There and Back

I have read a good bit about heaven, but I have never been.  In recent years there have been some who say they made the trip, stayed awhile, and came back to their lives on earth.  They have told their story in books and even movies.  I am not one to say their story is not true.  The reason I cannot live with skepticism is because of the story of Lazarus.  It is not in me to say that the Holy Scripture propagates untruth and neither can I imagine Jesus not bringing Lazarus back from the dead. This is the story of 11th chapter of the gospel of John.   

Either Jesus went to the tomb of His friend who had been dead for three days and cried out with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" (John 11:43), or He did not.  I choose to believe He did and Lazarus did as he was told.  Did the spirit of Lazarus wander around in some invisible virtual space, or was he united with the God who created him?  I choose to believe not in his floating around in some strange world, but that in those days he experienced the glory of heaven.  I wonder, too, if Lazarus grabbed hold of the gate of heaven when he heard his name, or if he returned willingly at the call of Jesus. These are thoughts for speculation and might embellish a weak sermon, but the truth is Lazarus made the trip to the eternal home and then was called by Jesus to return.  

The truth is I know very little about the ins and outs of heaven, but I do know that the Word of God speaks of it as home.  God has not only come to dwell with us in the person of Jesus, but the Word tells us He will dwell with us, His people.  "See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be His peoples, and God Himself will be with them." (Revelations 21:3).  What heaven looks like is unimportant because of the One who dwells in this invisible realm.  It is and will be a realm empty of tears, empty of death, empty of "mourning and crying and pain."  (Revelation 21:4). I would not be a bit surprised if old Lazarus did not grab the gate and hold on for everything he was worth!

At the Cross

When I was a seven year old boy grieving for a father who died too soon, I thought a lot about heaven. I was told my father who was not here was in heaven.  I had no reason to doubt what I was told by those who knew more than me.  About the same time I concluded that if there was a heaven, there had to be a God.  I remember looking for Him in the white billowing clouds that blew across the sky.  Not knowing exactly where God could be found, it made sense to look upward toward where I figured heaven to be.  

Some respond to loss and tragedy with anger directed toward God.  Some declare He cannot possibly exist, or He would prevent tragedies like mine and others.  The seven year old boy I once was discovered his first awareness of God in the midst of impossible to understand loss.  From that time going forth, I had my eye open for God.  Of course, I never found Him with my seven year old understanding of God and heaven.  It was actually some years later that He found me and called me to forsake a dead end search.  Knowing God does not begin with finding Him, but in coming to see and know His revealing presence in the world.  

The One for whom so many like myself have searched cannot be found through our futile search, but can only be known through His revealing grace.  Many years after I was seven, I knelt at the foot of the cross of Calvary and the One I sought as a seven year old boy was revealed to me.  There I came to know God as the One who loved me enough to willingly suffer loss, grief, and a broken heart.  There at the foot of the cross, God revealed Himself as One full of forgiveness, unconditional love, and unfathomable grace.  At the foot of the cross the God I sought revealed Himself and showed me the way Home to the prize of heaven.    

Kneeling

Recently I have worshipped in the Catholic Church and the Episcopal Church.  I am not turning in my credentials as a Methodist pastor, I have just been visiting.  One of the things I have noticed is that these folks spend a lot of time on their knees.  Kneeling rails are on the back of each pew and everyone but me seemed to know exactly when the knee time began and ended.  Some people even come in and immediately go to the kneeling posture.  

I grew up in a Methodist tradition when kneeling was not as uncommon as a shooting star.  We did not kneel on kneeling rails in the pews, but went to the altar up front to kneel and pray.  Most Sunday night worship services (another anachronism) ended after prayer time at the altar.  It has been a long time since I have seen a Methodist kneeling.  Why, we don't even bother to kneel while receiving communion.  We just get up, walk up front, hold out our hands and receive the Communion without breaking stride.  It could be said that it is almost as fast as the drive through at the fast food joint.  

I commend my Catholic and Episcopalian brothers and sisters for kneeling so much.  I wish the church that ordained me could once again embrace the practice of inviting people to kneel.  Kneeling is good for the ego.  It gives it some much needed perspective.   Kneeling is good for the soul.  Modeling a contrite heart is a good thing.  An old friend and Episcopal priest used to say, "There is a God and it ain't you!"  Kneeling helps us remember. 

Morning Repentance

"Lord, I am not what I seem to be.  I find myself doing those things I ought not to do and at the same time I do not do those things that I ought to do. (Romans 8:19).  It is not the visible things I do which trouble me, but those thoughts and attitudes lingering in a heart which looks like to others that it longs for nothing but Your love.  Forgive me, Lord, Jesus.  Each time I come to the moment of receiving the bread and the cup in holy gatherings, I see Your unconditional love and the sin in me which still seeks to control.  

Along with all the others I must confess that I have sinned against You, not once, but more times than I can count.  How grateful I am for Your mercy and grace.  I must also confess, Lord Jesus, that my sin is not just in my thoughts, but also in my word and deed.  I see my neighbor in need and look the other way.  I find it too easy to justify my not doing by saying I know not what to do.  You have never asked anything of me except to love You with my whole heart and even this I fail to do.  The heart I have given is the heart I often reach out to take back.  Lord, how can You invite me to Your table?  

I know I am not worthy to be present, but to be present is life giving to this weary soul.  Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me and once again I ask for the blessing of Your forgiveness.  Strengthen me, Lord.  Keep showing me the way.  Enable me by the power of Your Holy Spirit to live in Your will and to know nothing but hunger for righteousness.  In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit I pray and ask once more for the blessings of grace which abide in Your heart.  Amen"

Morning Blessings

Bless the sun that rises to give light and life.  

Bless the tree that gives shade and fruit.

Bless the squirrels that find their home.

Bless the birds that herald the new day.

Bless the grass sparkling the new light.

Bless the wind that stirs the stillness.

Bless the gifts all these blessings give.

Bless You, Creator God, for every gift.

Bless You, Son, for the light of lights.

Bless You, Spirit, for showing the way.

Bless the gracious grace that gives life.

Bless the precious blood that was given.

Bless the tongues of fire still burning.

Bless the Kingdom here and coming.

Bless the ones overcome with fear.

Bless those who live full of hunger.

Bless lives long empty of any hope.

Bless the old ones living but forgotten.

Bless the bodies being eaten by disease.

Bless those who expect no blessings.

Bless souls who have forgotten home.

Bless the hurried on their way nowhere.

Bless the seekers of a different way.

Bless the souls who have had enough.

Bless the hearts who are thirsty for more.

Bless all those longing only for love.

Bless those who search for truth.

Bless all these folks for they are we. 

Morning Intercession

 "Lord, I am here again this morning to pray for some people in need of Your help.  I cannot help but remember that story Luke tells about four guys who bring a paralyzed friend to Jesus.  "They were trying to bring him in and lay him before Jesus, but finding no way...they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the middle of the crowd in front of of Jesus..."  (Luke 5:17-19).  

Lord, I want to pray like those four men.  I really care about the people for whom I pray.  Some of them are not going to live without Your help.  Some of them are battling needs far greater than they can meet own their own.  Some of them are really desperate for you to touch them.  I feel like I have been letting them down.  I know their need and I fall asleep while praying.  They have told me of their hurt and I often give up without being as persistent as those men on the roof who interceded for their hopeless friend.  Lord, I sometimes feel that the folks for whom I pray stay trapped in their circumstance because my prayers lack the expectation and the persistence of those roof top intercessors.  

As I say this to You, Lord, I want to cry for letting them down.  For letting You down, too.  I ask You to forgive me, Lord.  I ask You to use my inadequate prayers because these folks need the help of real spiritual intercessors and not those like me.  Let them not suffer because of my unfaithfulness.  And, Lord, keep looking up.  If You can help me in my weakness, maybe one day You will look up and see my face peering through the broken roof.  Amen."

Not A Snake Handler

There was a time, and perhaps that time still exists in some places, when some churches of the Appalachian mountains practiced snake handing in worship.  Of course, the snakes being handled were not the common rat snake which is found in barns, or the common green snake which stays hidden in the grass, but venomous snakes such the rattlesnake.  It is based on a few verses at the end of Mark which are not normally included in most of the ancient manuscripts. The supposition is that if you have faith the poisonous snake will not bite, or if it does, it will not be a killing bite.  

