The Unfolding Future

The future is always unfolding before us.  It can be predicted that it will unfold with a certain amount of surprise and unpredictability.  There will be times when we will wish that we could push the future further into the future and there will be times when we will gladly welcome its coming.  Like the river which flows from mountain spring to vast ocean, there is nothing we can do to stop its movement from what can be seen to what cannot be seen.  The beginning of our future we can see in our past.  The end of our future cannot be seen as it moves into eternity.    

To pause midst a field of gravestones in our hurried journey from where we have been to where we are going can often help put in perspective our past, our present, and our future.  In such a pause we are put in position of knowing the fragile nature of our life.  We see the sum of our living in two dates separated by a dash.  There is no mention of what we have accumulated.  There is no listing of degrees and accomplishments.  We are reminded that we leave the world with what we brought into it.  It is also a place for listening to the wind of the Spirit as it stirs our soul telling us that while the physical has been returned to the earth, the spirit roams freely in the heavenly place.  

Even as it was said of Jesus on that Resurrection morning, "He is not here, He is risen!" so do we know to be true of those we have turned loose for the moment of being taken hold by our Savior, Jesus the Risen One.  The pause midst the gravestones is not just a sign of what is finite, but a call to look with faith into the unfolding future which has within it the unseen reality of our eternal home.  We may stand there cherishing memories of the past, but to stay a moment is to discover the ways the Spirit gives us glimpses of what is for those we remember and what is still to come for those of us who wait for the unfolding future.

The Glory of God

We are meant to live our lives in such a way as to bring glory to God.  This is not just something which takes place on Sunday morning, or when we stand midst the religious icons and holy incense.  It is not something meant for certain times or specific places.  In Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, he wrote, "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God."  (I Corinthians 10:31). While we understand the culture considerations which are being discussed in this text, it is also a Word which transcends culture and tradition in its reminder that no matter how basic an act, it should be done for the glory of God.  

The truth is we want to separate the ordinary from the extraordinary.  We want to create a wide division between what is regarded as sacred and what is regarded as profane.  We want to give certain spiritual practices a greater value than some of the things we do daily to sustain life.  What the Apostle Paul is declaring to the early church is that everything we do is a means by which we can glorify God.  If the very basic act of eating and drinking can be done to glorify God, then any and everything is a means of doing it as well.  

In "The Pursuit of God" A.W. Tozer wrote, "It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular, it is why he does it.  The motive is everything."  If we give our life to God, if we "...present (our) bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God..." (Romans 12:1), then our life becomes a sanctified life set apart totally for the use of God and, therefore, whatever we do, regardless of how menial or profane it might be seen, is a means of bringing glory to God.  For the believer living to bring glory to God is not something done only on Sunday in the sanctuary, but everywhere God gives us breath to live and energy to move.  As surely as the heavens brings glory to God by being the heavens, so are we called to bring glory to Him by being His creation.

Nice to Know

There are times when I am truly amazed at the freshness of the Word.  At this point in my life, being surprised is not something which should surprise me.  It has happened enough that the surprise dimension of the Word should be a normal expectation.  I have often given witness to a time after retirement when the Lord spoke to me while I was on my knees pulling weeds in the garden.  Deep from within me came two words which I heard then and have since that day believed to be the voice of the Lord speaking to me.  "Pay Attention," is what He told me.    

It was a moment which made such an impression on me that it has become my post retirement spiritual mantra.  I have a gift mug on my desk with those words printed on its side in big bold black letters.  I know that the word, "mantra" comes from Hinduism and Buddhism, but it is a word which works for me to speak of a personal embracing of what I have come to know as a powerful spiritual word which is never far from my conscious thoughts.  So, what has all this to do with being surprised by the Word of God.  Today after all these years, I saw external validation of the Word received in the garden years ago.  Interestingly enough it was a Word spoken by Jesus after He told the parable of the sower.  It might also be regarded as a parable from a garden.  This Word which I call external validation of that Word I heard in my garden comes from Mark 4:24 where it says, "And He (Jesus) said to them, 'Pay attention to what you hear..."   

It reminds me of a scene in "Fiddler on the Roof" where Tevye ask Golde, his wife, if she loves him.  Until that moment it is not something they have discussed, but in this scene they acknowledge that they love one another and sing together, "It doesn't change a thing, but even so after twenty five years, it is nice to know."  What I read today in the gospel of Mark does not change a thing about how I feel about the Word spoken in the garden, but it is nice to see it in print in words attributed to Jesus.

A Nightime Prayer

"Holy God.  Loving Father.  Thank You for all You have done....for all You are doing.  The grace You give is more than I can comprehend.  It is ever present.  Even when You must feel forgotten, You still look upon me with favor.  Lord God, I know not enough words of gratitude.  I am humbled by how lavish Your care is for me and how there is truly no end to Your mercy.  Without it I would have been undone a long time ago.    

Thank you, too, for awakening me to pray this night.  You have entrusted to me caring and praying for so many people.  More than I can number.  Their names often seem like the stars in the heaven.  They are like me.  Vulnerable.  Fragile.  Often not sure about what is ahead.  I pray for them.  For a dear one one whose life is disrupted by the uncertainty of illness, I pray.  For a life long friend who is entrusted with care giving, I pray.  I pray for wanderers who are struggling to find their way home to You.  For those who are caught up in the darkness of grief, I pray.  Lord, have mercy on the ones who have heard unsettling news today...whose hearts are troubled. Keep in a safe place those for whom I pray as friends entrusted to me by You.  For a loved one whose body is broken by an injury, I pray in these moments.  I pray, too, for a man whose wife is separated from him by the red tape of government.  Lord, have mercy.

Father God, there are so many.  I am grateful You know the ones who abide in my heart whom I hold up to You.  You know because You have placed them there.  I know I am here now because of the prayers of so many who have been faithful to pray for me.  I thank You for them...those who pray from the heavenly place and those who still wait here on earth.  May we all know what it is to be held in Your hands, Holy Father.  May we all know what it is to be wrapped up in the arms of Your love.  For these moments in the stillness of the night, I am grateful.  Amen."

Soaking

Oswald Chambers who is best known to us as the writer of the devotional classic, "My Utmost for His Highest,"  was the administrator and teacher of the Bible Training College in London.  During its four year existence before WWI, it was a spiritual training ground for over 120 students who studied and went into the mission field.  In his writings Chambers often spoke of the College as a place for "soaking."  Under the care and leadership of Oswald Chambers, the students found themselves in a college which not only provided instruction, but also a spiritual soaking where they could be equipped by the Holy Spirit for His work through them.   

"Soaking" is such a wonderful image.  Soaking speaks of being immersed for an extended time.  The soaking takes place in a change agent.  Most of us need more soaking time.  In an ideal world we would go away from home to some retreat center and spent a weekend or a week under the guidance of a spiritual director, but the ideal world is not where we live.  We live in a world where a living has to be provided, children have to be reared, and schedules are too filled.  If any kind of spiritual soaking is going to take place in our lives it is likely to come out of our own initiative and from the time we set aside for spiritual devotions.   

Allowing the image of soaking to guide us might enable us to use a set aside devotional time differently.  Our normally structure times of devotion could become a time not of doing spiritual stuff, but of learning how to sit and listen to the stirrings of the Spirit.  Instead of reading chunks of Scripture, a verse or two could become a focal point for meditation for several days, or even a week.  The idea would be allowing the Word to become digested instead of just being tasted.  Our usual devotional time could become a time of seeking whatever change might come to us by being immersed in the divine change agent, the Holy Spirit. 

The Holy Place

In the church tradition of which I am a part, Holy Communion is still offered to folks who kneel at the altar with outstretched hands.  Of course, expediency has taken hold in many places as people file by the servers and have a walk by experience.  There is no question about the walk by communion being quicker, but some things are not meant to be hurried.  This morning the Sacrament was offered at the church where I worshiped.  Even though the Table ritual began at noon, I was grateful for a moment to kneel at the altar and receive the holy meal.   

When I was growing up, altars were used much more than they are today.  Back then preachers were more likely to invite people to use the altar as a place of response to God.  It was a place where people gathered to pray.  It was a place where people knelt in life changing encounters with Jesus.  It was a launching place for many who responded to God's call to ministry in the church or in some mission field.  It was a place where people knelt to receive anointing oil and prayers for their healing.  When some tragedy touched the community, people not only gathered in the church, but also around its altar.   

