Taking Inventory of Wonder

When I hear or read the name "Wendell Berry," I stop and take note.  I have read many of his novels, poems, and essays that reflect his commitment to the land and the agrarian lifestyle.  I have never been disappointed by a writing which bears his name.  Today I heard a quote attributed to him which I wish I could put in context, but, unfortunately, it has not been possible to find.  Actually, it is just a phrase, but it speaks volumes.  "Taking inventory of wonder" is a phrase attributed to a discipline practiced by Berry at the end of the day.  

To "take inventory of wonder" each day would create a time for us to remember each day's blessing, the events that have blessed, and the people within those events who have brought blessing to us as well.  It is a discipline which has within it the way to gratitude.  What is true is that we often end our day with an exhaustion that says, "I made it through one more day.  Maybe I can do it tomorrow."  We need no one to tell us there must be a better way to live.  In our better days we know that even in the worst of things there are things which call for gratitude.  No amount of darkness can take the wonder out of our day.  The wonder in our life is about grace.  

We live in a world where we are loved. We live in a world where the creation all around us continues to astound us.  We have a measure of success and prosperity which is not just about our efforts, but about the gifts of God which have filled our lives.  Anyone who cannot end the day without knowing that the day has been filled with things of wonder is blind to the goodness of God and the way grace comes to us for no reason except it is grace.  Today is another day for "taking inventory of wonder."

Carrying the Word

It is a good thing to carry some Scripture with us every day.  This is not to say, we should carry our Bibles with us everywhere we go though it is not a bad idea.  A few minutes here and there reading the Word would surely be more beneficial to us than looking at social media sites on our hand held devices.  Of course, as soon as such is mentioned, there will be someone to suggest that the Scripture can be carried with us and read on those devices.  True enough, but not likely.  It sounds a little fishy to me, like the story some folks always told about the river being a sanctuary on Sunday morning!   

Actually, one of the best places to carry the Scripture is in our heart.  I confess to being sporadic when it comes to memorizing Scripture.  I wish I had done more of it.  There are times when a written copy of the Word is not available, or there are times when life seems so overwhelming that reading is too big a chore and in those times what we carry with us in our heart can prove to be invaluable.  Even those who have made no efforts in the discipline of Scripture memorization will be surprised at the amount of Scripture which is on file simply through the process of hearing it read again and again, or in singing some of the great hymns of the church.  

The Holy Spirit has a way of bringing God's truths into our conscious mind in those moments when we need an encouraging word from Him, or when we once again need to be reminded of one of His unchanging promises.  I am grateful my mother got me started memorizing Scripture verses early and regret that I did not keep at it as faithfully as I should have.

Feelings and Faith

There are surely those times when we have heard it said by some struggling soul, "I cannot feel the presence of God.  It feels as if He is absent."  Perhaps, it is also true that such words have not just been heard in the laments of others, but have been heard coming from our own mouth.  One thing which must always be remembered when we are walking through those dark nights, when search as we may, our world seems empty of His presence, is that feelings are not trustworthy.  

What is trustworthy are God's promises.  How many times in the Word do we hear His voice whispering, or even shouting "I am with you...?"  Of course, there is no condition of time or place on that promise for it concludes with the word, "always." (Matthew 28:20).  Our feelings have nothing to do with His presence.  The means by which we live with confidence is our faith.  Our faith calls us to trust Him when our feelings would tell us He is gone.  What our faith tells us is that He never gone.  He does not come to abide or dwell in us for a moment, but for eternity.  

The darkness in which we sometimes walk is very real and it can be extremely dark, but there is a Word from the One who brought us into being that tells us, "The light (the essence of Jesus) shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."  (John 1:5)  The darkness has no power to separate us from Christ (Romans 8:38-39). Christ has come to be with us, not for a season, but for every day of our journey Home . No matter how we feel, it is His promise.  His promises can be trusted!

The Edge of Here and There

 The place where water touches sand,

    rolls upon it and then away,

    is a holy place where worlds collide

    and visions see the sunrise of day.

 

The wavering moving trail down the way

   beckons first the wandering feet,

   but more the wondering soul 

   on a journey filled with unending end.

 

First the step in the cool blue water,

  the next in the white burning sand, 

  both equally a part of the journey

  beginning here, ending in know not where. 

 

Is it the unseen One who beckons 

 to walk the pleasant and perilous shore?

 Or, is the heart which once again

 moves toward the place it knows as home? 

A Core Hindrance to Generosity

One thing not always recognized in the moment is the way the financial decisions of the moment impact our ability to practice the spiritual discipline of generosity. I remember conversations with church members over the years who wanted to be more involved in some missions of the church, but found themselves locked into financial commitments that affected those decisions.  It may seem naive to some, but it is true that an attitude, or spirit of giving can be quenched so easily by some of those decisions.  

Life style choices that we make now impact later.  Keeping up with the Jones', spending above our means, and living with an ever demanding debt leaves many with a boatload of stress and an inability to see how it is possible to be involved in any significant sharing in what God is doing in the world.  Thoreau's word to "Simplify, simplify" is a hard word to embrace in a culture which calls us to clamor for more than we need and more than we can actually afford.  

One thing to remember is that what we have is not our own, but God's.  He is the Giver.  What we have is something entrusted to us for awhile.  It is ours to use, but not hoard, nor use carelessly.  We may not be able to change the rippling affect of past decisions, but we can begin the practice of living more simply.  We may be surprised at where it takes us and how it is a window to seeing what it is that is really important for us and our families. 

Surplus Giving

The story known as the widow's mite is worth pondering.  There are things about it which scream out, "Slow down and take another look!" but most of us have heard or read the story so many times, it's a word we ignore.  We know all the particulars.  We know Jesus is going to be pleased with the giving of the widow and that we are likely to feel a little guilt at our own.  With all this in mind, we read and run.  

One of the places which calls for slow pondering is found in that section of the story where Jesus speaks of the affluent "contributing out of their abundance."  (Luke 21:4)  The word "abundance" is an important word and one that is often misunderstood.  While few of us are Greek scholars, if we could go back and read this passage in the original language it was written, we would find ourselves looking at a word that carried a different meaning that we give it today.  According to our contemporary understanding, the word creates the image of bulging bank accounts.  The original meaning is more synonymous with our understanding of the word "surplus."  In other words, as Jesus pointed out the giving of the affluent, He was pointing out gifts that were from the surplus.    

The surplus is that which speaks of more than is needed.  It speaks of what is left after all the bills have been paid, the credit card debt has been knocked down a bit, and all the wants and wishes of our extravagant life style have been satisfied.  Out of what is left, the surplus gifts are given.  Surplus giving may or may not be a boatload of money, but it is giving that is not risky.  It does not have within it the component of faith.  Surplus gifts are given after everything else is handled.  Surplus giving does not speak of depending on God to provide which is what the widow's gift illustrated.  It is all about hedging our bets just in case God is not able to provide for us according to what we think is necessary.  

The Working World

The taste of mortality

   gathers on the brow

     with the dust and dirt

       forming a salty stream

        that burns the eyes

         and teases the tongue

with its wet bitterness.

 

The wear and tear of life

   is etched on hands

    bruised and battered

     showing open scars

      made not in a day

       but over hard years

of unrelenting toil.

 

What cannot be seen

   is the broken dreams,

    the beaten down spirit

     that no longer can rise

      to work another day

       yet knows it must

though the will is no more.

 

It is a life unknown

  to the soft handed,

    the white shirted ones

     who sit and earn,

      making what is not seen

       nor touched but only

exists between nine and five.  

 

Giving Gifts

Among other things, Jesus was a great communicator.  When He spoke, people listened.  He had a gift for making people do their own thinking as He told parable after parable.  He was also good with short stories.  It did not take Him a thousand words to tell a story that drove home an unforgettable truth.  He had a knack for seeing ordinary things like sheep grazing in a pasture, or a farmer sowing seed to drive home a truth as surely as a carpenter uses a hammer to drive home a nail.   