I thought about this today after coming home from worship in the local Episcopal Church.  This thought came as Communion was offered by use of a common cup.  Dipping the bread in the common cup is about as near as I can go to taking the cup and drinking from it after a hundred or more have had a sip.  Oh, I know wine is regarded as an antiseptic and I watched the priest wipe the cup after each person took a drink from the cup.  I even noticed the cup being turned just a tad after each person shared the common cup.  

Don't get me wrong.  I love Jesus.  The Sacrament which is shared is regarded highly.  There is nothing like sharing the Holy Meal with the people or God.  My problem is I did not even eat or drink after my own children and to drink after a room full of strange people is a bridge I cannot cross.  Intinction is about as close as I can come to sharing the common cup.  I guess I just don't have enough faith to think that a rattlesnake bite would not be fatal.  Neither can I force myself to believe that faith will wipe away all the germs from the holy cup.

Morning Gratitude

 "I ask not on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their words that they may all be one." (John 17:20).  Lord, I am one of those for whom You have prayed.  I am one of those who believes because of the way the word of Your disciples has rippled through the centuries to this very day.  Lord, I am their debtor.  I am Your debtor.  I have had many pray for me, but to know  that You have prayed for me is too high a thing to consider.  Thank You, Jesus, for holding even me in Your heart when You prayed that day long ago before the Father.  

I thank You, Jesus, for letting me know that the effects of praying is not bounded or limited by time.  I know now that the prayers I prayed do not die with me, but their power continues until that day when You might choose to use them for Your good.  I guess I thought that prayers had an expiration date on them, but I surely have been wrong in such a thought.  "How great are Your works, O Lord!"  (Psalm 92:5).  O Lord, You have prayed for me.  How can I thank You for this gift of Your prayers!  

And even more, how can I thank You for the prayers You offer for me today?  I remember what Your Words says and to remember stirs such gratitude in my heart.  "It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us." (Romans 8:34).  Lord, I know no words that are enough. The thought that You have not only prayed for me, but even now, in this very minute, continue to pray for me is more than my spirit can comprehend.  All I know to do is to thank You, Lord Jesus, Son of God.  Thank You.  Thank You.  Amen"

Morning Prayer

"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name.  Your Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread,  And forgive us...."  (Matthew 6:9-12).   Wait a minute, Lord.  You just said to pray, "Thy will be done."  Seriously, Lord?  If I pray, "Thy will be done,"  there is not much reason to continue to pray.  It seems to me this morning, Lord, that those four words about cover it all.  Maybe I have prayed all that is necessary and I can go back to the sheets from which I have come.  

The truth is my heart tells me there is more.  Before you started this prayer, You said to those who followed you and surely knew about prayer, "Pray then in this way."  (Matthew 6:8).  So, this prayer is not just one directed to the Father in heaven, but also a prayer offered as a teaching tool in our behalf.  After You prayed, "Thy will be done,"  You did not say, "Amen," but went on praying about specific things like daily needs, forgiveness, reconciliation, dealing with difficulties, and struggling with Satan.  Maybe "Thy will be done" appears to say it all, but then again, You obviously did not intend for those words to be a stopping point.  

In fact, I hear You teaching in this prayer that Your will cannot be done if we are not serious about the state of our own heart.  To pray these other things You mentioned points us forward into the unfolding life to which You are calling us.  It points us toward praying for these things to be accomplished in our own life as a way of bringing earth in alignment with heaven's intentions. So, help me Lord, to learn to depend on You, to put my ego aside for Your sake, and to live confident that no darkness or evil can overcome me.  This I know this morning to be Your will for this world around me and for this life You have given me to live within it.  Thank You, Jesus, for teaching us the way. Amen"  

Morning Praise

"Have you not known? Have you not heard?  Has it not been told you from the beginning?  Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?  It is He who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants  are like grasshoppers; who stretches out the heavens like a curtain and spreads them like tents to live in...Have you not known?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth."  (Isaiah 40:21-22; 28). 

The God we worship is the God of the mountain covered with lightning and thunder, the One who carved commandments into stone, the One whose bright glory caused the Hebrews to cower in fear.  The God we worship is the One who breaks into holy places causing those thought to be holy to fall on their knees crying out, "Woe is me!  I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips" (Isaiah 6:5).  The God we worship is the Christ, Son of God, who shouted out revolutionary, life changing words on the mountain and who knelt to weep and care for the broken.  The God we worship is the One who went to the cross to shed His blood and die for our sakes so that we could be free from the seeds of destruction we sowed in our life.   

"There in none like You, O Lord; You are great, and your name is great in might." (Jeremiah 10:6).  "There is none like You among the gods, O Lord, nor are there any works like Yours.  All the nations You have made shall come and bow down before You, O Lord, and shall glorify Your name."  (Psalm 86:8-9).  He is indeed the God of the Universe!

In and Out

When I was pastor of the St. John Church, one of our members was a charismatic kind of guy who worked as a morning radio host of a station which was known as the country and western station.  He was one of those guys who filled up the room when he entered.  Since he was a member of the church, I started listening to his morning show whenever I was traveling to the hospital.  I got to a place where I knew all the beer drinking, my woman did me wrong songs, well enough to sing along with musician doing the singing.  I not only knew them, I sang them all throughout the day.  

One day it came to me that all I was singing were these songs about drinking and broken hearts.  There were no longer songs of praise or hymns coming from my heart.  The songs I once sang about Jesus never came from my mouth.  With this realization came the realization that what we put in has something to do with what comes out.  It was about this time that I made the conscious decision to turn the radio dial to the local Christian station.  Let no one think that what we allow into our subconscious, or into our hearts does not matter.  

An old proverb reads, "Guard your heart, for from it flows the springs of life." (Proverbs 4:23).  Another important word from the Scripture we find in one of Paul's letters." "whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing , whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." (Philippians 4:8).  What we hear or read or allow to enter into our thoughts will have a bearing on the way we live.  What comes out has something to do with what we allow to go in.

The Devil on My Shoulder

For the past few weeks I have been reading a novel regarded as an American classic by an author whose writing skill is unquestionable.  It is on everyone's "should read" list so I decided it was time.  Three hundred pages into the six hundred page journey, I laid it down, closed it, and decided I could read no more.  It was a strange decision since it was a real page burner.  I could not lay it down, but then I came to a place where I had to put it aside.   

The reason may seem strange to some.  One of the primary characters, was in the book described as a monster, and the evil unleashed by this character finally became too much.  I came to a place where I felt like the devil was sitting on my shoulder.  I was so caught up in the unfolding tale that I was carrying the book with me.  I was picking it up in the morning before the Scripture.  I felt the evil depicted by this evil character was becoming a part of me.  My spiritual life was drying up and the inspiration for writing my blog was slipping away.  I realized last night at three o'clock when I woke up and grabbed the book that it had too much of a hold on me and maybe the same could be said of Satan.  So, the book is closed for the last time.  

I do not name it lest I encourage someone with curiosity to check it out.  Maybe it would not effect anyone like it has me, but I know the subtle power of Satan is using it to get a hold of a heart that I want to be controlled and influenced by the Holy Spirit.  I want to do my part to make the heart He seeks to use for the good of Christ completely available to Him.  "Discipline yourself, keep alert.  Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around looking for someone to devour.  Resist him." 

The Place of the Spirit

The heart of the church is the Holy Spirit which is why I declare "The church is a spiritual community centered on Jesus and empowered by the Holy Spirit."  The second chapter of Acts makes it clear that it was the Holy Spirit who energized and gave life to those men and women gathered in Jerusalem transforming their fear filled and uncertain community into a spiritual power that not only touched the whole world but has continued to do so some 2000 years later.  The church is not a static community or institution though it often seems to be headed that way; instead, it is the incarnate presence of Christ in the world.    

The Spirit is the heart of that spiritual community.  The Spirit birthed the church and it has sustained it through the centuries.  Even as our body depends on a beating heart so does the church depend on the heart which gives it life and sustains it.  The church cannot function without the Holy Spirit.  Certainly, there have been times in its history when it has seemed that the work of the Spirit was forgotten by those who gave leadership to the church.  

