Tag You're It

1 Peter 2:5, 9-10
9-10But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God's instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted.

Choseness has been a prevalent thread through my reading lately. It is a hard word for the me to assimilate. I don’t know if it stems from my feelings of “unworthiness” or that most of my life is based on my “choices”. My spouse, my vocation, my education. Even my family size – all more or less choices made on my part. Even my church “work” involves things I choose to do. I sing in the choir and teach a class. My choices, hopefully, based on my talents or gifts, as I see God has equipped me.

But God has “chosen” me. No matter how much I think it – I did not choose God, He chose me. What stands between me and that realization? For one, getting my mind around it. That definitely comes from my basic feelings of unworthiness. A lifelong need to be accepted and always feeling I fall short. I have recently been jarred into coming to grips with exploring the expanse and depth of God’s love for me. Scary and intimidating endeavor for someone whose specialty is humble pie, of the more or less artificial variety.

I think the other problem I have with this choosing thing is that I did not apply for it. Now I don’t mean that I don’t love God and have not accepted Christ’s gift of His life, but there again, I still more or less feel I am in the drivers’s seat. In this scripture, my choseness and special-ness are out of my hands. He has chosen me and given me my title. I am a holy priest and part of a holy nation. A lay minister among many others. Now the stretch might not be so far for me, as I have had a teaching role in the church most of my life. But everyone is in this role, no matter what you do or don’t do in the Body. The name plate is there, your choice is to be in the office or out to lunch, indefinitely.

I am His instrument to do 2 things – work for him and speak out for him. Now, it is clear he needs you and me to do this. He has no voice but ours. He has no body but mine. But what to do and what to tell. He has that covered as well.
Our work and our voices should be a living example, a story of the day and night difference He made in and for for me. He surely did that. From heaven to earth via a manger in a stable. From earth to heaven via a cross. He went from something to nothing, from accepted to rejected.

All this so I could do the opposite. This nothing could be something. Something only because He sought me and bought me, as the old hymn says. His night and day, death and resurrection was for me. So this rejected mound of clay could be molded in the purity and righteousness of His life and death, placing me squarely in the hands of the Potter. To be molded and made into His likeness, giving me His voice and His life. So that I might share it with others.

Rock On!

This Easter season, something jumped out at me. Rocks. You may say it is a reach, but I noticed the word throughout the traditional scriptures of the Easter story. The rocks that would rejoice if his disciples did not, along that palm-strewn entrance to Jerusalem. The rocks that split in pieces when Jesus breathed his last. I could go on, but I want to visit about those first.

Rocks singing hallelujah! Can you imagine. Once I had a close friend that was seriously ill, close to the end of his life. He suffered Alzheimers and I had said my good-byes some time back. However, I had a trip planned out of town to the beautiful hill country of Texas and I hated to leave him and his family at such a difficult time. They urged me to go and I did. My prayer along the way was for God to "nudge" me regularly to pray for my friend and those he loved. I just knew I would get caught up in the beauty of the landscape and forget these folks. But it was just the opposite. Everytime I saw a sunset, viewed a valley, a craggy rock formation, or sat amidst a field of wildflowers, they just screamed at me. I am not exaggerating. They literally praised God and I could not help but join in, lifting the name of my friend and family to Him in the chorus. It was an incredible experience. So I can imagine singing rocks!

The rocks in pieces, I can see that too. If rocks could sing, why wouldn't they be able to grieve. To mourn and wail in the sounds of an earthquake, fracturing and flinging their stony arms abroad, bemoaning the pain of His death. An earth that so celebrated His coming, now so distressed by our ignorance and neglect of its Prince of Peace. Yes, I can see rocks grieving.

Rocks - who'd have thought it. Maybe pet rocks were not such a stupid idea after all.