As the years went along, I began to see the altar of the church as a place which provided an intersection between God's grace and human need.   If I could change one thing about today's church culture, restoring the altar to an important place in the life of the church would be one of the things high on my list.  Though getting down and getting up is not as easy as it was when I was young, I still love to kneel at that holy place.  I love to see the gathered people become the kneeling people.  I am reminded as  people  kneel in a place made sacred by generations of praying people that the Spirit who has worked in the hearts of those of the past will work in the hearts of those in the present day.  I love being there when He does.

The Good Way

When we started the faith journey years ago, we carried with us our favorite verse.  If asked about it, we were quick to pull it out for a recitation.  After awhile of walking with Jesus and letting the Word soak into our spirit, we are more likely to ask "Which one?" when asked about a favorite verse.  As the years add up, we start carrying not one, but many.  One of the most recent verses which has been added to my favorite list is Jeremiah 6:16.  It says, "Thus says the Lord:  Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths where the good way lies in it, and find rest for your soul."    

Perhaps, it is a verse which has more appeal for folks like me whose hair has gone from black to gray to white.  It is certainly true that age has given me a perspective which would have been impossible to see fifty years ago.  One of the things this passage does is to create images of moments and choices which come to all of us as we navigate the roads of faith.  More and more do I find myself wanting to touch the ancient ways of faith which have stood the test of time and more and more do I want to walk that way.   It is the way of some of the Biblical giants and the more contemporary saints.  It is the way I shunned for a more modern way when young and the way I find myself now eagerly seeking.   

A memory of a time of upheaval and darkness is in my not too distant past and while I have walked beyond its shadow, I remember seeking a spiritual tradition other than my own where I could be immersed in ancient liturgical prayers and where the Holy Meal was offered at each gathering time.  These ancient ways brought healing ointment to the brokenness within me.  When we stand at the crossroads of life, it is a good thing to look for the crowd that esteems the core values of our faith and to go in the good way they have walked. 

Starting Over

Starting over is never easy, but is always necessary.  We do not always see the starting over moments as transition moments from where we where to where we are going.  If we do see, we often push back against them trying to hold to what is behind instead of letting go so we can move into the future that is unfolding.  It is also true that our fear of what is out there just beyond what we can see causes us to ignore the reality of a starting over moment pressing down upon us.  We often only see starting over moments in the big changes of our life which send it spiraling down a road not anticipated and miss them in the daily ordinary moments which may be pulling us away from the past even before we are able to see them.  

When Saul was holding the coats of the stone throwers who were killing Stephen, something was taking place in his life which he could not see and if he could have seen it, he would have fought it tooth and nail.  It was only on the road to Damascus that the starting over moment begun with the stoning of Stephen became so visible to him that he was blinded by it.  At the moment of the blinding light, Saul probably did not think of what was happening as a moment of starting over, nor did he likely connect it to the seed planted as he held the coats of murderers of Stephen.    

It should not surprise us that God works in such a way in our lives.  In the most unpredictable and surprising ways, He brings into visibility a new reality which He had been unfolding in our presence for a long time.  We simply did not want to see the new thing God was doing in our life because we were so comfortable with what He had been doing.  When we find ourselves grieving over some ending and lamenting the changes it seems to be pushing heavy upon us, it may be a moment for pausing, looking for the wind of the Spirit that is pushing us away from where we were to where we are still to go, and then, going with it.

"Me and Jesus"

Some folks talk about their Christian faith as "me and Jesus."  It is a comment which is usually followed with a declaration of independence from the church.  The "Me and Jesus" folks have no need for those Sunday hypocrites who get together in churches.  The "Me and Jesus" people are those who prefer the river, or the golf course, or any place other than the church building.  These folks need no one but Jesus.  "Me and Jesus" makes for a very small community.  

While the "Me and Jesus" person may be espousing what is thought of as a very personal faith, it is actually a distortion of the Christian way.  It is a way Jesus never intended.  He did not call one disciple, or two, but twelve.  He invited each one to live with Him and the rest of the group as a community bound by their devotion to Him.  Each one of those twelve made a commitment to Jesus and to the others when they started the journey.  It was not a perfect group.  They lived with egos that got in the way of community living.  They argued over who was the greatest and who should get seats of honor.  They were at times guilty of saying one thing and living another.  In many ways they modeled a prototype of the church before it was called into being.  Certainly, they looked a lot like those Sunday hypocrites who get together in churches.  

Surely, Jesus called the community of the twelve into being as a way of teaching that disciples do not live alone.  The "Me and Jesus" model simply does not work.  It does not fit the mold laid out by Jesus for His followers to embrace.  We need one another.  We need a community for fellowship, worship, and service.  "Me and Jesus" see no feet to wash.  They cannot hear the sounds of worship or the celebrations of life.  They are claiming the cross as God's gift to them and them alone when it is His gift to the whole world.

A Hard Discipline

One of the Lenten disciplines is self-examination.  It is a spiritual discipline which requires a different kind of effort than reading the Scripture or praying.  Both of these have a degree of specificity about them that is both visible and measurable.  It could be said that such disciplines are external while the discipline of self-examination is definitely a work with the internal and invisible part of us.  It is also a more subjective spiritual discipline than some.    

What might make it an easy thing would be to think that self-examination requires no more than measuring the external dimensions of our spiritual life.  For example, does spiritual discipline point us toward measuring how many chapters of Scripture we are reading this year as compared to a year ago, or is it about looking at the calendar and counting up the number of Sundays we are worshiping compared to the last Lenten season?  This may be valid concerns, but the to enter into self-examination certainly requires walking in deeper water.  To this day the preachers after the discipline of John Wesley are asked at ordination, "Are you going on toward perfection?  A similar kind of question might be framed with the question, "Am I still confessing the same sins that I have always confessed?  Others might be, "How am I experiencing God differently now?" or "How is that I am hearing God speak to me and what I am doing about what I am hearing?   

There are no prescribed questions which fit each one of us, but each one of us knows where it is that our heart still has too many rough edges.  We also know where it is that we find ourselves confessing, "I know what to do.  I know the right thing, but I am just not ready to do it yet.  Why is this true?  Self examination is a hard one.  It may even require the help of some trusted friend who can listen and speak truth to us.  It is always true that these spiritual disciplines which cause us to do serious heart work are the toughest and many would rather find an easier way.

Journey of the Heart

In the mid years of my ministry while I was serving the Vidalia Church, I preached a six month series on the letter Paul wrote to the Romans.  It provided me meaningful preaching text for the year, but it also forced me to do a more intense study of a section of Scripture.  It could be said that I did it for the church, but I also did it for me.  I kept those sermons for a long time.  Somewhere in the move into retirement, the sermons got lost.    

I wish I still had them.  It would be interesting to read something I did over twenty years ago to see if I would say it differently.  I have a feeling the years might cause me to say or express things differently.  From the very beginning of my preaching ministry, I would stick a copy of a preached sermon in a file.  I remember somewhere along the way looking back at those first few years of preaching and being amazed that I preached what was on the paper and that anyone stayed to listen.  One thing learned, and there have been many things learned along the way of being a disciple of Jesus, is that things change.  The Word surely stays the same, but every time we come to it, we come to it looking through a lens never before used.  Our changing view of the world and our experience does not change what the Word says, but it can cause us to read it differently.  

The longer we live and study the Word, the more we see the grace of God between the lines.  We see more kindness.  We tend to be more generous in our own giving of grace and less judgmental.  In some ways the the life lived in these retirement years has brought along with it an awareness of how much God's grace has blessed me and how I need to be more grace giving of others.  This journey with Christ is always a journey.  Sometimes it takes us to different geographical places and other times it is a journey of the heart.

Trust Not Your Gut

Advice often given in these days is "Trust your gut."  May I suggest it is not good advice.  The "gut" can be trusted to tell you if you are hungry, or if you have eaten too much.  It can tell you if you have eaten some bad food.  It usually speaks to us with a rumbling sound, or as in the case of eating bad food, a voice that is far worse.  Trust your gut on matters pertaining to the digestion process, but when it comes to making choices that require intuitive awareness, trust your spirit.  

As the gut is the voice for digestive matters, so is the spirit the voice to be sought when we need to know what is in keeping with the core values which were instilled within us when God put His hand upon us at conception.  We were not created without thought.  We were not pushed from the womb of our mother to live carelessly, without regard for right and wrong, and unconcerned about caring for those around us.  We can trust the spirit within us to push us toward those core values that reflect living that is both responsible and grateful.  To live according to the purpose for which we were created not only speaks of responsible living, but it is also an expression of abiding gratitude to the Creator God for bringing us into being.   