The gospel writer, Luke, tells us of such a moment.  "He (Jesus) looked up and saw rich people putting their gifts into the treasury; He also saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. He said, 'Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in all that she had.' " (Luke 21:1-4).  It is easy to imagine Jesus offering this word as He overheard His disciples being impressed by the extravagant gifts of some.  The offering receptacles in the Temple were not like our contemporary offering plates, but instead were metal trumpet shaped vessels attached to the wall.  A handful of coins made a noisy offering as they rattled around to their resting place, but two copper coins hardly even made a whimper of a sound.  

The real difference in the offerings, however, was unseen by the disciples. The rich gave out of their abundance meaning that what they gave was from their surplus.  It cost them nothing.  No matter how much they gave, they kept enough to make sure that all their wants and wishes would be satisfied.  On the other hand, the widow gave out of her poverty meaning that she gave trusting God to take care of tomorrow.  One gift spoke of depending on self and another about depending on God.  It makes us wonder what Jesus thinks about our giving.

A Clear Word

It is a Word from God many do not want to hear.  It is a Word that leaves us with no wiggle room.  Only blatant disobedience enables us to live as if though we are out from under it.  While such is true of any Word God speaks, either by the Spirit's presence in our heart, or through the written Word, there is something about this Word written by the Apostle John that demands our attention.  "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 to help?  (I John 3:17).  

This letter John wrote to the early church is all about the love of God.  It is also all about loving one another.  This question posed by John offers a litmus test to tell us how seriously we regard the call of Jesus to love one another.  We love one another not by saying we love one another, but by a sacrificial and generous life which counts nothing as ours and everything as His.  When we walk with Jesus as one who has denied all to go after Him, there is no room for excuses, there is no room for rationalizations, there is no room for holding tightly what has been given to us by Him.  The truth that we often want to deny in order to protect and preserve our holdings which give us security is that we are among the affluent.  

We are among those who have the world's goods in such quantity that we have more than enough to meet our own needs.  We have an abundance which is not to say we have boatloads of money, but that we have enough to share with those who are destitute, hungry, and broken.  John reminds us that disciples are not stingy, but generous.  They do not hold tightly, but loosely.  When they see a brother or a sister in need, they do not look for a reason to look away, but look for a way to share the love of Jesus Christ.

Sunday Pondering

Why I left church asking the question, I do not know.  There was nothing wrong with the service of worship.  Actually, it was uplifting and inspiring in many ways.  When I left, I was glad that I had been present.  Oh, the question?  "Why do I go to church?"  I could just say what is true, "My mother said go" and in those days, no other reason was necessary than the fact that she said to do it.  Or, I could say it is just a habit of mine that has become well ingrained over the last fifty years of life out from under my mother's watchful eye.  As I carried the question around with me through the day, a number of thoughts stopped in my mind for review.  

A few of those thoughts have stuck.  One is that to attend church is to walk on ground which I have come to know as home. It is a place where I have deep roots.  As I become immersed in the experience of worship with others, I sense a belonging to a community.  It is a community of people who share a common heritage, but it is also an unique community in that it is a spiritual community centered on Jesus and given life through the power of the Holy Spirit.  In a mysterious way it is not just a community of those of us who are here, but also one shared with those who are there in the invisible heavenly realm.  If I am not present when the church gathers, it is not diminished; instead, I am the one who is diminished.  

One thing which I think is deeply needed in the lives of those who are caught up in the temporal nature of culture is a place where there is mystery.  It is a good thing to sit still in a place where we are made aware that there are things we do not know, things we cannot understand, and thoughts we never thought to think.  Maybe it was my mother which got me to going to worship each Sunday, but being midst the holy mystery is what keeps taking me back.    

The Creaking Board

 There is a time of the day,

   or so they who know, say,

    when the Lord walks this way.

      Adam heard Him in the evening,

        Jacob, like me, while sleeping.

          No sound of evening breeze here,

Just the creaking board down the hall. 

 

Moses heard Him in the crackling fire,

   Elijah in the sound of spinning wheels.

     The shepherds heard the singing angels,

       the folks in Jericho, a trumpet sound,

         and for Samuel, a mysterious voice,

          but around here, nothing so sublime,

Just the creaking board down the hall.

 

While it may seem I'm ungrateful,

   nothing is farther from the truth.

    'Tis good to be among those included

       in His walking among us each day.

        I've heard Him in the roaring sea,

          in many wondrous things, but lately,

Just the creaking board down the hall.

 

Ah, but yes, it is a mysterious thing,

   this sound of walking in the night.

    No feet are in the dark hall stirring.

      I know. I've heard and got up to look.

        There is no question it is Him

          and how is it that He lets me know?

Just the creaking board down the hall.     

Praying for Others

When someone ask us to pray for them, an appropriate question is, "How can I pray for you?"  It is a lesson I learned years when I went to the altar to pray with someone.  It was at a time when a Service of Prayers for Healing was a part of our monthly schedule.  A person came forward whom I knew was struggling with cancer so I immediately started praying about this issue in his life.  When I finished, he thanked me and said, "...but I came to ask for prayers for my brother."  Lesson learned.  We should not assume to know how to pray for someone until they tell us.   

There are a world of people around us who are overcome by overwhelming and unseen difficulties.  What we see and think we know may be nothing more than the tip of the iceberg.  As we remember the story of the four friends tearing up a roof in order to lower their paralyzed friend into the presence of Jesus, we see how this is true.  Both the friends and the man on the mat came for physical healing.  What Jesus said must have surely surprised them.  "Son, your sins are forgiven."  (Mark 2:5).  It was later that Jesus said to him, "I say to you, stand up, take your mat and go home." (Mark 2:11).  

Even though it may seem as obvious as day and night, it is not a good thing to assume we know another person's need.  We have known people who have desperately and fervently prayed for physical healing while others would have us pray for a peaceful journey into eternity.  Jesus could see and understand a hurting and broken person's real need.  We often cannot see.  It is a good thing to ask, "How can I pray for you?"

The Man in the Mirror

 In the mirror, there is this man,

    a brow of dirt and ashes,

     or is it the costly stain of sin

       he wears as he looks at me? 

         'Tis after all, shaped like the tree

where the saving Savior bled and died.

 

 In the mirror, the brow now clean,

    the stain scrubbed and washed away,

      the dark smudge that once glared

        and spoke of the unclean not seen

           goes now into tomorrow's light

just as if never worn by the brow.

 

In the mirror, a hand moves to remove

    what cannot be removed, the mark,

      the one not worn on the brow,

        but on the heart, where no one, 

          sees and knows still it is there

'cept the blessed Savior, yes, He sees.

 

In the mirror, a unseen hand now moves

    to wipe away that one dark blot

      that in the heart has so long lingered.

        'Tis strange how blood that stains

           can cleanse even the foulest spot,

the one unclean hands could not wash away.

 

In the mirror, now another man appears,

    the Suffering One, the Dying One,

      the One who scrubs the soul clean

       and even dares to call home the place

         once darker than the blot on my brow.

Praise be!  Gone now the dark spot on my heart. 

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday.  People will be noticed in the market place wearing a dark gray smudge on their forehead.  It may even be in the sign of the cross.  Ash Wednesday opens the door to the season of Lent.  On Ash Wednesday liturgically minded Christians of many denominations will submit themselves to an ancient ritual known as the imposition of ashes.  It is indeed a strange moment within the life of the church as its members gather to be reminded of their mortality.  

"Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return," the priest will say as he or she looks people in the eye and marks them with ashes from the burning of last year's palm branches. For some stranger who walks into the service not really knowing what to expect, it can be a shocking, and perhaps, offensive moment.  After all, who wants to die?  Who among us, so sure we are going to live forever, wants to be reminded that we are going to die?  Even as we are linked together in birth so are we linked together in death.  The truth is we all need a dose of reality.  

Being reminded that our life is fragile, finite, and temporal may be a way of enabling us to live more attentive to each day.  Of course, there is no better one to tell us we are going to die than the church because it is also the one who tells us we are going to live.  Even though we die; yet, shall we live is the core gospel message.  At the end of the Lenten season, we will return to the church to celebrate the resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ who tells us that as surely as we die, we shall live because He has been enveloped in death's hold and overcome it. The victory He won is His gift to each one of us.

Sunday's Sermon

It was Sunday morning and the church crowd was going and coming.   He sat just outside the entrance way fo the sandwich shop with an open Bible midst his crossed legs. His clothing was in sharp contrast to the church crowd who had to notice him as they passed by.  The backpack pushed tightly against his leg appeared to be his only possession.  A coffee cup beside him said he had either made a purchase from inside or received a gift from someone who saw him.   

