begins.  Or, vice versa.  The point is we need not be afraid of either as we gather with our families for moments of celebration for joy and laughter, grief and dancing, are but what God had in mind when He created us to live as families who dare to love one another. 

The Stones

Finally, they arrived.  Stones on the back of a truck.  Stones that were cut from bigger stones.  Silent stones that spoke the words of a story.  Like someone waiting midst an Advent vigil, I had waited.  One month, then two.  More came until they numbered eight and then the truck came carrying the stones.  When it seemed like it would never happen, a call came saying the day had come, and then all the waiting and anticipating was done.   

Standing there seeing those stones for the first time was a moment of relief that everything was finally done, but also a moment of overwhelming sadness that life's journey had brought me to such a place.  As a seven year old boy whose father went to work one day not to return, I have learned about grief.  There is a sense in which I have lived with it all my life.  Maybe we all do after that first moment of saying good bye.  No matter how well we manage to go on living living after loss, grief never goes completely away.  It hangs around in the heart and in some "out of the blue" moment, it comes back into the present opening a storehouse of memories and sometimes releasing a torrent of tears.  

Perhaps, this sudden surprising moment of grief reminds us that we are no longer living with a grief that is so dark it directs our every thought and move.  The Word of God says, "Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning."  (Psalm 30:5)  A  verse a little later in that same chapter speaks of God turning our grief into dancing and being given the garment of joy.  (vs. 11)  What God is able to do for those of us who grieve seems as impossible as moving a mountain, but He, nonetheless, will come when we are ready to receive Him to bring us joy for the journey and hope as a new companion for the future.    

Chaos in the Creche

It was chaos in the creche. It was full of children bringing to life that moment long ago when Jesus was born in Bethlehem.  At times the congregation sat in awe as the children performed and at other times there was a gentle subdued tittering of laughter.  The two little girls dressed as sheep went to sleep.  The donkey kept losing his headgear and the cow kept reaching between his legs for the long tail which hung on the backside of his cow suit.  But, when it was all said and done, the wonderful story had been told and all those present rose in applause.   

Afterthought made the chaos appropriate.  We are tempted to sanitize the ancient story and make it stationary with each character playing some carefully choreographed part.  Actually, it was likely more chaotic that night in Bethlehem than any Sunday morning in church.  There were real animals moving about, stirring hay dust, and doing animal stuff.  There was the sound of a woman in childbirth, a frantic husband trying to create some order, and maybe, some midwife hollering out instructions.  Hopefully, the smelly shepherds did not arrive early to stand around outside waiting for something to happen.  

When "the Word became flesh..."  (John 1:14),  when "...Christ Jesus, who...was in the form of God...emptied Himself,...being born in human likeness..." (Philippians 2:5-7), and when "she (Mary) gave birth to her firstborn son...and laid Him in a manger..." (Luke 2:7), it was likely a very messy scene being played out on center stage in human history.  From the very beginning the Scripture lets us know God is exceptional in creating good out of chaos, but then, most of us have experienced this happening through His grace in our own lives.

The Homecoming

It is, of course, no surprise that reading Nouwen's book on the prodigal son sent me to Luke 15 to read the parable once again.  For a preacher it is a parable with a thousand sermons.  Well, perhaps, I exaggerate a bit, but it has within it a lot of good texts for sermons.  My favorite verse and image within the parable is verse 20.  "...But while he (the younger son) was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him."  Anyone looking for a picture of God need look no further.   

What is implied within the words and the image is the reality that the father had been looking for the gone from home son.  The image which has always accompanied the parable is the father standing each evening at the gate looking down the road to see if this would be the day his lost son would return.  The father did not give up on his son.  He waited for him with love.  And when the son was nearing home, the father was beside himself with joy as he ran down the road to take his son in his arms once again.   

It is a homecoming that speaks to each of us about how our Father God loves us.  Not even our indifference toward Him changes the way He loves us.  When we come to the place of realizing that our obsessions with the trivial ego pursuits of life are a dead end street and turn around, He is there with open arms of forgiveness and a heart filled with love.  Many have been the times when this prodigal soul has wandered far from home only to find the Father's arms open when it became clear that the way being pursued was only taking him further away from the longing of his heart.  How thankful we all are for His patience, His long suffering, His mercy, and His unconditional love.

God's Home

Since retirement I have been reading some different authors.  Henri Nouwen, Thomas Merton, Richard Rohr, and Joan Chittister..  And though Wesleyan to the core, these Roman Catholic writers have nurtured the longing of my heart for God.  There are other new writers which have led me to probe more deeply the heart of mine where the Spirit dwells.  J. Philip Newell, John O'Donohue, Christine Valters Paintner, and Esther De Waal.  These last four have opened a new window enabling me to see and walk into the stream of Celtic spirituality.     

There is a sense in which they have all caused me to walk into a spiritual life that is deeper than the one known before coming to this place and certainly one which makes me want to pay attention to the ordinary moments of my life since those are the moments when God is most apt to be seen, heard, and known.  I am amazed at the way my view of the things of God which seemed so nailed down to the floor of the institutional church has been changing  There have times when the change seemed so radical that I felt like I needed to live my faith secretly lest I be branded as some strange heretic who had lost his way.   

Today while reading, or I should say re-reading Henri Nouwen's book, "The Return of the Prodigal Son," I found the words, "Jesus says, 'Anyone who loves me will keep my word and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him and make our home in him.'  These words have always impressed me deeply.  I am God's home!"   My response could have been "Amen," but instead, it was "Wow!"  Our search for God need not take us on a pilgrimage to some distant shrine, but simply to the inward part of our being where God dwells through the power and presence of the Holy Spirit.  I am grateful for this season when God has been probing my heart enabling me to know how it is that we are enabled by Him to walk constantly in His presence.  

The Journey

Growing up as an Air Force brat and then later as a PK (Preacher's Kid) in a Methodist parsonage makes answering the question, "Where you from?" a hard one.  I never know exactly how to respond.  Do I speak of my birthplace, or do I list the six different places I lived before graduating from high school, or the seven different communities where i served as a pastor?  Maybe I should just say I was born in Waycross, Georgia and considered it answered.  I am never sure where home is although the years of retirement have brought me to a farm which feels more like home than anyplace I have lived.    

Perhaps, my journey from one place to another points toward the reality of our common journey from the moment of our conception to the moment of returning in death to the hands of the Creator who first held and shaped us.  When I started this blog and named it JourneyNotes some fifteen years ago, I had no idea how the image of life being a journey would be implanted in my heart.  I suppose I should have seen it sooner as many times as I have read and pondered the calling of Abraham to journey to an unknown land, but it took me longer than most.  

It was only after retiring and coming to the farm that I began to see what it had all been about as well as what was ahead.  A journey is what it has been and a journey is what is left.  There is a blessed destination as I have seen in the final steps, or breaths, of some worn out and weary souls who were longing more for Home than continuing the journey here.  I, too, have a longing for Home.  I know it is where I belong, but as for now, I will keep plodding along.  There is still a ways to go.

