Honoring the Beloved

Gayle and I attended a social function last week. It was a lovely affair, a beautiful celebration. Not knowing many people there I began to circulate through the gathering, finding out who was related to whom. I fell into a conversation with a delightful, easy-going man who had recently retired from a successful business that he built from sheer determination. Very admirable.  I found out that he was deeply involved in his church. He served for thirty plus years in some capacity or another, giving generously of his time, skill and money.

Then, out of nothing in our discussion he said, “I don’t like ‘The Thus and Such’ denomination.

My wife and I spent a few years visiting the Church of our Lord in all its various forms. In every church we found two consistent elements: A strong devotion to God and a sense of the presence of Christ. The Church of Thus and Such was no exception and I said so.  “Oh,” I said with a smile, “I like them.”

His countenance went from jovial to deadly serious, bordering on sour. His posture stiffened and his tone went flat. There entered our warm little chat a definite chill. Though I continued to extol (even pleadingly defend) the beauty of the Body of Christ as it appears in all denominations, the conversation was over. He became as antsy as a schoolboy waiting in line to use the  bathroom. He excused himself and slipped into the crowd, never to acknowledge us again.

I was surprised by this sharp animosity toward fellow believers. I wonder how extensive this hatred is. Is this the disease that is weakening the fellowship of faith and lowering our spirituality? Am I infected with it?

To despise those for whom Christ died is to slight His sufferings. Do we value our dogmas and opinions more than each other, more than our unity in Christ? We must take care to respect all who name the name of Christ. It is in this matrix of kindness, or at least civility, that we can protect the tender love of Christ. The world will learn of the living love of our God only when we learn to live in that love.

The Know-It-Alls

My wife sings this song with the grandkids, just as she did with our kids when they were little.

“Mr. Moon, Mr. Moon, you’re out too soon.

The sun is still in the sky.

Go back to bed and cover up your head

and wait till the day goes by.” 

There is something magic in the voice of a child singing to the moon. She also recites this rhyme:

I see the moon and the moon sees me.

God bless the moon and God bless me.

I remember as a boy watching the moon as it sped through the night sky. I was amazed that it could move so fast and still remain in the same place. Of course, it was the clouds moving in front of the moon that gave it the illusion of swift motion. I still like to look on the night sky when the clouds are moving fast, and imagine that it is the moon moving that fast.

Childish illusion has always directed us. Just a few centuries ago we thought the earth was flat. It sure looked that way. We thought the sun circled the earth. It seemed so. Still does. But we grew up. We are sophisticated now. Though there are those who feel the world, if not the universe, revolves around them, we’ve pretty much got the basic motion of the solar system dialed in.

How about this Bible verse by the wise man of Ecclesiastes, “The sun also arises, and the sun goes down, and hurries to his place where he arose.” How primitive. Why would God choose such ignorant people to deliver His word to us? Our scientists, philosophers and theologians could do a much better job. Their intellectual grasp of the universe is light years beyond the ancient apostles and prophets…or is it?

Let’s represent our knowledge and understanding as a mountain, and that of our ancestors as a hill...a very small hill. For someone looking in our direction from ten galaxies west, our solar system is indistinguishable. Our planet is lost in a twinkle, and so our mountain is as unsubstantial as their little knoll; as unsubstantial as a grain of sand.

It is our arrogance and pride, though, that may be clearly visible from the heavens. God chose crude unlearned men to bring His revelations so that we would understand that we don’t know as much as we think we do. We’re really just as uninformed as they were.

This is the point that got Socrates in trouble. He pointed out that we are not so wise as we think. He tried to show his nation that they did not truly understand the things they thought they knew. His point being that the wisest man is the one who knows he is not wise.