The church may have great leaders, but none can provide the spiritual energy the spiritual community of the church needs to be the church it was created to be.  Anyone who has witnessed the Holy Spirit bursting through the structures of the institutional church knows that it is the Spirit and the Spirit alone which is needed for the life of the community we call the church.  Without that holy empowerment the church is no church at all.  It is instead a gathering of people who are only making a difference in their own minds. 

Fleshing out the Definition

A personal definition of the church is:  "The church is a spiritual community centered on Jesus and empowered by the Holy Spirit."  We are a part of many communities.  Young families find community on ball fields where their children chase soccer balls, run with footballs, and hit balls with sticks.  There are other communities associated with membership in civic clubs and the nine to five work world.  Some are related to family and there are even some which come about as a result of church involvement.  

What is unfortunately true is that some churches do not really meet the criteria of this personal definition.  For some members of churches the business connections or the social status is the reason for being present.  It has nothing to do with seeking a spiritual community centered on Jesus.  It is also true that today's contemporary church is often more focused on politics, gender issues, and social activism.  In such places Jesus is not the center, but someone who lives out on the fringe.  

Strangely enough there are some gatherings known as churches where the name of Jesus is not really mentioned with any regularity and when He is mentioned, it is as One who stands alongside leaders of other religious communities.  Any gathering which calls itself a church and is not centered on Jesus is little more than a pretend Christian community.  It may do many thing in service to individuals and the community, but those thing not done in the name of Jesus do not make it a spiritual community centered on Jesus, or a church.

A Definition

An old definition of the church came back to me in these recent days.  It is not one I found in a book on church growth, nor does it have the polish of a theological statement.  It was one I wrote during the days when giving leadership to the church was mine to do.  For some reason it came back to me a day or so ago.  It is simple rather than profound.  "The church is a spiritual community centered on Jesus and empowered by the Holy Spirit."  It served me well back then and, as I recall, it found its way to the front of the church bulletin.   

It is important to remember that the church is a spiritual community.  Obviously, it is not a building, but more importantly the definition declares that the church is not what it has become in many places.  In many places the church has lost its sense of being a spiritual community and has, instead, become a religious institution which gives lip service to service while institutional maintenance and survival is its main business.  

Like the Kingdom of God the church as a spiritual community is both here and not yet here.  It is visible and yet also lives in an invisible realm still to be seen fully.  The word "community" has always seemed to be an appropriate way to speak of the body of Christ in the world.  The place of belonging which we seek is best experienced in this spiritual community which is described in the New Testament word "koinonia."  We may be members of many communities, but none can provide for the needs of our soul as does the spiritual community in which we experience a oneness with God.

The Wrestling Match

When reading the parables of Jesus in the book of Matthew, I had no intention of getting hung up on the Parable of the Wedding Banquet (Matthew 22:1-14), but I did.  Actually, I have been wresting with it all week.  This Kingdom of Heaven parable seems easy enough to figure out.  The King plans a wedding banquet for His son, but those who had a heads up on the invitation decided not to come so in their absence he invites the whoevers from the streets.  The chosen had no interest in coming, are judged as unworthy, and the least of the streets were invited.    

The wrestling match came in the final verses of the parable with a single uninvited guest showing up midst the celebration.  The King notices him because he is not wearing a wedding robe which had apparently been given to all the invited guests.  As I wrestled with his presence in the parable I kept asking "Who is he?  Why did he come?  Why did he make no attempt to hide his uninvited presence?"  None of my questions resulted in answers.  Finally, after several days of struggling with his presence in the parable, I came to a conclusion.  

It may not be the scholar's conclusion.  It may not even be the right one, but it is mine and so I will claim it.  The guy who shows up in verse 11 is a man who sings, "I did it my way." He is the man who sees himself as the exception. He is the one who does as he pleases with no regard for the consequences.  It sounds like a description of a person who has no regard for the ways of God which is what we all are expressing when we choose disobedience over obedience, sin over righteousness.  I started seeing myself as I saw him.  And I started thanking God for grace instead of separation from Him.  

Without Expectations

At first I thought maybe I had heard something that was not being said so I listened more intently to the one in the pulpit.  "Every grace comes with an expectation."  The theme of the sermon was spoken too many times to be ignored which, of course, was the intent of the one preaching.  I kept listening not really believing what I was hearing and then as the sermon reached its conclusion, he said, "God invests in us and He has expectations."  

My problem comes because of a definition of grace.  My statement about grace would be, "Grace comes with no expectations."  I have come to be who I am believing that God's grace requires nothing from us.  It does not require a certain moral lifestyle.  It does not require a disciplined spiritual life.  It does not require any act of service.  It does require expectations.  Grace comes with no strings.  No expectations.  It is freely and unconditionally given.  What I do, or do not do, or what I promise to do has no bearing on the grace of God.  

Grace is not about one gift being given with the expectation that one will be given in return.  It is true that the cross where Jesus died speaks of a gift of love from our Father God, but it also speaks about the grace in His heart which He gives to us.  Jesus' death upon the cross requires nothing from us to be a means of salvation.  Through our faith, that salvation may be experienced, but should we choose not to respond in faith, it would not change what God has done for us.  Because of His love and grace, a way has been made for us to be at one with Him again.  The choosing may be up to us, but the giving has always been His to do. 

The Practice of Exclusion

This past Sunday I worshipped at a Roman Catholic Church.  While I could never be a card carrying member of the Catholic Church, there are things about it which I wish could be found in my own denomination.  The church is not afraid of the Scripture which is to say readings are offered from the Psalms, both New Testaments, and the Epistles.  Any Methodist preacher who read that much Scripture in worship would be run out of town on a rail!  I also like the reverent attention given to the Holy Sacrament.  It is not a hurried addendum to worship, but the central part of it.  

What would forever keep me away from Catholicism is the practice of exclusion at the Table.  Of course, this practice of exclusion is not just a Catholic thing.  Other churches require denominational membership, or confirmation, or membership in the particular church the Communion is being offered.  While there are many things which trouble me about the church which ordained me, I am grateful for its practice of the open Table.  Anyone who shows up is welcome.  I have offered the Sacrament to the dying who claimed no church membership and to the young children whom folks said could not understand.  My only comment is that neither can I.   

The Table does not belong to a church, or to a pastor or priest, or to a set of requirements allowing for some and excluding others.  It belongs to Jesus.  Men and women may officiate at the Table but it is the Table of the Lord.  Long ago Jesus sat at a Table with His disciples, broke the bread, handed them the cup, and said "Do this in remembrance of Me."  Judas Iscariot was there waiting to be served.  If Jesus would serve the one who was to betray Him, how can anyone be turned aside?

Unfolding Seasons

Back in 2013, Ann Voskamp wrote a book entitled "1000 Gifts."  It was one of those books which really impacted my life.  One of the specific things which I did after reading her book was to start a Gratitude Journal.  The lasting lesson I learned from her journey through her personal darkness was that we can still live with gratitude.  As Paul wrote, it is possible to live thankful in all circumstances.  When I saw her next book, "The Broken Way," I immediately purchased it only to find that I could not even stay with it long enough to finish the first chapter.   

Books are interesting creatures for more than one reason.  Not only do they give us information, or entertain us, but they also have a knack for appealing to us at different times in our life.  Last week I pulled "The Broken Way" from the shelves and found it a book I had to read.  I wondered about the difference in then and now.  Why was it so easy to lay down unread years ago only to be something I have to read in the now moment of my life?  The book has not changed, but I have.  We are all constantly changing.  The ancient writer of Ecclesiastes said, "There is a season for everything under the sun..." and, of course, he was right.  

As those who trust in Christ, we believe that the Holy Spirit is constantly shaping us so that we are more closely resembling the heart of Christ.  Another factor of change are the years and the experiences that are a part of our lives.  As we embrace the changes and the Change Agent, we move into different seasons of our life where things of the past no longer fit and also where things dismissed in the past have a way of finding a place in the new season which is unfolding before us.

The Sweetest Gift

It is such a sweet moment, 

the sweetest of all, some say,

the moment just after here 

slips silently into sleep

where rampant thoughts

disappear and reappear

in a dark field of dreams.

 

Quickly comes the moment,

and no matter how long 

the mind's eye looks to see,

it comes and then is gone,

only knowing it has come

when the Spirit stirs within

making there, here again.

 

'Tis God's gift, this moment

when sleep gives release 

to the weary needing rest,

the troubled needing peace,

and the lost needing the way.