The Word of God reminds us that our life is best lived when we live according to our purpose.  It is best lived when we allow God's Spirit an abiding place within us.  To provide space in our life for God is not just some religious or spiritual duty, but it is the only way we can truly live as we were intended to live.  We are not created to live separate from the Creator, but to always live mindful of our connection and our dependence upon Him.  To embrace the spiritual life is to embrace this reality which directs us to the essence of who we are.  We can trust our spirit to be the source of guidance for our life for it is where the Holy Spirit desires to abide in our life and from that place within us, He is always going to direct us according to the Creator's purpose for us.

A Song for Every Day

"This is the day that the Lord has made" is a song often sung in worship and when it its refrain is lifted, we are likely to see people swaying just a bit and singing with a little more gusto.  Of course, it is a song which comes straight from the book of Psalms.  Psalms 118:24 records it.  "This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."  It is interesting that David spoke its words into existence centuries ago.  It is also interesting that some of our contemporary music fans who disdain singing hundred year old hymns take such pleasure in a song which is truly ancient.   

Do you suppose that David sang the song in every day of his life?  Was he singing it when he was hiding in a cave from Saul?  Did he sing it when his son, Absalom, died?  Did he sing it when Nathan came as the voice of Lord to confront him with his sin?  Did he sing it when he was betrayed by those he thought loyal?  Did he sing it when he saw the slaughter of war?  Did he sing it when his heart was broken?   While we can never really know, it is something to think about as we read the story of David.   

It is also something to think about as we review our own life.  Is is a song which sounds forth from our heart when all the props are knocked out from under us?  Is is a song we sing when we let go of those we love?  Is it a song we sing when there is not a ray of sunshine, but only some dark storm which seems greater than our ability to stand in the midst of it?  If we are honest with ourselves, we may confess that we sing it selectively; yet, it still remains true that every day is a gift from God.  Every day comes to us after passing through the hands of God.  Actually, it is not just a song for the good days, but for every day.

Pretend Worship

After preaching for 43 years, it took some time to become accustomed to sitting in the pews.  What afflicted me at first was a certainty that all the good preachers had retired with me.  Next came a serious case of "there is a better way of doing everything."  One of the things I learned during those years is that it is hard to really worship with the people of God when you are infected with a critical and judgmental spirit.  Every now and again that spirit shows itself when I settle in my place in the pew, but it is mostly gone now except as a memory.    

We do need to be careful what we take to worship.  Jesus points this out to us in one of His Sermon on the Mount teachings.  "So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift."  (Matthew 5:23-24). The prophet Amos spoke of how displeased God is when we come to worship focusing on the external acts of worship without looking at our hearts.  "let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream."  (Amos 5:21-24).  

As we hear the prophetic words of Amos, we must remember that righteousness is not some super spiritual condition, but instead is a word that speaks of being in a right relationship with God and those around us.  I remember from one of my churches two men had such ill will toward each other that they would not come to the table together for Holy Communion.  With that in their hearts, I often wondered why they came at all.  What we bring with us to worship is important.  It may be the difference between worship that is acceptable and pleasing to God and pretend worship.

The Failure of Effort

Some of us have read the "fruit of the Spirit" passage the Apostle Paul wrote long ago and figured we could make it happen in our life.  What we discovered very soon is that determination and will power was not the viable word.  As we found out after times of trying to make ourselves into someone whose life reflected these qualities or virtues, the operative word was surrender.  It was a case when "my will" was insufficient and "His will" pointed to the only way.  We know the passage well.  "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control."   (Galatians 5:22-23)

Where we have trouble is in the unguarded moments when spontaneous response takes the place of a planned response.  We may be loving and gentle in moments anticipated and for which we feel prepared, but let someone come along with something which goes against the grain of our plans or expectations, and something other than the fruit of the Spirit may surface.  The words Paul wrote are not about a plan for action, but about what the Holy Spirit can do in our life when we have surrendered it to His agenda.  

What the Spirit seeks to do is a transforming work of grace which shapes our spirit so that it begins to resemble the heart of Christ.  The more we allow the Spirit to control our life, the more we will naturally respond to the unplanned moments with the grace inherent within this fruit of the Spirit passage.  This passage from Galatians points us toward a way of life and not toward creating certain spiritual virtues in our life.  The way of life to which Paul points us can be realized in our life, but it will never be the result of our efforts, but according to our willingness to submit ourselves completely to His will. 

Flowing Rivulets

There have been times when the Kingdom of God has made itself know in our midst like a mighty tsunami that changed the landscape forever.  When Jesus taught about the Kingdom of God, He likened it to simple ordinary things which moved in inches.  Like a tiny mustard seed is the Kingdom.  At other times He spoke of it as something hidden such as a treasure in a field.  In contrast to these images there is the Day of Pentecost when the Kingdom of God poured upon the earth and into the hearts of people in such a way as to literally change the world.  There have also been other dramatic and powerful movements of the Spirit through revivals such as the Great Awakening, or through the persuasive ministry of some of the spiritual giants who have stood revealing a Kingdom powerfully advancing.   

Still another way to think about the Kingdom is to image a pool of water that is spilling over not in a torrent, but as a hundred rivulets of water slowly moving away from its source.  Such has been the history of the spiritual community known as the church.  What started with the twelve called to be disciples and Apostles has steadily grown in numbers as the message of Jesus went forth from Jerusalem to the churches of Asia Minor to Rome and to the rest of the world.  Steadily it has grown and gone.  If something appeared as a barrier, the Spirit pushed and created another channel for it to flow.  

The Kingdom of God invisible to some and powerfully present to others has prevailed into the present moment and though some speak of its demise, it is of God and will prevail in the the form He has designed for it. Today it is not the twelve who advance the Kingdom, but millions of folks like us whose lives have been radically transformed by an encounter with the living Christ.  Because of that encounter, we are not the same and the places where we move as a modern rivulet of living water can never be same as well

Easter is Coming

Lent is traditionally a season of preparing new converts for their baptism.  In its earlier days it was also a season when those who had through their sin separated themselves from the church could be restored.  Easter was and still is a traditional time for baptisms in the church.  In many places the baptisms have been moved to Palm Sunday or another Sunday since Easter is such a busy Sunday.  Folks still want to be in worship on Easter which is a good thing, but when the lunch bell at noon rings they also want to be set free to get to the eatery of choice.  Baptisms and the ritual that goes with them gets in the way of that process.   

Even at there is something unique and special about the ashes of Ash Wednesday, so is it true that there is something special about the water of baptism on Easter.  For the church to baptize new converts into faith in Jesus Christ on Easter is to step into a stream of new life that has touched and overwhelmed new believers for centuries.  In a era when old is defined as yesterday, it is good to be able to share in a spiritual ritual which has given life to the church since the days of its beginning.  When today's contemporary church culture shuns the rituals of faith that have had sustaining power for centuries, something of spiritual value is lost which cannot be replaced by some trendy substitution that will be used today and changed again tomorrow.   

Baptism is a singularly important important moment in the spiritual life of the believer.  It is also a singularly important moment in the life of the church.  In days gone by the congregation would gather at the river to share in the moment when some soul symbolically had their sins washed away.  Whether at the river or at the baptismal font, it is a serious and sacred moment which calls for celebration, but not frivolity. 

A Debt to Wesley

Back in 1971 I signed on as a Methodist preacher.  Methodist preachers were then appointed by the Bishop to go where they were assigned by him.  It was nothing like the call system which enables each church to decide who is going to be their preacher.  In this system, called the itinerant system, the preacher goes where sent.  The upside for the preacher is that he or she is guaranteed a place to preach and serve.  I remember my Dad, also a Methodist preacher, going to Annual Conference where such decisions were finalized, and calling home to tell us where we were going to be moving the next week.   

Over the years of my ministry, the system softened to allow for preachers to have input through a consultation process though the Bishop still had the final word.  There were times when the system seemed to break down as larger churches started sending their preference to the Bishop who seemed to be guided by their request.  During these last fifty years it often appeared that larger more monied churches were treated differently than some of the smaller struggling congregations.  Of course, all of this is simply a personal perception which may not have anything to do with reality.   

A recent note from a life long friend and colleague in ministry sent me down the rabbit hole of reflection.  I will be the first one to admit that the Methodist Church was a flawed church when I was ordained.  It remains so.  I also know that I am a Wesleyan.  John Wesley's theology is the foundation for what I believe.  I will always be a debtor to the church that baptized me, introduced me to Jesus, blessed my marriage, educated me, and gave me a place to preach and serve Christ.  I do not overlook or ignore what I believe to be a dangerous move toward becoming a church influenced too much by the consensus of culture instead of the Holy Spirit, but it is still the church of my spiritual roots as well as where I experience family.  For this church I pray that the heart and spirit of Wesley will always shine as a beacon beckoning us forward. 