God chided Job “Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!”  After many more such questions Job answers, “Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.” When we can humbly assess our thimble store of knowledge, it will be as Neil Armstrong said from the surface of Mr. Moon, 

“That’s one small step for a man, and one giant leap for mankind”

Solid Life

The Earth turns. Storms rage, fires burn, volcanoes erupt, and the Earth turns. Armies wage war, nations rise and fall, droughts and famines come and go, and through it all the Earth turns. As Solomon says “Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever.” Our life in Christ is like that. The storms and fires, eruptions and floods of life shake and destroy all that we love, but the Lord remains. My own sin and weakness undermine my faith, and yet the Lord remains. He says, “Lo, I am with you always; even to the end of the age.”

The apostle Paul elaborates: Even  “if we are disloyal and faithless, yet He remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself.” Though Jesus says, “Whoever denies me before men, I will deny before my Father”, after Peter says he does not know Jesus, the  Lord cooks a breakfast for him on the beach, asks him to reaffirm his love, entrusts him with the care of the flock, and says to him again, just as he did at the first,” Follow Me.”

He is not a God to abandon those sinners who have once asked for mercy. You may not be a “consistent witness,” but the Lord is your consistent Savior. Your faith may fluctuate; the Lord remains faithful to you. As you stumble through this life, you stumble along through the deep canyons that are the lines in the palm of His hand. The Lord remains faithful. The hand of the Lord forever enfolds you.

 David boldly sings, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way.” We stand upon the Word of the Lord who says, “Heaven and earth may pass away, yet my words shall not pass away.” therefore, like the old hymn says, “I shall not be moved.”

Like the panicked apostles in the storm of Galilee, we worry and scurry about the deck of the mighty ship of our salvation, still it sails on unphased by the storm. The Lord of the storm is at rest in the bow. I can hear you out there fretting about your capacity to remain on deck; faithful, steady and standing in the Lord. Stop worrying. Let me assure you: you cannot keep your feet onboard. You’re welcome.  No, you cannot keep yourself saved. Consider these two verses: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.” You belong to Him and so does your everlasting destiny: “Salvation also belongs to our God.” That means it is not under your control. You are not the savior but the saved. And this from the book of Psalms: “He will not let your foot slip-- he who watches over you will not slumber.” The rock that holds your feet will not be moved.  Relax in the midst of the topsy-turvey, trespass troubled, tumultuous turmoil of your trials: the Lord your salvation remains. His name is Jah Our Salvation, that is: Jesus.

War and Peace

Let there be no mistake: I am proud of my family's military service. During WWII, My father served aboard the USS Storm King and my uncle marched across Europe. My brother fought in Vietnam. All these beloved and brave men returned home changed forever. None of them loved war or wanted to talk about it.

I heard an old World War II combat veteran say, “No one hates war or loves peace more than those who fight the wars.” No one wishes there was no need for an army, more than those who must serve in an army. Down to the last man, down to the last woman, they want this prophecy fulfilled: “And he will judge between the nations, and will decide concerning many peoples; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.”(Isaiah 2:4) This was the vision of democracy: ballots not bullets. But as wonderful as democracy is, it did not, does not, and will not stop war.  

We hate killing anywhere any time, prayed about or not. Let “Thou shall not kill,” expand beyond murder to include all killing. Let this commandment become a promise, and let us yearn for its fulfillment. Thou shall not kill Muslims, Christians, Jews, atheists or whatever-ists, -ics, -ats, -ans, -ians, -ants, oo's, doos, toos or boys who sing the blues. Don't kill unborn kids or born kids. Don't kill the elderly, the weak, the depressed or the ill. Don't even kill murderers (whom everyone of us and his dog would like to see killed.) Don't kill animals, or trees. Don't kill time. Not anywhere-not anytime. Certain bugs, germs and viruses are ok to target, but don't try to kill the ember of faith, hope and love in someone's heart, nor their "worn out dogmas," as one world leader calls them. Stereotypes don't work. Let's hate hatred, not people. Let's kill killing.