Making a Difference

Burning Bushes

Advent tells us to look for God stirring about.  The Genesis story of Eden tells us that the Garden couple expected God to be revealing Himself regularly in their ordinary lives.  They learned to expect Him.  They anticipated His evening walks in the Garden which is why they were in hiding on the day they paid attention to what the serpent was telling them to do. What we never really need is someone else to tell us we messed up.  They knew and we know, too.   

When we hold the ancient story in one hand and the Advent message in the other, we come to a place of knowing that God is still out there.  It may seem to us that He is in hiding, but the truth is that we do not always want this Invisible One to become the Visible One.  Advent says to forget such wishful thinking.  He is going to be revealing Himself to us.  He is going to come to us as surely as He came walking in the Garden and as surely as He showed up as a helpless baby in the arms of Mary.  He is not only out there on the edge of revealing Himself to us, but we should be living with the expectation that such a revelation is about to happen.    

Our expectations shape our living.  If we expect God to reveal Himself to us in the ordinary moments of our day, we will live those days with eyes opened to look for Him.  We will live them differently.  One of the lessons learned here at the farm in these years of being immersed in the creation is that "Earth's crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God."  (Elizabeth Barrett Browning)  When I first came here thirteen years ago, I never expected to see a burning bush and now it seems that they are all burning!

Farewell

Finally, kind Lord,

   the waiting's been done,

     the slow dying, too,

       no more not seeing,

          no more not hearing,

            no more, Lord, no more,

gone from here to there.

A time for shouting,

    a time for dancing, 

      a time for praising, 

        death now overcome,

           once and forever more,

             hoped for but not seen,

joy on golden streets.

Though heavy with grief, 

    time now to let go,

      as a bird has wings

        and birthed to fly,

          and soar high above,

            so was his soul made

for the journey home.

Thank you, great Father,

    Your plan unseeable 

       since the beginnning,

         now is plain and clear,

           the heart now stilled

             is filled with love

and is there, not here.

     

Fire and Smoke

The first candle on the Advent Wreath has been lit and extinguished by now.  I like candles in the Sanctuary.  It was always a special moment when the acolytes made their journey up the aisle to light the candles on the Table.  And, to be honest is to confess that when the journey was reversed and the candles were extinguished, I often said quietly to myself, "Holy Smoke." The smoke hanging and curling in the air for a brief moment before it disappeared almost always made me think of the Holy Spirit.    

The burning candles and the extinguished candles spoke their own message.  I loved the Christ Candle ablaze on Easter Sunday.  I found great meaning in that moment of darkness on Good Friday evening when one after another all the candles were extinguished until the Sanctuary was bathed in a darkness I knew had only a temporary hold.  And only a few of us do not have precious memories of holding a candle on Christmas Eve as we sang with the host of saints, "Silent Night."  

The fire and smoke speaks its own message to each of us. It is likely a message we have taken for granted over the years, but there in the darkness in which each speaks is a Word from God reminding us of so many things which propel us forward in expressing our love and adoration for the One who has come to us through Bethlehem and who promises to come still once again in such a way that we shall all see Him and His glory.  Thanks be to God!

Seduction

In his book, "The Way of the Heart," Henri Nouwen quotes the introduction of "The Wisdom of the Desert," written by Thomas Merton:  "Society...was regarded (by the Desert Fathers) as a shipwreck from which each single individual man had to swim for his life...These were men who believed that to let oneself drift along, passively accepting the tenets and values of what they knew as society, was purely and simply a disaster."  Nouwen goes on to write that our society is "a dangerous network of domination and manipulation in which we can easily get entangled and lose our soul."  Another way to put the problem is that we can be seduced by the powers of the world.      

It is certainly something to think about on this first Sunday of Advent.  Advent launches us into a time of seeing with new eyes the Lord and King who has come and is coming again.  It is a time of asking ourselves if we are living under the authority of the Kingdom of God, or if we have come to a place of living as a subject of a kingdom which seeks to control our lives through fear and manipulation instead of grace and love.  The Desert Fathers decided to swim away, to go into the desert so that they could survive and serve the Christ in such a broken world.    

At some point we have to decide about swimming or staying.  Swimming may not mean going off into some remote area, but it will require us to make decisions about our ultimate loyalty and lifestyle.  The Desert Fathers saw their decision to be one which was made for the safety of their souls.  It is something for us to consider for ourselves as well.  "Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell."  (Matthew 10:28)

Advent Morning

Advent begins this morning.  This first season on the Christian Calendar will be duly observed in most liturgically based churches today and ignored or given a very casual glance in the others.  It is a season about waiting.  But, it is not the kind of waiting we do in offices of important people, or the kind of waiting a husband might do for his wife, or even the kind of waiting a little child does before Christmas morning.  Instead, it is a waiting which has at its core a belief that God is about to act and there is nothing more important than being ready.    

It is a hard and difficult season.  When rightly observed its days are somber, stark, and empty of festivity.  It is a season of longing, anticipation, and waiting.  It is really a season no one wants to observe because December means Christmas and no one, not even the church crowd, wants to wait.  Most churches will be filled with Christmas trees and festive ribbons midst greenery hung on the end of every pew and the first song may be "Come, Thou long Expected Jesus," but it is more likely that some Christmas song will be sung before the morning is done.  

Advent is intended to be a thoughtful and reflective moment as those who worship are called to think about how life needs to be changed in order to be ready for God to act in our lives which, of course, is what is out there on the horizon as Christmas approaches.  What is central to the Advent season is the reality that God has acted in a powerful way when Jesus was born into the world.  It was a moment when God acted in such a way as to save us from ourselves and our sin.  What does that mean for us?  Listen again to the Advent hymns and read again those Advent scriptures and then sit for a spell until the silence settles deep into our spirit.  The answer awaits those who have ears to hear.

A Subtle Shift

Retirement took me out of the liturgical loop.  I must confess to Advent slipping up on me.  It used to be something seen on the distant horizon and anticipated like a glowing sunset.  Nowadays it, along with other turning point liturgical days, seems to be first seen in the rearview mirror.  Easter and Christmas are appropriately duly noted, but the rest of the important liturgical days come and go without much notice on my part.  I am not bragging, or confessing, but acknowledging a change that has taken place in my life.  

This change is just one of the things which points to the reality that the institutional church is no longer the center of my life.  Some might say such a change is good while others might point a finger and speak of backsliding.  What I really need to confess is that the church should never have been the center of my life. Somewhere along the way of going from ordination to retirement, I lost sight of the real center.  The real center is not the church, but the One whose blood was shed to bring it into being. It is painful to confess that the church was substituted for the Christ, but if there is to be any honest repentance in this season of Advent, it must be confessed again in the present as it has been in the past.   