The Bothersome Thing

I am a small town guy.  Big cities seem like roaring beasts.  A city is a place empty of silence and filled with the constant roar of expressway traffic.  Whenever some green space gets too green, bulldozers and builders congregate to cover more dirt with concrete so another towering building can be sent skyward.  Night time lights hide stars and moon, people live at elbow length without knowing one another, and walls become canvases for graffiti artist.  The modern urban environment simply overwhelms the senses of this man whose heart belongs to the small town.    

What makes me most uncomfortable about the city is something which is never seen in the small town I call home.  In the small town which has my post office box there is no homeless community.  There are no people with cardboard signs at the only intersection of my town.  There are no tent communities filled with folks pushing shopping carts.  It always jolts something deep inside of me when I come to the end of a busy city street and find my field of vision filled with tents and makeshift shelters which surely cannot provide protection from the rain.  Any sense of personal comfort is shattered in a moment.  One part of me says I should do something.  Another part says there is nothing I can do.  I suppose I could see and not see, but once seen is always seen.  

What is also true is that once we walk with Jesus and listen long enough to what He is saying about caring for the poor among us, we cannot live without knowing that we have heard what we do not want to hear.  When confronted with what was seen as an impossible task of feeding five thousand hungry people, the disciples wondered what to do and Jesus said, "....you give them something to eat..."  (Matthew 14:16). What is most bothersome about the whole business is that He is still saying the same thing to us. 

Hearing and Action

Some verses of Scripture bring comfort to us.  To think of verses that bring comfort is to remember the 23rd Psalm.  A verse which has led many a soul to the altar is John 3:16.  Other verses are like south Georgia sandspurs.  Sandspurs are pesky, tenacious, and painfully bothersome.  A sandspur will get picked up on your jeans, go with you to the house, go through a washer and dryer cycle, and be right there to stick you the next time you put on those clean blue jeans.    

So has been my relationship with I John 3:17-18 which says, "How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action."  I read those words, think I have responded rightly, and then run into a situation which sticks me again in such a way that the only thing I can say is, "Lord, have mercy."  There was a moment a few days ago when I sensed that I should give my coat away, but by the time the thought made the journey from my head to my heart, it was too late.  Before that missed opportunity the Lord spoke a word about caring not for the entire homeless community, but for some individuals who come my way and I continue to ponder the plan instead of acting on it.   

Those of us who have a relationship of sorts through this blog are part of an affluent community.  We may not count ourselves among the world's richest, but we have more than what can be defined as our basic needs.  There are those around us who do not have enough.  Most of us live with a surplus.  Jesus has a word for us that we not only need to hear, but one which should push us into action. 

Sabbath Musings

Another Sunday is winding down.  There have been more Sundays in my life than I can count.  Long before I ever entertained thoughts about what it meant to "Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy..." (Exodus 20:8), I knew by way of my Mother and Daddy that it was a special day. My Daddy who was an avid fisherman said, "No fishing on Sunday...give the fish a day of rest" and my Mother made it very simple by saying, "You can't do anything on Sunday."  Growing up in the days when the "Blue Laws" were still on the books meant Sunday was a day mostly spent at home.  Having any kind of fun was taboo. 

Years later it got a bit more complicated.  The preacher this morning preached on the text in which talked about Jesus getting in trouble with the Pharisees of His day.  They thought it wrong for Jesus to heal a man on the Sabbath.  By their rules, the broken man could wait another day to be healed.  Jesus, of course, disagreed as He was one guided by a way of life which declared that the most important thing in life was to love God completely and to love those around Him as well.  According to the morning sermon, the most important thing we have to do on the Sabbath is to live as one guided by what we know as the great commandment, the one about putting love in action anytime and everywhere.   

Maybe keeping the Sabbath holy is not so complicated.  Maybe it is a day in which we are to live loving God with all our being and our brothers and sisters as well.  In doing so we bring more honor to God than we do by slipping around doing things we hope He is not seeing.  We may even be doing more to honor Him through our loving than we do on those Sundays when we sit in church and do all the right looking things for all the wrong reasons.

Spiritual Uneasiness

From time to time, a sense of spiritual uneasiness settles down upon us.  It does not necessarily come because we have stepped out of our walk with Jesus, nor does it necessarily point to some major moment of disobedience in our life.   It may also be a way that God has of telling us we need to pay attention.  Like Jonah, we may be hearing some Word from God we do not want to hear.  There may be in us some hesitation about taking a step into the future that we, in the deep places of our heart, know He is unfolding before us.  

Remember Ananias?  He certainly had his moment of uneasiness when He heard the Lord telling him to go look for Saul of Tarsus who had come to Damascus to possibly take him and other believers like him bound in chains back to Jerusalem.  This is evident as we hear him saying into today's English, "Lord, do you know what You are talking about?"  What he knew he heard, he did not want to do and when such a moment comes to us, it is likely that we will experience spiritual uneasiness until the issue is settled with God.  The One who called us into bring does not always lead us toward what we want to do, but toward what He wants us to do.  

Let there be no question here.  What we want and what God wants are often two very different things.  When we signed on as a disciple in the beginning, we signed on for a journey to wherever and whatever.  In our act of saying "Yes" to Jesus in the quiet place of our heart as well as in the act of baptism, we declared,  "Not my will, but Yours be done."  When that spiritual uneasiness settles down on our soul, it may be a sign that we have paused in front of a moment when our abandonment to Christ is not being tested, but measured.

The Long Road

When I look back, I see a long road.  My first thoughts about God came around age seven, baptism at the altar of a Methodist Church came at age nine, and just before I got out of high school I said "Yes" to Jesus with enough stickability to take me to the present day.   This is not to say there were not those moment of losing sight of the way.  Neither can I say not say that my life has been empty of free falls from my faith.  It has not by any means been a perfect journey, but it has been the one I have had as I sought to follow Jesus.   

There were times He should have looked behind at my spiritual meandering and said "Enough.  Let that one go his way," but He never did.  I have been the recipient of more forgiving grace than the prodigal son, been given more than my share of daily provision when there was very little in the pantry, and been turned around and pointed in the right way far more than Simon Peter.  I have always said that on the day when God called me to preach, He was scraping the bottom of the barrel and with such a conviction I will go to my grave.  

It still amazes me to look back on the road and see where God chose to use me and allowed me to be part of what He was doing in His Kingdom.  I am humbled from time to time as I hear voices from the past speak of God coming to them while I was with them.  It has been a long journey that is still unfolding.  More and more do I understand how the Apostle Paul could write, "I do not consider that I have made it on my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus."  (Philippians 3:13-14)

The Blessing of Grace

Since coming to the farm, I have learned to expect God to reveal Himself and even to speak through the creation in which I live immersed.  It is not something I have always been able to do.  I suppose I was too busy with work and too bounded by my view of what someone like me built that blocked my view of the distant horizon.  It could be said that the world was a much smaller place without an unhindered view of the sprawling creation.  Not everyone can live in the country as I do.  Not everyone would be content with a town with one caution light and the post office trip being one of the more exciting things of the day.   

I count being here during this season of my life as a gift of grace.  I am privileged and blessed.  What I experience each day I wish could be the daily anticipation of everyone, but then as this old country boy could not be content in the urban world, neither could the urban dwellers be content with life here.  When I first came here, I must confess to not seeing things around me as I see them now.  It took a word from the Lord which told me "Pay Attention" and then learning to see and hear with eyes of the heart.  

What has truly surprised me about the whole journey is not just the way God has been making Himself know in the ordinary things of the creation, but also the way He has made me more attentive to people.  I still have miles to go in laying flair ups of prejudice, impatience with others, and judgement passing in the rear view mirror.  About all I can honestly say is that I am not where I was, nor am I where I hope to be, but to remember the words of the Apostle Paul, "(I) strain forward to what lies ahead,..I press on..." (Philippians 3:13). As I do, I am so very grateful for God's grace.

The Rest of the Story

Hurrying seldom pays off.  Yesterday I was given a lesson about hurrying to get somewhere.  My reason for hurrying was to get to a doctor appointment on time.  I wolfed down breakfast, spoke the language of hurrying which only creates anxiety, and then suffered a major patience breakdown every time traffic required slowing down.  Amazingly, I arrived with fifteen minutes to spare.  At my appointment time I was in the exam room waiting for the doctor to appear.  I sat there and sat there and sat there some more.  An hour and fifteen minutes later the doctor walks in, apologizes for the delay, and then gets down to business.    