Here's an idea (all in jest of course, so don't get up in arms): No Gay's in the military. No Women either. No Blacks, Jews or Muslims. While we're at it, Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs or Catholics. (Particularly Irish Catholics need not apply), OMG, definitely no atheists or agnostics. Jehovah's Witnesses, Mennonites, the Amish and Quakers won't join anyway, so that saves time. We really should ban Protestants (especially Pentecostals) from military service. There's already too many signed up. No one under 112 years of age (as of May 21) should be permitted to enroll in any of the armed services. It should be required of anyone signing up to serve, that they present a current and legitimate, notarized death certificate. It only makes sense that any minority race, ethnicity, creed, code, inclination or whim should be excluded from armed service. Whites too: just to be fair. As long as we're being fair, if gays are banned, so are heterosexuals. As a matter of reducing the carbon footprint of our military, anyone who emits carbon dioxide when they breathe should be kept from carrying a gun...That should apply internationally. Reduce the Kyoto Protocol to that one law and make everyone sign it…Good luck. And of course robotics in warfare should be outlawed.

Everyone else can have at it. (Providing they clean up after themselves.)

Well, that is all just silliness. But here is the truth of it: there will be no peace until the Prince of Peace comes again to put an end to all conflict. As for now, the less of a say that He has in our lives, the more of a say the warmongers will have. The quieter His voice, the louder the hounds of war shall howl; the weaker His influence, the stronger the sway of the feud. He is The Peace. The farther we move from Him, the deeper we are lost in the wilderness of war. I don't know who first said it, but the proverb is true: “No Jesus, no peace. Know Jesus, know peace.” 

Christ gave his life for all. That should be enough death for all and forever.

The Thirst and The Quench

[Quote from "How Shall We Then Forgive"]

“I just got a hankerin’ for somethin’ but I don’t know what it is,” said Jake the Snake as he stood at the bar. “Oh well. Gimme a whiskey, but I don’t think that’s it.” Jake always filled the unidentifiable hankerin’ with some kind of alcohol until the alcohol became the hankerin’.
Jake felt a hand shaking his shoulder, “Jake. Hey Jake.” He opened his eyes and looked up. “You OK Jake?” The noon sun was shining brightly behind the head of the man leaning over him. “Here. Have some water.” Jake sat up and took the canteen. His head throbbed as he took a swig. He looked around, “Damn…am I in the alley again?”
“Yeah, sorry Jake,” said Tom. Tom and Jake had been friends since childhood. Two years ago Jake stopped talking to his friend because “he got religion.” Now he was preaching.
“Chasin’ the hanker again, Jake.”
“Yeah, damn near caught it, too.”
“Bucked you off, huh?”
“Yeah, right on my head.”
“C’mon,” Tom grabbed the arm of his downed friend and pulled him to his feet. They walked in silence to the boarding house.
“Thanks Tom.”
“Don’t mention it. But I know whatch’er hanker is. Gitch’er butt over to church tonight and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Aw, Tom.”
“You know it’s gotta be better than that head ache. By the way, there’s horse poop in you hair. I know it beats that.”
Jake ran his fingers through his hair and looked at his hand.
“Crap,” he said.
“Yeah, said Tom. “Looks that way to me. What I got to say can’t be too much worse. See you tonight.”
Jake laughed, “OK, Tom. See you tonight.”
 Addictions happen like that. In our effort to fill the void in our souls, we use something that hollows us out even more and makes itself indispensible.
 This statement by Blaise Pascal is often quoted: “There is a God shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God, the Creator, made known through Jesus Christ.” Knowing this, it should be a simple matter of letting God take his place. The problem is, there is so much emptiness in every man that is not God shaped. Like noisy little chicks in the nest chirping to be filled, our un-God-like void usually out chirps our God-shaped-void. But trying to quiet the unknown hankerin’ by feeding the un-God-ish is a waste of time and effort. Jesus Christ is what we want. Take care of that first and He will take care of everything else.