It is a temptation most clergy face at one time or another in their lives.  It is also easy for those who do not wear the markings of the ordained to figure that doing the work of the church is synonymous with serving Christ.  And while it may be, it can also be another way Christ has been usurped by the church.  It happens in such a subtle way.  Not too many can point to the hour it happened.  In some ways it is like the Garden of Eden coming alive again except it is not Adam and Eve being temtped, but you and me.  

Advent Eve

The candles wait in darkness,

    waiting virgins hidden now,

       wicks untouched by the fire

          not yet hot and burning, 

            like two lovers longing

              for holy consummation,

the candle and flame apart.

Who will come with holy fire?

    Who will extinguish the dark?

        Who will declare its time done?

            Who comes with comforting words?

               Who will rise and go forth now?

Who brings hope that light has come?

Now, arise, the light has come,

    behold, the glory of the Lord

      that has come to overcome

        is about to come in fire 

         upon those circled virgins   

          who wait for holy fire

when the Lord's glory will shine.

(Isaiah 60:1-2)          

Drawn to Mystery

I read a lot.  A lot.  I always have.  Since those days of childhood when my mother took my sister and me to the local library, I have read a lot.  It is like my first love was a bound collection of pages filled with words   I still read.  I always have at least one book open for reading.  Sometimes more.  Not too long ago I was reading for entertainment and insight about the ministry of the church.  At the end of the day it always seemed to be something that made sense and could be understood.    

Nowadays it is different.  My reading diet has changed for books that cause me to wonder what I missed.  They are books that when read I do not usually understand.  And, so I end up reading them again and often with the same results.  Recently I have read "St. Francis of Assisi" by G. K.Chesterton, a book about Ignatius ("A Pilgrim's Journey"), "Watership Down" by Richard Adam, and one in process, "Holy the Firm" by Annie Dillard.  I wonder about myself.  Why am I drawn to reading what I cannot seem to understand?   I suppose it has been that way since those days of long ago when I was drawn to reading the small zippered black Bible given to me as a child.  Maybe even then I was being drawn to mystery.  

I cannot say for sure.  But, what I do know now is that it is not what can be learned about this mysterious God that attracts me, but what cannot be known.  The long road of the unfolding years has brought me to a place of wanting to be in the midst of mystery more than I want to stand in the way of certainly.  Somehow it seems that within the mystery there is holy epiphany.  Within the mystery there is a greater divine revealing than ever I have known.  "As a deer pants for flowing streams, so my soul longs for You, O God.  My soul thirst for God, for the living God."  (Psalm 42:1-2)

The Core Foundation

One of the hardest things for most of us to do is to think creatively.  There was a time when those who envisioned the church of tomorrow would tell us to think out of the box.  Perhaps, they still do.  It has been some times since I have been around anyone talking about visioning work.  The problem with the clergy doing it is that no one taught us how to do it.  Back when I was  sitting in seminary classrooms, no one was talking to us about thinking creatively.  And while I cannot speak for today's seminary classrooms, I suspect it is much the same.    

What happens when we begin to think creatively about the church of tomorrow is that we end up with a vision of the church which is too much like the church of the day.  Getting out of the box is a monumental task for most of us.  And if we do manage to get out, we are so bewildered we end up fashioning something using the structures of today's church.    How we get from where we are to there is not as easy as getting a popular church growth expert to speak, or reading the latest trendy book.  What we have learned through experience is that what works in one place is not necessarily something which will work elsewhere.   

I often think the key to thinking creatively about the church is sitting and seeking emptiness.  Or, maybe it is found in the process of letting go of those things which seem to be essential to the life of the church.  If we began with ten and started getting rid of one after another until there was only one, would we end up with a core from which a new vision of the church might be birthed?  I am not sure, but it seems that in the turning loose there might come an awareness of what must be the necessary foundation.  

Slowing Down

If we can walk a little slower and stop a little longer, we might find ourselves finding out things that have been hidden from us.  When we only take the time to say "Good Morning" and "Have a good day," we are likely to miss out on the important stuff which is happening to someone whom God brings into our path.  It may be a stranger who needs to tell some anonymous person that his or her life is falling apart, or some friend who wants to brag on a child or a grandchild.    

Not too many days ago after leaving a moment of real conversation with a new friend, I was reminded again that we all carry around a lot of baggage which is kept closed up in some closet of our heart.  And the truth is that the difficult stuff of our life is going to stay hidden unless someone slows down enough to make us feel like we have permission to open the door. The hurried conversations that are filled with us looking for the exits hardly are those moments of permission giving.   

In Galatians 6:2 the Word says, "Bear one another's burdens..." and James 6:16 tells us, "Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another..."  A hurried lifestyle cannot accomplish these Words.  It takes time.  It takes a willingness to risk personal vulnerability.  We cannot do what we do not know.  Sitting, listening, caring, and visiting are the things which enable us to be burden bearers and intercessors.  None of these things are hard things to do, but they do require the effort of slowing down.

The Small Place

In the last few months my Sunday morning worship time has been in the small tucked away off the main road churches.  Most of them have stood there for a very long time.  Many of them have cemeteries which tell their age much as gray hair and wrinkled skin mark me as one who has lived for a spell.  They are always intriguing places to be.  To stand in a place where several generations have worshipped is an experience which fires up the imagination and creates a desire for the real stories which could be told if churches could talk.  

Most of these off the road churches are hardly half filled and most look as much to the past as to the future.  But, there are always exceptions.  In this day when the mega church has such a hold on the people around it, there is great pleasure in seeing a young preacher standing in the pulpit of a nearby about to close church preaching the Word and daring the people to dream dreams they had forgotten how to dream.  And, it is even more exciting to see the lively caring fellowships which have taken root over the years in those forgotten churches.    

I cannot but have hope for the small church whose people worry about having enough in the plates to keep going.  The small church may not have the glitze and drama of the large church, but it has real people who know about living with one another through the good and bad times, who have a long history of faith in the risen Christ, and who believe above all else that God is going to show up in the ordinary things of their lives.   I would rather sit with those folks than the ones who go to be entertained in the places where the power brokers and social elites gather. As the old song says, "Gimme that old time religion, it's good enough for me."

Thanksgiving, 2023

My inner attitude about gratitude changed ten years ago when I read a book entitled "1000 Gifts"   It was written by Ann Voskamp and if any book has had a transforming power in my life, it is this one.  I have recommended the book to many people and given it to several as a gift.  On a more superficial level it caused me to start what I call a "Gratitude Journal" where blessings for which I am grateful are listed.  She did a list of 1000 in a year.  I have not yet reached that mark.  The reason is not a lack of gratitude, but a lack of discipline.   

At a deeper level she both inspired me and enabled me to live with a deeper sense of thanksgiving.  When I read a verse like Ephesians 5:20 which says, "giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ," or I Thessalonians 5:18 which says, "give thanks in all circumstances...," it makes more sense than it did before reading the book.  Living a life filled with gratitude is possible and it begins with being aware of how we are blessed.     