I am ashamed to admit it, but when I saw him all my internal voices of skepticism started wildly firing.  One said, "His timing for reading his Bible in public could not be better."  Another joined in, "What a great place to just sit. He doesn't even need a sign."  "He sure knows when and how to play the guilt card," was one of the last voices I heard before I heard a softer and kinder voice beside me saying, ""Let's buy him a sandwich."  All my inner voices ceased speaking.  There was no more to say.  

We bought him a sandwich.  "Friend," I said as I handed him our sandwich, "we wanted to share this with you."  He took it, thanked me, pushed it in his backpack and said, "I don't need it, but I have a friend who does."  I have a feeling God regarded his gift to his friend as a gift of greater value than mine.  Mine to him was wrapped thinly in love compared to the lavish abandonment wrapped around the gift he gave.  "Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver."  (II Corinthians 9:7)

The Chief Regret

One ot the benefits of living long enough to be a worn out Methodist preacher is time for looking back at the many years which are a part of memory.  There are many good memories.  Most of the good memories are centered around experiencing grace, being able to stand alongside of others as a pastor, and being privileged to always have a pulpit from which to preach the gospel.  Even as I am grateful for these memories that bring blessing, there are others which cause me to think about ministry in terms of what I would have done differently had I known then what I know now.   

One of the chief regrets about my years of ministry is that I did not spend more time intentionally being in His presence.  If I could do it over, I would spend more time on my knees.  I would choose to block out time to listen for God in the silence even as I had time blocked out for sermon preparation or meetings.  I would, of course, first had to learn how to be silent and to be in the silence that becomes filled with the holy.  I would be more intent about being available to God even it meant not being available for every phone call or coffee conversation about the business of the church.   

E.M. Bounds, a great prayer warrior from another generation, said and wrote many times that the source of the preacher's life is prayer. If I were doing it over again, I would take what I knew in my head and be more intentional about giving it flesh in my life.  Everything a preacher does emanates from the prayer room.  I would spend more time with the Source which, of course, this retired preacher and anyone else, preacher or not, can choose to do in the present moment God is giving. 

Thoughts on Transfiguration

The church calendar makes this Sunday special as it lifts up the moment of glory shared by Jesus and three of his disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration.  It is a powerful story about heaven breaking into earthly confines. It was surely an unexpected moment for those disciples.  One minute everything seemed to be orderly and predictable and the next moment they were nearly blinded by the brilliance of heavenly glory.  One moment it was them and Jesus and suddenly there appeared with Jesus, Moses and Elijah.  How did they know?  It is not like they were wearing name tags.  None were needed.  They knew.  

When God shows up in our presence with such attendant glory, we want to dig a hole somewhere and hide as did those disciples of long ago.  Or, maybe we shrug our shoulders, put our hands in our pockets, and silently slip out the exit door.  What is frightening about those moments when God breaks through the ordinary routines and expectations of our life is that there is usually some holy purpose which is a part of it.  If we think it just so we can shed a few tears, express a hint of emotions, and feel good about Jesus for a minute, we have missed the meaning of the glory.  

As wonderful as are those times when God seems near enough to touch and our hearts seem ready to burst, it is what is ahead that is important.  God does not bring us to those moments so we can live in them as the disciples would have chosen to do, but so that we can leave them with such an awareness of the power and presence of God that nothing is deemed impossible.  We have all had those moments filled with glory.  They may come in worship.  They may come in the quiet place we go for prayer.  They may come bursting forth from the creation around us.  One thing is sure. They come and when they come they make us different for the going that is ahead. 

Different Day, Same Power

I wonder sometimes if the church has forgotten it has an all powerful God.  A friend in Texas calls Him "the sovereign all powerful God of the Universe" as he speaks of God doing impossible things.  In a recent reading, I came across some thoughts the author was making about Chrysostom, a fourth century church father, "In discussing the miracles of the book of Acts, he never lost sight of the fact that they were performed and continue to be done, not by men but by God, whose power is always the same."  

 Here is an ancient word that the modern church needs to ponder.  Has the God spoken of as "the God of signs and wonders" become a domesticated God who is comfortable living in the boxes we have created for Him?  Do we really believe He can do the thing which seem impossible to do?  Have we become so timid in our faith that we are afraid to trust Him to the point that we will crawl out on the limb with Him?  Have our expectations become too low and does our fear of embarrassing ourselves keep us from modeling a faith willing to risk it all for His sake?    

Two things are clear from the observations about Chrysostom.  God's power has not changed since those days of Pentecost.  His power has always been and always will be the same.  Secondly, signs and wonder,  or acts of power that reveal the presence of the Holy Spirit are not dependent on the men and women who lead the church, but upon the church's willingness to embrace and accept the raw unbridled power of God in its midst.  

The First Work

The first work of the Holy Spirit after breathing the church into being with rushing wind and holy fire was to draw the unbelieving world into a relationship with Jesus. It was not to organize committees to establish mission teams, feeding ministries, safe places for widows and orphans, institutes for theological study, or even churches.  These things came later, but they were not the first priority of the Holy Spirit.  The first priority of the Holy Spirit was to bring people into a saving relationship with Jesus Christ.  By the time the sun set on the Day of Pentecost, three thousand people had heard the message of Jesus and were baptized.  

It is certainly not the case that the people who heard Peter preach that day were inclined to listen to a message about the crucified and risen Jesus.  When those men, still bewildered and overcome by what had happened in the Upper Room spilled out into the streets, they immediately found themselves midst a culture filled with skeptics and naysayers.  It was not an arena for success, but the message about Jesus overcame, drew people toward Jesus, and changed their hearts.  Is not this an example of "the power of the gospel?"  (Romans 1:16).   

Ah, that the church of our day would remember the first work of the Holy Spirit!  The things the church does to serve and love the world around it are important acts, but not at the expense of the first work of the Spirit.  What is needed in the church are not better preachers, softer pews, enlightening and entertaining programs, but Jesus.  The church of our day needs to see the first work of the Holy Spirit, embrace it, and have its people move over in the pews so there is room for those who are out there ready to come.

Raise Us Up

What can a church do when it comes to terms with the reality that it is slowly dying due to a lack of baptisms?  Getting rid of the preacher may be an option for some churches, but it makes about as much sense as firing the manager of a baseball team for losing even though every player is making a ton of errors and striking out each time at the plate.  Having a consultant come and lead a church growth conference might be considered, but it can be expensive especially for smaller congregations.  Of course, there are books and articles to read, sermons to hear, and podcasts to watch.  

The real key to renewal of the ministry at the baptismal font, or pool is prayer.  Has anyone  ever wondered what happens when a church begins to take prayer seriously by making it not a peripheral ministry, but a central one? Has anyone ever wondered what would happen if two people, or five people, or ten people in a church gathered to pray that God would bless the church with baptisms again?  It is not strange that we ask the people of God to pray for pastors, for the sick, for mission programs, for the bereaved, for financial campaigns, for our youth and children's ministries, but no one is intentionally praying for the church to be blessed with new believers in Christ Jesus?  

God is the Source of all spiritual blessings we seek for the church.  Surely, there is no blessing which would bring more joy to the heart of the Holy Spirit than to see people who have never openly professed faith in Christ to do so in His Church.  The first step toward seeing the baptismal waters stirred again is for a few to know themselves as the ones the Spirit is raising up to pray that seeing people professing faith in Christ would be the norm instead of the occasional occurrence.  "Lord, use us to raise up such a people."

A Spiritual Disease

One of the symptoms of a spiritual disease which is slowly destroying the church is not hard to diagnose.  Generally speaking more and more churches are reporting fewer and fewer baptisms each year.  When there does happen to be a need for a baptism, the worship committee (if it is a sprinkling congregation such as my own) has to find the baptismal font, dust it, sweep off the spider webs, move it to a visible place in the sanctuary, and fill it with fresh water. No one should be surprised to hear some of the younger generation asking, "What is it?  What do you do with it?"  