For a season, troubling things

go away into sleep's eternity.

 

But, always comes the moment

when light breaks on the morn,

sometimes here, sometimes there.

What is known as here is there,

what cannot be seen is seen.

The eye beholds the new day,

or the land beyond  the river. 

My Answer

The question I asked in my blog posting yesterday was a surprise to those who read what I am writing which might explain why there was only one reader who responded.  In retrospect it is not something most of us can answer on the spur of the moment.  As one person suggested it might require some reading and thinking.  If only one page from the Old Testament and only one page from the New Testament could be kept while the rest was thrown away, what would those pages, or chapters, or passages be?  Maybe it was not a fair question to spring on a unsuspecting mind and heart when I have been wrestling with it for years.  

If I could only have one page from the Old Testament it would be the one containing the creation story recorded in chapter one.  It has come to be a foundation stone for my faith as well as my understanding of who I am in this world created by God.  It is a passage that begins with the coming into being of the eternal light which then shines in and through everything else that was made and is being made.  The climax of the creation comes as "God saw everything He had made and indeed it was very good."  (Genesis 1:31)  I love the inclusiveness of those words, "everything...very good."   

My New Testament choice is John 1:1-14.  Known as the Prologue of John's gospel, it connects what was written about the beginning with the new beginning which came with the Incarnation.  The eternal light present in the creation is described by John as being present in the flesh of the Son of God.  Though darkness has taken hold of the creation since the beginning, Jesus has come to penetrate the darkness and overcome it completely.  As we read and know the Incarnate One revealed to us by the writing of John, we are reminded again that all life has come into being through the eternal light, the One known as the Light of the World.  Again, toward the end of the passage, we are swept away by that word which says, "But to all who received Him, who believed in His name, He gave power to become children of God..." (John 1:12)

A Biblical Experiment

What is the most important page in the Old Testament?  What is the most important page in the New Testament? There is no reason to be afraid of answering.  There is no right or wrong answer.  It is a question which reflects personal choice.  There is another way of asking the same question.  If for some unimaginable reason it was only possible to have one page from the Old Testament and one page from the New Testament, what two pages would be kept?  What passages are the foundational and sustaining passages?  

The answer would not only reflect a personal decision which might be different from someone else, but is could well be an answer that would be different today from the one which might have been given during another season of our life.  Maybe it is not a question worthy of much pondering, but being retired provides time for pondering things never before thought to be ponderable.  What set me off on this Biblical tangent was remembering a story from my Asbury College days that had long been forgotten until this morning. A missionary was describing the church in China.  He spoke of Christians possessing not a whole Bible, but only a torn out page or two.  What the missionary was underscoring for those of us who had Bibles we never read was the value the persecuted church had for the sacred Scripture.  

Perhaps, this morning pondering will provide a different window for reading  the Scripture for a few days.  Maybe the place to start is to list the ten most important passages in the Old and New Testament and then to begin a slow process of elimination until only one is left.  Some might declare such to be a waste of time and maybe it is, but it might also be an exercise which would help us know what is really important about this faith of ours.  It might help us understand the core values of our system of belief.

A Season of Blessing

The house here at the farm has become my home.  It is a simple place.  Very simple.  Perhaps, not so in the beginning, but over the years it has become a symbol of how God is calling me to live.  Simple, of course, is a relative word.  The fourteen hundred square foot home in which I live would be considered extravagant by some villagers of Uganda whom I have seen recently through the words of a Franciscan missionary.  At the other end of the spectrum, there are surely those who think it would be an impossible place to live.  For me it has become a good fit.  It is a visible call to simplify.  

One of the luxuries of my home is a ten by twelve porch out front.  This week in a way that has been special God has used it to bless my heart.  A few days ago a neighboring farmer and friend spent an hour or so sitting on the porch sipping a glass of ice water and chewing the fat.  Another day that same porch became a place to watch and feel the rain coming across the hay field and last night it provided a front row seat to a glorious full moon rising.  Certainly, it was not a trip to see the wonders of the world in far away places, but no one can convince me that I have not in the last few days seen and experienced wonders of the world.   

It is a good thing to be rooted somewhere.  It is a good thing to live in a place that invites me to live the slower life.  Here at the farm, things do not happen in a hurry.  The hay harvested yesterday took months to grow as did the pecan crop which hangs heavy in the trees.  I am sure there have been many who have wanted to live leaving their mark on the world, but here in this simple place I have learned that it is the Creation of the Heavenly Father that is leaving its mark on me.  It is a season of contentment and gratitude.  It is a season of blessing.   

Wet Grace

I knew you were coming, friend rain.

In the field wet with sweat, I saw 

you hovering in the distant gray

as if you were gathering strength

to come my way to renew and bless

the work of my hands on the land

and for this gift, I give you thanks.

 

With tractor now sheltered, and I

settled in a chair on the porch,

I heard what was seen coming

from the distant there to here

and when I knew you were near

I wanted to jump from the porch

and share a dance of joy with you.

 

But, old friend, such days are gone.

Father time and old stiff knees 

have taken away my two step,

but still I slowly rise and go

out from under the roof above

to the air now more than filled

with falling baptismal waters.

 

What is old now knows the new

that comes from being washed

with that not earned, but given

to this weary and worn out soul.

Wet now with what has come,

I raise these aching two hands

in praise to the One who gives. 

Words about Grace

The twentieth chapter of Matthew records Jesus telling the parable of the landowner.  The landowner goes out early in the morning to hire workers for his vineyard.  Several times during the day he goes back to the place where those wanting to work gathered to hire more workers.  Finally, when the sun had about an hour of daylight left, he goes back to the gathering place to hire another group to work the last hour of the day. The problem revealed in the parable is that he pays the ones who worked an hour at the end of the day the same amount he pays those who started and worked the whole day.   

What seems to be a parable about an unfair labor practice is at a deeper level a parable about the grace of God.  Those who worked the whole day felt they deserved more than those who came at the end of the day.  Few of us would disagree.  If we had been one of those who arrived in the field before the sun was up, we would be hollering, "It is is not fair.  I deserve more than these others."  What the parable boldly declares is that grace received is not based on what we do.  To say that grace is dependent on our human effort would deny the meaning of grace.  

The first thing which must be understood about God's grace is that it is a gift from Him. It is not a Christmas gift exchange.  It is not something that comes to us because we have given to Him.  Our birth is a gift.  The air we breathe is a gift.  The wealth we have and the life of affluence we enjoy is not something we have earned, it is a gift.  This is not to say that we have not worked hard, but it is to say that the ability, the energy, the health, and the opportunity is not ours to claim for it is a gift from God.  Life is about grace.  Life is lived and enjoyed because God blesses us unconditionally with His grace.  It is not something we deserve or earn.  All we can do is be grateful.

The Bottom of the Barrel

I remember once upon a time in my ministry when I had an argument with God which ended up much like the one Job had with God.  It was a time when I was wallowing around in a sea of self pity.  Those of us who sign on as Methodist preachers submit ourselves to going where sent, or at least, it used to be that way.  The place I was sent had more than its share of problem people who found fault with most everything I did.  I had been serving churches for more than just a few years, but at this one I started whining and complaining like those Hebrews who after sixty five days of freedom complained against Moses (and God) because of their hunger in the wilderness. (Exodus 16:1-30).  

I not only complained to God about the people He had given me to shepherd, but I also told Him I deserved better than what He had given me.  It was an argument that ended up like the one Job had with God.  I told God I deserved a better place to preach and He told me I did not deserve any place to preach.  I had enough sense to know He was right.  I did not deserve even the smallest church and certainly not the larger congregation to which I preached each Sunday.  I did not deserve any pulpit to preach and only had one because of the grace of God.  

Life really is all about the grace of God.  Grace given is not what any of us deserve.  We may say that people should get what they deserve, but such a conviction falls apart as soon as we start talking about ourselves.  Who among us wants what we deserve when we can receive the undeserved and unconditional grace of God?  The truth is none of us would trade the world of grace for the world of getting what we deserve.  The opportunity I have been given to preach the gospel is not something I deserve.  I have often said when God called me to preach, He was scraping the bottom of the barrel. As one rescued from the bottom of the barrel, I am grateful for the grace of God.