There have been some rough spots along the way in these past ten years with the last one being one of the roughest of my life, but what I have learned through the years of practicing gratitude is that if we look at the edge of the darkness which is overwhelming us we will start seeing things for which we can be grateful.  It may be a prayer being offered, a dish of food being delivered, or a caring word being spoken, but if we look out there on the edge we will see those things that cause us to be thankful.  And the more we look to the edge of the darkness, the more we begin to see things for which to be grateful even in the core of the darkness.  I again thank Ann Voskamp for the teaching in her book and I again thank the Holy Spirit for staying with me and teaching me hard truths in difficult and dark places.  

The Final Authority

The Scripture gets read for all sorts of reasons.  Some folks like a good story and the Bible certainly has more than just a few.  Others read it for information.  They see it as a "how to do it" book.  And, of course, there are more than a small number who read it to assuage guilt for not reading it.  The truth is we read it for all sorts of reasons and in response to all kinds of circumstances in our life.  It is definitely a one of a kind book.  There is nothing like it.    

Its uniqueness is found in what it says about itself, "All scripture is inspired by God, and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that eveyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work."  (II Timothy 3:16-17)  There are books that are inspired and I would like to think that I have preached some inspired sermons, but when we speak of such inspiration, it pales in comparison to the way the holy Scipture has been inspired through the ages as the Holy Spirit took ordinary folks like you and me to bring about a sacred writing that has no comparison.    

While some may regard such words as an exaggeration, there remains no doubt in my mind that the Holy Word that has been carved out through the ages of God's dealing with the likes of us is uniquely inspired by the Holy Spirit.  Unlike any written word, it is God's Word to His people.  We are His people and this Word of His was written to be the final and ultimate authority for the living we do.  

A Barefoot Place

The book is not one which is going to ever  be acclaimed as one of the great literary works.  Nonetheless, I have read it several times and once again in the last few days found myself drawn to it.  "Chasing Francis" is the name of the book and it was written  by Ian Morgan Cron.  It is a story of a modern day mega church pastor who loses himself and his soul and ends up in Italy on a pilgrimage to the sites made sacred by St. Francis.  Maybe I read it to come under the ministry of that ancient saint, and then again, maybe I read it because of the searching of my own soul.    

Early on in the book the author defines the word pilgrimage as the spiritual mentor of the disillusioned and lost seeker says, "The word 'pilgrimage' comes from the Latin word "peregrinus,'  which means a person wandering the earth in exile, someone in search of a spiritual homeland. If I'm not mistaken, that sounds a lot like you."  Neither the disillusioned character of the novel, nor I, had any argument.  It took me some time to realize that coming to the farm from the church was a kind of pilgrimage.  I thought at first it was just about retirement, but after some time midst the silence of the sacred unfolding creation, I realized it was about more than changing locations and entering into a slower season of my life.    

The farm is not sacred in the sense that the chapel at San Damiano was for Francis, but it has still become sacred space.  While I have come to a place of believing that every space is sacred because every space bears the imprint of the holy hands of the Creator, it must also be affirmed that some space seems to have a spiritual power and presence which comes from the accumulated prayers of God's people and the work of God in that place.  We have all found ourselves in places where we felt compelled to take off our shoes.  I never anticipated the farm to be a place where I would consider walking barefoot.  

Nocturnal Mystery

Reading the Scripture is always different.  There are times when the reading seems to take us down a road so well traveled we expect every twist and turn encountered.  And, then there are other trips through its pages which feel more like an adventure as surprises unfold before us.  I remember long years ago some author whose name is now forgotten writing a book about God being a surprising God.  It remains a good way to speak of Him.  He is not only full of surprises as He reveals Himself to us in the ongoing moments of our life, but He has also left them littered across the  pages of His holy Word.   

Some late night reading brought me to such a place last night.  While meandering through the early verses of Mark, I ran into that section about the baptism of Jesus.  It said, "And just as He was coming out of the water, He saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on Him."  (Mark 1:10)  Those words from Mark about the heavens being torn apart contain much more drama than Matthew and Luke as they simply wrote about the heavens being opened.  (Matthew 3:16, Luke 3:21)    

All I could do was sit for a spell with those two radically different images.  Matthew and Luke seem to be describing someone opening a door and Mark takes us into something like a violent act in the heavens such as that moment when the lightning and thunder come at once to split the air around us.  I am still sitting with it this morning.  Wondering.  I am sure from past experience that there is something I am missing.  At this moment I do not see it.  However, I figure to sit with it for awhile and maybe at some point I will find a open window into the mystery.  

Just Do It

For most of us it is hard.  It is especially hard in the beginning.  The body does not want to do what it does not like to do.  What it wants to do in the hours before the sun shows itself is sleep; yet, we keep reading that the spiritual giants of the past are those who rise and use those first hours of the day as important "cannot be interrupted" moments with God.  We tell our body these spiritual giants are who we want to use as models for our own spiritual life and our body says, "Be quiet and go to sleep."     

And, of course, we remember that story in the early verses of Mark's gospel which took place in the home of Simon and Andrew.  "And in the morning, having risen a long time before daylight, He (Jesus) went out and departed to a solitary place, and there He prayed."  (Mark 1:35)  Apparently, these spiritual giants from our past took this Word about Jesus seriously.  And no matter what our body tells us about sleeping another hour early in the morning, it would be a good thing to listen to these words about the spiritual life of Jesus than to succumb to a little more sleep.   

It is at least worthy of another effort.  If it means we have to get up a little earlier, then maybe we might find that it is worth it.  We may also have to ignore that internal plea for more sleep.  It will be harder the first few mornings, but after the habit gets established in our life, we will likely come to a place where we would not choose to start any day without some time alone with our Father God.  If it has been awhile, there is no need to get out the guilt stick and start beating ourselves.  Instead, we just need to get up and sit down in the morning silence and let God speak to our hearts.  

A Missed Opportunity

It was mostly a whim which took me to a Wednesday night program at a local church in a distant place.  Not really wanting a church meal,  I opted for a late arrival which would get me there in time for the Bible Study.  It was still early enough to watch from my seat at an empty table the exodus of folks who were so filled by the food for the stomach they needed no food for the soul.  Finally, when there were a couple of dozen folks of the original hundred remaining someone walked over, gave me an outline for the Bible Study, and told me to sign the visitor's book before leaving for the outreach ministry.   

Forty five minutes later, the teacher prayed the closing prayer, and people started gathering their Bible and notes for their journey to the door.  As I made my way out the door, I could not help but notice the silence.  Except for the bearer of the outline, not a person spoke to me.  I did not sign the visitor's book.  There was no outreach on the part of those present so I figured there was no reason to wait for the committee.   

One of the important things for any church intent on reaching out to know is that there is only one opportunity to make a first impression.  It is not something which happens by a follow up group, but is something which happens as soon as a new person casts a shadow inside the door.   And while I was not looking for a place to grow my spiritual life last Wednesday, had I been, I would go looking somewhere else next week.