Every time the baptismal waters are stirred, it is a sign that some new soul has signed up to follow Christ. It is no small decision that brings a new believer to the holy waters.  My tradition says, "it is an outward sign of an inward change."  When the church gathers around the baptismal waters, it is to celebrate the birth of new creation in Christ Jesus.  It is also the moment when new blood is infused into the church and new breath is breathed into it through the power of the Holy Spirit.  

When the church becomes dependent on generational growth, or receiving new members because they are moving their membership from another congregation, it is drinking what might seem to be life giving water, but it is from a poisoned well.  A next generation church that is seriously concerned about its spiritual and theological integrity will either be filled and empowered by new believers from this generation, or it will simply know itself as a shadow of what God intended for it to be.  

The Prayer of a Righteous Man

Before leaving the house today, a friend said, "I would like to pray for you."  I never have any problem with someone praying for me.  Before he prayed, he said, "The Word says  that if anyone is sick, the elders of the church should pray for them and I reckon I am old enough to be an elder."  As one six years younger than me, he qualifies as an elder.  While I think the passage in James (5:13-15) is about the spiritual leaders of the church praying, I did not interrupt.  He was elder enough for me.  God didn't care. Neither did I.   

Sometimes it seems the church gets too caught up doing things by the book.  My own denomination has declared that only the ordained can administer the Sacrament.  Yet, there have been many a small group of believers studying and praying together who shared the Holy Meal without the beneifit of my presence.  Was it any less a remembrance and celebration of something sacred?  I think not.  Some denominations only allow those confirmed as members to receive the Sacrament which, of course, excludes the children whom Jesus was always inviting to come to Him.  Is the Table really open to all, or just those who jump through the hoops?  Again, my own denomination could never have achieved the impact it did in the formational days of our country without the unordained lay pastors who rode the circuits.   

My friend who stopped to pray today had no church officials lay hands on him to declare him an elder, but he was elder enough for me.  He is a man of faith whose prayers are constantly springing forth from his heart and falling from his lips.  His faith is strong and his intercessions are the words of a righteous man.  I did not need to see his credentials or his robes.  I saw his heart.  It was more than enough.

The Great Pretender

There are times when it seems that the church has hijacked Jesus.  But, then it is not the spiritual community centered on Jesus Christ which has done the deed, but the institutional church which poses as the Great Pretender. The institutional church is concerned about its survival.  It feeds on more.  It has its roots dug deeply into deeper treasuries, bigger buildings, and a success that is measured in much the same way as any thriving business.  The bottom line is not the number of souls saved, or lives radically transformed by the person of the resurrected Christ, but how smoothly the programs operate and the financial report at the end of the year.  The primary business of the institutional church is maintenance and survival.   

The church centered on Jesus seeks to lose itself in the world.  Appearance is not the important issue for a community of faith which seeks to live in the world as seed being dropped in the ground.  It is filled with disciples of Jesus who dream and pray about doing for Jesus what seems humanly impossible.  Its mission is not about maintenance but a mission defined by words such as the Great Commission of Matthew 28:18-29 and the Great Missional Mandate found in Matthew 25:31-46 which gives the broken a place alongside of the affluent at the Table of God's Kingdom.   

It is hard for those of us within the church to see the importance of the distinction because we start out with nothing more than our love for Jesus only to be seduced by an institutional church which whispers that what we want to do for Jesus can be done even better and with greater effect if we will buy into the agenda of the Great Pretender.  There is never any big announcement that we have switched horses.  It is all so very subtle.  One day we are all for the community centered on Jesus and the next day, it is all about maintenance of the institution instead of mission.  All the talk about Jesus becomes window dressing.

 

Glory in a Box

Even before the church came into being through the rush of that mighty wind at Pentecost, there was a spirit which sought to control the ministry of Jesus.  There are two stories in the 9th chapter of Mark which enable us to see the birth of the controlling influence which flourished as the church became institutionalized.  The first is the most well know.  When Peter, James, and John experienced the Mt. of Transfiguration, the first thing they wanted to do was to build three shrines on the mountain, one for Jesus, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.  It was a moment of experiencing a great sunburst of heavenly glory and Peter's response was to build a small house for it. (Mark 9:2-8).  

The second incident is reported a little later in the same chapter as John tells about trying to stop someone from casting our demons in the name of Jesus because as the disciple put it, "...he was not following us." (Mark 9:38). Jesus had a different idea.  "But Jesus said, 'Do not stop him...' " (Mark 9:39).  As the church became more organized and more institutionalized, it succumbed to the temptation to put glory in a box.  No longer would following Jesus be a thing as simple as "Come and see," (John 1:39) for the church began to set in place how would be followers should come to Jesus, what prayers they should pray, and what spiritual practices to which they should submit.  

In the early days of my ministry, a leaflet about four spiritual laws was required reading for any seeker.  In many places of our church culture, being baptized is not nearly as important as how the baptized are baptized.  Not even the Table where Jesus first offered a meal of grace is open to all.  Unfortunately, the church in many places has special requirements for those who would come and partake.  More than anyone or anything, the church seems most afraid of losing its control and letting the glory out of the box.

Rekindling Faith

Memory has the power to bring to our consciousness things thought to be forgotten.  The other night out the blue came a memory of a song I had not heard in such a long time, one I learned growing up in Sunday night worship, and one I would have thought forgotten forever until I remembered it.  "In Times Like These" was the gospel song.  Maybe you remember George Beverly Shea singing it in one of the Billy Graham Crusades, or maybe you remember it from those informal Sunday night worship services when you sang until you were breathless.   

"In times like these, you need a Savior.  In times like these, you need an anchor.  Be very sure, be very sure, your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock."  I love those old songs of the faith.  I miss those Sunday night services.  As a preacher I always was trying to recapture that faith building experience for those entrusted to me.  While I confess to not being a big fan of contemporary music in worship, the reason has to do with what is being remembered and stored in our spiritual storehouse.  We sang those old songs from "The Cokesbury Hymnal" over and over and over.  They were a part of the building blocks of our faith.   

I wonder what kind of memories are being stored through the music experience of today's church.  Will people thirty or forty years from now remember the lyrics of songs of faith, or will they simply remember the worship team and the excitement generated by the rhythm of the music and stage atmosphere?  I know this is the old fashioned worn out preacher longing for the good old days, but I still wish I could be sure there will be memories being created which have the power to rekindle faith.

My Soul Seeks in the Night

 In the darkness of the night

    my soul seeks to see the One

      Who cannot be seen and

        Whose voice speaks; yet,

          is one that cannot be heard.

Still my soul seeks Him in the night.  

 

Is it the darkness which hides His face?

   No, He is not One who can be hidden

     by any darkness, or power, or foe.

       It is own choosing, this not seeing,

         Neither this darkness, nor a lack of faith.

So my soul seeks Him in the night.

 

In the darkness my soul seeks the unseen,

   the One seen as a thousand faces:

     Brilliant red sunsets, ivory white moon rises,

       growing hay fields, red cows awaiting,

         roaring crashing waves, whispering wind.

My soul knows the One it seeks in the night.

 

In the darkness my soul waits and watches

    not knowing everything, but sure of one,

      the One unseen is coming.  He is near.

        Always it has been such in the darkness,

          and the present darkness shall not prevail.

My soul waits for the Living God who comes.

          

Grateful

One of the things I have learned along the way is to live with gratitude.  The Apostle Paul wrote, "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (I Thessalonians 16-18).  Rejoicing and praying is easy compared to the admonition of giving thanks.  While I have not reached the level of Paul, I am further along the way than I used to be.  Keeping a Prayer Journal taught me that in the darkest of times, there are things for which to be thankful.  This is not a Pollyanna approach to life, but one filled with realism.   

All of us have been through some very dark and hard moments in our life.  In those moments being grateful may be difficult.  In such moments we might imagine ourselves standing at the edge of the darkness.  At the edge of our darkness we can see the people who are encouraging us, the people who are praying for us, the care being given to us, and the awareness that we have not been forgotten by God.  As we start at the edge of the darkness, we can slowly move into it still mindful of the things and the people for which we can be grateful.    

Maybe this discipline or practice does not work for everyone, but it has enabled me to be grateful in circumstances which could have caused anger or bitterness.  One thing is certain.  Life is lived better when we look at every circumstance through the lens of gratitude.  And remember, too, "this is the will of God."