I could not believe that all my hurrying was wasted.  I got there early and then had to wait for over an hour.  Does God have a sense of humor, or not?  Maybe the long wait was not so much about humor as me doing penance for not paying attention to the many gifts God was giving me throughout the day.  If the long wait after hurrying was my punishment for not being present in the present moment and for not receiving with gratitude the gifts He was giving throughout the day, I suppose I must acknowledge it was a light punishment with a tinge of irony.    

Whether the waiting was a divine reminder about the futility of living a hurried life, I cannot say for sure, but I do know the whole day was an example of what happens when we live out of sync with the Creator and the creation in which He has immersed us.  Living in a hurry creates this internal rush of gut churning anxiety.  It also causes us to be so preoccupied with ourselves that we cannot be attentive to the needs of those around us.  We were not created to hurry.  Everything has its season and there is no need to rush any single day of anyone of them.  All it does is get us out of step with whatever it is that God might intend for us to be about in the day He is giving us.

Scrambled Eggs

Life is not meant to be lived in a hurry.  It is disrespectful of life.  It is disrespectful of the gift God is giving to us in the present moment.  This morning I ate my breakfast standing up at the kitchen counter.  Usually, breakfast is slowly and deliberately eaten at the table which has as its sole purpose providing a space for meals and conversation.  Today I disrespected my scrambled eggs.  I convinced myself that being somewhere else more quickly was more important than the moment God had given for breakfast.  Perhaps, it was not just the eggs I disrespected, but God.    

What I did not have time for in the morning was receiving and experiencing with appropriate gratitude the gift that He was giving to me.  Granted that two eggs is not much.  It is not like a bag of gold.  It is not like a bag of gold unless your pantry is empty and you have watched your children stand in front of it wondering if there was going to be anything to eat today.  This morning I disrespected two scrambled eggs.  This morning I disrespected God's gift to me.  This morning I disrespected the hunger of souls whom God has told me are brothers and sisters.   

How can I say there is nothing about which I need to repent during these holy days of Lent?  How can I move deeper into the worship being offered without coming to terms with the ugliness of the sin I see lying dormant in my heart?  The Holy Spirit has brought a latent sense of conviction to me in these evening hours.  I never expected my soul to be so exposed by two scrambled eggs.  There is nothing in all the creation that God has put in place which hurries except me, and perhaps, those like me.  "Lord, hear my confession.  Lord, forgive me.  Lord, have mercy.  Amen."

Seemed Like Easter

It seemed like Easter Sunday this morning when I opened the front door and stepped out on the porch.  Maybe it was just that it was Sunday.  Or, perhaps, it was the morning sun that followed a stormy night which filled so many with apprehension of what might be and others with the reality of what could be.  Out on the porch all those night time anxieties were pushed away by a gentle blowing wind filled with the smell of moisture in the air doused with a gracious hint of Spring.  Being out there on the front porch on the way to worship caused me to pause and say to the creation around me, "Feels like Easter!"   

It was certainly one way to describe the greeting received by all that was filling my senses in those morning moments.  The first Easter, or Resurrection Sunday, as I am prone to call it came only after a violent storm which filled the world of the cross with an overwhelming deep darkness and a shaking of the earth that tore stones apart as well as the sacred veil in the Temple.  The conflict between good and evil first seen in the Garden of Eden was like a Sunday School class compared to the conflict which took place on mount Calvary.  If ever there was a moment in which the Devil himself declared victory, it was when the bloodied and empty of breath body of Jesus was dropped from the cross.  

And if ever there was a moment when the evil one knew his power was broken and could never prevail, it was that morning when the stone was rolled away from an empty tomb and the resurrected Jesus roamed the garden.  When I stepped off the porch onto the ground on the way to worship, it seemed that I stepped into a holy space where everything that is was celebrating the good news shouted from the empty tomb.  As I said, it seemed like Easter!  Even though the days of Lent are still heavy in the air, I cannot help but say, "Hallelujah!"

A Precious Gift

The creation is a precious gift from God.  All we need to give and sustain life is wrapped up inside of it.  As we read those ancient words, "In the beginning when God created..." (Genesis 1:1), it is clear that all of creation is sacred.  Certainly, on those nights when we watch with apprehension and fear approaching violent weather, we wonder if the word "all" is truly appropriate.  Yet, even though the creation sometimes reveals a dark and mysterious dimension, we can only go back to those beginning words which assure us that nothing has been brought into being which has not first passed through the hands of the Creator.  As we consider such things, we surely live perplexed with the mystery of creation.    

What we do know is that as we live within the creation, we are immersed in sacred mystery which sustains us.  The land, the air, the water, the plant life that grows, and the animals which St Francis called our brothers and sisters all bear the markings of the sacred.  It is a sad moment when what is sacred is no longer honored as a gift from God, but something to be exploited for personal gain.  Of course, part of the dilemma we face is that we have become so disconnected from the creation.  

It is not that we fail to walk midst it with love and respect, but that we walk among it without seeing it.  We have forgotten the smell of the dirt, we no longer remember the feel of running water on our feet, and breathing deeply the fresh crispness of a new day is something we do not have the inclination to do.  God has graced us with such a wonderful gift.  It is a gift  that has a way of renewing itself each day despite our careless living.  Gratitude is best shown as we breathe in and then with the rest of creation breathe out our praise to the Creator of all that is and yet to be.

There and Here

One of the most surprising things about coming to the farm some fifteen years ago is the growing awareness of holy presence.  He comes in the unexpected.  This afternoon as the sun was being chased down to the edge of the distant horizon, a sudden wind picked up and blew against me as I worked with the tractor in the pasture.  It was a sudden moment of going from what declared itself to be a mundane task into one filled with the awareness of the Spirit. While some may speak of the moment as an expression of a vivid imagination, I have learned to be open and attentive to such times in ways that I never knew when life centered around the pulpit and the altar.    

This afternoon's revelation of presence has come too many times for me to delegate it to imagination.  As I rode along the edge of the fence line in the pasture this afternoon, I was reminded of the time I tried to slip up on God as He made Himself known  through the presence of an owl perched on a limb hanging over the fence.  There is a longer story that goes with that afternoon of revelation, but is was for me one of those earlier moments of coming to understand that the God whom I had experienced for a lifetime through the church was still present and revealing Himself through the creation instead of the brick and mortar of a building.  

What has grown strongly within me in these years of being immersed in the creation is that God is not experienced and His voice is not heard over there, or out yonder, but here in the present moment.  What I have also come to understand is that this has always been true regardless of where I have found myself.  It matters not whether we are standing on the beach watching a sunset, or at the end of an alley seeing the squalor of a homeless community.  God is present everywhere.  The Psalmist pointed us to this reality  long ago as he asked, "Where can I go from Your Spirit?  Or where can I flee from Your presence.?"  (Psalm 139:2)

Loved by the Father

When the prodigal son realized that He was loved anyway...regardless...despite how he had chosen to live...unconditionally....unreservedly...it surely must have been a moment of overwhelming gratitude.  More than just wasting his father's money, he had drug his father's honorable name through the mud and mire of degradation.  When people known to his father saw how far he had fallen, they either looked away in embarrassment for the father, or shook their heads in sorrow that their friend had such a son.    

It is not hard to imagine one of the father's friends saying to him, "If he were my son, I would let him go."  Of course, knowing the father as we do through the parable, we can well imagine him responding, "If he were your son, I would let him go, too, but he is not your son; he is my son."   I am grateful that the Father God has looked my way from time to time when it seemed even to me that He should cut me loose only to hear Him say, "I will not let him go, He is one of mine."  What a gift of grace it is to be loved by God.  

He loves as we are. He loves into who we are becoming.  His love has nothing to do with how we show our love for Him.  He loves us.  It is no wonder that so many of us rejoice in that word Paul wrote to  the church at Rome, "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life...nor things to come, nor powers..nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."  (Romans 8:38-39).  "Lord, does that include my sins?  Surely, my sins, Lord, surely my sins..."..........."No, my son, not even your sins...not even yours."

A New Window

I feel like a kid running down the stairs on Christmas morning as the sun pushes away the darkness.  A friend sent a gift that I retrieved from the post office yesterday and while I knew it was coming and while I knew what it was, there was still such excitement and anticipation.  Some would look at its nearly 3000 pages and declared it to be a "bookworm's delight."  It bears the title, "Prayer Book Offices" and says about itself in the introduction that it "has been designed for personal use in praying the Daily Office of the Church as is set forth in The Book of Common Prayer."   