Sleepy Prayers

I have met God so many times in the early morning that I have decided it must be His best time.  Of course, that raises a deep and profound theological question.  When is it morning for our God who does not measure time as we mere mortals measure it?  In the midst of my early morning theological pondering, I remember, "God neither slumbers nor sleep."  (Psalm 121:4.  I remembered, too, the way Elijah taunted the prophets of Baal on Mt Carmel by asking them if their gods were asleep because He knew Yahweh was wide awake and ready for whatever.  

I must confess that there have been those times in my early morning meetings with God when He might have nodded off due to boredom.  After all, when He hears the same prayers prayed in the same way over and over again, what else could He be expected to do.  I know I have fallen asleep in some of my early morning conversations with Him, but I also know that whenever I do drift off and wake up, He is still watching and listening.  God is certainly steadfast in more ways than one.  

There was a time years ago when I invited people to a prayer experiment and which required waking up at 5 am on Sunday morning and praying for an hour.  Some suggested six o'clock since it was closer to normal waking up time, but the point of the earlier hour was intentionality and not convenience. Surprisingly, there were always about twenty early morning risers during the several years of this ministry of prayer.  Again, I must confess.  There were times I fell asleep, but I took consolation in the fact that I was where I committed to be. 

Words for the Journey

A Thomas Merton quote came to me this morning while doing some reading. "We are often confronted by questions that we cannot answer because the time for answering them has not yet come."  I have turned the page and closed the book, but the words still linger in my mind.  Oh, I have gone on about other things; yet, when my mind comes to a neutral position, the quote comes again with such force that it cannot be ignored. Is it, perhaps, a word that helps us understand the silence from God that often follows some question we are asking Him?  Does it explain the moments when He seems to be saying "No" when we want to hear "Yes" ?   

While these thoughts are possibilities that might help us unlock the meaning of the quote, the authors of the book highlighted it to enable the readers to understand that the spiritual life is a journey.  A spiritual journey is a venture into the unknown.  The prototype for the sojourner is Abraham who heard God calling him to go to a land not yet revealed.  Regardless of how much of a planner we might be, if we choose to walk with Jesus we are going to walk into unplanned moments and unchartered territory. It might be said that when we travel with Jesus, we do so on a need to know basis.  

The questions that we cannot answer may be the Spirit's way of pushing us forward into a season of knowing what cannot be understood until we get further along the way.  Such a way is hard to embrace in our culture of instant gratification.  It is hard to accept when a hand held device can be asked any question and an answer comes instantaneously.  Culture's way is not God's way.  God's way is the way of not knowing.  It is the way of mystery.  It is the way of trusting that when the time for answering the unanswerable questions comes, what we strive to know will be revealed to us. 

A Grandfather's Gift

I ran up on an essay today about John Bunyan's "The Pilgrim's Progress."  As many know it was written while Bunyan was enduring a twelve year imprisonment.  This allegory of the Christian life is a religious classic.  When I finished the essay I thought about the man who gave me my first copy of the book. His name was the Rev. William Raymond Wilder, Sr.  When his son married my widowed mother, he took on a grandfather role in my life.  

Actually, my copy of Bunyan's book came to me when he died in 1970 and I was given a number of the books from his personal library.   The books I received from him were the first ones which went on the shelves of this young about to be a preacher.  His books introduced me to G. Campbell Morgan, E. Stanley Jones, Charles Spurgeon, G. Ray Jordan, and someone as unusual as Billy Sunday. "The Pilgrim's Progress" was then and continues to be regarded as a treasure.  It was an old worn volume when I got it and so it has remained.  It's pages had been turned many times and I continued turning them over the years. 

Anyone who has yet to read Bunyan's allegory would do well to pick up a copy and begin to read.  It describes a character known as Christian as he leaves the City of Destruction and journeys toward the Celestial City.  The trials and temptations he encountered will resonate with each one of us as we continue our own personal journey with Jesus.  When I gave my five minute retirement speech at Annual Conference back in 2010, I was proud to identify myself as a third generation Methodist preacher. 

Matthew 6:24

The preacher whom I heard this morning preached from a great story in the book of Acts.  Of course, the book of Acts is full of great stories, but this one was about Paul and Silas being thrown into prison for freeing a young woman of a spirit of divination.  She made money for her owners by telling fortunes and when Paul ordered the spirit out of her, it took away a source of income from the man who owned the slave-girl.  Anyone who knows anything about anything knows that upsetting the economic cart of anyone or any church can result in serious consequences.  

Paul and Silas ended up in jail.  Preachers have freedom to preach about most anything, but if serious sermons start coming from the pulpit challenging people to examine how the use of money and faith in God are connected, there are liable to be people who will tell the preacher to get back to preaching the Bible.  The truth is the Scripture has a great deal to say about our attitude toward wealth.  Jesus was about as forthright as one can be when He said, "No one can serve two masters...You cannot serve God and wealth."  (Matthew 6:24).  Jesus also told that parable about the rich young ruler who would not follow Jesus because he could not turn loose of his money.  

It has come as a rude awakening to many to realize that the money they hold actually has a hold on them.  Not only does it have a hold on them, but the accumulation of money can have such power over us that it becomes a spirit that controls us as surely as the young slave-girl was under the influence of an evil spirit.  It is really not hard to figure how much having becomes more important than giving.  Look at the church budget and figure how much is spent on maintenance and how much is spent on missions.  Look at the household budget and figure how much is given and how much is kept.  When all the pencil work is done, go back and figure on Matthew 6:24 again. 

Epiphanies in the Ordinary

After I had been here at the farm for a spell, I began to realize I was somewhere I had never been before.  While I had stood in awe at many a sunset, marveled at towering mountains, and felt I was standing at the edge of eternity when I saw unending waves crash onto the shore, I never saw the majesty of the minutiae in  the unfolding creation in which I was immersed.  I had never considered the fact that I could never see the same river twice.  It never occurred to me that the trees which seemed like forever were actually changing each day.  Neither did I know that the God who moved in the first Garden could still walk midst the garden I was growing.   

One of the most surprising things discovered as I learned about life in this place was the ordinary.  Through the ordinary God could make His presence known.  The crosses and candles and altars of the church were special things, but none of those symbols were required for God to make Himself known.   In the ordinary God quietly and softly spoke as surely as His voice thundered through the voices of Old Testament prophets such as Isaiah or Jeremiah.  Every day was a moment for something new to appear.  There were birds hatching in the blue bird boxes, pecans moving toward maturity in the trees, and wind that brought a cooling breath into worn, tired, and hot bodies.  

I could never have imagined God bringing such epiphanies into my life.  I knew about Epiphany Sunday, but not about daily epiphanies of grace.  Of all the lessons learned through creation's baptism, it is the lessons about grace that have been most constant.  I have learned and continue to learn that nothing is really about me, even less is about what I have done, and everything is about the grace of God.  The grace of God is at the beginning of everything.  It is like a strong thread which holds life together.  It is what has brought me this far and as the old song says, "it is grace which will lead me Home."  

Celtic Spirituality

Celtic spirituality had its beginning in Ireland and Scotland back as early as the third or fourth century.  It is often frowned upon as being so focused on nature and creation that it is pantheistic. It is true that the Celtic Christians often baptized places and rituals associated with pagan Druid worship so that what was pagan became Christian, but what was embraced was not pantheism, but panenthesim.  For example, some grove of trees associated with Druid worship was regarded as such sacred space that the emerging saints of Celtic spirituality re-imaged it into a sacred place for Christian worship.  

One of the things which makes Celtic spirituality a unique creature of religious life is that it came into being without being under the influence of the institutionalized Roman Church.  The theology developed by its saints was not influenced by Roman thinking; thus, what came into existence was an order of religious life not bound by the theology being developed by Augustine who preached total human depravity.  Celtic spirituality looked into the face of the baby and declared that it was not evil which was present, but goodness.  It was a faith established on the belief that there were two books of authority.  One was the written Scripture and the other was the creation.  One was the little book and the other was the big book.   

It is not surprising that when the Roman culture began to move back into the regions of England after some two hundred years of being absent that there would be a theological clash.  The conflict between the institutionalized Roman Church and Celtic spirituality came to a head in 664 at the Synod of Whitby.  The outcome of the Synod affirmed the Roman tradition and the stream of Celtic spirituality began to lose influence until it became a fringe element in the religious life of the land and its people. It has only been in recent years that the practice of the Celtic traditions has found a new place in a church that has become so institutionalized that it could be losing its heart. 