A Shimmering Word

Years ago I became acquainted with Esther da Waal,  a writer who introduced me to the stream of Celtic spirituality.  A word she often used was "shimmering."  As an example, she would talk about walking with a camera on a walk.  Her suggestion was to walk with no intentions of taking a picture of some particular thing, but to see what called for your attention, or as she put it, "shimmered."  A few days ago while looking to read a particular passage in I John, another one I had no intention of reading grabbed my attention.  It shimmered.   

The passage was I John 5:14-15.  Reading it was like walking up three steps with each one containing a truth that led to the next one.  The first step is "And this is the boldness we have in Him..."  Here is a word which calls us to come before Him boldly and without a spirit of timidity and fear.  Come before Him without doubt is what is being suggested.  Step two then says, "that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us..."  Our prayers are not simply cast into the wind to go haphazardly into who knows where.  When we pray according to His heart, we can be assured our prayers are heard.  

The final step is the one that is so amazing, our minds have trouble taking hold of it.  "And if we know that He hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have obtained the request made of Him."  Here is a word which tells us our prayers are not filed away, left in some heavenly drop box, but are heard by Him.  And if heard by Him, we can turn our head toward heaven as we wait for what in inside His will to come in an overflowing and abundant manner into our life.  It truly is a word which shimmers!

The Bold Prayers

So often the deepest and most desperate prayers of the heart are more half-hearted than bold.  Our praying often sounds more like, "God, You wouldn't want to bless me, would You?" or, "I know this sounds impossible, but I thought I would ask it of You just in case."  This is not the prayer of faith, but the prayer of doubt.  James wrote about such praying in the early part of his letter to the church:  "But ask in faith, never doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind; for the doubter, being double minded and unstable in every way, must not expect to receive anything from the Lord." (James 1:6-8).   

Too many times we have come before the Lord with our petitions in hand not really expecting our prayers to make any difference.  It is as if they are thrown into a wind that blows them back in our face instead of toward the throne of grace.  Over and over the Scripture tells us to pray with faith.  Again and again the Word calls us to pray with boldness.  Perhaps, the first prayer we must pray in the face of what seems impossible is to ask God to deliver us from a spirit of timidity and fear.   

Anyone who takes prayer seriously certainly understands that the prayer room is shrouded in divine mystery.  We are told by the Word that it has great power, but we do not always see it.  Once our prayers are spoken with faith into the ear of God, they become as building blocks useful to Him for the work of His will.  How it all works we may never know in this life, but He knows and that is enough.

A Fallen Sparrow

One of the things which frightens us in our spiritual journey are the those moments when our encounter with God seems to refute what we have learned to believe about Him.  Byron Herbert Reece was an Appalachian poet of north Georgia whose legacy still lingers heavy in the valleys and hills he called home.  One of his poems is about that passage of Scripture which speaks of God's protective eye being on the sparrow.  The poem begins with the words, "I saw a fallen sparrow..."  As the poet wrote lines wondering how it happened, he ends with the words, 'I had no means to know; But this I minded well: Whose eye was on the sparrow Shifted,--and it fell."     

What do we do with a healing God who does not heal?  How do we relate to a caring God who allows my child to die?  How do we relate to a God who supposedly watches over the sparrow; yet, who lets him fall?  If our questions about faith are easily answered, it is likely that we have not been asking the right questions.  With his poem Reece pondered what seemed as mystery to Him.  If we read the gospel as a book of answers for life, we will likely be disappointed in the end.  What the gospel reveals is not answers, but an open door into the mystery where God can be encountered.  

Mystery abounds.  How can it be that a person who dies shall live again?  How is it that God became flesh?  How is it that the cross has the power to transform life and bring into the creation a new order?  As Reece saw the sparrow, he pondered what cannot be understood.  Dare we do the same?

Its Own Legs

When I was a child I got hooked on reading the Bible by reading the stories of the Old Testament.  While I am not sure fascinated is the right word to use for a young reader, I found myself reading those stories in Genesis and Exodus over and over again.  As my reading expanded, I found other great Old Testament stories as well as those of the gospel.  Back in my preaching days, I occasionally used the narrative of a Biblically based created story as a substitute for a Sunday sermon.  When I did, I avoided making sure everyone got the point of the story out of a belief that a good story stands on its own legs.   

Later it would come to me that the many stories of the Bible were connected by a common thread.  Collectively, they are all a part of the story God wrote with the people He brought into being.  It is not just a story of a big boat and a flood, a young boy killing a giant, or a king losing sight of his purpose, but the story of God at work among us.  Thus, the story is still being written.  When Jesus, the Son of God, came as the Incarnate One of God into Bethlehem, the story took on a new dimension.  

It became a story not just being written with the external actions of men and women, but a story told which recorded the way life is transformed by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.  It became not just a story of deeds done; it became a story of a heart wrapping its arms around the world.  The story of the gospel is not just the story of mighty deeds of wise people.  It is the story of overcoming love.  It is a story which stands on its own legs.

His Plans

We talk much about the fact that God has a plan for each of us.  Jeremiah 29:11 is an oft quoted verse in these days.  "For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope."  It is a Word from God which is not only a word of encouragement, but a promise.  It is also a word which requires a radical kind of faith which speaks of abandoning self for the plan of God.  The truth is His plans are not always our plans because they are not in line with the plans we have made for ourselves.  

One thing learned about the plan of God over the decades of walking with Him is that there is nothing predictable about His ways.  The way He leads is not a straight path, but one that has many surprising and unexpected twists and turns.  To abandon ourselves to His plans and His future is to be willing to live as a risk taker.  Experience has taught us that when God leads us into the future He is unfolding before us, it often means that He is going to lead us away from where we feel in control of our life to the place where  life can only be lived if He is given control.  

This is the world where "the plans I  have for you..." become visible to us.  It is, therefore, not the world of the known, but the world of faith.  The question is not the one which asks if God really does have a plan for us. The Word of God is dependable and trustworthy.  The real question is do we have the faith to walk with Him into that unknown and still not yet see plan.

The Fallen Snow

Fallen snow invites us to enter into its silence.  It makes no noise.  It floats in frigid air until it finds its place on the cold earth.  When it settles in its place on the ground, it waits.  There is about it a contentment with being in the presence of the stillness.  It is so content, it seeks nothing more. It does nothing to call attention to itself.  It looks like a white canvas that contains what has not yet come and something not yet seen.   

Is that not what it is to enter into the silence created by the very breath of the Holy Spirit?  Too often we approach our dedicated time with God with what we seek from Him.  We have brokenness which needs wholeness, emptiness which needs filling, and hope we need restored.  There is within us an endless stream of petitions for the something more that seems to always be a part of our life.  There are even those desperate moments when we take the brush in our own hands and dare to put on the empty canvas of our life what our impatience requires in the now.  

The waiting snow invites us to see our own heart as the empty canvas waiting in the stillness for the Spirit to begin or continue His work of creating in us someone who has not yet come into existence.  We are never who we see ourselves as being in the past, nor are we simply who we see ourselves being in the present, but instead, we are also who we cannot yet see ourselves as becoming.  To enter in the stillness with a waiting spirit is to trust the Spirit to make visible the invisible, unseen, and not yet part of who we are becoming.         

  

Preaching Christ

The church needs to rediscover what it means to be Jesus centered.  The Apostle Paul wrote to the church at Corinth, "...we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles..." (I Corinthians 1:23).  In our day preaching about Jesus has been replaced with preaching about the mission of Jesus, or preaching about the spiritual character of Jesus.  It often seems that the gospel has become equated with some justice or service mission, or perhaps, a word which calls for those who hear to model their living after the example of Jesus.    

While there is nothing intrinsically wrong about such preaching, it is not the message about the Christ who delivers, saves, and radically transforms the heart.  The cross is used to speak of the suffering the mission calls us to endure and the love we are to have in our hearts, but not an act of God which is justifying, redemptive, and atoning.  For some the traditional language may sound too holy and too out of date, and if so, it is imperative that we find new ways to communicate the spiritual truths such words convey.   The church cannot preach Christ and not first preach about a relationship with Jesus.  Christ cannot be preached if the message about Him is not an invitational message which creates a longing for life with Him.  We can preach and inspire people to do better and we can persuade people to do the right things in terms of social justice issues or ministries of service; however, it has no lasting power. 