It is filled with an orderly system of Scripture reading, prayers for morning, noon, and evening, orders for worship, and more than enough ritual and liturgy than I will likely read.  I receive it as a new means of creating order in my personal spiritual life.  I see it as a new window to be opened as I seek a deeper understanding of what it means to walk and live in Holy Presence.  Of course, it will provide none of these spiritual blessings if it simply sits on the book shelf as a book to admire and impress.   

Like any spiritual growth resource such as the sacred Word or a favorite devotional reading, it will do  little good if it simply collects dust on the shelf.  I remember an old gospel song from my childhood which had the words, "...get that dust off the Bible and redeem your poor soul."  Over the years I have been blessed with gifts of books from others who shared the journey with Christ.  Even as those gifts nurtured my soul so shall this new book which sits here before me on my desk.  It makes the road ahead all the more exciting!

An Unusual Suggestion

I am not a list keeper.  I have some folks in my life who worship the list and cannot figure how I can live without one.  Out of respect for their concern for me, I have tried from time to time.  Sometimes it is exciting to see one thing after another being marked off the list, but there have been more days when looking at it creates too much guilt.  Some folks are just more organized than this old preacher.  They are probably more productive, too.  I do not expect them to change and I know enough about myself to know I am not likely to become an avid "lister" of things on a list.    

One size never fits all.  It is surely true that some products come with a "one size fits all" label, but then it is seldom true.  There are exceptions to everything.  About this time of the year we start looking for what we should do with Lent.  Some folks race to what they always do.  Some folks figure the best thing to do for Lent is nothing.  Others race about the spiritual shelves looking for something which is going to lift them into a new stratosphere of spiritual growth.  The truth is most of us live better without the pressure of having to do something just because everyone else is doing something.  Most likely everyone is not doing anything.  

Whatever we decide to do, or not do, we should look no further than our own heart.  God knows our heart.  He does not require special things from us to make Him feel secure in our relationship.  I went to sleep the other day praying.  I trust He took some pleasure in the fact that I was pointed in the right direction when sleep overtook me.  My heart was pointed toward Him.  Maybe being pointed in His direction is enough for us to seek during this Lenten season.

The Slippery Slope

Being a part of a family puts an extra squeeze on the whole experience of fasting.  How does one who gathers with family at the table continue to engage in a spiritual fast without coming across as one whom Jesus described in that Sermon on the Mount teaching?  "And whenever you fast, do not look dismal...so as to show others that they are fasting." (Matthew 6:16).  It is not an easy thing to fast within family life without calling such attention to yourself that it looks like a definition of self-righteousness.    

Not showing up at family gathering moments does not seem to be the answer.  Our families are important.  Our presence with those with whom we share share such a special relationship is important and too many harmful things end up getting done in the name of religion without letting our empty plate on the table be one of them.  Sometimes we may have to simply say that a spiritual discipline which has both private and public ramifications may not be the right thing for a particular season of our life.  While this may sound like a bad compromise to some, it is always important to be sure that we do not bruise the soul of another by our intentions to nurture our own.    

The slippery slope is obvious.  Do we justify not attending worship in the same way if one member of our home objects to attending?  Do we make sure no one is watching when we pull our Bible off the shelf?  Do we allow someone's objections to keep us from sharing and expressing our faith in the public arena?  Even as we declare that the answer is "No," we also want to affirm with sensitivity our care for another.  Even as we seek to nurture our own soul, we must be sure we do not throw another soul into deep waters with a millstone around their neck.

Fasting in Lent

One of the disciplines to which the Lenten season calls us is fasting.  I must confess to having limited experience with this particular spiritual discipline, but enough to understand a little bit about it.  First of all, it must be pointed out that the purpose of a fast is spiritual.  Its purpose has nothing to do with weight loss.  If weight loss is what we are about in Lent, do not call is a fast.  Call it what it is and that is dieting.  One is about the body and the other is about the spirit.  

A second important thing to which consideration must be given is personal health.  If doing without food for an extended or unusual amount of time is putting personal health at risk, then fasting is is not a good idea.   If we are not acquainted with how our body is going to respond to a fast, it is better to start out by doing without a meal or two instead of launching out in some 40 day Jesus like fast.  The length of the fast is not as important as the reason we are entering into such a discipline.  While many good spiritual reasons might be offered for fasting, one very basic purpose should always be sharpening, or deepening our awareness of the presence of God in our life.  Some people might use the fasting discipline as a way of becoming more focused on a particular prayer concern such as the struggle of a sufferer, or a search for a way forward into what seems to be a new sense of God's unfolding plan.  

It is a good thing to keep it simple.  Fasting is not really a spiritual discipline which seeks to get some blessing from God as much as it is to seek only God's presence.  Finally, if the first attempts at fasting do not work out, there is no need to beat ourselves up about it.  God has proven Himself many times to be a God who longs more for a heart that seeks Him than one which takes pride in performance.  

Final Words

When the disciples heard Jesus talking about dying, they surely must have thought to themselves, "It cannot be!"  They had made no small sacrifice to follow this rabbi named Jesus.  They had left homes.  They had wives and, perhaps, children who were growing up.  They had left everything which had always been a part of their lives and it was incredulous for them to think that after such a short time, it was going to end.  Matthew records three specific times when Jesus told them what was going to happen in Jerusalem. "From that time on, Jesus began to show His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering...be killed, and on the third day be raised."  (Matthew 16:21, 17:22, 20:17).   

None of them believed it to be possible.  Peter actually pulled Jesus aside and with a rebuke in his voice said to Jesus, "God forbid it, Lord!  This must never happen to You."  (Matthew 16:22).  They had seen Jesus feed the five thousand, heal so many from diseases, watched him walk on water, but the boldness of this word filled with what was obviously impossible was too much to accept as a future reality.  It was a moment filled with more than just disbelieve over a certain moment, but a moment of declaring their unwillingness to accept the plan of God.  

 If we are honest with ourselves, we will admit there have been times when we were unwilling to accept the plan of God as it touched our lives.  There are things which are beyond our ability to accept as reasonable expressions of God working out a plan in our lives.  Our logical minds have questioned His judgement.  We have offered other more viable solutions and even made bargains with Him as a way of pressuring Him to see and do things our way.  Whenever it has happened, it is likely that we heard in some form or another the words Jesus spoke to Peter, "You are a stumbling block to Me; for you are setting your minds  not on divine things but on human things. (Matthew 16;23)

At the Cross

At the heart of the Apostle Paul's preaching is the word,  "...we preach Christ crucified."  (I Corinthians 1:23).  It is a hard word for preachers to preach and for those who listen to hear.  In many ways the message of "Christ crucified" is a counter culture word.  We live in an age that has convinced itself that if something is broken, we can fix it.  The message of the cross points to a brokenness which can only be fixed by external intervention. Preaching "Christ crucified" requires preaching about sin which is an outdated concept for so many who worship the psychological answers and solutions.   

To a larger degree the message of the church no longer has the power of influence as it did in earlier generations.   In an effort to draw more people under the umbrella of the church's influence, preachers are tempted to preach a "feel good" gospel which readily focuses on a loving Savior, but not necessarily a saving One.   People today seem to have an aversion to preaching that calls forth some kind of emotional response.  Sermons that teach or are entertaining have become more the norm.  

The problem is there is no way to go to the cross and see the horror of that day without our heart, the center of our emotions, being touched.  Preaching that overtly seeks an emotional response is regarded as manipulative.  Preaching trends today lean more toward "Christ, the loving Savior,"  or "Christ, the servant," or maybe, "anyone but Christ crucified."  Even as the resurrection message which is according to Scripture the central core of our faith is preached only on Easter so is it true that the only time the message of the cross might be proclaimed is on Good Friday.  What is often forgotten is that without Good Friday and the cross, there is no reason to show up with the crowds on Easter Sunday. 

The Uncomfortable Cross

When Jesus walked down the Mount of Transfiguration, He surely had the glory of the heavens resting upon His face.  As surely as His baptism culminated with an affirming vision which sent Him forth into His public ministry, so did the vision on the Mount send Him forth for the final part of the journey.  It was surely a moment which drew the attention of Jesus to the reality that His days were not only becoming fewer, but also harder.  While the cross was no surprise to Jesus, when He left the mountain it began to loom larger and larger before Him.    