Working up a Sweat

This Sunday I am going to be preaching just up the road at a small church I served as pastor immediately after retiring.  I could say that I got an invitation which sounds better than the truth which is I volunteered.  When they get the word that I am coming, there may be a lot of weekend trips planned!  Regardless, I will show up to preach.  When I started preaching back in 1971, I had three small churches on a Charge.  It was in the day of Sunday evening worship.  The congregations were all small and sometimes evening worship crowds really did not measure up to the definition of a crowd.   

I can remember times of preaching to a single digit congregation.  Most of the time the standard length of my sermons was a little less than ten minutes; however, there was one night I got to going and could not find the conclusion so I just kept on preaching till I could think of nothing else to say.  When I finished a laymen told me that I did not need to shoot the whole load on so few people.  It could be a problem this week as well since I only preach now and again.  I will have to be careful not to unload four months of not preaching into one sermon!   What I have learned is that regardless of the frequency of preaching, or the size of the congregation, it is still serious business to stand in the pulpit to speak a word which meets the criteria of being "the word of God for the people of God." 

I find myself pondering the Scripture more intensely this week.  As I pray I am mindful of my need for the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  It is only Tuesday, but Sunday is beginning to loom large on the horizon.  The other day I came in from tractor work soaked with sweat, but I was not complaining.  After months of battling the residual weakness of chemo, it felt really good to be able to work up a sweat.  When Sunday comes, it will feel good to be able to sweat a bit while I am gifted to once again preach the Word of the Lord. 

The Gift of Silence

The farm has given me its silence.  It allows me to share in it, be a part of it, and to be blessed by it.  It is a gift I never really sought, but once received, it has been life changing.  It is as if I have been dropped in a deep river able to know nothing but the water all around me.  So, it is with the silence.  I am immersed in it, deeply immersed.  Immersed within it, I am learning to live, to think, to be, to know myself, and to know who created me.  The gift of this silence is like the gift of a stone thrown into the pond, there is no end to the rippling power in my heart.  

There is no edge it has not touched.  There is no depth it has not gone.  There is no barrier which stands in its way.  The silence and I have become the same.  There is a oneness in those moments when I simply allow myself to be, asking nothing, expecting nothing, but experiencing everything.  This silence is surely a living silence as surely as everything in creation lives.  As the trees and the grass has been given life, so has the silence in which I am immersed.  I can feel it moving as it breathes.  I can hear the beat of its heart.  It, too, along with me and every living thing which God has placed here is alive and to it and everything else I am connected and joined.  It is a gracious and undeserved blessing.  I am grateful.

In the silence of the farm I have read the first chapter of Genesis.  Not once, but many times.  Many, many times.  What was there before the noise of the animals?  What was there before the waves of the sea touched the shores of land?  What was there before the sounds of men and women talking in the Garden? Before things were created for the ears to hear, there was the silence.  It is a silence that was not quenched by the sounds created in Genesis, but a silence that continues to exist as surely as does the created earth and air itself.  As did all created things, we came into being out of the silence.  When we learn to live in the ever existing silence, we will know what it is to live.  We will know what it is to be home.

The Call of God

Back in the day some sixty years ago, the word I heard that changed the direction of my life was commonly known as a call to preach.  As the years rolled into an era of many specialized ministries, the term I knew became out dated.  No longer were people called to preach; instead, they were called to ministry.  It is, perhaps, a better way of speaking of that moment when someone realizes their life no longer belongs to them in the sense that God wants them to be involved in a life of full time service in His behalf.  

God's call is a powerful thing.  Because of it Mother Teresa went to the poorest of India and washed the feet of those so sick no one would touch them.  Because of it E. Stanley Jones passed up on opportunities to live safely in a college professor's office and also went to India.  Because of it Burleigh Law became a martyr in the Congo.  Because of it some college friends lost themselves in service to the forgotten in a large metropolitan area.  Because of it many of those who grew up in my day became preachers in churches scattered across this state and beyond.  There is no end to what men and women will do simply because they have heard the voice of God calling them to let go of personal dreams and plans in order to embrace His plan for their lives.  

The truth is God's call comes to everyone of us in some form or another.  Sometimes it comes for a life time and sometimes it comes for a season.  When we say "yes" to Jesus we are not just saying, "Yes, I know You are my Savior," but we are signing up for whatever.  When we are baptized, it is not just a feel good moment in the church, but for those who take it seriously, it becomes a moment when one declares himself or herself available for the work of the Kingdom of God.  We are saying that God can count on us. I am amazed at the ministries to which some are called which require not a seminary degree, or ordination, but only a willing heart. 

Behold, the New Has Come!

Is it not a uncommon feeling to feel somewhat lost at times.  Feeling adrift and going know-not-where might be one way to describe it.  Someone else might speak of being uprooted from all that is familiar. Another might simply experience it as a feeling of "dis-ease."  Perhaps, the common denominator to all these images is not being sure who we are and where we are.  Certainly, it is not something we carry with us as the every day baggage of our life, but instead it seems that there are seasons of our life in which we experience these times of feeling dislocated and separated from our self.  

This should not be such a surprising moment when it appears for life is always changing.  It is always becoming, or to use one of my favorite terms, life is always unfolding before us.  It is the nature of life.  As life does what it is created to do, it brings us into new beginnings which usher us into what can only be described as the new normal for our life.  The old normal has passed away, behold, the new has come.  It sounds a bit Biblical, does it not? 

These new normal seasons may come to us in a traumatic way.  They may come as we struggle with a disease only known about but not experienced until today.  Or, they come after the loss of someone we love, or even through some unexpected change like the loss of a job, the death of a pet, or a near miss accident from which we walk away with no injuries, only surprise.  They also come to us as God leads us or takes us out of our comfort zones and the Holy Spirit finds Himself with the task of helping us to become rooted and settled in the new world which has become our home.  In these moments of not being sure who we are and where we are, trust and patience will enable us to make the uncomfortable journey from where we are to where God is planning for us to be. 

Wesleyan Economics

My first adventure as an entrepreneur came when I was just a young boy.  I went downtown in Waycross and hawked boiled peanuts for ten cents a bag.  I remember selling all my bags and coming home with $3.60.  It was then that my mother taught me my first economics lesson.  She said I should pay for the cost of the peanuts.  She would not charge me for her labor.  I did as she said and still had what seemed like a nice sum to a boy who had nothing in his pockets at the beginning of the day. The next part of the economics lesson caught me by surprise.  

"You need to take out 10% of what is left and put it in the offering plate tomorrow when we go to church.  The first 10% goes to God," she said as she concluded the lesson.  As I got older and became a more serious wage earner, I practiced and preached that spiritual discipline for two reasons.  It was Biblical and my mother taught me to do it.  On the way to where I am now, I learned the tithe was nothing to brag about; it was the minimum.  More recently I have been thinking about something John Wesley said about money in one of his sermons.  "Earn all you can, save all you can, and give all you can," surely makes a good three point sermon for any preacher.  

What has stayed with me during these recent reflections is the last phrase, "give all you can."  It is a word which takes us beyond being satisfied with giving God the minimum which is an easy choice to make.  There are many coffers of resources with which God blesses us. Whether we are talking about giving money, or our time, or our energy, or anything else, giving all we can is always a better choice than being satisfied with the minimum.

Before the Rising Sun

Before the rising sun came, 

the dream that tagged along, 

went, and I wondered, where?

Is it so for the other old men?

Do they dream dreams like me

to wake and watch them flee

before the cock a doodle do?

'Twas such a good one, too,

this now gone dream of mine.

I long to find it in memory,

to know again it is mine, 

but, alas, what has come

like all things that are here,

is gone to be no more.

If dreams reveal our soul,

I must venture forth now

without knowing the way

which in the dark unfolded.

Must I now step amiss

and stumble on some path

not intended for this day? 

O, Revealer, of all that is,

of all that is not yet to be,

guide these faltering feet,

make the dream a vision

wider than a single night,

one that will show the way

to this searching soul of mine.

Watch Out!

Prejudice is a hard thing to lick.  Real prejudice is rooted deeply in us because of the modeling influence of the important and influential people in our lives.  It can also be so imbedded in the culture around us that we do not see that it is evil, only that it is acceptable.  The Apostle Paul tells a telling story on Simon Peter in his letter to the Galatian Christians.  Peter, of course, has an impressive resume.  He was a disciple of Jesus for three years and not just any disciple, but one of three who were often pulled apart from the others for special moments with Jesus.  