Sounds of Scarlet

Someone attempting to describe the color scarlet to a person born blind declared, “It‟s like the sound of a trumpet"

I came across this comment by Phillip Yancey in the preface of a book he wrote with Paul Brand, "Fearfully & Wonderfully Made". It hit me like nothing has in a long, long time. How do you describe anything visual to a person blind from birth. But with a sound, or a touch, or a taste. I see scarlet not as a vibrant, piercing sound of the trumpet, but more like the slow deep voice of a cello as the bow is drawn across the strings. What would I pick for touch? I am thinking a deep aching pain. And for taste, I can only think of a tart bing cherry.

As I pondered this question, I found I was stumped. In fact, I was frustrated that someone would describe scarlet as a trumpet sound. As I have explained, I think otherwise. Then it dawned on me, isn't that what we do with religion. We see the writings of those who long ago experienced and loved God in the best way they could at the time. They were limited by their culture, knowlege, and history. But when I read their words, I see them trying to tell me who He was. It was not wrong or right, it was their experience. In my time, I am doing the same thing. I am trying to figure Him out and trying to speak Him in my words, my life, my faith. It too is limited by this age I live in and this place I find myself.

So where do I or any other Christian come off telling anyone they are wrong!! It's ludicrous. I am blind and can't see it. I am deaf, and don't know it. I can only and should only tell someone else what I feel and what I know. That really is something, isn't it!

Two Wolves

A Cherokee Legend

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy.

"It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued, "The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

Probably heard this at some time, but never thought about it. If you were raised as a kid in the 50's and attended church, you had a pretty good idea of what was right and what was not. But that is not exactly true. You had a pretty good idea of what moral society said was right and what was not. I loved it.

You got on the bus on Monday morning and every kid there had been to church the day before. You never did anything on Sunday because nothing was open that day. You did get to play outside but that was usually because your mother wanted a nap.

But you see I was a kid, and pretty much didn't bother with anything out of my scope of self. I did not know that Mrs. Jones was a secret alcoholic. Or Mr. Lester the scoutmaster was a little too friendly with the boys. Or Widow Barnes had a few too many late night callers. Out of sight more or less made it only slightly out of right. It's a new day. Our sins are much the same, just more out in the open. And society has deemed them less embarrassing.

So why did reading this simple story seem like a slap in the face? I literally had not even thought about having these two wolves, but I do. Most of my life I did most the right things and refrained from doing most of the bad things, so was this battle one I guess I felt I had won? The greater light bulb going off in my mind is that it is I can literally not win. No matter how good I try to be. As long as I am human and live on this planet Earth, the war wages.

True, prayerful confession is not merely tatteling on the bad wolf as much as it is encouraging the good one. How critical is it that I feed the good one with what I take in - whether it be visual, auditory, emotional, or sensual. The bad one is there and it too will demand to be fed, because as much as I wish he did not live in me, he does. On good days, he just gets table scraps, but there are occasions when he gets the choicest cuts of meat.

And I haven't had a pet in almost 30 years! Well, I guess I need to get some books on wolf behavior. Woops, there I go again!

Be

Our church is doing an on-line book study/discussion. Has been very interesting. Doing the book, Everything Belongs by Richard Rohr. In the book, he mentions a scripture he uses in contemplative prayer. I used the scripture this week and had the most interesting time with the phrase. His migration is as follows:

Be still and know that I am God
Be still and know that I am
Be still and know
Be still
Be

It was funny, but after a day or so of this, I could not leave "Be" alone. I had to add....

Be Me

Now, being more like God is not a bad objective, but it again points to my inability to leave something well enough alone. I must be "doing" something. I have a hard time just being.

This morning as I prayed the scripture, after I finished (with my new ending) it was as if God added his own couplet...

Let Me be
Be

I know a father longs for a child to grow up in His image, to follow in His footsteps. I have for most of my life tried to either please, worship, follow, fear, imitate, contain, blame, love, or "something" Him . Thank God (literally) I have survived through the process I have concocted.

In the recent years, I have fervently worked to remove the boundaries and limits I had set around Him through childhood concreteness, teenage adulation, adult pre-determination, and mid-life consternation. I have opened the divine gates and allowed Him to roam freely in my life, my intellect, and my soul.