Morning Praise

It has been one of those rare nights of sleeping in the city.  The city wakes up differently than the farm.  At the farm the morning is announced not by the cranking of cars filled with people hurrying to the nine to five places, but the singing of a host of different birds out there in the early darkness.  The rising sun does not have to find its way around buildings, but is free to pour its light across open hay fields and into the bedroom window.  There is no distant roar on asphalt, only the quiet sounds not heard which announce the beginning of a new day.    

By now it is no secret that I am in love with the farm and all its ways.  It has fed and continues to feed my soul with a silence which surprisingly enough heightens my awareness of God prowling around in His creation much like He must have done in the Garden where the first farmers cared for the land.  While I know being immersed in the creation is not for everyone, I sometimes wish it could be the experience of everyone at least for a day.    

It is, perhaps, in the glory of the brilliant sunset or in the rise of a full moon that most folks are caused to stand in awe of the Creator, but the truth is there is nothing about this Creation which does not have the capacity to cause hands to be raised and knees to be bent.  I am thankful this morning that no matter where I am, He is.  He roams the quietness of the farm and the roaring asphalt of the city.  He is here.  There.  He is with us.  Thanks be to God.

The Surprising God

Ezekiel was trained to be a priest in the Temple in Jerusalem; he ended up a prophet by the River Chebar among the Chaldeans.  He was expecting a life midst the bells and whistles and incense of the Temple and found himself sitting in the mud and misery of a dirty pagan river.  Life did not turn out as Ezekiel figured.  One moment he was in Jerusalem and the next he was transported by the Spirit and put down in this strange land where he sat "stunned, for seven days."  (Ezekiel 3:15)    

When our life is put in the hands of God, it is full of surprises.  We think we know in the beginning what it means to follow Jesus, but what we soon discover is that we know nothing.  He takes us into the invisible at the beginning realm of "know not where."   This was certainly the experience of Abraham as he heeded a voice which said, "Go, from your father's country and your kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you."  (Genesis 12:1)  It happened to a couple of disciples who asked Jesus about His whereabouts and heard Him say in response, "Come and see."  (John 1:39)    

The one thing we think we know in the beginning is something we really do not know.  When we say "Yes" to the bidding of God, we think it is going to be according to our expectations, but we often find out that He has in mind another way.  As we seek to discern the ever changing call of God to go, it is imperative to remember that God seldom calls us to stay in our comfort zone, but instead, is constantly calling us to step out yonder where being faithful requires not our know how, but our faith.

A Balanced Life

There are some texts in the Word which should guarantee a good sermon.  Of course, even a good preacher can bomb on a given Sunday regardless of the text, but it never hurts to have one that preaches easily. One such text is found in the latter part of the fifth chapter of Amos.  It begins with "I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies,"  and ends with "But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream."  (Amos 5:21-24)  The prophet was speaking to a people who thought that their religious liturgy was all that was needed to please God, but, of course, they were wrong.    

It is always an easy thing for religious people to compartmentalize expressions of faith to the point that one becomes so primary all the rest end up being neglected and forgotten.  What we do in the sanctuary is important and has value, but it is empty without right living in the world.  A faith that is completely vertical in expression is a faith gone awry.     

Jesus sought to underscore the balance when He told the Pharisees of His day, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment."  And then He added, "And a second is like it:  You shall love your neighbor as yourself."  (Matthew 22:37-39)  We can live with our head stuck in heaven so much that we become of no earthly use and in the same manner, we can stick our head in the things of earth to the  point that we are unrecognizable in heaven.  Life is always lived better in balance.  It is no different as we seek to live with faith that is balanced between the incense of worship and the sweat of service.

The Gift of God

Having a theology degree is not necessary for God to call and make use of a person.  Moses was certainly not trained to lead a nation of people from slavery to the promised land.  Neither was he one who grew up anticipating being a spiritual leader.  Nonetheless, he was God's pick.  Amos is another.  The book of prophecy which bears his name may not be as long as Isaiah or Jeremiah, but his was an important role in Israel's history.  No one was more surprised than Amos that he was called to be God's spokesman.     

His field of expertise was agriculture.  He told Amaziah, the priest of Bethel and one of his antagonist, "I am no prophet, nor a prophet's son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees..."  (Amos 7:14)  God had other plans for this simple man.  "...And the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, 'Go prophesy to my people Israel."  (Amos 6:15)  So, he went.  Whether he went unwillingly as did Moses we do not know, but what we do know is that he went according to the Word God placed upon his life.   

Let none of us think we cannot be useful in the hands of God.  When He calls us to be about something, it may seem to us that it is beyond our field of expertise or outside of our comfort zone.  It does not matter to God.  When He calls us to be about His work, we can be assured that He will provide whatever it is that is necessary for us to act and live and speak faithfully in His behalf.  When Moses balked saying he could not speak with eloquence, the Lord said, "Who gives speech to mortals?  Who makes them mute or deaf, seeing or blind?  Is it not I, the Lord?  Now go and I will be your mouth..."  (Exodus 4:11-12)  When God calls us, He will provide what is necessary to accomplish His plan.

The Sneaky Prophet

If Jeremiah was known as a weeping prophet, then we might call Amos a sneaky prophet.  The first two chapters of the book which bears his name contains judgment against all of Israel's neighbors.  If the words of judgment are read with a map beside the Word, it would seem that Amos is pronouncing the wrath of God against all the nations whose border touches Israel.  Using a repetitive prophetic formula he goes after one neighboring country after another and as he does you can hear the Israelites cheering him between the lines.   "Go get them, God.  Give 'em what they deserve,"  they likely cried.     

But, then something unexpected happened.  It begins in verse 6 of chapter 2 as he says, "Thus says the Lord:  For three transgressions of Israel, and for four, I will not revoke the punishment; for they sell the righteousness for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals...."  Suddenly, the cheering changed from "Go get 'em, God" to "Let's run this one out of town."   Those Israelites were a lot like us.  We are fine with our neighbor getting what is deserved, but there is nothing wrong with us.    

Actually, Jesus had the last word on this issue when He said to the disciples in the Sermon on the Mount, "Do not judge, so that you may not be judged."  (Matthew 7:1)   While it is certainly more comfortable for us to focus on the faults of our neighbors, Jesus tells us to look in the mirror.  Casting stones can be dangerous business when the stones being thrown get picked up and thrown back at the glass house we have built around ourselves.  What is always good to remember and certainly the Sermon in Matthew underscores it, is that there are no bad and "badder" and "badest" sins.  As far as God is concerned sin is sin.  Sin is any expression of disobedience to God.  Our neighbors may look worse than us to us, but such is true only in our eyes.  God sees things differently.  