But take heed lest by any means this liberty of yours becomes a stumbling-block to anyone whose faith is not as robust as yours. (1 Corinthians 8:9)
The snowstorm that hit Billings Montana was a joy to every school child in town. School was canceled, snowmen rose from the white earth, sleds flew down hills and snowballs filled the air. For June and Dorothy, twelve year old next door neighbors,  it was a day to enjoy time together.

The snowfall was heavy that afternoon as Dorothy stepped outside to go next door. From the parlor window June saw Dorothy trudging toward the door. She leapt from the bay window seat and hurried to the door, opening it just before her friend could knock.

Dorothy entered the house laughing. “Goodness. It’s coming down harder than last night.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” said June.

“It’s prettier from in here than it is from out there.”

“I guess so,” laughed June as she took the young girl’s wraps and hung them on the wall pegs.

“So what do you want to do?” asked Dorothy as she followed June into the warmth of the living room.

“Let’s play monopoly,” said June as she knelt down on the area rug in front of the Franklin Stove. There on the floor was the game box. The visitor sat down cross-legged next to her friend. “What’s this?” she asked.

“Monopoly!” answered June with puzzlement and surprise in her voice. She had been playing this board game since she was six years old. It didn’t seem possible that another girl her age couldn’t know about it. Dorothy’s parents were members of a strict fundamentalist church. Many things that were common practice with June’s house were forbidden in Dorothy’s. The church had many rules.

“Never heard of it.” Said Dorothy as she watched June open the box, unfold the board and pull out the pieces.

Dorothy stiffened, “Those are dice,” she said sternly, “I can’t play with those.”

June felt confused. “What? Really? What are you talking about?”

“People use those for gambling and gambling is wrong. I can’t play this game,” she said.

June was baffled into speechlessness. “What should I do?” she thought.

“Oh, I can fix that,” came a voice from the kitchen. It was June’s mother. “You just go ahead and set up the board. Explain the rules to Dorothy while I do this.”

“Do what?” asked the girls in unison. They giggled and tagged each other, “Jinx” they said together. They giggled more and tagged more, “Jinx Jinx Jinx Jinx” tag tag tag tag. They were on the couch laughing and tickling. June took off running through the house chased by her friend. When they got back to the living room Dorothy picked up a game piece, “O, cute; a little shoe!”

“OK,” said Mrs Bargelt, entering the room. “Here they are. You can use these.” She held out her hand. On her palm were two sugar cubes marked with the dots that correlated with the ivory squares. Dorothy took them in her hand and turned them over and over.

“I don’t know, Mrs Bargelt, I’ll have to ask my mom.”

“Of course dear. Phone’s in the kitchen.”

Dorothy came back into the living room with a big grin on her face. “Mom says these are OK.”

Dorothy became an avid monopoly player. She rolled with sugar, June rolled with ivory and Mrs Bargelt rolled with grace.

The Company You Keep

I'd like to be more devoted to Christ. I'd like to be more faithful and show His love more consistently. I'd like to do those things He wants me to do and worship with passion. But I can't suddenly make this happen just by deciding to be inspired. I can’t turn it on and off like the burner on a stove. It is unlikely that this morning I’m lukewarm, and this afternoon I'll be piping hot; or that just this afternoon I was a smoldering ash, and tonight I’ll be the great torch over the Olympic games. 

And yet the Word tells us, “He will not quench a smoldering wick.” He does not look with disgust at my feeble whiffs of worship floating from my inner candle, wet the tips of His fingers and pinch me out. He is the fire starter; the One who will “immerse you in fire”. The consistent temperature of my devotion can be gradually raised. It is a matter of time–time spent in His presence. I've noticed that the more consistently I set aside a few minutes to be with Him, the more I change inside. The more I change inside, the more I care for those around me, the more I naturally show His love. Hanging around with Jesus brings out His best in me. His goodness rubs off on me. My soul quietly catches fire standing near Him. He rarely explodes into a life. His way is to gradually intensify His holy fire in us.