But, lately, He has really started meddling. Not merely satisfied with my new and improved outlook of Him,He wants me to address the limits I have placed on myself as well. All those things that I had pretty well tamed or felt at least corralled, insecurities, feelings of inferiority, pride, need to please, guilt, bitterness, hate, pity, etc., are in a good place. Now I feel Him asking me to open those gates and disburse those fairly civilized demons. As overwhelming as it was to start the journey to the real "Him", this seems near to impossible. Where do I start. I find I have an entire set of armor to work my way through and then I only reach the layers of outerwear. And He has pretty much set down the law. No deals. He will settle for no less than vulnerability. I cannot exchange my gas mask for a lighter allergy one. He wants me naked. This is probably the scariest thing I have ever faced.

But as I think of this, maybe there will be one more line to my scriptural progression.

We will Be

Salty Enough For You

Our minister quoted some disturbing statistics on Sunday. He said the percentage of folks today believing in God, stating they are Christians, believing Jesus is the Son of God, etc. were in the high 80's. Higher than in some of the more "God-fearing" decades like the 50's, etc. Now that gave me pause for thought. He suggested maybe we are having more influence on the world than we know. My immediate thought was "I doubt that". But as I thought about it, I said "Hmmmmm...."

I think "we" have changed. I don't look like the Christian I was 25 years ago. I used to be straight and narrow, drawing the line between me and you. I am not the same person. I hope now a line exists, it is drawing us together, not separating us. But I still claim the same name as I did back then - Christian.

Second, has the idea of God changed? Does He no longer scare us with a whiff of sufphur. Is He more accepting and open? And if so what does that mean anyway?

Maybe it is our idea of salt. Does our saltiness not play out in a dividing line we call the church, with good guys on one side and bad guys on the other. I hate to tell you, but I don't think Christians play a big role in society as a whole. It will swing like a pendulum between the two extremes - let it all hang out or keep in all tucked in. It always has, it always will. Jesus was salty but His life and His ministry did not have a great impact on the Roman government at the time. He was a nuisance, they had to deal with in the end, but their empire was not affected by Him. Before you get a bee in your bonnet, I said Him. His physical 3 year ministry. But His life is another story. Leaven, salt, light. These are things that cannot be hidden, toned down, or hid. And the ripple of His life is affecting us today.

Salt is not something we can hoard or sprinkle on whom we please. It is what we are and if we truly do our condiment best, our immediate world cannot remain tasteless.

Running on Empty

You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule. Matthew 5:3

End of your rope.

Only two things you can do at this point. Climb up or let go. If you find yourself at the end, it is probably because you have slipped down. So your ability and/or energy to change your situation is more than likely depleted. If you let go and drop, no telling where you'll land. The best scenario is that someone pulls you up. And you hope that Someone is God.

I wasted alot of time trying to make life clean enough for God. I didn't want Him to live there, just drop by for a visit. Maybe an extended stay if times got tough. I did not need him on a regular basis. Just when I got close to the end of that rope.

More of God, less of me. Funny, but that has been my by-word, my prayer for a long time. In reading this scripture,though, I realize I have been going at this bassackwards. Beating myself up, being critical and self deprecating. These are not the ways to reduce the me in me.

What if I infuse more of Him in me. If there is more of Him, there is automatically less room for me. I have been acting on the opposite premise for most of my life. I have been lessening me, when I need to grow Him. Hmmmm.....interesting.....

The problem is, I have to get out of this crisis mode. It has to be an everyday relationship. I need Him to move in - become my roommate. I am tired of this crisis kind of love relationship we have been living in. Time for a change

Humility. That is the other word I have been grappling with. A state of humility. Not groveling and crawling but just a frank and honest estimation of how we stand. He is God - I am not. Can't get any clearer than that. And if that is the case...what am I doing hanging around on a rope in the first place!