Buying a Field

When Jeremiah was told by the Lord to buy a field at Anathoth, it must have seemed rather strange to the prophet.  (Jeremiah 32:7)  It was a time when Jerusalem was under siege by the army of Nebuchadnezzar and Jeremiah was prophesying, "Thus says the Lord:  'I am going to give this city into the hands of the king of Babylon, and he shall take it.' "  (Jeremiah 32:3)  Why buy a field when the nation is on the edge of certain collapse?  Why plan for the future when there seems to be no future?  So, Jeremiah went and bought the field at Anathoth. (Jeremiah 32:9)       

The reason we find in a later verse, "For thus says the Lord of hosts,the God of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought in this land."  (Jeremiah 32:15)  In a time of despair and in a time when the Word of the Lord spoke wrath and judgment, there was a word of hope.  It was a word not simply spoken, but one enacted through the visible purchase of a piece of land bought at such an unlikely time.  It was a move into the future when there seemed to be no future.  Despite the impending success of Babyon and the loss of everything, God spoke a word of hope about a future that was hidden in the moment, but which would unfold in time as surely as the sun would rise every morning.  From time to time we find ourselves standing in such moments.  

If we live long enough we are likely to come to one of those moments of darkness and hopelessness when it seems that there is no future for us.  In those moments we may find that God leads us out of the darkness of a broken and shattered past by calling us to act toward the future in a way that defies common sense and logic.  The leading of God is not always easy to discern for sometimes it seems as shrouded in the invisible as moutain tops do in the early morning mist.  The Scripture tells us in numerous ways that God always has a future for us.  We may not see it.  We may not believe it is possible.  But, if we look long enough with faith that He will not forsake us and that He is working to bring us to some good, we may begin to see the signs that life is not over.  The sign of hope for the future may be in something which makes no more sense than buying a field for the future when there is no future.  

At the Crossroads

One of my favorite passages in Jeremiah is found in the 6th chapter of the writing bearing his name.  The 16th verse of that chapter says, "Thus says the Lord:  Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way lies; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls."   Those ancient Hebrews would not listen.  They said, "We will not walk in it....We will not give heed."  (vs. 16-17)  We seem to be living in a day when the ancient way is regarded as an irrelevant way.    

Jeremiah perceived that the Hebrews were standing at a perilous moment when choices were possibilites.  To continue ignoring the ancient way would result in a world where no choices would remain, only the consequences.  The Hebrews chose the way of experiencing and enduring the consequences.  In so many places and in so many situations it seems that the choices being made today by so many come from immersion in the common consensus of culture instead of immersion in the ancient sacred Word.  It is as if the mantra of the day is "We will not walk in it."   

Choosing to walk in our own way has been a problem since the beginning.  Choosing to walk in our own way speaks of the root cause of our sin.  It was the way of the Garden of Eden couple long generations ago and it remains a choice so easily made.  To live in a relationship with the Creator who brought us into being requires consideration of the word "submission" and a life style based on "Thy will be done"  instead of one which speaks of the way paved by ego.  To realize the difference is to stand at a crossroad where important decisions will be made.  

Who Will Go?

God does not always ask us to do the easy thing.  Sometimes it is the hard thing, the unpopular thing, the one thing you never wanted to do.  I remember a moment long years ago when I heard in my spirit a call to preach.  I was not yet eighteen, packing up clothes to go to Young Harris College, and was absolutley certain that I wanted nothing to do with this call to preach which was echoing with such urgency in my heart.  It would take me another six months to come around to the place of saying "Yes" to what I knew God was calling me to do.   

God calls us to a lot things.  Some take up a life time and some can be accomplished tomorrrow.  Regardless of the time involved, there may well be some reluctance to launch out on something which seems impossible even though God is pushing for it.  The Old Testament prophet Jeremiah was told that he was appointed a prophet before he was formed in the womb and born (Jeremiah 1:5), but there were times he longed for another way.  His prophetic work did not put him on magazine covers and make him man of the year, but instead, turned him into a prophet no one wanted to hear.  There were times so difficult he wanted to call it quits.  "If I say, 'I will not mention Him, or speak any more in His name,' then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot." (Jeremiah 20:9).  Jeremiah wanted to quit this hard work of God, but he could not.   

Many of us have experienced such a reality.  There have been times when the Word of God puts us in such an uncomfortable place with those we want to like us, or a place where the task to which we are called is so overwhelming, or in some moment of spiritual quandry which shakes our faith.  Honesty requires us to admit that we have been put in places by God and like Jonah, we may have refused to go, or we may have balked to the point of angering God as did Moses.  Kingdom work always cuts against the grain of human practicality and common sense.  It is hard work.  It should not surprise us since the One who calls us is the One who walked to Golgotha burdened with a cross wondering all the while, "Who will come and go with Me?"

Wrath and Pardon

I will be the first to admit the writings of prophets like Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Hosea, and Amos can be difficult to read.  More than just a few times I have nodded off with the Word open in my lap.  And even more times have I read sections and wondered what was being said and how much I was missing. When someone says they like reading the Old Testament prophets, I always give them a second look and silently applaud them.    

Judgement is never easy for any of us to hear.  To hear judgement is to find ourselves standing in the midst of our sins.  Those Old Testament prophets did not mince words.  They did not soft pedal what they had come to understand as the wrath of God rising up against the people for their sins.  At times it seems that God is ready to wipe His people from the face of the earth.  The one thing always clear as we hear those prophetic words thundering forth is that God does not tolerate sin and disobedience.  His mercy and love may provide for a cushion of time to repent, but at some point it becomes clear that the day of judgement has come.    

But, as surely as there is judgement for sin, so is there pardon and restoration.  Regardless of the depth of the sin and no matter how terrible the punishment, God acts to restore His people.  At the end of the book of Amos there are comforting words spoken to a people who have endured holy wrath because of their sins, "I will restore the fortunes of my people Israel...I will plant them upon their land, and they shall never again be plucked up out of the land that I shall give them, says the Lord your God."  (Amos 9:14-15)  There was always a remnant.  There was always pardon and forgiveness,  And such is still true for me and you.

The Core Function

Churches come in all shapes and sizes.  There are more different signs out front than there are angels in heaven.  Some are so small they seem like family gatherings on Sunday morning and others are so large it takes several law enforcement officers present to get the thousand or so cars back on the road after the benediction.  Some survive on heavy doses of ritual and liturgy while others run from any semblance of liturgy as if a bag of snakes has been turned loose in the room.   

And while there are many different types of gatherings on any Sunday morning, there are a few things which cause me to leave thinking I would like to return.  One is good preaching.  Maybe it is the preacher in me, but I like a good sermon.  It does not have to be scholarly or long, but it does need to be one which lets a text speak.  And, I like good music that is stirring and makes me want to sing louder than I should. Of course, it is always good to have friendly people sitting with me in the sanctuary.  But, perhaps, most of all I want to leave feeling that I have worshiped God.    