Lent is a season for journeying with Jesus toward that looming cross.  While we would rather speak of the end of journey being the empty tomb, the tomb could only become a part of the narrative when the work of the cross was done.  Lent focuses on the cross.  I remember a preacher who preached a noon day service one Good Friday who said before his message, "Now I know today we remember Jesus dying on the cross, but instead of talking about such a bad thing, I am going to preach about the resurrection."  I wanted to stand and say, "Without the cross, there is no resurrection!"   

It is a strange thing the way the church wants to avoid the cross.  It does make people uncomfortable.  No one wants to confess their sins much less acknowledge them.  The Lenten invitation to repent is not something we want to do because it speaks to the fact that there is something wrong within us that can only be handled by what Jesus did on the cross. It all goes against the grain of our conviction that there is nothing we cannot handle or fix.  The gospel proclaims as a necessity the death of Jesus on the cross.  Sometimes it seems the church wants to water down that part of the story. 

Ash Wednesday, 2025

                 The Pause

 

There is a steadiness in my feet,

   a hard thudding upon the dry ground,

     relentless and unhindered they go 

       behind the One who goes just before,

         the One whose feet never hesitate

but go hard toward the waiting hill.

 

My eyes see but Him and not the hill 

    lest these feet should shirk the holy way

       of abandonment to the Father

         who waits beyond the growing darkness

             in silence until the work is done

and the deserted One cries His last. 

Seeing is knowing where I must go,

   but dare I take even one more step

     on this hard way of letting go all,

       or should this shuddering of my soul

        give me pause to count the cost again

before rough hands nail me to the cross?

The Good Stuff

When I was growing up in the Methodist Church of rural south Georgia, Lent was mostly mentioned, but not really observed.  We knew it was Lent when the coin folders were handed out on Sunday morning with a word about denying ourselves something like a coke or candy.  Each day during Lent a dime went in the coin folder and we brought them back to the church on Easter Sunday as a special mission offering.  The thought of putting ashes on our forehead as the Catholics did was just not proper Protestant behavior.   

I cannot say exactly when things began to change, but I do know by the time I got into my ministry years, Lent was a season which was more widely observed.  I remember a friend saying lightheartedly, "There is no reason to let the Catholics have all the good stuff."  There really is a lot of good stuff packed in the season of Lent.   It is unfortunate that our love affair with the spontaneous and our fear of ritual keep us from experiencing the deeper levels of meaning within the ashes of Ash Wednesday, the holy meal of Maundy Thursday, and the horror of the cross.  

Lent is also a season which calls us to be more attentive to our involvement in spiritual disciplines such as fasting, praying, reading the Word, and living generously and sacrificially.  When we truly respond to the invitation to observe a holy Lent, we find that Easter is like morning light bursting forth from the darkness and rushing over us as if a powerful wave of the Spirit has overwhelmed and immersed us in the power of the resurrection.  Lent prepares our heart for such a moment.  It would be a shame to settle for something less.

Preparation for the Journey

Lent is only hours away now.  Worship leaders have gathered the stored ashes from last year's Palm branches and are preparing themselves to mark foreheads with them as they speak the words, "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return."  Lent begins this Wednesday with the coming of Ash Wednesday.  Ash Wednesday worship is not a joyous celebration of worship which causes everyone to leave feeling good.  It is a service of remembering and there is much to be remembered.   

It is a gathering where those who come are reminded of the fragile nature of life.  It is an uncomfortable moment for many.  Where is it that we voluntarily go to hear someone mark us with gray ashes and tell us we are going to die?  It is a reminder of our need for repentance.  Repentance is only done when we acknowledge the sins of our heart to God and ourselves and then confess them as one truly sorry for our misdoings. It is also a reminder of the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross.  The cross is not just a story of injustice and tragedy, but one which reminds us that divine forgiveness requires an atoning sacrifice and the heartbreak of God.  It is not a moment to be taken lightly.   

A Word from Luke 9:51 is often read as a verse which marks the beginning of the final journey of Jesus to Jerusalem and the cross.  "When the days drew near for Him to be taken up, He set His face to go to Jerusalem."  Jesus did not go to Jerusalem and then something happened which was beyond His control.  He knew what was waiting for Him in the Holy City and with intentionality born out of obedience to the Father's will, He chose to go.  It may have been evil which put Him on the cross, but it was love that caused Him to put His life in the hands of those who meant evil and not good for Him.  As Jesus journeyed in those days with the cross upon His heart, so should we journey with Him in this holy season of Lent.

A Culture of Confirmation

On a recent trip to a bookstore, a book entitled "The Essential Tozer Collection" showed up at eye level and a voice from within said, "This is the one."  A. W. Tozer was a prominent self educated theologian and preacher who died in 1963.  One of the first things which caught my attention was something he wrote in his discussion about justification.  "The whole transaction of religious conversion has been made mechanical and spiritless.  Faith may now be exercised without a jar to the moral life and without embarrassment to the Adamic ego.  Christ may be received without creating any special love for Him..." 

It was a word which set me to thinking and I ended up writing in the margins, "We live in a culture of confirmation instead of salvation."  One of the benefits of retirement is that it has enabled me to listen to a lot of preachers.  One of the things glaringly obvious over these fifteen years is something I had noted for a much longer time.  The church offers a lot of talk about Jesus, but seldom invites people to know Jesus.  Our young are becoming part of the church culture by learning about Jesus in Confirmation groups without really choosing Jesus out of a spiritual hunger in their hearts.  It is as if salvation is of the mind and not the heart.  Too many of us preachers preach not to the heart but to the mind out of the false assumption that everyone who hears the sermon is in a heartfelt relationship with Jesus.   

If this thinking of mine has any merit, it would help us understand why the cherished mainline churches of our childhood are sliding toward extinction.  We like to say the decline is about the graying of our society, or the lack of interest younger generations have in organized religion and maybe there is a measure of truth to such observations, but could it not be that the church has become too content in teaching about Jesus?  Could it be that no one is being asked to give their heart to Jesus?  Could it be that confirmation is a poor substitute for a heart strangely warmed in conversion?

The Greater Miracle

All four of the gospel writers tell the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand.  The first three gospels (known as the Synoptic Gospels) tell it much the same.  John personalizes the event by speaking of specific disciples instead of the disciples in general.  An interesting feature of the first three is the way the disciples wanted to send the people away.  It was the only sensible thing to do in light of the great need of the crowd and the lack of anything to eat.  (Matthew 14:15).   

What Jesus said to their pragmatic thinking must have blown their minds.  "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." (Matthew 14:16). They had nothing except five loaves and two fish which was a paltry amount to feed so many.  Why it would not have even been enough to feed the twelve disciples much less five thousand people!  When Jesus responded to them by saying, "Bring them (the loaves and fish) to me," (Matthew 14:18) He says an important Word we often do not want to hear.  Basically, He told the disciples two things.  First, you do something about the need you see.  Secondly, make available what you have and it will be enough.  

What is more frightening to us?  It is one thing to see folks in need and another to personally get involved.  As frightening as that possibility is to us, the second is even worse.  Jesus wants us to give not just part of what we have, but all of what we have even it is what seems to be such a small amount.  It is the stuff of miracles.  The first miracle might be meeting an impossible need, but the greater miracle might be you and me turning loose of our stuff.

Love and Miracles

Life is not nearly as black and white as many of us might like it.  In some ways a black and white world might be easier to maneuver, but it is also a world empty of grace and mercy.  Jesus was constantly running into the black and white world that existed in the hearts of the rigid and self righteous.  In the eyes of the black and white world the decrees of the law are more important than the actions of love.  A black and white world might define right and wrong, but it also a harsh world in which to live.   

Imagine for a moment the world of the man with a withered hand whose faith in God took him to the synagogue one Sabbath only to find the supposed righteous of the community delegating him to a non person status as they made his hand the object of a theological argument.  It must have seemed to him that had he not had a withered hand, he would not have even been seen.  (Matthew 12:9-14). To add insult to injury, the righteous figured any hope he might have had for healing could wait until another day!   

Jesus was not ruffled or deterred by the rigid righteous as He said to the man, "Stretch out your hand."  (Matthew 12:13) Quicker than ever he could have thought possible, love and grace touched his hand making it as sound as the one nearly worn out from constant use.  As we stand alongside of Jesus in such a moment, we are reminded that today is the day to do what we can to help someone in need.  Love does not seek permission, only an opportunity to be given.  Whenever love is given, miracles happen.

The Edge of Knowing

To stand on the edge of knowing what is not at the moment knowable is a perplexing moment.  It often seems like a forever moment between some tantalizing aroma teasing the taste buds and the one filled with savoring the multiplicities of the flavor.  When we are are at the precipice of what is known and what is about to be known, there is little we can do except wait with faith.  Surely, there are times when God speaks to us by making us aware of something about to be, but is not yet.  