The core problem is that without the transforming power of Christ touching the heart, the strength and motivation for the modeling and the mission will soon run dry.  If it is not the love of Christ which moves us into the world, those who seek to do the mission will soon become exhausted and those who seek to model the lifestyle of Christ will soon become the duty bound instead of the dispensers of unconditional love.  The church must either preach Christ crucified or prepare for its funeral.  

The Land of Not Knowing

What cannot be seen is greater than what can be seen.  What exists in the invisible realm of God's Kingdom is greater than those thing which exist in the visible realm where we live and breathe.  There is more unknown about God than what is known.  God's ways are surely mysterious and wondrous, but more of this dimension of God's work is unseen by the human eye than we dare to think we have seen. The human means of relating to the world of the Kingdom of God is faith.  

Hebrews 11:1 says, "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen..."  Two things are very clear.  First, some of the things God is doing as well as the means by which He does them are in the unseen realm.  Secondly, faith is the God given tool to interact with the unseen activity of God in the world.  So many of our spirituality programs outline a process which has as its purpose understanding the ways of God and then implementing them to our benefit.  The "how to" books about being in relationship with God and living in His world fill up book shelves.  They surely have their place in our spiritual journey, but not often do they take us to place of of being immersed in the cloud of not knowing.  

They seek to bring us into a realm of greater understanding.  Seldom do they simply take us into the holy mystery that speaks of the air breathed by God and those who linger close enough to Him to be stirred and given life by His breath.  When I graduated from seminary some fifty five years ago, I was given two things.  I was given a parchment which spoke of what I knew and I was given a church to lead that was filled with such godly people that I was constantly reminded of how little I  knew.  Our faith beckons us to walk into this land of mystery, this land of not knowing.

Kingdom Gifts

I was just a second grader when he showed up at our back door.  We lived in a duplex not far from the water tower on the poor side of Waycross.  We not only lived on the wrong side of the tracks, but looking back is to know my recently widowed mother with two small children was barely keeping things together.  The man who showed up the back door was in even worse shape.  It is always true that our problems pale in comparison to others.  

Our house was not much, but this guy had no place to live but the road.  Most likely he had jumped off one of the freight trains which ran up and down the busy tracks just beyond the water tower.  When he came to the door, he asked for something to eat.  I remember my mother fixing him a couple of what was likely bologna sandwiches and then watching him as he walked away eating them. It was surely another version of the five loaves and two fish story.  We had very little, but it was sharable and enough to feed one more.  

Over the years I have seen the generosity of the poorest for those who had even less.  While it is easy for us to talk about rising prices and the difficulty in getting by, the truth is most of us have enough to share some of what we have with others.  Maybe they do not show up at our back door anymore, but they are out there somewhere.  Some are hungry.  Some are in need of a warm coat.  Some need help we can give.  A little goes a long way when it is given as a Kingdom gift.  

God's Purpose

Bad things happen to good people.  And to bad people, too.  While I am not ready to say that God sends bad things to us, it has always seemed that He allows bad things, the things we would never really choose, to come to us.  The woes of Job were not sent by God.  He allowed them, but did not send them.  There is a difference.  Of course, this takes us to still another question.  If God allows bad things to come to us, does He have a purpose in doing so?  Our faith shouts "Yes!"  

Our faith does not allow for a random unfolding of life.  The creation is about order, not chaos.  Surely, such is true of our life as well.   Perhaps, the question about God allowing bad things to come for a purpose is too great a matter for a blog post of three paragraphs.  Maybe it could even be said it is too big a matter for finite thinkers like us. We can wrap our minds around some things, but so many of the questions of faith are more about learning to live with and within mystery without understandng the mystery. 

The Old Testament screams that God has a plan, a future for us, one that ends with what is good for us.  (Jeremiah 29:11)  Our experience tells us that it is a plan with a lot of bumps in the road.  There have even been those moments when we have lost traction and slid off an unseen dangerous edge.  God saw the bumps.  He knew they were ahead; yet, He allowed us to find them for ourselves.  Is there some purpose in those unexpected and unwanted moments?  There must be. Our faith can offer no other answer and really be faith.  It is a part of that mystery we cannot yet fully see.

A Spiritual Issue

There have always been those people we did not see.  I grew up in a segregated south where the black community was present, but for all practical purposes, invisible.  As a pastor I remember the pain of a young woman recently divorced as she spoke of being shunned by people she once thought of as friends.  They no longer saw her.  Even today there are those who live invisible lives in nursing homes, under expressway bridges, and in refugee camps. In some ways it is not just the poor whom we will always have with us, but the invisible ones as well.   

The inability to see one another seems magnified in this culture of instant communication.  Instead of knowing people by looking them in the eyes, we live seeing one another through something so small we can hold it in our hand. We no longer pay attention to the world as it presents itself; we take a video of it.  Our society suffers for many reason, but surely one reason is that we no longer really see each other.  We see, but we do not see.  We see our titles, our roles, the personal benefits which come from an association.  We see the powerful and the disenfranchised, the affluent and the poor, those like us and those who are different.  

Who we no longer see is each other.  We no longer see each person we encounter as one who bears the common imprint of the Holy One who created "them and us."  We may declare our society divided by many factors, but chief among them is one that is spiritual.  Our divisions have made us invisible to one another.  We no longer look at one another and see our neighbor.  Our inability to see one another as one who is us has unleashed a venomous evil which can only be overcome by each of us unleashing God's love through our lives. 

The Blessings of Sycamores

This morning my sycamore trees call out to me.  Of course, they are not mine. The farm belongs more to them than me.  They are the long timers around here.  Perhaps, I call them mine to speak of the relationship I am blessed to have with them.  The truth is the sycamore trees, the farm, and I all belong to Him who created us.  For over fifteen years I have lived within their watch.  They have been here long enough to see others like me walk the land,  put sweat into it, and hope for the blessings of an unseen crop.   They have given me many blessings.  

Many have been the mornings when I have sat on the front porch with a coffee cup steaming to consider the Words God speaks to me through their presence.  There have been those satisfying days of cutting back the privy edge from around their trunks and roots as a way of encouraging their life.  Those trees have huge leaves, leaves big enough to be a mask for the face of a grandson and this old guy who played and laughed as only boys could do while catching the falling leaves on a brisk autumn day.   Blessings.  How I have been blessed by what cannot speak words for ears, but words for the heart.  

The greatest blessing, though, is their presence, their permanence.  They have asked nothing of me; yet, they have blessed me.  I know they, like me, are only here for a speck of history, but then again, they point me toward Who cannot be seen fully.  They speak Words I know come from the Eternal One who dwells in the silence.  I am grateful we share this land and this time together.  

The Kingdom is Here

One of the things hard for us to realize is that what God wants us to do is right in front of us.  It is not out yonder in some distant day, or in some place other than where we are in the present moment.  Even if we are making preparation for a mission trip some months from now, the getting ready is not something more important than the getting at whatever is right in front of us.  It is always true that God has plans for us in our future, but it is equally as true that He has plans for us that are as near as our outstretched hands.  

The Scripture speaks of the Kingdom of God being out yonder in the realm of the not yet here, but it also is described as being in the the realm of the here and now, or as the Word says, "in the midst of you."  (Luke 17:21).  It is, therefore, true that there is always Kingdom work in front of us, all around us, and out there in the unseen distance as well.  As one who seeks to live in faithfulness to Christ, we must never lose sight of the present.  The future may be out there as a signpost to guide us in the right direction, but it is in the present that the work of the Kingdom entrusted to us to do is seen.  

I remember those seminary days of the past when I thought that what I was doing in the classroom was preparing me for what God wanted me to do in the future.  Looking back I am sure I must have missed many things He wanted me to do while I was too occupied with getting ready for what might be coming.  It is not in the grandiose that God puts us to work, but in the common ordinary things like visiting the lonely on our street, or making sure that the unlovable people in our circle are loved, or even showing up to give dedicated attention to God in our devotional moments.  The Kingdom is here.  Its work is here.  We live in the here. 