There are surely other things which could be added to listings that others might make.  And, on some Sundays my list might be a bit longer.  I never have been too partial to glitz and bells and whistles as I have plain and simple when it comes to those Sunday gatherings.  What I know is that large or small, each can be a means of enabling people to come in contact and in relationship with the living Christ which is the core function of any church.

Asking Prayers

When we pray, we tend to do a lot of asking.  We ask for the healing of a friend.  Or, we ask for help with a problem.  Sometimes we ask for guidance in making some tough decision.  And, of course, we ask for God to bless us, our family, and our church.  There is certainly nothing wrong with this kind of prayer.  It is Biblical.  We read the Word and we are told to ask and we do.  Like the ancient Word to be fruitful and multiply to which we adhere, so do we diligently practice the words about asking.   

At times I wonder about the scatter gun type of praying.  It does not really seem that the asking is for "anything" as "anything" can get to be unreasonable as well as something which seems to fly in the face of the prayer teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount that tells us to pray according to "Thy will be done."  Reconciling random asking and the Word from the Sermon is not easy.   

One way to approach our asking prayers might be to ask God how it is that He wants us to ask.  Instead of asking Him to heal someone, maybe asking Him how He wants us to pray for someone in trouble is a better direction.  Or, instead of asking Him to bless our church, asking Him how it is that He would have us pray for His church would be a more appropriate way to pray.  What is being suggested is obvious.  Maybe before we start asking Him for anything, we need to ask Him how we should be praying in the different situations of our life.  As we seek to pray inside His will, we could start asking Him to enable us to see His will so that we might ask according to His heart instead of what we think someone needs from Him.

The Final Word

Life never tells us what is ahead.  There are no signs telling us a winding snake like curve is ahead and neither are there any signs to warn that falling rocks may come rolling down.  And to be truthful is to admit that were there signs, they would likely be ignored by most of us.  It is still true that the unwanted moments which suddenly dump stuff on us come like some guest to the party whose presence is not expected or wanted.   

What we would keep away shows up in our lives anyway.  Ask anyone who looks a bit shaken and is wearing not tatoos but body and soul scars.  There is no way to read the gospels without seeing in many of  the verses the wisdom of Jesus as he talked about rain falling on the just and the unjust.  (Matthew 5:45)   Before I was eight years old I got wet in my first rainfall on that day my father died and only a few days ago I felt that same rain falling in what seemed like such a sunshining day.  There is no umbrella which keeps us from feeling the storms which threaten the status quo of our life.  

What is always out there is the One who put the spark of life in us when we still not formed in the darkness of the womb.  It may seem trite to some, but it is true that this God who brought us into being is not going to leave us alone, nor is He going to let some difficulty have the last word.  The hard word which seems to destroy our existence always seems to be spoken when we leave the graveyard, but what is always true is the way the resurrection morning story proclaims that no matter what it is that is out there ahead of us or surrounding us, we will get through to the glorious and sometimes invisible plan of God.  

Musicians

I have always believed that music had a powerful place in worship.  It can do what words cannot do.  It touches a place so deep that words often fail to penetrate.  And so, at one of my churches long years ago, I dared to do a brazen thing I should not have done.  But, I was young and lived with the idea I could do anything.  The church needed someone to help with the church choir.  I figured since I had one conducting course at Asbury College and had experience as a church secretary, janitor, youth worker, and Sunday School teacher, I could just add one more thing to my resume.     

The Talbotton Church was patient with my attempt to help, but at  best I was not even a good "get by."  Every place else I served I was blessed with very good musicians.  When I think back over the years I remember the many who led choirs, planned for music events, and played the piano and other instruments. My own ministry was enhanced by the way they lifted up Christ and invited people to be experience His holy presence as He made Himself known in our midst.  

I wish I could thank each one again for the way they partnered with me in ministry in so many ways.  There was a time when it was said that the music set the table for the preacher to preach and while I would never argue that music does indeed create an environment which enables the soul to be more responsive to the Word of God being preached, the music offered has a place all its own.  When I bombed out in the pulpit it was always reassuring to know that the music offered brought people in touch with the Christ which was why we were gathered in the first place.  I thank God for allowing us to serve Christ and I thank them, too.  Thanks to each one of you.

The Way Home

Dear heart of mine

   which thinks of what should be

      instead of what really is.

        I thank you for caring 

          for all the memories

            which come from the past

and seek a home in the present.

O Keeper of stored treasures,

    it is time to turn the pages,

     to find the blank white ones

       ready now to tell, not the old,

         but the new stories, not written,

           out there, but still not seen,

those taking root with a spirit of hope.

O Lover of my soul,   

    my long time Comforter,

      the One who leads on the road

        walked now for more years

          than could ever be counted,

             never causing an aimless step,

know of my heartfelt gratitude.

Father God, Savior of my soul,    

    from before the days of darkness

      in the womb, You planned for me

        and now Your plan still unfolds

           into the days and months,

             the years unknown to me,

but known by You as You take me Home.

Preaching Again

Some time ago the folks up at the Zoar Church which was one I served back in the beginning days of ministry asked me to preach.  Fifth Sunday was coming and the preacher, as is often typical in some of the small rural churches, had off on those fifth Sundays that come each year.  Those folks probably did not know that I had not preached anywhere in several years.  I may not remember what to do.  Or,  I may try to make up for a long hiatus from the pulpit and preach an extremely long, long sermon.  Or, who knows?  I may be so rusty that the sermon will be as exciting as watching an old man getting up off the floor.   

All I can say is that the preparation has been done.  It was not as easy as it used to be.  When I was preaching regularly my mind worked to prepare a message that would last 20-30 minutes and for the past forever all I have been doing is preparing a three paragraph blog.  I suppose I could preach a three paragraph sermon which might be a hit with those who will be eager to hear the benediction and get into the fried chicken which will be waiting in the fellowship hall.  I remember my first sermons at the Zoar Church back in the early '70s.  I would preach for what seemed like forever and then look at my watch to see that ten minutes had barely passed.  If I pulled that kind of sermon out of the hat, not too many would mind!    

The truth is I look forward to an opportunity go be in the pulpit again.  I have always believed and still do that preaching is one of the most important roles to be fulfilled by the spiritual leader or preacher of any congregation.  I am not saying that the other parts of the worship service are unimportant, but neither am I ready to delegate preaching to something which is of little consequence.  Preaching is about that moment when the Word of God is proclaimed.  It is that moment when the written Scripture is given a voice.  God called me long ago to be one of those voices and I shall never take it lightly.  

Thoughts at 75

When you reach 75 you have different things in view than you did at 25.  At least such seems to be the way things are over this way in these days.  I reflect on this reality from time to time as I see two things sitting on my desk which would never have found such a home many years ago.  One is a plaque with some words from a poem written by Byron Herbert Reece.  This stone gift reads, "There never was time for everything."  Some who know about it tell me it is too pessimistic, but I think not.  In some ways it points to the importance of the second desk top message.     