The Old Testament prophets introduce us to the way a revelation of God is announced, but delayed and Jesus did much the same as He spoke of the Kingdom of God being here and yet still to come.  It is no wonder that there are so many places in the Scripture which call us to embrace the discipline of waiting.  The Psalmist wrote, "I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His Word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning."  (Psalm 130:5-6). Waiting and watching for the morning is a good image. 

There have been times when each of us has longed for the sight of the first light announcing what is to come even though we do not know what is to come.  Perhaps, God brings us to the edge of what He is about to do so that there will be a moment of letting go of what is behind us as a way of preparing us for what is to come in the still to be revealed plan of God.  It is a strange way to consider faith, but faith is always what God requires us to pack for our journeying with Him.

An Unlikely Bunch

To follow Jesus through Matthew's gospel is to see that moment when He called two sets of brothers to become disciples.  (Matthew 4:18-22). A little later Jesus walks by a tax collector named Matthew who gets the call and rises to follow Jesus.  (Matthew 9:9). And then, there were twelve.  "Then Jesus summoned His twelve disciples..." (Matthew 10:1). As we read the list of those called, we cannot help but wonder from whence they came.  What did they leave to follow Jesus?  What was there about each one that led Jesus to call them?  Why did He call Judas?  Surely, He knew Judas was a man capable of betrayal.   

Of course, what we also know is that if such a capability eliminates someone from being called by Jesus, none of us would have heard the summons.  Maybe such is too much a generalized statement, but personal experience tells me it is true.  The longer we live, the more we realize how flawed we are and how blessed we are to be those who have been gifted by the grace of God.  It has always been my profession that when God called me to preach, He must have been scraping the bottom of the barrel, but I have for a lifetime been grateful He did not just throw away what was down there after the better choices had been made.  

Those who comprised the twelve were like all the rest of us.  Flawed is what they were.  Sometimes their egos surfaced in ugly ways as they sought special status.  Sometimes they acted as if Jesus was a stranger.  Sometimes they tried to push His plans aside to insert their own.  Sometimes they just not get what He was doing.  Yet, these were the ones entrusted with the message of the Kingdom of God.  It is always amazing to realize that each one of us have been entrusted with that work as well. 

Stop and Go Days

Some days do not seem to amount to much.  They are filled with hurried meals, commuter chaos complete with horns blowing and the possibility of stop and never seem to be going traffic, Monday morning attitudes ever day in every place, and end of the day exhaustion too deep to be overcome by one night's sleep.  To be honest is to admit some days we wish not for the road to work, but the sofa in front of the television.  At the end of those kind of days, we often find ourselves singing alone with Alfie, 'What's it all about?"  

Days do have a way of getting out of hand in a hurry.  But, actually, how the day goes is more about us than the the external things which surround us. Years ago while having a morning conversation with my sister, she told me she was sitting on the expressway waiting on traffic to start moving again.  When I said something about her day getting off to a rough start, she commented, "My day is not nearly as bad as the guy whose car is wrecked."  I have always remembered that bit of sibling wisdom.  What we carry with us and more specifically what we carry within us will make, or break the day.  

When the Apostle Paul said, "I have learned to be content with whatever I have..." (Philippians 4:11), he was speaking specifically about having either a little or a lot, but it is a word which is applicable to anything and everything which comes our way.  If he could learn to live with a little, maybe it is possible for us to learn to live with a day that is not going according to plans.  God's plan for us may include a few days of stop and go traffic that will enable us to count our blessings and be grateful.

An Uprooting

The story begins with, "...a man ran up and knelt before Jesus..." and ends with "...he was shocked and went away grieving for he had many possessions."  (Mark 10:17-22).  Inside the bookends of the story, the very religious man heard Jesus say to him, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor...then come, follow me." (Mark 10:21).  We understand and sympathize.  Whether we have a little or a lot, we think it unfair for Jesus to ask such a thing.  Like the man who came with eagerness and left with sorrow, we understand the power our stuff has over us.   

The disciples obviously were not so attached to their stuff that they could not walk away from it.  When World War I came and brought to an end the Bible Training College Oswald Chambers thought would last forever, he wrote, "It is a great thing to be detached enough from possessions so as not to be held by them, because when called to uproot it is done with little real trouble..."  The call of Jesus may not uproot us from the things we call ours, but it does require us to loosen our grip so that what was His before we claimed it as ours has been returned to Him.  

What we falsely claim as ours may be our accumulated wealth, the house which shelters us, the things which define our stuff, our position in the community, or the security systems we have built around us.  Like the would be disciple, we understand the difficulty of letting go, but we also know that the abundant life promised by Jesus is found when letting go is more important than holding tightly.

The Question of the Ages

The one thing always in motion is change.  Most of us do everything we can to hold it in abeyance, but never are we successful.   With or without us, change moves along like the water which burst forth from the mountain spring to begin its journey toward the sea.  There is no stopping it.  One of the reasons we struggle against it is that we have so much invested in the status quo.  In its continuance we have placed our hopes, our dreams, our sense of security, and even the pathway for the future.  

What is most frightening to us is not political upheaval, or the splintering of religious denominations, or the seemingly out of control sociological earthquakes, but the way we are constantly moving toward a person we do not know yet.  The question of the ages used to be, "Who am I?"  In these days the question seems framed within the words, "Who am I becoming?"  As much as we would like to talk about "being" in our faith walk, the frightening thing for many of us is not who we are as much as it is who we are becoming.  

When Jesus said, "Follow me" and we said, "Yes," we started walking not down a road of certainty, but one of unfolding change.  This walk toward becoming whom God is bringing into existence is a new adventure every day and we can only do it if we are truly dependent on God's grace to take us wherever and our faith in Him to do so.  The God of the Universe has everything in His hands, even change, and as we are changing from conception to the day He is currently giving us, we are in His sure and steady hands. 

Healing Ministry

I would not have been surprised back in my Vidalia days if some Bible thumping, tongues speaking, Pentecostal preacher had told me he had healing services in his church; but, when my good friend who was the local Episcopal rector in town told me he provided a moment every Sunday for people to come forward to receive not only prayers for their healing, but also anointing with oil, I had to pay attention.  When I paid attention, I encountered enough conviction that I started offering a monthly Sunday evening service which I called "A Service of Prayers for Healing."  

It was also a moment for reading about the healing ministry of Jesus and the way the church had either embraced it, or ignored it.  As the gospel writer Mark tells the story of the onset of the ministry of Jesus, there is one healing story after another after another.  He healed the man with the unclean spirit, Simon Peter's mother-in-law, the many who heard about it and gathered around the door of her house, a man with leprosy, and a paralytic who was lowered through the roof by four friends. (Mark 1:21-2:12)  

There is simply no way to say that Jesus did not have a healing ministry which raises an important question:  "How can the church which seeks to be an expression of Jesus in the world not offer such a ministry?"  To be honest is to admit we either ignore it, or offer it with half-hearted reservations neither of which would cause Jesus to say, "Well done."

Believe...or Not.

There is one thing everyone has to do with the Sermon on the Mount.  When the last word is uttered, we have to decide what we are going to do with it.  There are only two options.  One option is to ignore it and declare it to be irrelevant.  The second option is to accept it as a Word upon which faithfulness to Christ is built.  We either can choose to refute it, or believe it.  As the Sermon winds down to its end at the close of the 7th chapter of Matthew, those two choices are presented as Jesus spoke of listeners hearing His words and acting on them or hearing them and not acting on them.    

C. S. Lewis put the choice most succinctly as he wrote, " He would either be a lunatic—on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg—or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse."  Jesus never made it easy.  He was not interested in pleasing people in order to build the number of disciples.  The gospel of John is often called the gospel of belief because of the way it challenges people to choose either belief or unbelief.  Jesus was not a teacher who sought to cultivate fence sitters.   

While Jesus never lived in such a hurry to get where He was going that He could not stop and care for someone in need, He did live with a sense of urgency about what He was doing.  We see this in that moment described by Luke as he wrote, "When the days drew near for Him to be taken up, He set His face to go to Jerusalem."  (Luke 9:51).  Jesus surely knew His time here among us was short and there was not time to waste.  Some would choose to obey His teachings.  Some would choose to follow Him.  There is, however, never any evidence of any guilt based persuasive preaching, or chasing after someone to twist the arm of their conscience one more time.  The choice to believe and obey always belonged to the one listening even as it does today.