He was the rock upon which Jesus said the church would be built and on the Day of Pentecost, he and the others were overpowered and filled with the Holy Spirit.  A disciple became a Spirit filled Apostle who preached the new church's first sermon at Pentecost.  Being a Jew, Simon Peter grew up in a culture that regarded non-Jewish people as second class.  Peter's culture taught him there were Jews who were God's chosen and everyone else was a Gentile whose status might have been a little higher than slaves, but not much.  

It would seem that a man so spiritually blessed would live by that word the Apostle Paul wrote.  In Romans 10:12 Paul wrote those revolutionary words,  "For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek, the same Lord is Lord of all."  When Peter went to Galatia to visit Paul and the churches he willingly ate with the Gentile converts, but when Jewish members of the Jerusalem Church came, Peter would no longer eat with the Gentiles.  Paul called Peter out for his hypocrisy that was birthed by a life time of prejudice against the Gentiles.  Be careful when saying, "I am not prejudice" for unless our heart is completely surrendered to God, it is likely to show up and surprise us. 

Rings and Repentance

I am a misfit in this society of ring wearers.  I grew up with the notion that rings are worn on the fingers of the hand and nowhere else.  Today rings are worn on the ears, the lips, the nose, the navel and other places which I leave to your imagination.  My problem with the ring wearers is my reaction to them.  I see them and immediately begin a process of mental devaluation.  I am not bragging.  I am confessing.  What I am doing is letting a judgmental spirit have a place in my heart which is surely troublesome to the Holy Spirit who is working to make my spirit reflect the heart of Jesus.   

This problem of mine, dare I call it sin, slapped me in the face the other day in worship.  I was visiting a church which I had never attended.  I saw a man dressed in the robe of the clergy.  His back was to me as I tapped his shoulder to ask a question about the Sacrament which was going to be offered.  When he turned around, I immediately saw his nose ring.  It was a small thing, but suddenly it was all I could see.  As I sat there in the pew, I started building my case against the young man.  Before I finished, he stood and preached a sermon I wish I could have preached.  It was indeed a Word of the Lord.  

As the holy bread was placed in my hand and I dipped it in the cup, I had much to repent.  Prejudice does not always show itself in something as obvious as skin color, but in the small and subtle ways we allow ourselves to put on robes of self righteousness and see ourselves and others in a way that is displeasing to God.  To live in a way that displeases God can only be defined as choosing sin.  Prejudice does this.  It drops in upon us in unguarded moments and the only real answer to the problem is a heart surrendered completely to the Holy Spirit.

The Demons of Prejudice

I am old enough to have memories of a day when prejudice was an accepted part of the fabric of the culture in which I lived.  It was a day when the signs of segregation were painted in bold letters that separated "whites and coloreds" at water fountains, a day when the illusion of separate but equal was accepted, and a day when white supremacy was the new master.  While some declare "not enough," we have come to a place where blacks and whites live more as one community rather than two.  

This is not to say that prejudice has disappeared.  It still raises its head to sow division, discord, and even hatred among people who choose to focus on differences instead of commonality. If given a free rein it can send people onto battlefields to kill one another.  The history recorded in books and the history being written reveals this awful reality.  Recently, while reading the Old Testament book of Ruth, I saw it as a story which was something more than a love story, or a narrative that recorded an important lineage thread.  Perhaps, it was because I had just finished reading the book of Judges where prejudice led to horrific battles where thousands were killed that I saw that the tiny book of Ruth pointed out how people who are different can choose to live together.  

It is a book from the Old Testament which points out that people can live honoring each other's traditions, respecting one another and their values, and creating communities of mutual care. In some ways it is a precursor of the not yet seen world of Jesus where neighbor was re-defined and prejudice was overcome by the heart transforming love of the Christ.  The world of the Incarnate Christ was certainly not a world empty of prejudice and the demons it gave birth.  In a world not so different than our own, Jesus showed us to the way to live in peace with one another.  

The Church Sign

For at least two years I have read a church sign which says, "Time Changes.  Jesus Does Not."  I have this thing about church signs.  The surest way to get people to ignore them is to never change them.  If this is their goal, the church down the road has accomplished it.  My problem is that I still read it.  Do I hope it might be changed?  Maybe, but after two years, I surely should let that hope die.  I have finally decided the church should at least add one more line to the sign which would read, "And Neither Does this Sign!"  

Though this church sign is likely to be the same when Jesus comes, everything else is changing.  Some of the change is harmful and some beneficial.  Some of it leads to a better world and some of it has within it the seeds of destruction.   History has shown us that the institutions of our society are slow to change and only change as a result of some kind of reaction that is revolutionary.  Institutions being threatened build their last bastions behind self-preservation.  The church as an institution seems to thrive in the world of "this is how we have always done it."  

It matters not if the church has been around several hundred years or just since yesterday.  The temptation is always to settle into a pattern of operation and to embrace a document of direction that makes change possible only by divine intervention of the Holy Spirit.  In too many places the church has lost that revolutionary spirit that became present on the Day of Pentecost.  The church in the book of Acts did not exist to fill its coffers, or to build shrines, but to share Jesus with the world.  The world does not need another political party, or another ism, but a church that is willing to shed the robes of the status quo for the revolutionary spirit of Jesus.

The Blessings of the Farm

I have learned many things from the farm.  It has been a place that has required a lot of sweat and work.  From the beginning it was my intent to tend it with care.  I  want to leave it without some heavy footprint to tell those who come after me that I was here.  I have done things like planting grass to stop good soil from washing downhill to the branch.  I have planted and pruned pecan trees, picked up dead fallen limbs, and harvested whatever crop it gave the land.  I have grown hay and provided a small herd of cows a home.  It often seems that there is no end to the things the farm ask of me.   

I somewhat expected this, but not to the extend that I experience it.  What has been surprising is the way the farm has given back to me.  If I have blessed it with attentive care, it has blessed me a thousand times more.  I have been blessed by the silence which fills this place.  In that silence I have learned to hear the soft but sure voice of God.  I have been blessed by the wisdom I have heard.  I have been blessed by many farmers who have been helpers and mentors. I have been blessed by the way the farm has filled my life with an awareness of creation.  I am not the person who left the pulpit and came to the farm and hopefully the man I have become is one that pleases the God who entrusted this land to my care.   

One of the most transforming lessons the farm has taught is that it does not belong to me.  My name is on the deed in the courthouse, but I have come to think of the farm as belonging not to me, but to its own self.  It has seen many like me come and go and there will many who will walk and work this place behind me.  The land is the constant.  It is never really owned by any of us.  The owner is, of course, the Creator God who has enabled me to share a span of time with the land that has given me a home and roots on this earth. What a wonderful blessing it has been and continues to be.  

Behind and Ahead

On this day in 1932 my mother was born as the last of nine children on a farm in deep South Georgia.  She grew up like most children of that day and region.  Necessities were mostly provided, but not much else.  Her childhood stories were not about dolls and fancy dresses, but picking cotton by hand alongside of older brothers and sister.  She gave me and my sisters many gifts.  She gave us an education she did not have, a work ethic that kept us away from any feelings of entitlement, and a deep and abiding faith in God.  She lived a long life and became one of those saints who made a difference in the places where God put her as she lived out those years.  

She died back during the days of covid, but I remember her today as one who became one of the foundational pillars of my life.  Any and everything I have accomplished in life is built upon the love and the sacrifice she offered in my behalf.  Whenever we foolishly began to think that what we have done with our own life is all about me, we need to climb down off the pedestal where we have put ourselves and look more closely at those who have made the way possible for us.  Hopefully, all of us have parents who stand first on that list, but there are surely others who have invested in us when we were mostly empty and trying to figure out what to do with the life given to us.  

There is a long list of neighbors, and teachers, and peers who have helped us to reach this point of our journey.  There are so many behind us who can no longer hear any words of appreciation, but we can express our thanks to them by being an enabling person to those who are walking along a little behind us.  In many places and in many ways the Word of God calls us to pass on our faith and the values that come with it to the generation behind us.  May we be as faithful as those who have come before us.