The second word on the desk is a white mug gifted to me some time ago which has two words written boldly in black print.  The two words were given to me in a moment  a few years into retirement.  I was kneeling in the garden doing its work when I heard from within me two words I immediately knew came from God.  ""Pay Attention," He said quietly in my spirit.  The words on the mug stare at me every day and remind me of what is important in the present moment of my life.    

Fifty years ago there seemed to be no end to the unlimited possibilities which stretched out ahead of me.  Nowadays things are seen differently.  The time is marked with the letting go of some of the things I have carried with me for a long time and a realization that the way forward is found in the present moment.  The present moment  is the place from which God offers direction and guidance into a future filled with boundaries imposed by the limited number of years left.  I want to "make the most of the time..."  (Ephesians 5:16) which is done best by paying attention to the present instead of the past or the future.

The Place of the Evening Breeze

If you want to see the glory of a morning sunrise, you must get up before light hits the sky.  If you want to know about the crashing waters hitting the sand at the edge of here and there, you must go to the shore and stand in the surging waters.  If you want to see life coming forth fresh in the Spring, you must stand on the ground where the seed has been cast in the dirt. If you want to exprerience and know holy revelation in the day, you must walk in the Garden.   

The ancient story of the Garden in Genesis enables us to know that we are to live with the expectation that God is as near as "the time of the evening breeze."  (Genesis 3:8)  Here in a very familiar story we are reminded that God intentionally chooses to reveal Himself.  He chooses to reveal Himself to those who wait faithfully as He did on many days during the span of time the Garden of Eden couple walked in the Garden, but He also comes to those who mistakenly choose a way other than faithfulness.  He is faithful to come even in those moments when our lives speak mostly of unfaithfulness.  

So, we ask ourselves, "Where is this Garden where God chooses to walk at the time of the evening breeze?"  The answer is simple.  It is everywhere for everywhere is where God is present.  The Psalmist wrote, "If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, You are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farther limits of the sea, even even there Your hand shall lead me..." (Psalm 139:8-10)  There is no forest too thick, no street too busy, no town so obscure, no place so insignificant for God to be present with both the power and the desire to reveal Himself. If we want to see and know Him, we must simply sit in the present moment and wait for it is always in the present that God chooses to walk.

A Word from Ecclesiastes

The Sunday School class had labored for weeks, or longer, working its way through the seldom read Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes.  In the final session at which I was a visitor, it seemed that the verdict on the ancient writing was framed inside wondering why such a depressing and confusing writing was included in the holy Scripture.  As an unprepared visitor who had not read the writing in years, I really had nothing to offer to the common opinion so I listened without much comment.    

However, the Sunday conversation did send me home wondering if there was anything to preach besides the 3rd chapter which begins with "For everything there is a season..."  In this questioning mode I read some of the second chapter which contained the lament, "I hated all my toil which I had toiled under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to those who come after me-and who knows whether they will be wise or foolish?" (vs. 18).  As one who has worked on a farm for thirteen years, has a love affair with the land, and wonders what will happen to it when I am gone, I can identify with the lament of the writer.    

And as I looked for the Word of God in this difficult passage, I came to the 24th verse of that chapter which said, "There is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink, and find enjoyment in their toil."  While some might read these words to be hedonistic, they could also speak to God calling us to pay attention to the present without worrying about the future.  It is not hard to remember Jesus saying something about this very issue.  So, here in the midst of this word which seems to be declaring that nothing matters, there is a word which reminds us that living in the present moment is the thing which is pleasing to God.  Next time I return to the class, I will report one more good preaching text.  And who knows?  There may be even more.

The Uncomfortable Word

At the sanctuary door, I have stood

   not once, but a thousand times

     to hear the final thoughts and words

       of the leaving ones as they rush

         from the Holy Table and the Word

           to the table where private words 

are spoken about the one who spoke the Word.

At that listening post, I have heard 

   ear tickling words, "Great sermon today!"

      and just before pride puffed up the ego

           to the point of breaking, there came

               one with a frown and the words, 

                 "You stepped all over my toes,"

causing me to wonder if too much was said.

Walking away from that place, I remembered

     those stepped on toes put food on my table,

       a roof over my head, and clothe my little ones

         with a check freely given in the passed plate

            Sunday after Sunday and then some more,

              and what happens if the pain is too great,

will I be moving from here to another place there?

When the table at home is cleared, I wonder 

     about this gospel which steps on toes, 

       making people frown and be uncomfortable, 

         not just any people, but people of power,

           purse power, over me and all of mine

             raising for me the question, ""Dare I do it?"

"Dare I preach again that uncomfortable Word?"

The Controversial Wesley

It would be a mistake to think that the Wesleyan movement which began in the 18th century with John Wesley was empty of controversy.  While Wesley became a revered spiritual spokesman and leader, there were times during his life when he was an unpopular preacher.  As an ordained Anglican priest who found fault with the organized church of his day, it is not surprising that almost all Anglican pulpits were closed to him.  Only a small handful gave him opportunities to preach.    

There were numerous things which caused controversy to swirl around him, but one was his reviving the Love Feast and Watch Night Services.  There were rituals in the Anglican tradition for these services, but they had long been neglected.  Also, at some of his preaching events there were "embarrassing" responses from some of the freshly converted.  Wesley further upset the ecclesiastical apple cart by permitting lay speakers to preach.  And, of course, the early Methodist movement provided controversial social ministries such as free schools, dispensaries, and other services to the forgotten poor.     

John Wesley, the 18th century father of Methodism, was not someone bound by the "this is the way we have always done it" mentality.  Neither was he afraid of church authorities who sought to control those who served and worshipped.  His mind and spirit was guided by loving God and a desire to express that love through expressions of love for the least, the lost, and the forgotten.  He was a man who brought together piety and service, experience and tradition, common sense and striving toward perfection.  The church of our day could use more leaders cut out of his mold.

The Celibate Church

John Wesley, the father of Methodism, was a spiritual leader who was unafraid to let the Holy Spirit work in the lives of the people who listened to him preach.  It is true that he created structure for converts to meet and grow together in small group ministries, but it also true that he preached sermons which encouraged those who heard to experience the gospel and the Christ.  This man ordained as an Anglican minister and who was steeped in high church liturgy did not fear emotional expressions of faith.  The messages he preached were for the head and the heart.    

The church today seems to fear a presentation of the gospel and the Christ which is to be experienced with the heart.  Thus, sermons often end up being lectures on good theology, feel good lessons about how to be better, and appeals to be involved in some ministry of social activism.  Where the church today seems lacking is in inviting its people to meet Jesus in a personal life changing experience.  Not only is the baptismal font empty of water, but there are no wet tears on its altars.   

The church that stands in the legacy of Wesley is concerned about numbers in the pew, money raised, and buildings built, but one which continues to be unembarrassed by the paltry number of professions of faith and baptisms each year.  Such a church may survive for a long time, but it will eventually die from within like the Shakers of long ago who chose celibacy as a way of life.