The Teaching of the Years

"The years teach much which the days never knew."  I was more asleep than awake when those words from a very slow movie woke me up.  The movie was more than a little boring and I am not sure why I stayed with it so long. Maybe I stayed with it to hear those few words which resonated with the life experience of this old preacher who is straining toward another decade.  What most of us would like is a "do over" on some parts of our life, or maybe even one of golf's mulligans, but, alas, none are available.  

I have often thought that I wish the old version of me could go back and tell the young version of me some things about living, but of course, such thinking is an exercise in futility.  It is not just the old who are guilty of getting set in their ways, but the young as well.  When I look back to the early days of my faith in Christ, I know now that I thought I knew more than I knew.  I needed things to be black and white, right and wrong, and able to be figured out.  I know now that the world has more gray in it than I ever saw and that there is more that I do not know about God than I ever thought I knew about Him.  

Probably, the biggest and most important thing the years have taught that I often did not see while living some its days was the abundance of God's grace.  Life is not about what we do.  It is not about all the noteworthy things we have in our resume or obituary, but about grace.  Life is about grace.  Life is grace.  I wish I had learned this sooner.  The essence of the Creator God is in all of us.  All of us.  It took some days to get it, but the years have finally driven it home.

Praying About the Weather

Praying about the weather is tricky business.  We all have this image of Jesus walking across the water in a storm.  The disciples were in a boat that they were sure was sinking.  When Jesus arrives, He speaks to the storm and the wind is stilled.  A little earlier in the Biblical story we see Noah building a huge boat and God sends the rain by the buckets.  In recent days as a huge and catastrophic winter storm gains strength, some around here are praying for God to push it a little farther north.  Such prayers are understandable, but what does it say about our concern for our northern neighbors?  

Years ago I read about a weather related prayer out of the stream of Celtic spirituality.  The person praying would stand with arms raised toward the east and pray, "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, bless and protect this place and those who live in it."  This part of the prayer is followed by turning to the south, the west, and then the north repeating the prayer each time.  It is a prayer I have often prayed from the front porch of the house at the farm when dark threatening clouds filled the horizon. It seems more in the spirit of the prayer which Jesus taught His disciples to pray for we ask not for the storm to target our neighbor, but for protection as we go through it.  

Praying about the weather is something we all are going to do.  More than once have I prayed that an afternoon shower would not douse a field of hay needing to be dried by hot summer sun.  More than once have I prayed during a stormy night for the safety of my family, or that I would find safe passage on some highway filled with blowing rain.  More than once I have prayed about the weather.  As is the case with all of us, I will likely do it again.

The Blue Heron

I spent some time this afternoon with a long legged blue heron.  While I am not sure he sensed my presence as I watched him from the car, I sat in wonder watching him for the best part of an hour.  It was like watching a statue. He stood tall and erect on one of those spindle like legs.  When he finally moved, it was to put the other leg on the ground just before the one on the ground disappeared under one of his wide wings.  As the shadows stretched across the ground, he modeled absolute stillness.  The evening breeze stirred the finer feathers across his chest, but nothing else about him even resembled movement.   

I wanted him to run, or walk, or spread those huge wings, or maybe even fly, but he was content to be immersed in the stillness all around him.  In those moments of watching, I wondered if the blue heron and the Holy Spirit were joining to show me  a verse of Scripture read only a few days ago.  In the first Psalm the Word speaks of the righteous as those who "...meditate on His law day and night."  (Psalm 1:2)  I saw before me such stillness.  In the stillness there was such awareness.  

When he finally walked a few feet along the edge of the pond, it was with such deliberation and purpose.  Slowly he moved as if each next step was more important than the place he finally stopped.  Nothing outside the moment of his present seemed to matter.  Would that my soul could stand in a stillness where the only stirring was caused by the gentle breeze of the Holy Wind moving over my heart.  

Remembering Roots

Roots are important.  Roots connect us to life giving sources.  Going back to the place of my birth and rambling around in places familiar to my parents nurtures me in an unexplainable way.  In a like manner my spirit is nurtured by spiritual roots.  My  parents lived lives that were like metal guardrails on either side of a narrow road which stretched out before me.  My early years were filled with small Methodist churches and countless Methodist preachers.  

At Young Harris College I was shaped by its spiritual community and a small group of Christian guys who called me friend.  Asbury College, a school that had "Holiness Unto the Lord" blazoned across the front interior wall of the auditorium, provided a place to hear preachers like J. Edwin Orr, E. Stanley Jones, and Dennis Kinlaw; and, to experience the power of the Holy Spirit in an extraordinary moment of revival during my last quarter.  My spiritual roots were laid down in the social upheaval of the 60's and 70's in south Georgia, a segregated society struggling to move into an integrated world of racial equality.  

I am one who withstood and held to the back of the pew in front of me during many an evangelistic sermon, but finally gave my life to Christ at age 18 in a very emotional experience by my bedside.  While many events and many people have shaped my spiritual journey since its beginning, that bedside moment and the revival at Asbury College sent down deep roots which continue to give my soul its life over 55 years later.  Thanks be to God for His blessings of grace.

The Final Word

Early in January I prayed the John Wesley Covenant Prayer with other believers and for some reason foud myself wanting to stay immersed in it for longer than a few minutes.  For those of us who call ourselves Wesleyans, it is an easy prayer to pray.  When taken seriously it is a hard prayer to leave.  It is one of those unique groupings of words which cause us to see that something is going on which goes beyond rote memorization.  

It is a prayer which goes deeply into that inner place of the heart where the motives of our spiritual disciplines and exercises are found.   It is not a prayer for spiritual dabblers and the faint hearted.  As we approach the Amen of the prayer we hear ourselves making a declaration of intimacy and oneness.  "Thou are mine and I am Thine. So be it."  Hear it carefully.  

It is the prayer which declares to God that our heart and His heart are beating in sync. It is the prayer which declares our desire to be on the other side of lifting the load that God would lift to care for the broken, to right every injustice, and to bring the wandering lost souls to Him.  Where He walks, we walk.  We not only walk where He walks, but we walk close enough to put our feet in the prints left in the road by His feet. We want nothing more than to be so like Jesus that those who see us first see Jesus and His heart.  

Surprise in the Mail

How does the Holy Spirit speak to us?  Where should we bend our ear to hear that still small voice?  I remember.a sermon from long years ago in which the preacher spoke to his male audience and said that sometimes the Spirit speaks through a wife.  I remember, too, the uneasy laughter which went across the room, but it is true, is it not?  The Holy Spirit is not limited in speaking a word to us.  He can use the sun setting over the wide expanse of the beach, or the upheaval of creation by a mighty wind.  He can use the Scripture, the words of the saints, a preacher in the pulpit, or a wife.  

A few days ago I picked up a glossy piece of mail from one of those megachurch preachers.  Expecting an appeal for money, I opened it up and immediately my eyes were drawn to words which I knew were words the Spirit was speaking to me.  The first thing I wanted to do was throw it away, but it is still there open on the desk with a power that causes me to read it again and again.  It is like so many have said to me over years of preaching when I heard those surprising words. "Preacher, how did you know what was going on in my life? Your sermon was just for me."

The brief little note is still there.  Underneath is an envelope for an offering and also a card to send my need to an unknown prayer team is a distant place.  I know what it is.  It is not just a gimmick to get my money.  It is the Holy Spirit speaking to me a word of comfort and hope.  I receive it with gratitude.  

Just in Case

As we pray deeply in the John Wesley Covenant Prayer, we come to that line which could be called the "Just in case I missed something" part of the prayer.  As we pray this prayer which brings to mind so many of the specifics of life, we come to this word which is like a waterfront word.  The word of the prayer which takes away the possibility that we missed something, or that some part of our life has been managed to keep out of the scope of the prayer is this line which says, "I freely and heartily yield all things to Thy pleasure and disposal."   

Make no mistake.  This is a prayer of total capitulation.  It is the prayer of absolute abandonment.  It is a prayer empty of reservations and stipulations.  Praying this prayer seriously is not an either or moment in our spiritual life.  It is our declaration of a faith leap over the cliff.  Perhaps, Christ will catch us, or perhaps, He will choose not to catch us.  What happens once the leap of faith is taken is entirely up to Him.  Whatever He wills to do, it is good.  As we choose to live a life of this kind of radical faith, we are counting nothing in our life more valuable than our faith in Him.  