Remembering Wendell Berry

A member, perhaps, even more so,

of the membership past and present,

and stretching out into the beyond,

you still remain.  Though not here, 

but there, we will long call your name

as one who knew us as you knew

Jayber, Burley, Hannah, and Old Jack.

 

Long will we remember the farmer

who trailed along behind mules and 

the writer who shunned the keyboard

for the simple sheet of paper and pen.

You wrote as if you knew our hearts, 

as if you knew we were where we were,

but somehow still strangers far from home.

 

You always cared about us, Wendell Berry,

in ways we did not know we needed care.

Though Baptist we saw the heart of Francis

and in your love for the old ways, Thoreau.

When you entered into the world of memory,

we grieved, hugged books from the shelves,

and wished once more to hear your voice.

 

Thank you, for all you said and tried to do,

for all you wanted to do that was for our good.

Be blessed in the eternal holy membership

which is a part of the one lived in here.

Though your chair on the porch is empty

we know you  are in the other room, 

and we wait with hearts filled with memories. 

 

Wendell Berry (August 5, 1934-August 31, 2026) 

An Evening Prayer

This morning in a devotional time, I pulled an Episcopal resource, "The Book of Common Prayer" off the shelf.   As I turned the pages, I found an evening prayer that at one time not too long ago I prayed at night when my head settled on the pillow.  The changing seasons of life took me away from that discipline and as I moved forward into what was ahead, I left the prayer behind.  It was a surprise to find it again this morning.  It brought back some good memories and an awareness that I wanted to return once again to making this prayer a part of my evening discipline.  

The prayer from "The Book of Common Prayer" reads, "Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep.  Lord Christ, give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous, and all for Your love's sake." Amen."  The prayer took root in my heart during a season of being a caregiver when sleep was often hard to find.  More than I had been was I aware of people like nurses who worked in the night, of people who were weeping beside loved one, and of those who were watching for the morning to finally come to take the darkness away.   

It was also a prayer that served me so very well in praying for others.  I knew those, and still do, who need rest and blessing, comfort and mercy.  As Jesus prayed, "lead us not into temptation" so is it a good thing to pray that those who live only with its joys to be shielded from the darkness that is ever lurking.  This prayer of days past is going to become a part of the days that are present.  It is a prayer easy to memorize and pray in those moments when we put ourselves in God's hands one more night.

He is Still Here

According the Genesis the devil and the evil which he seeks to do in the world God has created has been around since the beginning.  In the Garden called Eden, he tempted Adam and Eve.  In the wilderness near the Jordan River, he tempted Jesus.  When Jesus taught His disciples to pray, He taught them to pray, "deliver us from evil, or "deliver us from the evil one." (Matthew 6:13).  When the Apostle Paul wrote the church at Ephesus, he included an admonition and warning.  "Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil...For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against...the spiritual forces of evil..." (Ephesians 6:10-12).  

Even though we pray that prayer about being protected from evil each Sunday when we gather for worship, no one really seems to take the devil seriously.  The devil C.S. Lewis reveals in "The Screwtape Letters" takes great delight in our quest to make his presence and power irrelevant.  The angels in the Kingdom of God might have had some concern about the God is dead movement decades ago, but the demons of the evil one take delight in our living as if he does not exist.  Given our culture one wonders if anyone, even the church, really regards the evil one as a serious and dangerous threat.  

Actually, the world is full of the chaos of evil.  We live in an age of constant warfare.  A spirit of division permeates our society.  People seem more interested in retribution and anger rather than reconciliation and forgiveness.  Ordinary folks like us who want to do the things that please Christ still find ourselves doing the things we do not want to do.  The ugly and mostly ignored word, sin, is still as present in our world as the evil one himself.  It is not just the world which needs the Savior Jesus Christ, but each one of us for Satan still "seeks to work us woe."  

Hearing the Voice

One of my favorite Biblical stories is found in the third chapter of I Samuel.  It is the story of a boy on his way to becoming a priest who would anoint Saul as the first King of Israel.  In the darkness of night the Lord called out to the young Samuel who was "ministering to the Lord under Eli."  (I Samuel 3:1).  Three times the Lord called his name and each time he went to Eli's bed thinking that it was his voice that was sounding throughout the Temple and into his heart.  Finally, Eli, the priest, told the boy, "Go, lie down; and if He calls you, you shall say, 'Speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening.'"  (I Samuel 3:9).  

In our day there are at least a few obstacles to hearing the Lord speak.  The first is becoming convinced that the Lord does speak.  Too many times the sound of His voice is unheard because our hearts are not open to hearing. We no longer have ears to hear what cannot be heard with the ears of birth.  A second obstacle is overcoming our fear of being in the silence.  Our lives are flooded with noise and visual distractions.  It is a hard thing for many of us to put ourselves in a position where the Holy Spirit can filter out the chaos so that we can begin to hear the whispering voice of God.  A third obstacle has to do with discernment.  There are many voices which can be heard when we do enter into the silence and it often takes time to know which voice belongs to God.  

If we are serious about learning to live in a world where God speaks to be heard, it requires that we go forth with a faith that declares His voice can be heard and a spirit that is willing to wait patiently and with expectancy.  There is no need for us to become spiritually tongue tied when we talk about hearing the voice of God.  While that voice is not likely to be heard like the sounds of those voices around us as we practice the disciplines of stillness and listening, there will come that time when His voice is not heard from the outside but from the inner place where His Spirit abides.

Just a Child

After Samson pulled the pillars on the pagan temple built by the Philistines to honor their god, Dagon, the era of the judges ended in Israel.  In that vacuum came a time of  political chaos as tribes vied for powers over others.  As we turn the pages and move away from the book of Judges, we see a time when priests like Eli and later Samuel would hold sway over the forward movement of the nation.  As the story of Samuel unfolds, we see Israel moving away from battling tribal chieftains to a time when Israel wanted a King so they could be like other nations.  

At the very beginning we read the story of the barren woman, Hannah, striking a deal with God. "O Lord of hosts,...if you will give to Your servant a male child, then I will set him before You..." (I Samuel 1:11).  The Scripture says the Lord remembered her prayer and she conceived and gave birth to a son whom she named Samuel.  True to her vow, when the boy was old enough to be weaned, he was as she said, "lent to the Lord, as long as he lives, he is given to the Lord,"  (I Samuel 1:28) and left at the temple of Shiloh to serve under the guidance of Eli.  

Thus, a boy was put in a place where God would prepare him to become a priest and shape a nation.  It is a story which brings to mind a word which the Lord spoke to the prophet, Jeremiah.  "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet..." (Jeremiah 1:5).  I remember many from my college days who were boys as was I when the Lord called:  Tom, Wayne, Gary, Rex, Jack, Jim, and Harold.  Like the boy Samuel, they were each brought to a place which God used to prepare them for what was ahead.  We can never know what God is doing in the heart of some young boy or girl who sits in the place of worship with us.

A Welcomed Break

Anyone reading the Scripture from Genesis to Revelation will find a welcome change when they turn the last page of the book of Judges.  The next book to be read is a story full of the human drama.  There is loss and grief, there is loyalty that goes beyond boundaries normally imposed upon people, there is the drama of a journey, and there is a love story that become a part of God's unfolding plan of redemption through Jesus of Nazareth.  

Ruth, a woman of Moab married a Jewish man who had journeyed from Israel with his mother to her homeland due to a famine in Israel.  When he died, Ruth chose to leave her homeland and return to Naomi's home in Bethlehem.  It makes for an interesting story for a number of reasons.  One, of course, is that Boaz, the Hebrew, marries Ruth and they have a child named Obed who is the grandfather of King David. The gospel of Matthew traces the genealogy of Joseph, the wife of Mary, the mother of Jesus with the words, "Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of David." (Matthew 1:5-6).  As the book of Ruth closes, we are catching a glimpse of the unfolding, but not yet, revealed plan of God for the salvation of the world.  

Another thing which makes the story of Ruth so compelling and relevant is the way it illustrates how different  people can live together peacefully, with respect for one another, and even with love for one another.  It is the story of broken barriers. What a change this is from the book of Judges where differences are resolved through bloodshed and power.  In this world of ours so filled with division, here is a reminder that differences need not engender hatred, prejudice, and violence.  People can live together in peace.  It is possible.  It is even possible in the divided communities in which we live.