We leap trusting His whatsoever.   The  Wesley Covenant Prayer is like a marriage.  It is our choosing to step into a covenant and it is not to be taken lightly, but reverently and in the fear of God.  We may not make this covenant in the presence of a congregation, though many of us do, but we do make it in the presence of God who not only hears our words, but writes them in His heart as our promise to Him.

Declaring our Choice

To be honest is to admit that what prompted this writing venture on the Wesley Covenant Prayer was a visual of a large group of people enthusiastically singing, "I'd rather have Jesus than silver or gold, I'd rather have Jesus than riches untold, I'd rather have Jesus than anything this world affords today."  It was a very polished, manicured, and affluent looking group of men and women.  Fashionable boots and sharp dressing seemed to be the normal attire.  The cynic in me that sometimes raises its head wondered about the automobiles they might be driving to some gated community known as home.   

Perhaps, my thoughts had no basis, but almost as soon as the visual registered, I thought of the line from the Wesley Prayer which says, "Let me have all things and let me have nothing."  It was then that the Spirit really got down to business in my heart by bringing into view my family, the land and home I have come to love, the work of ministry which continues to give me purpose, and being a part of all that is a part of where I walk and who I am.  

If life suddenly turned upside down on the singers and the cynics like me who watched and we found ourselves sitting and having nothing more than a pile of ashes to pull around us as did Job, would we still sing?  The question of the Wesley Covenant Prayer goes to the center of this song about our choosing Jesus over anything.  This is not to say we cannot live with our stuff.  We just need to be sure what kind of hold our stuff has on us.  

The Whatever Prayer

To come to those words of the John Wesley Covenant Prayer which bring to expression the words, "Let me be full, let me be empty," is a way of declaring the eternal "whatever."  It is another way of saying what the hymn expresses as it says, "Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, it is well.  It is well with my soul."  It takes us to that great affirmation of faith declared by the Apostle Paul when he wrote, "...I have learned to be content with whatever I have.  I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty.  In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need."  (Philippians 4:11-12).  

It is no easy thing to declare that being full or empty is unimportant.  Remember, too, this is not just a word about a bulging bank account or one so thin it is nearly non-existent.  It can also be a reference to our inner life.  Being full can be an expression of a heart that is overflowing with spiritual blessings.  It can be a way of speaking of a life that is so full of God's presence that glory seems to be shining upon us all the time.  On the other hand, being empty can be an expression of a soul that seems as dry as desert wind and God seems as inaccessible as water in a desert well filled only with sand.  

To pray these words of the Covenant Prayer speaks of our sticking with God regardless of what comes. Whatever comes, whatever is our lot, we are still going to be one who raises hands in praise and remains grateful for the goodness of God.  Whatever, Lord.  I am Yours.

Listening to the Voice

When the Voice is heard somewhere deep within that cannot be explained,  it is not a moment for argument, or questioning.  It may be a moment for wonder if wonder is not cloaked in a doubtful attire, but the attire of standing in the midst of mystery.  Only those who have no ears to hear doubt that the Voice of the Lord can be heard and known as surely as can be the sound of wind as it races across the open space to where we stand waiting.   

It is the same Voice which has been heard by men and women through more days than we can count.  It is a Voice that changes lives, brings healing to the broken, and opens doors to the future which have seem locked and nailed shut.  It is a Voice which has such force within it that the very trajectory of history seems shaken and pushed in a direction no one thought possible.  This Voice of God may be described as a still small Voice, one that seems to come more with a whisper than a shout, but there is no voice which brings such transforming power to the stage where we walk and live.  

When we hear it, and we will, we dare not take a path other than the one it calls us to take.  We dare not go on living as if we never heard it.  To do so is to live with a horrible weight of "what if" upon our shoulders.  What ever we hear from God requires not only our immediate attention, but also our immediate action.  The history which has been written through the ages and the history which is being written through our own experience tells us to listen so that God can lead us from here to there.

Another Layer Exposed

What if God wants us to fail at some noble endeavor to accomplish His plan? What is He allows our effort for Him to end in what seems to be humiliating failure in order for His Kingdom goal to be reached?  What if our role is the interim, or the associate, or the shadow dweller instead of the head honcho, or the one who stands in the spotlight on center stage?  A CEO of a big corporation is remembered as saying that there is not end to what one can accomplish if you do not mind who gets the credit.  Are we willing to be such a person?   

"Let me be exalted for Thee or brought low for Thee."  Perhaps, the previous words of the Wesley Covenant Prayer exposed our ego, but these additional words peel back the protective layers of that ego until it is painfully bare.  All of us want to be liked.  No preacher I know wants to stand at the door at the end of the service only to hear what an awful sermon has been preached.  Like Jeremiah, the Old Testament prophet, there is a part of us that wants to be liked, to be accepted, and to be one of the good looking crowd.   This part of the prayer Wesley prayed takes us to the place of obedience.  Is obedience more important to us than being liked?  Or we willing to be humiliated in the eyes of our peers if it means being seen as faithful by God?  Being exalted is easy, but being brought low goes against the grain of the human ege.  

One of the things we want most is to look good in the eyes of others which is one of the reasons it is so hard for us to accept the responsibility for our own failures.  We would rather blame someone or some unexpected circumstances.  When we no longer have to set ourselves on the pedestal, we are free to be brought low and, therefore, able to enter into more honest and accountable living.  To pray these words from the prayer declares that all we need to know about what we do for His sake is His approval.

Deeper into the Prayer

In some ways the Wesley Covenant Prayer is like peeling an onion one layer at a time.  Each part of the prayer exposes a different level of our spirit.  It could be said that the prayer is one that takes us deeper and deeper into our inner being enabling us to see if our heart belongs completely to Jesus, or if we still have our controlling hand on part of our life.  Just when we think we have made it to the core and there is no more to let go, we are confronted by still another part of our life which causes us to consider the degree to which we abandon our life for God.   

The next part of the Wesley Prayer causes us to pray, "Let me be employed by Thee or laid aside for Thee."  Here within the prayer is a moment when we are expressing our desire to be at God's disposal.  If there is something He needs doing and that He wants us to do, we are willing.  Even as such is true, it is also true that we are willing to step aside from something we might want to do for Him if it is His desire to use someone else.  There have been times when we have been tempted to think that we are necessary for some Kingdom work to be accomplished, but as we pray this prayer we affirm that who does the work and who gets the credit is not as important as knowing that the work of God's Kingdom is going forward.  

Some of the churches I have served as pastor have closed down, but not a single one closed because I left.  When I left, the work continued.  The words of this part of the prayer Wesley prayed raises questions we must ask and answer about the importance of our ego verses the importance of what God is doing.   

Uncomfortable Words

Our typical prayers pray for deliverance to more comfortable places.  We pray for relief from pain, peace in place of brokenness, and a safer way.  There is nothing wrong with such petitions.  The Scripture teaches us to pray such intercessory words which is one of the reasons the Wesley Covenant Prayer jars our spirit as it calls us to pray, "Put me to suffering."  Suffering is not what we seek in our life and, yet, as the words of this prayer fall from our lips, we hear such a request to God.  If we do not take a deep breath and wonder what we are praying with these words, it is likely that we have become overcome with the dullness of rote repetition.    

The history of the Jesus movement going forth from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth is filled with men and women who did not count suffering for Christ too high a price to pay.  On August 4, 1964 a missionary named Burleigh Law became a martyr for Jesus while serving Him in the Belgian Congo.  Seventy years ago on January 8, Jim Elliot walked the road of suffering and death as he sought to take the gospel to a hostile and savage tribe of Ecuador.  While our journey for Christ may not take us to a martyr's death, there never has been a promise of a rose garden tour on a bright sunny day.  

Being put to suffering has a thousand looks.  As we ask God to help us comfort a soul fresh with grief, it will mean walking again within the pain of our own.  It is experienced in the heart of a pastor troubled by his willingness to defend his faith in Christ, but finding it harder to invite to Christ those who hear the defense.  There is suffering found in taking Jesus so seriously that others regard us as fanatics, or someone out of touch with reality.  Praying such a prayer may carry us into places filled with such intense suffering that our own bed of tranquility is never the same.  "Put me to suffering," we pray.  Really?